The last friend of the forest

Every year, when the first yellow leaf fell from the tallest tree in the forest, a bell rang deep within the woods. No human could hear it. The bell was meant for the spirits. With the first chime, mist rose from among the roots of the trees. With the second, spirits emerged from the darkest corners of the forest. And with the third, they all made their way to the Old Tree—the tree that, according to legend, had stood there before the first house was ever built in that land. They called this night the Night of Friendship. Each spirit had a year to find a friend: a creature that could hear its voice, sit beside it, and not be afraid of its presence. On the night of the festival, everyone told the story of their friend. One had befriended a fox that came to the river every evening. Another had befriended a bird that returned to the forest every autumn. A little spirit had become friends with an old man who scattered seeds for the sparrows every morning. Laughter and voices drifted among the branches. But there was always one who remained silent. The Great Spirit. He was older than all the others—tall and quiet, with a face that seemed to have lived through too many years. Every year, he stood a little farther away from the others. And every year, when his turn came, he said only: “I found no one.” No one asked why. They all knew the answer. The Great Spirit looked more frightening than friendly. Birds flew away whenever they saw his shadow. Animals kept their distance, and humans who sometimes heard his voice in the forest imagined that something unknown was following them through the darkness. Years passed. One year. Ten years. A hundred years. And the Great Spirit remained alone. But one night, just as the festival was beginning, something happened that no one expected. The wind stopped. The little flames scattered across the ground went out one by one. Even the Old Tree fell silent for a moment. Then, from the farthest edge of the forest, a light appeared. A small lantern. The spirits looked at one another. “Human,” one whispered. “No one should be here,” said another. The Great Spirit stared at the light. He did not know why, but something inside him told him to follow it. He left the gathering. The mist swallowed him. A few minutes later, he stood before an old cabin. The cabin had been abandoned for years. One of its windows was broken, and parts of its roof had collapsed. Yet that night, a light burned inside. The Great Spirit looked through the window. A girl was sitting beside the lantern. Alone. An old bag lay beside her. The Great Spirit quietly entered the cabin. The girl raised her head. She looked at him. But she did not run. She only asked: “Are you lost too?” The Great Spirit remained silent for a long time. Then he said: “For years.” The girl gave a very small smile. “So am I.” From that night on, something formed between them that the Great Spirit had been waiting for all his life. Friendship. Every night they sat together. Sometimes they talked, and sometimes they simply listened to the wind. The girl said nothing about her past, and the Great Spirit kept his own past hidden. But silence could not keep secrets forever. One night, the girl asked: “Have you always been here?” “No.” “Then where were you before?” The Great Spirit stared through the window. “Somewhere that no longer exists.” The girl thought for a moment. “Your home?” “Perhaps.” And he said nothing more. Days passed. But the girl grew weaker day by day. She spoke less. She slept more. Sometimes she was so tired that she could not even light the lantern. For the first time in all his years of loneliness, the Great Spirit was afraid. Not of the darkness. Of losing someone. He searched the entire forest for a way to save her. At last, he went to the Old Tree. The tree remained silent for a long time. Then it said: “Everything that enters this forest must one day leave it.” The Great Spirit asked: “Even her?” The tree did not answer. With a trembling voice, the Great Spirit said: “I was alone for years. Now that I have finally found someone, you want to take her from me too?” The Old Tree moved, and dry leaves fell from its branches. Then it said: “You always thought that others would leave you.” The Great Spirit fell silent. The tree continued: “But the truth is different.” The sound of rustling leaves spread through the forest. “You always left them before they could leave you.” That night, the past the Great Spirit had forgotten for so long returned to him. He had once been human. Long ago, he had lived in this very land. He had a home. He had people he loved. But he had lost them, one after another. Each loss had taken a piece of him, until he became afraid of loving. He had told himself that if he stopped loving anyone, he would never have to lose anyone again. So whenever a creature came close to him, he pulled away. Whenever someone wanted to be his friend, he disappeared. And for years, he blamed others for his loneliness. Until that night. When he returned to the cabin, the girl was awake. The lantern beside her gave off a faint glow. The Great Spirit sat beside her. She quietly asked: “Will you come tomorrow too?” He answered: “If you want me to.” The girl smiled. “I do.” Silence settled between them for a few moments. Then the girl reached out her hand. For the first time, the Great Spirit took it. Her hand was cold. Very cold. But he did not let go. They stayed there for a long time that night. Without speaking. Simply beside one another. In the morning, when the first sunlight passed through the trees, the cabin was silent. The lantern had gone out. The window stood open. And on the floor, beside the chair, the little bag remained. The girl was gone. The Great Spirit searched the entire forest. Until sunset. Until midnight. Until the mist covered every tree. But he could not find her. At that very moment, the old bell rang again through the forest. Another Night of Friendship had begun. All the spirits gathered around the Old Tree. But the Great Spirit did not come. For the first time in all those years, his place was empty. Until just before dawn. Then a tall shadow appeared through the mist. The Great Spirit had returned. Alone. No one dared ask him anything. He slowly walked toward the Old Tree. He opened his hand. A small lantern rested in his palm. The same lantern that had led him to the cabin that night. He placed it among the roots of the tree. For a moment, he stared at it. Then he turned and disappeared into the mist. From that night onward, every year on the Night of Friendship, a small lantern appeared at the farthest edge of the forest. No one knew who lit it. Some spirits said the Great Spirit was still waiting for the girl. Some said he had finally left the forest. And some believed that on misty nights, they could hear the footsteps of two people along the old road. Two slow sets of footsteps. Sometimes they came closer... And sometimes they disappeared into the mist. No one knew the truth. Only one thing was certain: Every year, when the first autumn leaf fell from the Old Tree, a small lantern appeared at the edge of the forest. And just before sunrise, it went out. Perhaps the Great Spirit was still waiting. Perhaps the girl would one day return through the mist. And perhaps the lantern was the only thing left of their friendship. But on some nights, when the wind moved through the trees, the spirits heard a girl's voice from far away: “Are you lost too?” And then a quiet voice answered: “For years.” Then everything became silent again. As if even the forest did not know... which of them was still waiting for the other. Until one night, the Great Spirit decided he would no longer simply wait. He took the lantern and went to the farthest part of the forest, where the mist was always thicker and the trees held older secrets. Among the roots of a dead tree, he found a piece of stone engraved with a familiar mark—the same mark that had once been carved into the wall of his home. Suddenly, he remembered everything. He had not always been a nameless spirit without a past. Long ago, before he became the Great Spirit, he had been a girl; a lonely girl who had lost her home and family during the war. The forest had become her refuge, but her grief had grown so heavy that one night, in that same old cabin, she lost hope and ended her life. After her death, her spirit remained in the forest—not as a punishment, but because she had never learned how to forgive herself. She had forgotten that she had once been a girl. And now she understood that the girl she had seen in the cabin was no one other than her own past—the wounded, forgotten part of herself that had spent years waiting to be heard. The Great Spirit returned to the cabin. The lantern was still burning. The girl stood beside the window. This time, the Great Spirit did not recognize her from a distance. He recognized her from within himself. The girl smiled and said: “Did you finally understand?” The Great Spirit asked in a trembling voice: “Are you me?” The girl answered: “I am the girl who was lost in this forest long ago. The same girl who thought there was no way to go on. But you, despite all your loneliness and fear, kept her alive.” The Great Spirit stepped closer. “I didn't save you.” The girl said: “No. But for the first time, you did not run away from me.” At that moment, the lantern grew brighter, filling the walls of the cabin with golden light. The Great Spirit understood that the girl was not meant to remain in the forest forever. She had come to remind him that no one should define an entire life by a single dark night, even if that night had been the end of their life. The girl took his hand. “Now it is time to go.” The Great Spirit asked: “Together?” The girl smiled. “This time, not to get lost. To find the way.” They left the cabin together. The mist parted, and the first light of morning spread between the trees. The Great Spirit looked at the forest one last time—the place that had once been his prison and had finally become a home where he could forgive himself. After that day, no one saw the Great Spirit in the forest again. But every year, on the Night of Friendship, a lantern appeared at the farthest edge of the forest; a lantern that was no longer a sign of waiting, but a sign of hope. The spirits said that anyone who became lost in the darkness and reached that lantern would hear a quiet voice: “You are still here.” And another voice would answer: “Then I can still find my way.” From then on, the Night of Friendship was no longer only a celebration of finding a friend. It became a celebration of returning to oneself. Because sometimes, the greatest friend we need to find is the wounded part of ourselves—the part that has been waiting in the dark for years for someone to tell it: “You are not finished. You can still begin again.” But no one knew why, from that night onward, the lantern never remained lit until dawn. Every time, exactly at midnight, its flame went out. And in the mornings, beside the roots of the Old Tree, two sets of wet footprints could be seen—one large and heavy, the other small and narrow. The footprints always led toward the forest. They never came back. Years later, the spirits stopped hearing the girl's voice. Only sometimes, in the farthest part of the forest, footsteps could be heard moving through the mist—footsteps that slowly approached and stopped behind the dead trees. If anyone came near the lantern that night, its flame suddenly burned blue, and a voice from inside the cabin would ask: “Are you still here?” And if they answered: “Yes.” The lantern would go out. The next morning, no one could find that person. Not in the cabin. Not by the river. Not among the trees. Only a small bag remained beside the window, like the old bag the girl had left behind years before. From then on, the spirits understood that the lantern was not a sign of hope. The lantern was an invitation. And every year, the forest found the Great Spirit a new friend. Someone who was lost. Someone who did not yet know that they were dead. And on the Night of Friendship, when the first yellow leaf fell from the tallest tree, a bell rang deep within the forest. With the first chime, the mist rose. With the second, the lantern lit. And with the third, the Great Spirit's voice passed through the darkness: “Are you lost too?” This time, no voice answered. Only the Old Tree quietly released its dry leaves. And the forest hid one more of its secrets in the darkness.