In the heat-drenched forests of Arcadia, where the oaks whisper and the rivers sing secrets to the wind, the god Pan stood barefoot at the edge of a glade, watching him again.

Calix.

A mortal, yes, but touched. Hair the color of chestnut bark, eyes too green to be ordinary. He laughed like water over stones and moved like the world didn’t own him; light on his feet, too brave for his own good.

Pan had watched many mortals. Loved a few. But none like this one.

The world was breaking. Again. And Pan had chosen a champion.

Unfortunately, Calix was an idiot.

“The path is that way,” Pan said, stepping out of the trees and pointing, again, to the overgrown trail winding through a ring of ancient stones.

Calix startled, dropped his satchel. “Gods, you scared me.”

“I am a god,” Pan said, exasperated. “And I keep scaring you. And you keep not listening.”

Calix frowned. “We’ve talked about this. I’m not going through the Stone Ring.”

“You have to.”

“It hums.”

“It’s supposed to hum.”

“It made the dog bark for three hours!”

“She’s a very sensitive dog! Look, I’m telling you, if you go through that path, you’ll find the blade, stop the rising storm, and become the legend you were literally born to be. If you don’t, everything falls apart.”

Calix crossed his arms. “What if I don’t want to be your hero?”

Pan’s jaw tightened. He tried to breathe. Tried to remember the scent of sweetgrass. “I have orchestrated omens for you. Sent you riddles in dreams. Even that weird old man with the turtle shell hat told you where to go. Do you know how hard it is to get Oracles to agree with me these days?”

Calix looked down at the dirt. “I never asked for this.”

Pan’s voice softened. “No one ever does.”

A wind passed through the trees, cool and moss-scented. Pan sighed and sat on a fallen log, suddenly tired in a way gods rarely admit.

“I didn’t pick you because you were perfect,” he said. “I picked you because you see the world clearly, even when it hurts. Because when something’s wrong, you move. Even when you’re scared. Even when it costs you.”

Calix sat beside him.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked quietly.

Pan nodded. “The veil between realms is thinning. The old gods stir. The new ones grow hungrier. If someone doesn’t stand in the breach… they’ll take this place. And you’ll lose the song.”

Calix looked up. “The song?”

Pan smiled, eyes suddenly far away. “The pulse of wildness in all things. The heartbeat of untamed places. It’s quiet now, under concrete and glass. But you still feel it. Don’t you?”

Calix was silent. Then he nodded.

“I feel it in the rivers. In the wind through the cliffs. In the silence before a storm.”

Pan reached out and touched his shoulder. “That’s why it must be you.”

The silence stretched long.

Finally, Calix stood.

He walked to the Stone Ring. It hummed beneath his feet like a distant drum.

Pan watched him.

Calix turned back, smirking slightly. “If I die, I’m haunting you.”

Pan grinned. “If you die, I’m raising you. And you will not like it.”

With a deep breath, Calix stepped into the circle.

There was a flash of light. The trees leaned in. The forest exhaled.

Pan closed his eyes and whispered a prayer. Not to a higher power, but to the boy who now carried his hope like a flame.

“Go, little wild one,” he said. “Take the path. Take the risk. The world is waiting to be saved by someone who still remembers what it means to run barefoot and unafraid.”

And then Pan was alone.

But far off, through the trees, the wind began to hum a melody.

The song had begun again.

And, you just know I can’t neglect the obligatory shameless self-promotion. New Yesterdays is available through the following links: Books-A-Million, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon as well as your favorite bookshops. The Audiobook is available from Libro.fm, as well as Amazon.