Ren's legs felt weak as he stumbled after Lyria through the moonlit forest. His lips still tingled where her mouth had brushed his skin. He touched his neck, half-expecting to feel a burn — but there was only the soft thrum of heat beneath his fingertips.
He should have run. He should have demanded she send him home. But every time he looked at her — the sway of her silvery hair, the way the forest seemed to part for her bare feet — something inside him whispered stay.
The deeper they walked, the stranger the woods became. Flowers bloomed in impossible colors: deep crimson, shimmering indigo, blossoms that closed as they passed and opened again in their wake. Pale lights drifted between the trees — tiny orbs that hovered like living lanterns.
Lyria glanced over her shoulder, her smile playful, almost taunting. "Does it frighten you, little mirror walker? This forest loves secrets. It listens to your heartbeats."
Ren opened his mouth but couldn't form the question tangled on his tongue — What is this place? Who are you really? But the words were swallowed by the hush of leaves and the pull of her hand as she slipped her fingers through his.
Her palm was warm, impossibly soft. She squeezed just enough to make him stumble closer, close enough to catch her scent again — wildflowers, moss, and something sweeter that made his chest ache.
The trees thinned, giving way to a hidden glade bathed in silver moonlight. Ren's breath caught.
Nestled among ancient oaks and flowering vines was a village like something from a fairy tale — wooden dwellings perched on broad tree branches, connected by woven bridges that glowed faintly with runes. Lanterns swung from the boughs, casting pools of warm, golden light across the mossy ground below.
Figures moved in the shadows — tall, graceful, undeniably feminine. Some paused mid-step to watch Ren with curious eyes, their pointed ears twitching like Lyria's, their dresses little more than wisps of silk and woven petals.
"Welcome, Ren Amakawa," Lyria said softly, her voice brushing his ear like a kiss. "To Eldergrove. Home of the forest maidens."
Ren swallowed, his gaze flicking from one stunning figure to the next. Their eyes gleamed in the lantern light — some amused, some hungry, some wide with wonder at the sight of him.
A soft voice floated from above. "So this is the human the mirror sent you, Lyria?"
Ren looked up. Standing on a broad branch above them was a woman even more breathtaking than Lyria — taller, her hair a cascade of pale gold that shimmered in the lantern glow. A crown of woven blossoms sat on her brow. She wore only a thin wrap of silver cloth that did nothing to hide the curves beneath.
She stepped lightly from the branch, landing soundlessly on the moss beside them. Her eyes, deep green and ancient, fixed on Ren.
"You've brought us a fragile one," she murmured, brushing a single finger along his jaw as she circled him slowly. "Such pure eyes… untouched by this world's hunger."
Ren shivered, every nerve alight under her feather-light touch. Lyria's smile widened, mischievous pride shining in her gaze.
"Queen Elandra," Lyria said, her voice dripping with reverence and delight. "He stumbled through the mirror. He's ours to welcome."
The Queen's fingers slid to Ren's throat, pausing just over his frantic pulse. Her lips curved into a smile both tender and predatory.
"Then we shall welcome him properly."
She leaned in so close Ren could see the faint glow of runes along her collarbone — and smell the same intoxicating blend of flowers and forbidden sweetness that clung to Lyria.
"Come, mirror walker," Queen Elandra whispered. "Tonight, you will sleep among the forest maidens. And when you wake…" She brushed her lips near his ear, her voice a promise that made his knees buckle. "…you'll never want to leave."
Ren's legs felt like they belonged to someone else as Queen Elandra's fingers slipped from his throat. Her touch lingered like a phantom warmth — making him painfully aware of how thin his shirt clung to his skin, how bare the night air felt against his neck.
Lyria tugged gently at his sleeve. "This way," she murmured, her voice like soft silk as she guided him up a wooden ramp that curved around the base of an ancient tree. Lanterns hung from low branches, casting pools of golden light that made the petals beneath their feet glow silver-white.
At the top, an open pavilion waited — a vast wooden platform draped with garlands of blossoms and gossamer fabric that danced in the breeze. Dozens of elf maidens waited there, standing in a wide circle. Their gowns were sheer, stitched from moonlight and woven petals, each more daring than the next. Their hair shimmered in every hue of green and gold, crowned with flowers that seemed to bloom just for them.
They turned as Ren stepped into the circle — curious eyes raking over him, lips curling into knowing smiles. Whispers rose, like wind stirring leaves. He caught snatches of words — "He's beautiful…" "So pure…" "The mirror chose well…"
Queen Elandra stepped beside him, her presence calming yet terrifying. She raised one graceful hand, and the murmurs fell to a hush.
"Tonight," Elandra announced, her voice echoing through the pavilion, "the Mirror World accepts a new guest — one gifted by the ancient glass that binds our forest to the longing of men's hearts."
She turned to Ren, her eyes gleaming with mischief and something deeper — hunger, maybe, or a secret she wasn't ready to share. "Ren Amakawa," she said softly, "will you accept our welcome? Will you let the forest touch what you hide, and offer what you keep guarded?"
Ren's mouth opened but nothing came out. His knees trembled under the weight of every gaze. The air smelled of petals, rain, and something heady that made him feel drunk just breathing it in.
Lyria's hand slipped into his again — her fingers warm, anchoring him. "Say yes," she breathed, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Or they'll think you're afraid."
I should be afraid, he thought wildly. But his voice betrayed him: "Y-yes…"
Queen Elandra's smile could have melted stone. She turned, lifting both arms. The maidens stepped forward as one — closing the circle around him, drifting closer until their warmth pressed against him from every side.
Soft hands brushed his shoulders, fingertips tracing the line of his spine through the thin fabric of his shirt. Someone behind him tugged gently at his collar, loosening it as if it were nothing more than an unnecessary veil.
Elandra's voice floated through the haze. "Fear not, mirror walker. This is no cruelty — only blessing. Your purity feeds our roots, your hidden ache nurtures our blossoms. We take nothing you don't offer willingly."
He felt Lyria's breath at his throat. Another maiden pressed against his back, her hair cascading over his shoulder as she murmured in a language he couldn't understand. Fingers slipped beneath the hem of his shirt — warm palms skimming the bare skin of his waist, sending shivers down his spine.
His breath caught when a girl in front of him — her eyes deep blue like midnight petals — leaned forward and brushed her lips, soft and cool, against his collarbone.
Ren's mind spun. He felt weightless, heat pooling low in his belly as hands explored and lips teased — always stopping just before true surrender. They were testing him. Teasing him. Drawing out the ache until he felt he might burst from the sweet tension.
Queen Elandra stepped close again, standing so near he could see the faint glow of runes along her collarbones and the swell of her chest where the silver cloth slipped daringly low.
She lifted a hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing his lower lip. "Breathe, Ren Amakawa," she whispered. "Tonight, the forest tastes only the edge of you. The rest… comes when you beg for it."
A soft laugh rippled through the circle. Hands withdrew, lips parted from his skin, leaving him shivering and wanting more than he dared admit.
Above them, the lanterns flickered like fireflies caught in a dream. Around him, the elf maidens began to dance — swaying to a rhythm older than his world, petals drifting down like slow rain.
And Ren stood at the heart of it all — the boy who had never known a kiss now drowning in the promise of endless ones, each sweeter and more dangerous than the last.
The dance of petals and lantern light blurred around Ren until the whispers faded into a distant hum. His skin still buzzed where the maidens had touched him — every nerve painfully awake, every heartbeat pounding against the quiet hush that settled when the circle broke.
Somewhere between stolen kisses and teasing hands, he'd been guided away — half-floating, half-willing — until cool moss pressed beneath his bare feet. The warmth of bodies and blossoms faded behind him, replaced by the vast shadow of a single towering tree at the heart of Eldergrove.
The elder tree's trunk was impossibly wide, its bark etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly like veins of moonlight. Petals drifted from its high branches like falling stars, catching in Ren's hair and clinging to his skin.
He leaned against the tree's massive roots, struggling to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell too quickly, the thin cloth of his shirt rumpled and loose from the ritual's gentle disrobing. The night air kissed the bare skin of his shoulders, but it did little to cool the flush that lingered.
What am I doing? The question pounded through his mind, louder than the heartbeat drumming in his ears. I should run. I should find the mirror. I should—
A soft laugh cut through the tangle of his thoughts.
"You can't run from the mirror, Ren Amakawa."
Queen Elandra stepped from the shadows at the base of the ancient trunk, her gown slipping like liquid silver over her skin. Her hair, crowned with blossoms that glowed faintly, spilled over her bare shoulders as she moved toward him.
Ren's breath caught as she knelt beside him, her fingers brushing a fallen petal from his cheek. Her touch made him flinch — not in fear, but from the warmth that raced straight to his core.
"Why… why are you doing this?" His voice cracked, rough with the ache he couldn't hide anymore.
Elandra's smile curved, soft yet sharp as the crescent moon. She tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, her nails grazing his skin. "Why does a flower bloom for the sun? Why does the river thirst for the rain?"
She leaned closer, so close her breath feathered his lips. "Because longing feeds us. Your innocence is the sweetest water this forest has tasted in an age."
Her thumb traced his lower lip. Ren's eyes fluttered shut, shame and hunger warring in his chest.
"You think it's wicked, don't you?" Elandra whispered. "To want this. To feel this."
She pressed her forehead to his, her scent wrapping around him — soft petals and wild honey. Her lips hovered a whisper away. "It is not wicked to want. It is only wicked to lie to your heart."
Her other hand drifted to his chest, splayed flat over his racing heart. Her touch burned through the thin cloth, each beat of his pulse echoing into her palm.
Ren's voice trembled. "You're… you're using me."
Elandra laughed softly — not unkindly, but like a mother amused by a child's stubborn innocence. "And you would use us too, sweet mirror walker. You dream of warmth, of lips, of soft bodies pressed against yours. The mirror simply gives you what you never dare ask for."
Her lips brushed his cheek, trailing heat along his jaw until her mouth hovered at the corner of his lips.
"Let me show you more, Ren Amakawa. Let me taste what you hide."
He should say no. He should push her away. But when her tongue flicked lightly against his lower lip, tasting him, the word died in his throat.
Elandra pressed closer, her body a soft, impossible warmth against his. Her lips parted fully over his, her kiss slow, savoring, deep enough to pull a helpless sound from his throat. His fingers clenched in the moss beneath him — one heartbeat from grasping her, from pulling her closer than the night itself.
When she pulled back, his chest heaved, his lips tingling from the taste of her. She traced his mouth with her thumb, eyes dark with promise.
"This is only the beginning," she murmured, her voice a spell that sank deep into the marrow of his bones. "Sleep now, Ren. When you wake… the forest will have more to offer. And you will beg to taste it all."
Her lips ghosted over his ear one last time — a breath, a promise, a binding.
And then the elder tree's roots pulsed with gentle warmth. Ren's eyelids fluttered, heavy with a sweet drowsiness that stole through his limbs. His last sight was Elandra's smile — soft and victorious — as the forest wrapped him in shadows and dreams he could no longer resist.