In the war-torn village of Cragmoor, only the ancient oak tree offered solace. Legends said it could grant wishes if one whispered their deepest secrets to it. Elara, desperate and heartbroken, visited the tree nightly, begging for her love, Calder, who had gone to war and never returned.

One fateful night, as she whispered her plea, the ground trembled, and a dark, hollow voice emerged from the tree. "You seek your love, but war changes men. The Calder you knew may not be the Calder you find." 

Desperate, Elara agreed to pay any price. The ground split open, and from the darkness, Calder's figure emerged. But his eyes, once warm, were now voids of darkness, his face twisted in torment. "Elara," he rasped, his voice an eerie echo. “You should not have brought me back.”

She reached out, but his touch brought only despair. The oak's voice mocked her. “Love and war, Elara. You chose love, but war has claimed his soul.”

As dawn broke, Calder's ghostly form faded into the mist, leaving Elara alone, shattered. The oak stood silent, its secrets buried once more. The villagers continued to whisper their hopes to it, unaware of the true cost. Elara, with her love lost to war's darkness, became just another echo of midnight, a warning to those who dared mix love with war.