The Little Wizard and the Secrets of the Forest

By BOUMMI

"The Little Wizard and the Secrets of the Forest" is an enchanting tale about Elior, a young boy who dreams of magic. A mysterious whisper draws him into an enchanted forest where he discovers ancient secrets and a hidden magical power. As Elior faces a shadow threatening to consume the woods, he uncovers that true magic lies not in spells, but in a heart that believes in kindness, courage, and friendship, in a captivating journey of self-discovery and safeguarding a world woven with light and hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BOUMMI
• Release date: Oct 10, 2025
• ISBN: 9798232664879

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Whispers of Eldoria

In the quiet village of Oakhaven, nestled like a forgotten jewel against the imposing emerald curtain of the Whispering Woods, young Elior often found himself gazing towards the forest’s shadowed embrace. His small frame, usually clad in patched trousers and a hand-me-down tunic, would lean against the rough bark of the ancient oak in his backyard, his eyes wide with a longing that transcended his ten years. The other children of Oakhaven preferred the dusty lanes of the village for their games, their boisterous laughter echoing amidst the thatched roofs, but Elior’s spirit was drawn to the hushed mysteries beyond the last hedgerow, to the place where sunlight dappled through leaves like scattered gold coins.

Oakhaven was a village of farmers and artisans, their lives tethered to the rhythm of the seasons, their days filled with the honest toil of the earth and the clang of the blacksmith’s hammer. Magic, if it was ever spoken of, was relegated to hushed tales told by grandmothers around crackling hearths—stories of ancient guardians, mischievous sprites, and the elusive forest spirits that were said to watch over their sleepy hamlet. For most, these were merely fanciful narratives, charming distractions from the practicalities of daily existence. But for Elior, these whispers ignited a fervent, secret hope.

His grandmother, Elara, with her silver hair often escaping its braid and eyes that held the wisdom of countless sunsets, was the only one who truly understood his fascination. She would sit beside him on the weathered porch swing, a basket of mending forgotten in her lap, and spin tales of Eldoria, the mythical realm said to exist deep within the Whispering Woods. The forest has a heart, little one, she’d often say, her voice soft as a dove’s coo, and that heart beats with secrets only the truly brave and kind can uncover. Elior would listen, his own heart thrumming in anticipation, a silent promise forming within him.

His parents, though loving, were practical folk. His father, a sturdy man with calloused hands from working the fields, saw the forest as a source of timber and game, a place of honest sustenance. His mother, gentle and quick with a smile, worried about the dangers that might lurk within its depths—wild beasts, treacherous bogs, and the unpredictable moods of nature. They encouraged Elior’s imagination but gently steered him towards more grounded pursuits, hoping he would one day take over the family farm. Yet, Elior’s dreams soared far beyond the tilled earth and neatly fenced pastures.

He yearned for the impossible, for the spark of magic that he felt, inexplicably, resided deep within him. He spent countless afternoons poring over the few worn books in his grandmother’s small collection, ancient tomes filled with faded illustrations of celestial maps and forgotten runes. He practiced small gestures with his hands, mimicking the motions he imagined a real wizard would make, feeling a faint tremor of energy that he desperately hoped was magic, not just his own vivid imagination. Each unsuccessful attempt, though disheartening, only fueled his resolve, strengthening his belief that one day, his magic would awaken.

One crisp autumn evening, as twilight painted the sky in hues of lavender and bruised plum, Elior found himself at the very edge of the Whispering Woods. The air grew cooler here, carrying the earthy scent of damp leaves and ancient moss. The tall trees loomed, their upper branches forming an intricate, shadowy canopy that seemed to hold its breath. A thrill, a mixture of apprehension and exhilarating curiosity, coursed through him. It was a familiar sensation, this pull towards the unknown, a silent conversation between his soul and the forest’s profound silence.

Suddenly, a sound, distinct and ethereal, pierced the stillness. It wasn’t