Kane’s careful footsteps were dampened by the wet, mossy undergrowth of the forest. He intentionally stayed away from the main path to keep a low profile. He knew this forest better than his own hand, having spent years tracking and hunting among the ancient trees of the Talking Forest. The Talking Forest didn’t say a word, yet it spoke volumes. Sound carried menacingly far, men were lost to its confusing terrain, and many believed that the souls of the damned were trapped among the densely packed trees. The shadow souls swirled above Kane’s head as he chanted the incantation - a protection spell he learned as a boy. Desperate to keep them away, he started to backtrack and find the main road. He grew confused as darkness began to set in. The shadow souls were said to be the victims of violent deaths at the hands of their own loved ones in the forest. They lingered to seek their revenge. Of course, many people believed these to be fire stories, meant to spook children into staying out of the predator-filled forest. The silence around him was deafening. The birds quieted, no footsteps echoed in the distance. It was as if every creature was hiding from what was coming. The surrounding darkness became dense. It wouldn’t be long before the shadows overtook him completely, leaving him trapped among the trees with the others. He started running, sound of cracking twigs and crushed leaves be damned. Low growling in the distance filled him with dread. His lungs constricted as beads of sweat formed on his brow. He broke into a sprint and heard the rumble of predators catching up. The shadows began to close in from all sides and he wondered which outcome would be worse. “Protege me ab tenebris. Obumbratio defendat me.” He repeated over and over as quickly as he could between gasps of air. He didn’t know what it meant but his mother told him to recite the protection spell anytime he was in the forest. The darkness was growing thicker as the shadows descended in full force. Kane heard the snap of hungry jaws just inches away. A yelp echoed and whatever predators loomed nearby seemed to suddenly drop to the ground. Kane kept running despite the shadows blinding him. He felt a thickness, like a spider’s web slowing him down, enveloping his body. He couldn’t run anymore. He was blind and caught in some sort of unnaturally thick air. In the stillness, Kane heard whispers. The shadow souls were all around him. Souls of the damned. Kane made a mental note to tell his mom the protection spell that everyone in the villlage thought would help was actually useless against the shadow souls. “It isn’t useless.” An ethereal voice whispered in his ear. “Who said that?” Panic bubbling up in Kane’s voice. “The incantation summoned us.” Another, more feminine voice. “Don’t they teach Latin anymore?” The first voice asked condescendingly. Several shadow souls snickered. Kane’s breath quickened. “Protect me from darkness.” A third shadow soul spoke up. “Let the shadow protect me.” The rest responded in unison like a prayer ritual. There must have been a hundred shadow souls swirling around him. Kane realized they had translated the incantation and his heart sank. He summoned his own end. He felt around for his weapon out of instinct, acutely aware that this was folly. “Don’t be afraid.” The feminine voice soothed. “We are here to protect those that summon us.” “Protect me from what?” He asked quietly, his heart still pounding. “You were being hunted by the White Wolves.” The first voice spoke again. “They almost succeeded.” The third voice added chillingly in his ear. Something familiar about this voice caught his attention, scraping against his memory as if the recognition was just out of reach. “You are free to go now.” Another new voice. “You’re safe.” Murmurs of agreement. The darkness that once shrouded him began to clear. Kane looked around and he watched as the souls ascended to their place among the trees. “Thank you.” Kane told them, feeling the inadequacy of his gratitude. Kane rushed home to tell his mother the tale. The old incantation worked in a way no one could have anticipated. He approached his family’s home near the center of the village and stopped short as a wave of recognition slammed into him. The third voice: his father. The legend of the shadow souls crashed through his mind soon after and it was as if the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle fell into place. His mother told Kane his father died in the forest. Kane always assumed it was the White Wolves or the shadow souls. He believed his mother was afraid he would meet the same fate, and insisted he recite the incantation to prevent a similar untimely death. Yet the shadow souls were protectors of the Talking Forest - scorned by their own loved ones and yet preventing harm from coming to others despite their own ill-fated endings. His father was among them. So the question formed in Kane’s mind: who killed his father?