The Keeper of Forgotten Paths
In the heart of a labyrinthine forest stood a small cottage made of twisting roots and moss.
The cottage belonged to the Keeper, an old woman named Morvyn, who guarded the
forgotten paths—trails that led to places erased from memory.
Travelers who wandered too deep into the forest would find her door. Morvyn would greet
them with a cup of tea and a question: “What have you lost?”
One day, a young soldier named Taren stumbled into her clearing. His armor was battered, his
eyes hollow. “I’ve lost my brother,” he said. “He vanished during the war.”
Morvyn studied him for a moment before nodding. She led him to a path overgrown with
brambles and handed him a lantern carved from bone. “This will light your way, but beware
—the forgotten paths take as much as they give.”
Taren followed the trail, the lantern casting flickering light on faces that appeared in the
shadows. They whispered his name, but he pressed on until he came to a clearing where his
brother stood, whole and unscathed.
But as Taren ran to embrace him, he stumbled and fell. The lantern shattered, and the path
behind him disappeared. His brother turned, his face blank and unfamiliar.
Taren realized too late that the forest had taken his memories to forge this reunion. He could
no longer remember who he was or why he had come, only that the man before him was
someone he had once loved.
Morvyn watched from her cottage, her expression heavy with sorrow. The forgotten paths had
claimed another soul, but the forest itself grew a little quieter, as though satisfied.
4o
