The Iele: Forest Maidens of the Night

Whispers in the Wind

Ionuț had always been restless. Unlike his father, who was content tending sheep and avoiding trouble, Ionuț longed for adventure. The village felt small, the rolling pastures predictable. The forest, however—that dark, endless stretch beyond the hills—was forbidden, unexplored.

“You must never wander past the old oak,” his father had warned countless times. “Not at night, not even in daylight. The woods do not belong to men.”

Ionuț, of course, paid little mind. He had ventured past the old oak before, had seen the thick mist curling through the underbrush, had heard the occasional rustling of unseen creatures. But nothing had ever happened.

Not until that night.

The wind carried a sound, faint at first—like the soft chime of bells ringing from somewhere deep within the forest. It wasn’t the sound of birds or the usual night creatures. It was music.

A melody so sweet it made his heart ache.

His dog, Brâncuș, whined low in his throat, his ears pinned back. The sheep stirred, huddling closer together. Even the wind seemed to hush, as if listening.

The song drifted closer.

A woman’s voice—no, multiple voices—rose in perfect harmony, their notes weaving through the night air like a spell.

Ionuț’s grip on his staff loosened. His breath slowed.

Something inside him whispered to turn back. But his feet carried him forward.

One step past the fence.

Another into the trees.

The lantern flickered. The world around him dimmed.

And the music called him deeper.

The Dance of Shadows

The trees loomed overhead, their twisted branches like grasping fingers. Moonlight spilled in uneven patches across the forest floor, illuminating a narrow path he had never seen before.

Ionuț followed, drawn forward by a force he didn’t understand.

Then, through the veil of mist, he saw them.

A clearing bathed in silver light.

At its center, they danced.

The Iele—three women, or perhaps more, their forms flickering like candle flames. Their white dresses shimmered as they moved, floating around their bodies like mist. Their bare feet never touched the earth, yet wherever they stepped, the grass beneath them burned.

Ionuț had never seen anything so mesmerizing.

The way they moved, the way their hair—long and untamed—spilled over their shoulders. He couldn’t look away.

Then, one of them turned.

Her eyes met his—golden, glowing, unnatural.

A slow smile spread across her lips. She raised a delicate hand and beckoned.

“Come,” she whispered, her voice like honey dripping into his ears.

Ionuț’s breath hitched. His heart pounded against his ribs.

He knew the stories. He knew what happened to men who joined the Iele’s dance.

But as she stepped closer, the others circling behind her like shadows, the music swelled, drowning out all thoughts.

His feet moved before he could stop them.

One step forward.

Then another.

The Price of Curiosity

The moment he touched her hand, the world shifted.

The air around him became thick, humming with invisible energy. The forest, the night sky, everything beyond the clearing faded into nothingness.

All that remained was the dance.

They moved in a circle, their steps intricate yet effortless. Ionuț had never danced before, yet his body followed the rhythm as if he had known it all his life.

Laughter rang in his ears—soft, musical, but filled with something ancient, hungry.

The first maiden twirled closer, her fingers grazing his skin. Where she touched, heat bloomed, then faded into a strange, numbing cold.

Ionuț barely noticed.

He wanted to keep moving, to never stop.

The moon shone brighter. The clearing spun.

And then, everything went black.

Cursed by the Moon

Pain.

A deep, bone-weary exhaustion settled over Ionuț as he stirred awake. His limbs felt like lead, his head pounding as though he had drunk too much țuică.

Morning light filtered through the branches overhead. He was alone.

For a moment, he thought it had all been a dream.

Then he saw his reflection.

His hair—once dark as the earth—was now as white as the winter snow. His skin looked sickly pale, almost translucent in the sunlight.

He stumbled back to the village, but nothing felt the same.

The sheep recoiled when he neared. Brâncuș, his loyal dog, bared his teeth and backed away.

Then his mother saw him.

She screamed.

His father pulled him inside, bolted the door, and whispered prayers under his breath.

“You should not have gone into the forest,” his father said, voice shaking. “You’ve been marked.”

Ionuț swallowed the lump in his throat. “Marked?”

His father’s face was grim.

“The Iele do not let their chosen go so easily.”

The Eternal Calling

The music never left him.

At night, he heard it—soft, distant, calling from the forest. No matter how hard he tried to resist, it never stopped.

His mother wept. His father prayed. The village priest tried to cleanse him with holy water.

Nothing worked.

His body grew weaker each day. Food lost its taste. Sleep became impossible. His soul was no longer his own.

And then, one night, as the full moon rose, he stopped fighting.

He stepped outside, his bare feet sinking into the cool earth. The wind carried the melody to him, a whisper of familiar voices, waiting.

Ionuț walked.

Through the pastures. Past the old oak. Into the depths of the forest that had claimed him.

And there, in the moonlit clearing, they stood.

Smiling.

Waiting.

Their hands stretched toward him.

“Come back to us.”

And this time, Ionuț did not resist.

He stepped forward, his body light as air.

He danced once more.

And this time, he never stopped.

Epilogue: The Shepherd’s Warning

Years passed, and Ionuț’s name became a warning.

Fathers told their sons never to stray past the old oak. Mothers whispered prayers beneath their breath whenever the wind carried the sound of distant music.

Because some nights, under the full moon, a pale figure could be seen at the forest’s edge.

His hair white as frost. His eyes glowing in the dark.

And if you listened closely, you might hear a song—soft, inviting.

Calling for another partner.

To join the eternal dance.

The End