The Seal Stone

I was holding my two favorite things in my hand: blackberries and strawberries. I couldn't help but feel like I had to choose one. Did I like blackberries more or strawberries? First, I popped the strawberry from my palm into my mouth and took a satisfying bite. Then I ate the blackberry. I was seven years old now and should be able to decide what I liked and didn't like.

I hadn't wandered far from home, but I kept reminding myself that I had to go back before my grandfather returned. He didn't like me coming into the woods, but no one could keep me away from these strawberries and blackberries. I threw myself into the shade of a tree, hungrily eating the fruit in my hand while looking around for more blackberry bushes.

I turned around immediately when I heard a faint crackling sound behind me. Standing up, I headed in the direction of the noise, but there was no one in sight.

I have a feeling this curiosity will be the end of me.

Still, despite this vast forest, no one could scare me. I was a fearless girl. My grandfather always talked about how I looked like an Amazon woman and told stories about how strong and brave they were. I wanted to be one of them too, and now I had my chance to be an Amazon woman.

After walking a little further, I saw a thin boy about my height behind a tree. "There he is," I thought, "the friend I've been looking for!" He was wearing brown shorts and white suspenders. He had already seen me coming and stared without taking his eyes off me. I approached him with a smile, but he backed away.

"Hello!" I called out.

This time, the boy started approaching me. Even though it made me nervous, I couldn't help examining him. He had a large, old scar on his neck-I figured he had fallen and it left a mark. There was something in his hand that he was holding tightly, trying to hide. When he realized I was looking at his hands, he immediately hid them behind his back.

He looked around first, as if torn between speaking or remaining silent. I couldn't move at all as he slowly walked toward me. His eyes widened. "Are you a fairy?"

"Actually, I'm an Amazon woman. Grandpa always says so," I said, crossing my arms. Where did the fairy thing come from?

He took a few deep breaths, raising his nose as if sniffing me, and circled around me twice. "You're human," he whispered, his words showing how surprised he was. Why was he surprised? After all, everyone was human. Even my grandfather was human.

"Shall we play a game?" I said, reaching out to take him by the arm and lead him to the big tree where I had been sitting.

Instead, he pushed me to the ground with a growl and came toward me. My arm hit the sharp stones on the ground, and I couldn't hold it in anymore-I started to cry. I raised my arm and looked at it; the skin was scraped and bleeding, which made me cry even harder.

I tried to stand up to complain to my grandfather, but the boy stopped his wheezing and knelt beside me. He grabbed my arm and brought it closer to look at the wound, his earlier anger replaced by a compassionate expression.

When I saw the red stone he was squeezing in his other hand, I forgot all my pain. It was the most beautiful stone I had ever seen in my life. "What's that?" I asked, pointing at it.

He squeezed his hand again and hid it behind his back, as if he had accidentally shown something he shouldn't have.

"Can I have a look too?" I asked. I wanted to play with the red stone.

Although he hesitated, he brought his hidden hand back in front of my eyes, though his palm remained tightly shut. I raised my hand and touched his. As I slowly opened his fingers, the red stone shone in his palm.

When I tried to pick it up, he immediately pulled his hand back and stood up.

"Let's play with it," I sang out.

I got up and walked toward the tree, making sure to check if he was following me. I slapped my hand on the log beside me and gestured for him to come over. He seemed like a very shy kid, but I needed a friend after all, so I didn't want to scare him away.

"Can we be friends?" I asked.

The boy looked around as if thinking of something else. "I have to hide it," he said timidly-it was the first time I had heard his voice. He was pointing to the stone in his hand.

"Sure!" I said immediately. Like him, I looked around for a safe place to hide the red stone. It was tiny, but its vibrant color could easily give it away.

"From the wolves," he whispered.

This excited me. After all, I was a kid who ran from one adventure to another. I quickly got up and started searching, but I still couldn't find a good hiding spot.

"Who are we hiding it from?" I asked. After all, I needed to know our enemy.

The boy stood up beside me and grabbed my injured arm, staring at the scraped skin. "I think we can put the stone here," he said.

I looked at him like he was crazy. "It hurts," I said, pulling my arm from his grasp. Even though the stone was small, my wound ached and I didn't want anyone touching it.

"It's small," he said. "I think we can hide it inside. Then the wound will close, and no one will ever find the stone."

I looked at my wound, then quickly nodded. Both of our eyes shone with excitement. He gently pressed the stone onto my wound, and it sank right into my skin and disappeared. It was the most astonishing thing I had ever seen, and strangely, it didn't hurt at all. The boy started laughing, and I joined in.

"It's a secret!" he said knowingly. "You can't tell anyone. Just the two of us."

"Our secret," I whispered. It was my very first secret, and I wasn't going to tell a soul. Amazon woman's word.

We played games every day for a month, always meeting under the same tree. His name was Cesur. He constantly talked to me about wolves-they were the reason for the scar on his neck, though he insisted it didn't hurt much. He even promised to introduce me to them one day, claiming the wolves were his friends.

I don't know how many days I waited for Cesur under that tree, but he never came back. Even though I've lost track of the years, I'm still waiting for him deep down. I don't even know if I would recognize him if I saw him after all this time, and sometimes I even doubt whether he's still alive.

Our secret is still safe. I never dared to tell anyone about our mischief. We trusted each other, and I still do.

The wound on my arm has never healed. Some nights the pain is so intense that I've considered slicing it open to pull the stone out.

The only thing stopping me is the promise I made to Cesur.

Chapter Two

I was eighteen years old, and I had a decision to make: should I venture into the woods despite my grandfather's ban, or remain sitting on this porch?

The seeds of hope I planted within myself grew every day. I didn't know how I managed to deceive myself so well, but every time I looked toward the forest, the chance of seeing him felt more real. I kept believing that Cesur was waiting for me at the very spot where we first met.

I was more angry with myself than with my grandfather for being unable to forget him. Beyond being my first friend, I believed Cesur was my first love. I knew I wasn't truly in love with him yet, but forgetting him was impossible when I carried a piece of him inside my body.

The light of the giant full moon had already begun to illuminate the surroundings. I took the last sip of chilled tea from my cup and stood up to go to bed. I struggled to cover a yawn with my hand as I quietly climbed the stairs, and as soon as I crawled into bed, I let myself fall into the arms of sleep.

Two seconds before a giant wolf lunged at me, my eyes snapped open, and I lifted my head from the pillow. The throbbing pain in my arm made my entire body ache-that damn night had come for me again. I knew I would spend the rest of the night in agony. I took a painkiller from my drawer and swallowed it, though medicine barely helped anymore.

I got out of bed, massaging my arm, and began pacing the room. As the full moonlight streamed through my window, I opened it to get some fresh air and inhaled deeply. Distant howls echoed from the far side of the forest. I remembered Cesur saying the wolves were his friends; I still clung to that childish dream and believed everything he told me. I was sure he was somewhere out there right now, listening to them howl. I didn't know if he ever thought of me-I wasn't even sure he remembered me-but the hope blooming inside me hadn't shed its leaves yet.

The painkiller must have taken some effect, as I eventually drifted back to sleep. When I woke up in the morning, all traces of last night's pain were gone.

It was Sunday, which meant my grandfather had likely gone fishing at the lake. I went down to the kitchen, prepared a light breakfast, and took my place on the porch. Chewing on a piece of bread, I kept my eyes fixed on the path leading into the woods. I was eighteen now, and I had made my decision-despite my grandfather.

I hurriedly set my plate down and rushed upstairs to my room. I pulled a sweater and a pair of jeans out of my closet and changed. Even if I didn't find Cesur, I missed the forest and was eager to visit my tree after all this time. I darted back down the stairs, put on my shoes, and ran along the trail as fast as I could.

When the path gave way to the dense forest, I paused for a moment to catch my breath, questioning if I was truly sure about this. Just like before, I needed to be back home before my grandfather returned.

Of course, I couldn't pass by without plucking a few blackberries along the trail and popping them into my mouth. At eighteen, I finally settled the debate I couldn't resolve at seven: I was certain I liked blackberries more than strawberries.

Finally, I reached the grand old tree where everything had begun. It had grown a bit larger, but time hadn't taken away its majesty-it stood before me as powerful as ever.

I looked around with a faint flicker of hope, feeling foolish. There was hardly anything around except a few birds. I reminded myself I hadn't come here expecting anyone anyway. I sat on the ground with my back pressed against the trunk and began filling my lungs with the clean scent of the forest. The odds of him having left the city or even the country were far higher than the chances of seeing him here now. I had to accept reality: Cesur was gone.

A sudden crackling sound in the brush snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned my head, straining to listen as the noise grew louder. I couldn't bring myself to move until the sound became unmistakable. I had heard a sound just like this the day I first met Cesur, but I wasn't sure if I possessed the same courage I had back then. Should I investigate, or turn around and walk away without looking back? My mind froze, entirely focused on the approaching noise. I quickly scrambled to my feet and turned around.

Maybe it was him. I needed to gather my courage and see what-or who-was there. The pounding of my heart echoed in my ears. Was my heart racing out of terror or the desperate hope of seeing Cesur again? I wasn't sure which was worse. *An Amazon woman,* I reminded myself. *I'm an Amazon woman, and I can't be a coward.*

Even as I thought this, my feet were already carrying me toward the sound. With every step, I felt as though my heart might burst.

Then, I froze in my tracks.

Standing right in front of me were five wolves-the largest I had ever seen in my life. *An Amazon woman?* In that moment, I was no different from a helpless gazelle. I needed a plan immediately, like running away. But I knew the instant I took a single step, I would become prey.

When the largest wolf on the right began to stalk around me with its head low-like a lion closing in on its target-I fought the urge to collapse and faint. Surround by five alert wolves, I didn't dare move a muscle, watching the creature circle me without even turning my head.

As it moved to my left, a low growl vibrated through the air. In response, the other four wolves bared their knife-like teeth and joined in the growling.

*This is it,* I thought. *I'm done for. This is the end. Goodbye, life.* I wished I had the chance to hug my grandfather one last time. I hadn't listened to him, and now I had paid the price. *An Amazon woman? You're just a frail girl.*

Bracing myself, I glanced at the wolves, wondering if I even had time to pray. There didn't seem to be any.

"Asli."

When I heard my name, my frozen body suddenly thawed. I spun around toward the voice.

Cesur.

The boy I had waited years for was standing right before me. I couldn't decide what was more shocking-that he still remembered my name, or that he was actually here. But even without checking for the scar on his neck, I knew it was him.

The fragile boy I had left at nine years old stood before me at twenty, far taller and stronger than I was. There was no trace of the timid child I first met; now, I was the one who resembled the nine-year-old Cesur-terrified and trembling.

The five wolves behind me seemed to vanish like a dream. The only thing consuming me was sheer intensity. The moment I looked at Cesur, his fear became tangible, wrapping around me. His furrowed brows, tight lips, and tense posture made him look as though he were defying the five wolves behind me, ready for battle at any moment.

"Get out of here!" he barked.

Why was he so terrified? Was it the thought of both of us being torn apart by wolves, or the realization that if I left, I might never see him again? I couldn't decide which was worse. Yet, having seen him once more, I felt as though I could die happy.

I shook my head; I didn't want to leave. I couldn't abandon my childhood friend to a pack of wolves. I wanted to fight beside him, if only I weren't so paralyzed by fear.

A sudden rustle behind me made me shiver. Unlike me, Cesur stepped forward, his expression darkening as he glared past me at the wolves.

"Run!" he screamed.

Overridden by panic, my feet moved against my will, obeying his command. I ran as fast as I could, heading back toward the path. Even when my lungs burned like a bomb about to explode, I didn't stop until my house came into view. The moment I collapsed onto the porch, tears burst from my eyes.

I thought about going back to save him, but I knew I was powerless. I was a coward, and I would never forgive myself for leaving the person I had waited years for alone with five wolves in the vast forest.

*He's dead. He's dead. He's dead.*

Voices screamed relentlessly inside my head.

I sat on the porch steps, weeping uncontrollably, unable to tear my eyes away from the trail. I stayed in that exact spot, waiting for him to emerge. If he came back, I promised myself I would throw my arms around his neck and never let him leave again.

I waited all night. No one came except my grandfather. When he asked what had happened, I broke down, sobbing hysterically for hours: "He's dead!" Though he couldn't understand what I meant, he sat beside me for hours, watching the empty path with me.

I don't know when I finally drifted off to sleep, but when morning came, Cesur still hadn't returned.

I don't remember when I made it back to my bed, but the voices coming from downstairs were loud enough to wake me from my sleep. Someone was arguing, and I was certain one of them was my grandfather. I climbed out of bed and crept toward the stairs.

When I recognized Cesur's voice, I paused on the steps to listen and figure out what was happening before going down.

"You're leaving right now. I can't afford such irresponsibility. Get him out of here," Cesur said. The sharp, disrespectful tone he used with my grandfather immediately got on my nerves.

"Where are we supposed to go?" my grandfather asked.

Was my grandfather actually meeting with Cesur all this time? Why had he felt the need to hide something like that from me when he had witnessed me calling out for my childhood friend for years?

Cesur continued, "I told you not to send her into the woods. You don't follow the rules."

When I walked down the stairs, both of them stopped talking and looked at me. There were no tears in Cesur's clothes, his hair was neat, and his face was completely unscathed-not a single scratch or bruised eyebrow. While I had been convinced he was dead, he was standing right in front of me in one piece.

My grandfather was sitting in a chair by the kitchen counter, looking as if he wanted to make sure I hadn't heard what was said. I didn't know how much of their conversation I had caught, but what I did hear stabbed my heart like a knife.

The man who had raised me, with whom I had shared a home for years, had clearly lied to me. And the other man-the childhood friend I had waited years for, my first love-wanted me gone.

I didn't know what to say. It was so hard to find my voice. I wanted to ask my grandfather if he had been seeing Cesur all along. I wanted to demand an explanation from Cesur as to why we had to leave. I wanted to scream that I wasn't going anywhere. He owed me an answer for how he had survived among those wolves. I had cried so much for him that I didn't even have a single tear left to shed.

I stared at Cesur in silence, verifying that he was completely unharmed.

Before I could say a word, Cesur moved to end the encounter. He turned away from me, walked toward my grandfather, placed his hand on the table, and leaned in slightly. "Just go," he said coldly.

If he hadn't sounded so confident, I might have cursed him right then and there.

He crossed the hallway and stepped out onto the porch. Without looking back, he headed down the path toward the main road.

Was he really just leaving? I had to do whatever it took to stop him. Ignoring my bare feet, I bolted after him down the stony path. I didn't care if there were five or thirty-five wolves out there-I just needed to reach him.

I didn't stop until I caught up with him. I threw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly so he wouldn't go. It didn't matter where he had been all these years or why he hadn't come for me; I just didn't want him to walk away again.

When he wrapped his arms around my waist, a wave of relief washed over me. "I don't want to go," I whispered in his ear. "I don't want you to leave."

"Go," he repeated quietly.

I wanted to snap his neck. I wanted to kill him right there and dig his grave myself.

"I will find you," he added.

My anger flared up instantly. I unclasped my arms from his neck and pushed his hands off my waist, wanting to rid myself of his embrace entirely.

I stared at Cesur's face for a long time. I wasn't sure if I even wanted him to find me, but one thing was certain: I was leaving. There were things in my life I needed to leave behind and forget.

I turned around and walked back home, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. I didn't bother looking back.

When I reached the house, my grandfather was still sitting in the same spot. I sat down on one of the stools beside him. Even though he wasn't looking at me, I could see how deeply remorseful he felt.

My grandfather was a tall man-I had always compared him to my favorite tree in the forest. Although his hair and beard had turned white, he was still the most charismatic man I knew. He wasn't the type to bow down to anyone, nor would he let anyone crush me. Seeing him sit in silence before a young man made me realize this wasn't the right moment to demand answers. We had a long journey ahead of us to talk.

"I think we should go to England," I said, putting my hand over his. "Besides, you always wanted me to go to college. Maybe I can continue my education there."

"If you don't want to go-" he began, but I cut him off. Seeing that he was still thinking of my well-being softened my anger.

"No, Grandpa, I want to go. I've been thinking about studying for a while now. This is a good opportunity," I said, trying to sound hopeful. "We can stay with my aunt for a bit until we find a place of our own. And of course, we'll come back after I finish my studies."

"Ezgi is starting university this year too. We can study together," I added happily, clapping my hands to break the gloomy atmosphere in the room. "Come on, big guy. Time to pack."

The smile on my face was contagious, and his tension melted into a soft smile.

In my room, I pulled out my suitcases and began packing. I planned to leave at the first light of dawn. I booked our tickets online, packed my belongings, and then helped my grandfather with his.

After double-checking that all the windows were locked, I stepped out onto the porch one last time while my grandfather loaded our luggage into the taxi. I turned the key in the lock.

I wasn't sad; I was furious. The more I thought about Cesur, the angrier I became-mostly at myself for being naive enough to think he was still the innocent boy from my childhood.