Nard sat in the heavy silence of the cave, the air thick with dust and the smell of ancient stone. For a moment, his mind drifted back to the Zaqor family and the cold distance they had maintained, a stark reminder of the isolation that had defined his life until now. He let out a weary sigh, tracing the rough walls of his sanctuary, lost in the shadows of his own thoughts.
Before he could continue his thought, he was startled by a soft voice calling his name. "Nard?" it called again. He looked left and right, heart pounding, but the area was deserted. No one knew of this hiding place. He glanced down at the bird in his hands—the creature he had been certain was dead—and froze. The bird blinked, its beak parting slightly, as it repeated his name.
Shocked, Nard let go of the bird, his eyes wide with disbelief as he scrambled to his feet and ran toward the entrance of the cave. He glanced back over his shoulder, his breath hitching, only to see the bird fluttering through the air, following him. As it circled closer, he noticed the creature looked hauntingly familiar—a distinct, jagged scar ran across its wings, a mark he knew too well. His voice trembling, he whispered, "Claire?"
The memories rushed back, overwhelming him. This bird had vanished into the void immediately following that tragic incident, and Nard had mourned it, certain it was dead. Seeing it alive now, against all reason, felt like a ghost from his past demanding to be acknowledged.
But as the bird drew nearer, the illusion shattered. Up close, the eyes were wrong—void of the warmth he remembered, replaced by a cold, mechanical glint that sent a shiver down his spine. This wasn't Claire; it was a cruel mimicry, a trap laid in the skin of a memory. The realization hit him like a physical blow, and the relief he had felt curdled into raw terror.
He didn't wait for it to speak again. Nard spun around and bolted, his boots skidding on the loose gravel as he burst from the cave's mouth into the blinding light outside. He didn't look back this time. He pushed his lungs to the bursting point, the jagged rocks of the ravine blurring past him as he ran blindly, desperate to put as much distance as possible between himself and the thing that had stolen his friend's face.
The bird didn't let him escape so easily. It swooped down, landing on a jagged outcrop just inches from his face, its mechanical beak curling into a distorted, unnatural smile. "I found you," it chirped, the voice a perfect, chilling echo of the past.