Kael nodded after hearing the boy's words.
Then, suddenly, his gaze shifted—piercing deep into the forest, as if reaching for something just beyond the edge of his senses.
But only darkness greeted him. Thick. Impenetrable.
He looked away.
---
Deep in the forest. Where Kael's eyes had searched.
Two figures, swallowed by the night.
One sat perched on the branch of a high tree. The other leaned against the trunk, arms crossed over his chest.
"Terrifying. If we got any closer, he'd feel us."
The standing one broke the silence.
"So? He is the old man's apprentice, isn't he? "
The seated figure didn't answer immediately. But his eyes caught the light—or rather, they emitted it. Two different colors, glowing faintly in the dark.
"What bothers me," the seated one said slowly, "is that the boy found things in Leonard's house. Things we missed." A pause. "What exactly are you trying to accomplish? "
The other shrugged.
"What do you mean? Even I make mistakes sometimes."
The seated one's voice dropped. Soft. Final.
"If you do anything that threatens us, I'll kill you."
A breath. Not quite a laugh.
"You're terrifying, you know that?" The standing one shook his head. "Of all people, you're the last one I'd want as an enemy." A pause. "But don't worry."
Silence.
"So. What do you think?"
The standing one turned toward the distant village.
"The decay happened faster than we expected. I think Leonard did something to the stone."
"What do you mean?"
A shrug. A hand scratching the back of his neck.
"I don't know."
The seated one's eyes narrowed. "Wait. You interrogated him."
A smile. Slow. Deliberate.
"He didn't tell me anything."
"Hours." The seated one rose now, his voice cutting through the dark like a blade. "You tortured him for hours. And he told you nothing?"
The standing one searched for an excuse—found it quickly.
"Some people are stronger than they look."
A scoff.
"Sly old fox." The seated one looked down, his voice dripping with something between amusement and contempt. "I don't know what the Chief sees in you, honestly."
A pause. Then the standing one shifted, uncrossing his arms.
"Well. At least he'll be happy with the result." He let his hands fall to his sides. "I'm leaving now. What about you?"
He didn't wait for an answer.
Leaves gathered around him—swirling, rising—and when they settled... he was gone.
Silence. Long. Heavy.
The one who remained didn't move. He kept staring at the empty space where his companion had stood moments ago. Then, quietly, to himself:
"I think I'll play with Kael a little."
He jumped.
Before he reached the ground...
...he vanished.
---
"I hid it in my house."
Karl said with a smile, after receiving Kael's nod.
"Where is your house?" James replied. "Is it close?"
"Not too far," Karl answered.
"Alright. We'll part ways here," Kael said, thinking. "I'll go. You stay with James."
"What about my sister?" Karl asked, his fist tightening.
"We'll handle it," Kael replied quietly.
Karl hesitated. Then nodded.
Kael turned and disappeared into the darkness.
James pulled the child closer.
---
Guided by the child's directions, Kael left toward the requested home.
He emerged from the forest.
In the village, there was that familiar silence—though he'd never quite grown accustomed to it, despite the countless villages he'd dealt with.
After some time, he found himself before a two-story brick house.
In front of the door sat a woman.
Her eyes were void, yet fixed on something—as if yearning for something she could no longer remember.
She wasn't disturbed by the newcomer, nor was Kael disturbed by her.
He opened the door and simply walked in.
Darkness greeted him, as if the occupants hadn't bothered to turn on any lights.
He headed toward the room Karl had indicated.
Climbing a few wooden steps, he reached it.
In front of the room sat a little girl.
He looked at her hands—they seemed burned, though the girl appeared unconcerned by it.
Seeing her, Kael understood why Karl had been so eager to help them. He wanted to save his sister and mother.
"Have you seen my brother?" The girl's voice snapped him from his thoughts.
"My brother—I'm looking for him. He never stays out this late. Have you seen him?"
The girl continued speaking to Kael, who ignored her question.
What could he possibly tell her? Or him?
He knew better than anyone that hesitation meant regret.
He entered the room, found a simple wooden cabinet, opened it, and took the stone.
Then he left in silence, undisturbed.
Behind him, a red mark remained on the handle he'd just touched—as if it had been subjected to unbearable heat.
---
Karl and James sat beneath a tree. The lantern rested on the ground between them. The only sound was the distant screech of cicadas.
Karl stared at his hand. Then he lifted his head abruptly:
"Will he come back?"
James didn't look at him. "Yes."
"How do you know?"
James turned. Looked at the boy. A long look.
"Because he knows what it means to lose someone."
Karl swallowed. For a moment, he saw something in James's eyes he couldn't quite understand. An old grief. Another scar, but an internal one.
"You... lost someone too?"
James didn't answer. Just returned to staring into the darkness.
"Maia's not dead," Karl said suddenly, in a voice that wanted to be certain. "She's just... changed."
"I know."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've seen them. Many times." James rubbed his face with his palm. "They change. Their eyes die before their bodies do."
Karl felt a chill creep up his spine. He looked toward the village. Toward his home. Toward Maia.
"Can she be brought back?"
Silence. Long. Heavy.
Then James said, his voice low:
"I've never seen anyone return."
The silence returned. Karl crawled a little closer to the lantern. Toward the light.
"But Kael..." Karl whispered. "You said his mother died. How does he still fight?"
Here, for the first time, James smiled. A sad smile.
"That's the question, boy. That's the real question."
Then they heard footsteps.
Karl turned quickly. But James placed a hand on his shoulder. Pressed. Waited.
The footsteps were slow. Heavy. But they weren't alone.
There was something else.
James stood.