The storm came on a moonless night not of thunder, but of secrets.
Melia stirred in her sleep, only to wake to a soft knock on the door. She hesitated. No one visited this late.
When she opened it, a woman stood cloaked in deep green, her skin the color of earth and eyes glowing like moss in morning sun.
"I am Seraphine," she said. "Keeper of Roots."
Melia stepped aside without knowing why.
By the fire, Seraphine unraveled a tale older than the village itself of love that defied death, of soulmates born and reborn through time, drawn together by a tree older than any human name.
"The willow chose them," she said, sipping tea as if discussing weather. "And when it chooses, it protects."
Melia's heart pounded. "Why now? Why these children?"
Seraphine looked at her gravely. "Because others want to sever that cycle. There are those who fear what they cannot control."
She spoke of a shadowy group known only as The Hollow a name that sounded like a void. They hunted reborn souls, not to kill them, but to drain their essence. To rewrite nature's laws.
"They want to claim what love cannot give them permanence. Power. But love… was never meant to be owned."
Melia clenched her jaw. "I won't let them take Liora and Jalen."
Seraphine nodded slowly. "Then you must prepare to protect them not just as a guardian, but as the final tether between their past and present."