His eyes grew quicker, his steps slower, and every sound around him began to pass through his mind like a warning.
Then—
Something else began to force itself on him.
Hunger.
At first it was light, just a feeling that could be ignored, but with every step, and with every scent that passed beside him, it became clearer, as if his body was reminding him of the truth he had been trying to postpone.
A faint sound came from his stomach.
He stopped at once.
Looked around.
No one noticed.
But he pressed his hand lightly against his stomach, pushing down on it.
"This is not your time..."
he said in a low voice.
But the truth was clearer than denial.
"If I don't eat... I won't keep going."
He raised his head.
Looked toward the direction the smells were coming from.
The market.
He moved toward it, but with greater caution this time, because the place was open now, and there were more people.
Kael stopped at the edge of the market. His eyes moved slowly between the vendors, the carts, and the people, and everything before him looked close... within reach, and yet at the same time far away, as though there were an invisible barrier between him and this place. The smells of fresh bread and ripe fruit slipped toward him, twisting his stomach with painful force and reminding him of what he had been trying to delay since the previous night.
Only then did he stop, as though an idea had suddenly fallen into his mind. He slipped his hand inside his clothes, searched quickly, then pulled out the small pendant.
He lifted it before his face and stared at it for a long moment, as though testing whether it still responded, or whether it had failed him like the mark had.
"I remembered... I don't know whether you still work... or whether you've stopped too."
He brought it closer, until the engraved eye on it stood directly before his sight, then said in a steady low voice:
"O Foreseeing Eye... show me the path that does not fail."
A moment passed without anything happening.
Then the light inside it began to rise slowly, a faint pulse, then another slightly stronger, until the beat became clear, as though the eye were waking from some deep distance. In that same moment, his sensation changed, as if the voice came from within him rather than from outside.
— "Steal..."
Kael froze.
He did not move.
Then—
— "Run..."
His chest tightened, the vision around him warped, the sounds dropped away, and the image changed.
He saw himself standing in the same place, but the movement around him was different, as though time had slipped into another path. A man passed beside him, wearing an officer's uniform, his steps confident, his gaze straight ahead, never turning. Kael fixed his eyes on him, watched him for a measured moment, then moved suddenly, with a speed that held no hesitation. He reached out from behind, seized him tightly, pressed over his mouth and lower jaw, and stopped any sound from escaping. The officer struggled for a brief moment, then his movements gradually weakened until his body slackened.
Kael dragged him into a narrow corner between two walls, lowered him gently, then gave him a short look.
"I'm sorry."
He began stripping the uniform off quickly, but carefully this time. Every movement was measured, every piece pulled free without sound. It was no longer just haste... it was concentration, because any mistake now could expose him before he took even one step.
He put on the shirt first, then the light armor, tightened the belt firmly, adjusted it around his waist, then raised the cloth and wrapped it around his head, hiding his features.
He stood.
Took a short breath.
Then moved one step.
Then another.
He tested himself.
Everything seemed... convincing.
But—
When he lowered his gaze to his chest—
He stopped.
It was not just an ordinary piece of cloth.
There was a mark there.
Placed clearly on the chest, stitched neatly, in a slightly darker color, impossible to ignore for anyone looking directly at it.
He lifted his hand slowly.
Touched it.
Then pulled the cloth slightly closer to his eyes.
And read.
"Officer — Kairen"
He froze.
His eyes stayed fixed on it.
Then he read it again in silence, slower this time, as though the name carried more weight than it should.
"Officer... Kairen..."
The name slipped from between his lips, low.
He lowered his hand slightly, but his gaze did not move.
"It's not just a rank..."
he said in a faint voice.
"This is a name people know... and call..."
He raised his head slowly.
"I have to act as though I'm him..."
he told himself, this time clearly.
"Otherwise... I won't get out of here."
He took a deep breath.
Then he moved.
One steady step.
Then another.
He no longer looked like a stranger.
But like an officer...
carrying his name on his chest—
and one who might be called by it...
at any moment.
And Then
Kael stepped out of the alley with a slow step. It was neither confident nor fully hesitant, but measured, as though his body were moving while his mind still remained behind him in the shadow. He stopped for a brief moment at the line between darkness and light and looked ahead. The market was clear, wide, full of movement, and it did not resemble the alleys he had come from. Here there was nowhere to hide. Everything was open, everything visible, and every person seemed as though they knew where they were going and what they were doing.
He drew a slow breath.
Then entered among the people.
He did not hurry, and he did not stop. He simply walked. But he felt every step more than he should—the sound of his foot against the ground, the brush of his shoulder against a passerby, the brief glances that passed over him and vanished. Everything was clear, exposed, as though he alone did not belong to this natural rhythm.
"Move... just move..."
he said inwardly, this time in a clear tone, as if he did not want to allow himself to stop or think any more than necessary.
A man passed beside him carrying a basket.
A woman spoke with a vendor.
A child ran, then came back.
They all moved easily.
And he—
was trying to look like one of them.
But the feeling did not change.
He knew he was different.
Not only in his appearance... but in his very presence here.
He tightened the cloth around his face a little, a small movement, but it did not reassure him. It only increased his feeling that this very thing might be what exposed him. Still, he did not stop. He continued until he reached one of the carts.
Then he stopped.
Looked at what was on it.
Bread.
Fruit.
Simple things... but now they were everything he needed.
He raised his eyes to the vendor.
Did not look long.
He said directly, without introduction:
"Can you give me something quick—bread, fruit? I haven't finished my task yet."
The sentence was clear.
Direct.
Like someone in a hurry.
But—
There was something in it.
Not in the words.
But in the feeling behind them.
The vendor lifted his head.
Looked at him.
Then his eyes dropped at once to his chest.
The mark was clear.
"Officer — Kairen"
His expression changed immediately.
He stood a little straighter.
"Yes, sir."
He began preparing the order quickly.
But while doing so—
his gaze returned.
To Kael's face.
The cloth wrapped around it.
He stopped for a second.
Then another.
He did not speak.
But he noticed.
He noticed that this officer...
was hiding his face.
And that was not something ordinary.
And in that moment—
the voice came.
From a distance.
Clear.
"Officer Kairen!"
Kael did not turn.
Did not move.
He remained as he was.
Looking at the food.
"Officer Kairen!"
A second time.
Closer.
The vendor lifted his head, looked toward the voice, then turned back to Kael and said naturally:
"They're calling you."
Kael stopped.
Raised his eyes to him.
And said without thinking:
"Me?"
The silence was brief.
But clear.
The vendor's look changed immediately.
It was no longer simple observation.
It was suspicion.
He said while looking at the chest mark:
"Yes... you."
Then he added slowly:
"Your name is written."
And at that same moment—
the guard arrived.
He stopped before them.
Looked at Kael.
At the mark.
Then at his covered face.
He remained silent for a moment.
Then said directly:
"Officer Kairen."
Then added, with clear puzzlement in his tone:
"Why are you covering your face?"
Kael did not answer.
He delayed.
And that was enough.
The vendor spoke this time in a clearer voice:
"And also... he didn't respond when his name was called."
The guard fixed his gaze on him even harder.
Took a step forward.
"Who are you—? Remove the covering."
He said it clearly.
In that moment—
everything changed.
The movement of the market no longer mattered.
The sounds were no longer clear.
Everything was compressed into this one point.
Kael was not thinking about conversation.
He was thinking about escape.
Exposed.
Kael moved quickly.
His hand shot suddenly toward the cart. He grabbed whatever he could in a rush—pieces of bread, nearby fruit—gathered them in the cloth wrapped around his head, tied it tightly around them, then lunged away before the shock had fully formed on the vendor's face.
"Thief!"
The cry rose.
Heads turned.
Voices followed.
"Catch him!!!!"
Movement turned into chaos, feet crossing, hands pointing, shouts rising, but Kael did not stop. He ran between the people, swung around the cart, then hurled himself toward a nearby wall. He planted his foot, drove his body upward, and climbed fast until he reached the roof.
And from there he did not slow.
He jumped.
From one roof to the next.
A step on an edge, a powerful push, a quick landing, then a second jump and a third, the air striking his face, his breath speeding up, but his eyes stayed forward only. He did not look back, he did not allow hesitation to return.
At last he stopped on a slightly higher roof, an open place overlooking a quiet alley. He bent, put his hand on his knee, and started catching his breath. His chest rose and fell quickly, and the sweat cooled on his brow.
Below—
there was quiet movement.
A woman walking, and beside her a small child. She carried a basket filled with unfamiliar fruit, bright golden in color, as though the light clung to it. Kael noticed that glow at once, and fixed his gaze on the basket without realizing it.
The child looked at his mother, then at the basket, and said:
"Mother, what is the name of that big tree?"
She answered calmly:
"That is the Tree of Nureen. Its fruit strengthens the body and helps healing."
The child lifted his head slightly.
"And will this fruit heal me?"
She smiled.
"It will help you, Dan, and it will make you feel stronger."
In that moment—
Kael was not only looking at them.
He was looking at the basket.
At those fruits specifically.
The faint glow coming from them was not normal. It was not just reflected light, but something deeper... something he felt before he understood it.
His eyes fixed on them more firmly.
And something inside him stirred.
"These are not ordinary fruits..."
The thought passed through his mind quickly, then another followed it, clearer, closer to need:
"If they heal... they might restore the balance of my body."
He drew in his breath slightly, his eyes never leaving the basket.
"Maybe... this is what I need."
But—
at that same moment—
the child lifted his head higher... and saw him.
And his gaze stopped
above.
At the edge where Kael stood.
He froze for a moment, as though his mind had not understood what he was seeing at once. Then his eyes widened, and the expression on his face changed suddenly.
"Mother..."
His voice came out weak at first, then clearer:
"There's someone... looking at us from above."
Kael's gaze remained fixed.
But this time—
he was no longer merely watching.
He had been exposed.
The woman lifted her head quickly, her eyes met him directly, she stepped back, and her voice came out sharp:
"Who are you—?!"
The cry spread through the alley, then stretched outward, as though the whole village caught it in a single moment.
"There's someone there!"
"Catch him!"
The disturbance returned.
Kael moved at once. He ran along the edge, jumped to a neighboring roof, then another, trying to get away, to disappear between the roofs before anyone reached him.
But—
his foot slipped.
A brief moment.
His balance broke.
And he fell.
The distance was not very high, but it was enough for him to strike the ground hard. He hit first on his side, then on his arm, and slid a little across the rough dirt. He did not scream, but the pain passed through his body in a sharp rush that threw off his breathing for a moment. He remained still for a second, as if his body had forgotten how to rise, then began to lift himself slowly, leaning on his hand, trying to gather himself again.
He raised his head.
And the sun was directly before him.
Its disk was clear, strong, and its rays struck his eyes mercilessly, forcing him to lift his hand quickly to block the light and see clearly. He narrowed his eyes, tried to steady his gaze despite the confusion and pain, and only then did the image before him begin to sharpen little by little.
An army of armored ostriches.
A full line of them.
Their large bodies were still, and faded golden armor covered their chests and necks, making them like a living wall standing before him. Above them the guards were spread in their positions, their eyes turned directly toward him, their swords drawn and raised clearly, waiting only for a single order.
Kael felt the air tighten around him.
There was no road.
Not to the right.
Nor to the left.
Only this silent row of organized force, standing before him as if it had been waiting for him from the very beginning.
Then he heard footsteps.
Light.
Steady.
Approaching slowly.
His gaze passed beyond the line of ostriches and guards and fixed itself on the direction the sound was coming from. At first he saw only a moving shape against the light, then the features gradually became clear.
Rhea
She was advancing toward him calmly, a sword in her hand, her face steady and without hesitation. On her shoulder was the small ostrich, Iris, still this time, as if it were watching with her in silence. Ria did not hurry, and she did not seem shaken. She came closer as though she knew exactly that the fallen man before her no longer had any place left to run.
Kael tried to steady himself more, to raise his body, to see more clearly, but the vision was growing heavy again, and the light was still striking his eyes, and exhaustion had begun to seep into his limbs within the vision as if it were real.
Rhea stopped a short distance away.
She raised her sword slightly.
And said:
"Who are you, stranger—?"
Kael kept looking at her.
He did not answer.
This time silence was not a choice, but an inability. The image before him was shaking slowly, and the faces and armor and light were all beginning to lose their clear edges, as though the vision itself could no longer hold him.
His head tilted slightly.
Then he fell to one side.
And touched the dirt again.
And in the moment the vision went dark before him—
he lost consciousness