Noland McCalister paced, irritant, in the square. A crowd had gathered around the stone stage he stood upon. It was not every day, after all, that the head of the local church called for a public execution. The priest looked up with a sharp glare as a pair of guards, a lucario and a blaziken, entered the space. Between them was the felon, an elderly gothitelle who had lived on the town's outskirts for years… Just outside the Whispering Wood. The old woman had threatened the priest, openly cursing his name and the ground he walked on, and had promptly been found guilty for dealing with dark spirits. As the old hag was forced to her knees, her neck on the chopping block, Noland walked up with a sneer.
"Any last words?" he asked calmly, a grim satisfaction in his voice. The woman laughed bitterly, glaring up at him with a toothy smile.
"Aye. A curse on ya, McCalister. A curse that yer daughter dance with a devil on her eighteenth birthday. May she burn with me when her time comes!" The gothitelle shouted with a sneer.
"Enough!" Noland shouted, gesturing to the axeman. The aggron nodded, swinging his axe. There was a muffled 'thump' and the hag was silenced forevermore.
(18 years later)
Freya stood quietly at the end of the path through town, her eyes locked on the dark forest a few yards ahead. She had heard the rumors, the legends that the old forest was a playground for dark spirits. Townsfolk claimed that on the new moon, one could hear whispers floating on the quiet breeze from the ancient forest. Thus, the old trees were dubbed 'The Whispering Wood'. The stories claimed that many a man had tried to pacify the forest, or cut it back, but all of them had vanished within, and were never seen again.
The young glaceon swallowed. Ever since her tenth birthday, she had felt drawn to something in the woods. She hadn't been afraid of the forest, the trees seeming like silent sentinels defending the last safe haven of nature in the area. But even Freya couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of foreboding that came from those ancient woods. The trees themselves seemed tainted, their bark as dark as ash with nettles of a dark, grayish-green. The wood didn't seem evil, but sick. It seemed to her like something within had long since poisoned the very land the forest rested on.
The girl was jolted from her reverie as she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she found her father gazing down at her, the espeon seeming tired.
"You should be wary of those woods child." Noland spoke softly. Freya only nodded as her father turned on his way to the cathedral. Slowly, she returned to gazing at the trees. Hours later, she could stand it no longer. She had to find whatever was drawing her in. Mustering her courage, she slowly walked forward, and entered the dark forest, unintentionally setting in motion a series of events that would send her life tumbling like dominos until there was nothing left for her to lose. Like a porcelain doll, her world was falling, and was destined to shatter if no one intervened. As she walked, a pair of ruby eyes followed, their owner smiling in wicked interest.