Before the Encounter

A threshold in the living forest

The forest did not announce itself.

There was no warning. No sign. No sudden shift in sound or light. Only the quiet realization that the path had ended and something far older had begun.

The Emissary stopped beneath the fallen giant. A tree so massive it no longer felt like a tree, but a crossing. Its bark held slow spirals like memory knots. Pale growths gathered along its back, quietly feeding on what had once been alive. Even in rest, the forest was working.

This place was not hostile. It was attentive.

Standing there, the Emissary felt what so many feel at the threshold of change. The sense of being watched without seeing eyes. The feeling that the land itself was aware of the pause. That something unseen had already noticed the arrival.

Not every meeting shows itself.
The Tree is silent, but the forest listens.
This is the moment before the encounter.

Sometimes the most important part of the story is not the encounter itself, but the stillness before it. The moment when you sense that your journey has been seen, and that whatever comes next will change you.

Tomorrow, the path continues.

For now, the forest waits.