Chapter Text
Morning broke slow and pale over the homestay, but the forest beyond the dunes was already stirring. Birds called softly, but the stillness of the previous night, the whispers of the campfire stories, the shadows of the trees, still clung to everything like a second skin. Ajax, Agnes, and Pugsley had returned early, before the others had even stirred, on a mission that seemed simple enough: find a lost necklace.
Agnes had realized the previous night, half-distracted by her unease at the cabin, that the delicate silver chain her father had given her for her birthday was missing. She had scoured the homestay room, turned over every pillow, but it had vanished. Pugsley, ever curious and a little reckless, had volunteered to help. Ajax, patient and protective, had insisted on going too. Part older-brother, part navigator slash guardian, part comic relief to keep the other two from panicking.
They hadn’t expected the forest to feel so… alive. The trees towered over them, black trunks twisting against the morning fog. Every step was muffled by damp leaves, every sound magnified: a twig snapping, a bird calling, the whisper of the wind over moss-covered roots. Agnes’ usual composure had dissolved over the cabin visit the day before. Pugsley, though curious, had that nervous energy that made the forest feel larger than it was. And Ajax… Ajax was calm, rational, quietly confident, keeping them moving while joking softly to ease tension.
“Seriously,” he muttered, hands in his jacket pockets as he led the way, “all we’re doing is walking in circles until the necklace magically jumps into our hands. But hey, that’s an adventure, right?”
Agnes swallowed, eyes darting to every dark corner of the forest. “It’s.. it’s just the necklace. But the cabin yesterday. I can’t shake it off. Something about it…”
Pugsley clutched his flashlight tighter, squinting down the foggy path. “Yeah… something’s off. I don’t know. Feels like the forest’s watching us...”
Ajax grinned, though there was steel beneath it. “Relax. The forest’s not plotting against us. Trees aren’t exactly good at evil schemes. Just keep moving, eyes open. If we find your necklace or anything else we deal with it rationally.”
And with that, they stepped deeper into the forest, unaware that the morning light would only partially shield them from what lay waiting among the roots, moss, and shadows—a discovery that would change the trajectory of their summer entirely.
The forest was quiet, unnervingly so, as Ajax led the way down the winding dirt path, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. The early morning mist clung to the trees like a damp veil, curling around twisted roots and fallen branches. The air smelled of wet earth, moss, and something older, almost metallic, beneath it all. Agnes followed closely behind, every step hesitant, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sweater. Pugsley trailed them both, backpack bouncing against his spine, flashlight clutched in his hand even though the pale sun was beginning to seep through the canopy.
Agnes hadn’t spoken much since then. The memory of the cabin from yesterday still clung to her, like a shadow over her calm composure. Ajax noticed it but didn’t comment; he wasn’t the type to push unless necessary. Instead, he walked with the casual confidence of someone who had handled far worse which was technically accurate with the whole saving Nevermore thing. His boots crunching over twigs and leaves in a rhythm meant to reassure the others or maybe just himself.
“So,” Ajax began, his voice breaking the silence without raising it, “we’re looking for a necklace, a birthday gift, in a forest that, last I checked, is big enough to lose a small village in. Any bright ideas besides ‘start screaming until the necklace answers’?”
Agnes exhaled sharply, a little laugh escaping before it caught in her throat. “It’s not funny,” she muttered. Her eyes flicked nervously to the dense underbrush, where shadows seemed to writhe with a life of their own. She had thought herself composed yesterday, the cabin giving her chills but manageable. Today, every snapping twig and fluttering leaf made her stomach knot.
Pugsley shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Ajax. “I mean… it’s fine. Right? It’s just a forest. Trees. Birds. Maybe snakes. Maybe-” He paused, swallowing nervously. “-something worse?”
Ajax shot him a sidelong glance, eyebrows raised. “Something worse than trees and birds? Pugs, you’ve seen literally nothing here that I haven’t seen in ten times the number of creepy movies we’ve survived. Relax. Just keep your eyes open.”
Pugsley nodded, though he kept the flashlight trained ahead as if shining light into a corner could keep unseen things at bay. Agnes followed in silence, but the tension in her shoulders said she wasn’t entirely convinced.
They walked for what felt like hours, though the forest, dense and unyielding, blurred time. The fog grew thicker in some patches, and the sun, high above, was just a pale smear behind a wall of leaves. Ajax stopped suddenly, crouching to examine a patch of ground where the dirt had been disturbed.
“Here,” he said, voice low but steady. “Something’s been dragged through. Could be an animal. Could be- well, probably just an animal. But it’s in the right direction. Follow me.”
Agnes glanced down at the marks, swallowing hard. “It… looks like it could have been human.”
Ajax gave her a faint smile, half teasing, half reassuring. “Or a very large squirrel. Either way, keep moving.”
They pressed on, deeper into the woods, until a tangle of roots and fallen branches gave way to a small clearing. Sunlight pierced through in golden shafts, illuminating something half-buried in the moss at the center.
Pugsley was the first to notice it. “Uh… Ajax?” His voice trembled slightly.
Ajax crouched, brushing aside the moss. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered. In his hands was a leather-bound book, its cover worn but intact, the title embossed in faint gold letters: ‘Scalesʼ.
Agnes froze. Her gaze dropped to the book, and she felt an immediate, inexplicable weight in her chest, the memory of the cabin and its shadows pressing down like a physical force. “Where did… how could-” Her voice broke, faltering mid-word.
Pugsley edged closer, peering over Ajax’s shoulder. Between the pages, a folded piece of green-coloured paper lay pressed. Ajax picked it up carefully, smoothing it out. Written in looping script was a riddle or poem:
“Pages that dance in silence past the tenth,
Hold secrets not meant for wandering eyes.
Turn them and feel the weight of what watches,
A clever hand must guide the way,
Or the hidden threads will unravel alone,
And those who pry may never return.”
(by my friend, Cha. This note is unrelated tonthe story)
“Uh…” Pugsley whispered, eyes wide. “What does that even mean?”
Ajax’s fingers tapped the cover of the book. “At first glance, probably someone just left it here… maybe keeping it for safekeeping? But… look at the back.” He flipped the book over, and stamped clearly into the leather was a mark:
‘Property of Cabin Oakloadʼ
Agnes stiffened, all the wavering from earlier sharpening into something heavier. “T-the...cabin,” she whispered. “It… it has to be connected. That’s… that’s the cabin from yesterday. It’s the same one. The one we-” Her voice faltered again, fear threading through her words.
Ajax exhaled slowly, calm but firm. “Okay,” he said, keeping his tone light enough to steady them both but serious enough to signal focus. “First point: it’s just a book. Second: there’s a note. Third: yes, it’s connected to the cabin, probably. Fourth: we bring it back, figure it out.”
Pugsley swallowed hard, trying to mimic Ajax’s composed tone. “Cracking a mysterious poem, right. Yeah. Totally not creepy. Just… a forest. A mysterious cabin. A book with a cryptic poem. Super cool.”
Agnes bit her lip, glancing nervously at the edges of the clearing. “I-I guess. But Ajax, what if-”
He put a hand on her shoulder, grounding, steady. “Hey, hey. Nothing’s going to happen. I’m right here. We’re right here. You’re fine. We’re fine.”
She nodded, still trembling slightly. Pugsley, though spooked, had leaned forward, curiosity piqued despite himself. “I mean… the riddle’s kind of cool, actually,” he said, voice tinged with awe. “Like… a mystery.”
Ajax chuckled softly. “Yeah, Pugs. A mystery. Just don’t get eaten by the forest while we solve it.”
Agnes let out a shaky laugh, though it quickly dissolved into silence. Her eyes lingered on the trees around them. “It’s… the cabin. The book… the note... This isn’t random. Someone left it there for a reason. Or… something left it there. I can feel it.”
Ajax crouched again, tapping the cover of Scales with his knuckles. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just someone being clever. Either way, we’re not doing anything dumb. We get it back. We give it to someone who can handle this… someone like Wednesday.”
Pugsley’s eyes lit up. “Wednesday? Yeah she’d know what to do with it. She’d read the poem, get the riddles, figure it out.”
“Exactly,” Ajax said. He slid the book carefully into his backpack, tucking the note into the front pocket. “We don’t panic. We don’t poke ghosts with sticks. We just bring this home. And we let the brains handle it.”
Agnes exhaled slowly, a little steadier now, though the tremor in her hands betrayed lingering fear. “Okay. Okay, yeah, Wednesday. She’ll.. she’ll know.”
Pugsley still glanced nervously around the clearing. “I don’t like this forest. But the book’s cool. And, like… I guess I want to know what it says.”
Ajax gave him a reassuring grin. “Curiosity’s fine, little man. Just… keep your flashlight ready. And stay close.”
The three of them moved out of the clearing, the forest still holding its quiet, ancient tension around them. Every step seemed heavier now, the trees standing taller, the shadows a little darker. Agnes stayed close to Ajax, Pugsley lagging a step behind, flashlight bobbing nervously. And though they didn’t yet know what the poem meant, or what secrets Scales held, they all felt the weight of something larger pressing against the edges of the world they thought they understood.
Ajax led them back, steady, rational, older-brother protector, keeping their steps careful but forward. Agnes let herself lean on that certainty, while Pugsley, though still spooked, couldn’t help but feel the spark of intrigue lighting a fire inside him. And the book, Scales, with its cryptic poem and cabin stamp, sat quietly in Ajax’s backpack, waiting for the right mind to unravel its mystery.
The forest didn’t protest their retreat, but it didn’t release its secrets either. And somewhere, buried in shadows that clung to moss and root, the memory of Cabin Oakload lingered, patient, expectant, and waiting.