The village had fallen silent.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Every eye was fixed on the cloaked stranger standing beyond the gate.
The wind blew gently across the road.
The stranger remained completely still.
Watching.
Waiting.
Feroz felt uneasy.
Not because the figure looked dangerous.
Because he couldn't feel anything from them.
No anger.
No power.
No presence.
Nothing.
It was as if the stranger wasn't there at all.
The old man stepped forward.
Only a few paces.
Then stopped.
"Who are you?"
His voice carried clearly across the road.
The stranger didn't answer.
The villagers exchanged nervous glances.
Ayan shifted uneasily beside Feroz.
"This isn't normal."
Feroz kept his eyes on the figure.
Nothing about this felt normal.
The old man tried again.
"State your purpose."
Still nothing.
Silence.
Then—
the stranger took another step forward.
The village bell rang immediately.
A loud warning.
Several villagers stepped back instinctively.
The old man's expression hardened.
Now he looked concerned.
Very concerned.
The stranger finally stopped.
Then slowly raised a hand.
Not in attack.
Not in threat.
Simply raising it.
Something small fell from their hand onto the road.
A metallic sound echoed softly.
Clink.
The object rolled across the stone path.
Coming to rest near the gate.
The stranger lowered their hand.
Then spoke.
For the first time.
A calm voice.
A young voice.
"I'm not here to fight."
The entire village remained silent.
The old man didn't move.
"Then why are you here?"
The stranger pointed.
Not at the village.
Not at the old man.
At Feroz.
Immediately the atmosphere changed.
Ayan stepped slightly in front of Feroz.
Instinctively.
Without thinking.
The stranger noticed.
But didn't react.
"I came for him."
Nobody liked that answer.
Especially Feroz.
The old man's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
The stranger was silent for a moment.
Then answered.
"Because he doesn't belong here."
Those words instantly annoyed Feroz.
Before anyone else could speak—
he stepped forward.
"I just got here."
A few villagers looked shocked.
Nobody normally interrupted conversations like this.
The stranger looked directly at him.
Even beneath the hood—
Feroz could feel their attention.
"Exactly."
The answer made even less sense.
The old man walked toward the object lying on the road.
He carefully picked it up.
The moment he saw it—
his face changed.
Shock.
Real shock.
Ayan noticed immediately.
"What is it?"
The old man didn't answer.
His eyes remained fixed on the object.
Slowly—
he turned it around.
Feroz finally saw it.
A broken metal symbol.
Ancient.
Damaged.
But familiar.
Very familiar.
His heart skipped a beat.
Because he had seen something almost identical before.
Haroon.
Years ago.
The valley.
The warning about the one who had failed.
The man who had been transformed.
The old man looked back at the stranger.
His expression now completely serious.
"Where did you get this?"
The stranger answered immediately.
"It belonged to my father."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Even the wind seemed to stop.
The old man's grip tightened.
Ayan looked confused.
Feroz felt his chest tighten.
Because something important had just happened.
Something connected to the past.
The stranger slowly lowered the hood.
Revealing a young man.
Close to Feroz's age.
Dark hair.
Sharp eyes.
Tired expression.
Not a warrior.
Not a monster.
Just a young man.
Yet the old man looked as if he had seen a ghost.
"No..."
The words escaped his mouth quietly.
The stranger nodded.
"My name is Sameer."
Nobody spoke.
Then Sameer looked directly at Feroz.
And said something that immediately changed everything.
"My father chose the Path of Change."
A pause.
Then:
"And he never came back."