ECHOES OF THE FORGOTTEN ISLE

THE MARK BENEATH THE SKIN

Chapter 3 

(Previously: The team found the missing expedition’s camp untouched—plates still warm, beds made, but not a single person left behind.)

Rain hadn’t stopped since dawn.

The forest swallowed the light, turning the air a greenish gray. Kael walked through mud up to his boots, the sound of his heartbeat blending with the steady drum of rain.

He couldn’t shake the cold crawling under his skin. The others were moving ahead—Reeve barking orders, Elara taking samples, Mira photographing a strange fungus that grew in spirals around tree roots. Kael barely heard them.

Something pulsed beneath his sleeve again.

The mark.

It had appeared at dawn, just after he woke from another dream of fire and voices calling his name. At first it was faint—a shimmer of light under the skin—but now it burned with a slow rhythmic throb, as if matching the island’s pulse.

He pulled his glove tighter. No one could see.

“Kael,” Elara called. “Over here.”

She crouched by a broken crate stamped with the missing team’s insignia. Inside were notebooks—soaked but legible. She flipped one open. The first page was filled with frantic handwriting.

The symbols won’t stop glowing. We tried to leave, but the jungle keeps turning us around. Voss was right—the island moves.

Elara exhaled. “This is Dr. Haines’s writing. They must have realized the island’s magnetic field was unstable.”

Reeve scanned the treeline. “Unstable or cursed. Either way, keep your head up.”

Mira looked up suddenly. “Do you hear that?”

They all froze.

There it was again—faint, like wind moving through hollow stone. A low hum threading through the forest.

Kael’s vision swam for a second. The world tilted. When he blinked, he saw shapes in the mist—outlines of towers, broken statues buried under vines. But when he blinked again, it was gone.

Reeve raised an eyebrow. “You alright, Rynor?”

Kael forced a nod. “Just the light.”

They pressed on, following what remained of the trail. The deeper they went, the stranger the forest became. Trees grew impossibly tall, their roots twisting like veins around fragments of black stone. The soil shimmered faintly, like it had absorbed the light.

Elara stopped to take a photo. “This isn’t volcanic rock. It’s… something else. Almost metallic.”

Mira brushed her hand along a root. “It’s warm.”

Reeve frowned. “Warm?”

She nodded. “Feel.”

He touched it—and jerked back. “Jesus.”

The root vibrated beneath his palm, faint but steady, like it had a heartbeat.

Kael stared. The same rhythm throbbed under his skin. He knew it wasn’t coincidence. He backed away before anyone noticed, clenching his fists until his nails dug into his palms.

“Something’s watching us,” Mira whispered suddenly.

Elara looked around. “Where?”

“Not where,” Mira said softly. “Everywhere.”

Silence. Even the rain seemed to stop for a moment.

Then, from somewhere behind them, came a distant echo—footsteps. Slow. Crunching through wet leaves.

Reeve lifted his rifle. “Move. Defensive line.”

Kael scanned the trees, heart hammering. The air thickened, shadows twisting in the fog. For a split second, he saw eyes—pale and faintly blue—watching him from between the roots.

Then the ground shifted.

A tremor rippled beneath their feet, sending mud sliding down the slope. Reeve cursed and grabbed Mira’s arm before she fell. Elara steadied herself on Kael’s shoulder.

The contact made him flinch—pain searing through his arm. The mark beneath his sleeve flared to life, glowing through the fabric like molten lines.

Elara saw it. Her eyes widened. “Kael—your arm—”

“Don’t,” he said sharply, stepping back.

But it was too late. The symbol had already burned through the sleeve, forming a perfect spiral etched in light. It pulsed once, twice—then faded, leaving faint glowing veins that crawled up to his wrist.

Reeve lowered his weapon, his tone cold. “What the hell is that?”

“I don’t know.”

“You expect us to believe that?”

“I said I don’t know,” Kael snapped, but his voice trembled.

Elara moved closer, studying the faint outline. “I’ve seen this before.”

Kael froze. “Where?”

“In one of the tablets we recovered from the shore yesterday. I thought it was just a decorative symbol.” She pulled out her notebook and flipped to a page. The drawing matched exactly—a spiral surrounding a small mark that looked like an eye.

Mira whispered, “It’s the same one that appeared on the stone altar yesterday night.”

Reeve’s jaw tightened. “So the island brands you, and you ‘don’t know why.’ That’s not an accident.”

Kael met his glare. “You think I asked for this?”

“I think you’re not telling us everything.”

The tension crackled in the humid air. The hum beneath the ground grew louder, vibrating through their bones.

Elara held up her hand. “Stop arguing. Whatever this mark means, it’s connected to the ruins. We find them—we get answers.”

Reeve lowered his rifle reluctantly. “Fine. But I’m keeping my eyes on him.”

They continued in silence. The path led downhill into a narrow ravine lined with black rock and glowing moss. The air grew colder, heavier. The hum turned into a low chant—almost human, almost alive.

Kael stumbled once, catching a glimpse of something in the stone: carvings of people kneeling before a massive figure shrouded in flame. At its center—the same spiral symbol burned bright.

The mark on his arm tingled again, like it was answering the call.

He touched the carving without thinking.

The ground trembled. The moss around him flickered blue, veins of light racing across the walls.

“Kael!” Elara shouted.

Before he could pull back, his vision exploded. Images flooded his mind—flashes of a temple, chanting voices, a hand raised toward the sky. And his own voice, echoing through time:

 Seal it. Don’t let it wake again.

He gasped and stumbled backward. The glow faded instantly.

Reeve grabbed him by the collar. “What the hell did you just do?”

“I— I don’t know,” Kael said, breathing hard. “It just—happened.”

“You touched the wall and the whole ravine lit up like a reactor!”

Elara pushed Reeve aside. “Enough! Look!”

She pointed at the carving. The stone where Kael had touched now showed a new figure etched beside the others—his silhouette, identical down to the scar on his cheek.

Mira whispered, “It… added him.”

Kael stared, throat dry. “That’s impossible.”

Elara’s voice dropped. “Or the island remembers you.”

A gust of wind tore through the ravine, howling between the cliffs. The rain returned, sharp as needles.

Reeve turned his face away. “We’re done here. Back to camp before dark.”

They moved quickly, climbing out of the ravine as the storm thickened. Kael trailed behind, the glow beneath his skin fading to a dull ember.

He could still hear the chant echoing faintly in his head.

He could still see that temple of light, and the man who looked exactly like him standing before it.

When they reached camp, the fire was already out—snuffed like a candle. Their tents were torn open. The equipment scattered.

Reeve swore. “What the—”

Elara crouched beside the embers. “Still warm.”

Mira’s voice was barely a whisper. “Something was here.”

Kael turned slowly, scanning the tree line. The fog was thicker now, swallowing the forest whole. And somewhere inside it, just beyond sight, he felt the same eyes watching him again.

He clenched his fists, the mark burning faintly under his skin.

Elara looked at him. “Kael. What’s happening to you?”

He met her gaze—and for the first time, he didn’t have an answer.

The wind shifted. The firepit flickered once, glowing faintly blue.

A whisper drifted through the rain.

 “The seal remembers…”

Kael’s blood ran cold.

The storm broke open above them, thunder splitting the sky, and the jungle exhaled—like something vast and ancient had just woken up beneath their feet.