The journey ahead is shrouded in an unsettling silence, the world around me a strange and unfamiliar labyrinth. The faint sounds of the inn's warmth have long since faded, leaving only the creaking of the village houses and the soft rustling of wind through the trees. Each footstep I take seems to echo far too loudly, the weight of my uncertainty pressing down on me like an invisible force. My mind races with questions I can't answer, and the answers I crave seem more distant with every step I take. The road ahead is long, winding, and uncertain, much like the path I now find myself walking.

The village, with its simple, rough-hewn houses and smoke-streaked skies, is quickly left behind, the edges of my world dissolving into the wild unknown. I barely notice the passage of time, lost in my thoughts, until the road shifts, veering away from the last traces of civilization. The air grows thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, the first signs of the forest slowly closing in around me. The trees stretch far above, their branches twisting and reaching toward the sky in a web of shadows.

I should be focused on finding the seer, on reclaiming whatever fragments of my past I can. But my thoughts keep drifting back to the kingdom I once ruled, to the marble walls of the palace, and to the throne I thought would be mine forever.

The crown is a distant memory, like a dream fading in the light of morning.

I force myself to focus on the path ahead, the road slowly becoming a trail, the dirt beneath my feet softening with each step. The canopy of trees overhead thickens, casting long shadows across the trail, and the light that was once golden now seems pale and distant. It's as if the world is holding its breath, waiting for something that never arrives.

I walk on, my mind a whirlwind of confusion, frustration, and fear.

Hours pass, though I hardly notice. The day seems to stretch endlessly before me, each moment blending into the next. The air is damp and cool, the rustling leaves around me the only sound. My legs ache from the long journey, the unfamiliar feeling of this new body still unsettling.

I've lost count of how many times I've tripped or stumbled along the trail, the rough earth beneath my feet a constant reminder that I am not the prince I once was. This body, this form—Aiden's body—feels fragile, foreign. I can barely remember how to walk properly. I can't recall the grace and fluidity I once had. Every step feels awkward, like I'm learning how to move all over again.

But I push on.

The forest feels both vast and suffocating, the towering trees surrounding me like ancient sentinels, watching my every move. I've seen enough forests in my lifetime to know that this one is different. The trees here are gnarled and twisted, their bark a deep shade of gray, their branches thick with moss. It's as if time has forgotten this place, leaving it untouched by the outside world.

And yet, there's something else about the forest, something that sends a shiver down my spine. The air seems heavier here, thick with magic. It hangs in the atmosphere like an invisible fog, subtle but undeniable. I can feel it prickling against my skin, tugging at the edges of my consciousness, as though the forest itself is alive, watching me.

I try to shake off the uneasy feeling, but it clings to me like a second skin. I continue walking, my breath coming in shallow gasps, my heart pounding with every step.

The path begins to narrow as I walk deeper into the forest, the trees closing in around me, their branches intertwining above to form a canopy that blocks out the sky. The light grows dimmer, and I find myself relying more on the feel of the ground beneath my feet than on the sight of the path ahead. My thoughts wander again, drawn to the strange sensation that something is following me, something unseen in the shadows of the trees.

I quicken my pace, though I can't shake the feeling that the forest itself is closing in on me. The unease grows as the minutes tick by. What if the seer is just a myth? What if the journey has been for nothing?

I push the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task ahead. The need to reclaim my past is overwhelming, like a hunger I can't satiate. I can't afford to doubt now.

After what feels like an eternity, the path opens up into a small clearing. In the center of the clearing stands a small, weathered hut, its roof sagging under the weight of years of neglect. The walls are covered in creeping vines, and a thin trail of smoke rises lazily from the chimney, curling into the air like a wisp of magic.

This must be it—the seer's home.

I take a hesitant step forward, the silence of the forest pressing down on me like a blanket. I glance around, half-expecting something to jump out from the shadows, but there's nothing. The air is still.

The door to the hut creaks as I push it open, the hinges groaning in protest. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of herbs and incense, the dim light of the hearth casting flickering shadows across the room. The interior is cluttered with jars, books, and bundles of dried herbs hanging from the rafters. The room feels alive with energy, like the very air crackles with unseen forces.

And then I see her.

A woman stands at the far end of the room, her back turned to me as she stirs a pot over the fire. Her long, silver hair cascades down her back, shining in the low light, like moonlight weaving through darkened clouds. Her robes, simple but elegant, are made from faded indigo fabric, tattered at the edges, giving her a look of timeless wisdom rather than grandeur. The robes cling loosely to her form, flowing like a veil as she moves. There's a quiet power in her posture, an air of experience that seems to stretch far beyond what any mortal could know.

Her hands move with practiced ease, as if she has done this a thousand times before, the flickering firelight illuminating her pale, wrinkled skin. Her features are sharp and distinct—a high, noble forehead, a small nose, and lips that are perpetually set in a serene, knowing expression. But it's her eyes that draw me in—their pale color almost white, like an overcast sky, both haunting and mesmerizing. They look empty, like they've seen countless things and forgotten just as many.

There is something unsettling about her, something that fills me with a sense of awe, as though she knows things I could never understand. As though she sees the truth of everything—of my lost past, of the choices I must make, and the price that will come with them.

She must be the seer.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to approach her. I've heard the stories—of seers who can read minds, who know your past, present, and future with a mere glance. I don't know what to expect, but I know that I need answers.

"Excuse me," I say, my voice steady but uncertain. "I've come for help."

The woman doesn't turn around at first, but then her hand stills over the pot, and she slowly, deliberately, turns to face me. Her eyes lock onto mine, and I feel as though she can see straight through me, to the very core of my being.

"You've come a long way, haven't you, Prince Alaric?" she says, her voice soft but firm, as if she's known me for years. "I've been expecting you."

I feel a jolt of shock. How does she know who I am?

"Expecting me?" I repeat, my mind racing. "But how—how could you know?"

The woman smiles, a small, knowing smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I know many things, boy. Things that are beyond your understanding." She steps closer, her gaze never leaving mine. "You've lost more than you know, haven't you? Your kingdom, your crown, your memories. They are slipping away, like sand through your fingers."

I stand frozen, caught between awe and fear. The seer is right. Everything I once knew is slipping away. I try to find my voice, to demand answers, but the words get caught in my throat.

"I can help you, Prince Alaric," the woman says, her voice a whisper now. "But you must be willing to face the truth, no matter how painful it may be."

The weight of her words settles over me like a heavy fog. I don't know if I'm ready to face whatever truth she has to offer, but deep down, I know I have no choice. My past, my future, everything depends on what she can tell me.

"Tell me what I need to do," I say, the words barely a whisper.

The seer steps back and gestures to the room, to the books, the jars, the strange symbols carved into the walls. "You must open your mind, Prince Alaric. Only then will you be able to remember what was lost."

I nod, a strange mix of hope and fear swirling in my chest. The path ahead is unclear, but for the first time since I awoke in the forest, I feel as though I might finally be on the right path.

The seer's gaze softens, and she steps forward, placing a hand on my forehead. "Rest now, Prince. The answers you seek will come in time."

And just like that, the world around me begins to blur, the firelight fading, the room dissolving into darkness.