(story)

In the heart of the Carpathian Mountains, where ancient forests breathe with secrets and silver mist dances between the fir trees, there lies a land untouched by time. Hidden beyond mortal maps is the Verdant Hollow, a forgotten valley where magic still flows like spring water, and the wind speaks in riddles.

The villagers of Verkholis, nestled in this secret place, lived in the old ways. They spoke to the trees, left offerings to the river spirits, and listened carefully when the pines whispered at dusk. But one winter, the pines stopped whispering. Instead, they groaned with sorrow.

The sun dimmed early that year. Wolves with eyes like burning coals came down from Mount Syvulia, and the river iced over before the first frost. Elders claimed it was a sign that the Seal of the Deep, a magical barrier created centuries ago by the White Witches of Hoverla, had weakened. It had held back the Shadow Court, ancient beings of chaos exiled beneath the mountains.

In the middle of this growing unease lived Mira, a sixteen-year-old orphan raised by her grandmother, Yevdokia, the village healer. Mira had always felt different. She could hear the wind speak in words, see patterns in the stars that others could not, and her touch could mend wounded roots. But it wasn’t until she turned seventeen and her birthmark — a silver crescent on her palm — began to glow, that her grandmother revealed the truth.

Mira was the last of the Silver Flame, descendants of the original witches who forged the seal. A great storm was coming, and only the lost Crystal Tree, hidden at the summit of Hoverla, could reawaken the ancient magic and restore balance.

Mira’s quest began beneath the Moon Gate, an archway of stone entwined with ivy and old spells. She was not alone. Danyl, a wandering bard with a hidden past and a blade forged from moonlight, joined her after saving her from frost hounds. Kruk, a raven who once served the Spirit of Storms, swore loyalty after Mira freed him from a curse using a feather dipped in her own blood.

Their journey led them across the Singing Valley, where waterfalls whispered songs of forgotten gods, and through the Sunken Grove, where ghostly trees trapped the memories of ancient wars. In Tserkva of the Hollow Ashes, they found scrolls left by the witches of old, revealing that the Shadow Court had found a vessel — a fallen prince, now twisted into a creature of smoke and despair, who sought to consume the Heart of the Mountains.

In a final trial at the Skyroot Temple, Mira faced visions of fear and grief, but also of love — her mother’s lullabies, her village’s laughter, and the unbroken will of her people. She realized that the true power of the Silver Flame was not control over magic, but connection — to the land, to each other, and to memory.

At the summit of Hoverla, under a moon that turned red with warning, Mira planted the last silver root into the mountain’s heart. The Crystal Tree, long dormant, bloomed with radiant light. The whispers returned, not just from the pines, but from every corner of the valley.

The Shadow Court was sealed once again, not by fear, but by unity — and Mira, now the Guardian of the Peaks, watches still.

So, in the Carpathians, when the wind rises at dusk and the pines begin to whisper, they speak of her…