Four Days Later
Aldric stopped coming to breakfast.
The first morning, Grog waited at the cookfire like always. Saved a spot. Watched the path. Ate slowly.
Aldric never appeared.
"He's eating with the other scouts now," Lira said quietly, joining him. "I checked."
Grog nodded. Said nothing.
The second morning, same thing.
The third, Grog stopped waiting.
---
They still saw him. Couldn't avoid it—the camp was too small. Aldric trained with his unit. Ate with different people. Laughed at different jokes.
But when their paths crossed, he looked away.
Didn't speak. Didn't acknowledge. Just... passed by like they were strangers.
"It's better this way," Mirena said on the third evening. They sat in their usual spot, voices low. "He's asking questions. If he stays angry, he stays away from us. Away from whatever the hunters might do."
Lira shook her head. "You don't know Aldric. He doesn't stay angry. He stays hurt. And hurt people do stupid things."
"Like what?"
"Like go looking for answers on their own."
The words hung in the air.
Grog stood. "Where would he go?"
Lira thought. "The village maybe. He still knows people there. Or—" She stopped.
"Or what?"
"The Grove." Her voice was quiet. "He doesn't remember going there during full moons. But somewhere inside—some part of him—might remember anyway. Might feel drawn."
Grog's blood went cold.
"When's the next full moon?"
"Six days."
Six days.
Six days until Aldric walked in his sleep again. Six days until he stood in that clearing, talking to shadows. Six days until—
"He can't go there alone," Grog said. "Not now. Not knowing something's wrong. If he's already suspicious, already looking for answers—"
"He'll find them," Mirena finished. "Or they'll find him."
---
They found Aldric at the stables.
He was saddling a horse—a small, sturdy mare used for short trips. Packed supplies at his belt. Ready to leave.
He looked up when they approached. His face went hard.
"Go away."
"No," Grog said.
Aldric turned back to the horse. "I'm not talking to you. Any of you. You've been lying to me for months. I don't need that."
"You need to listen."
"I don't need anything from you." His voice cracked slightly. "I thought we were friends. All of us. I thought—" He stopped. Swallowed. "Doesn't matter what I thought."
Lira stepped forward. "Aldric. Where are you going?"
"None of your business."
"The village?"
He didn't answer. That was answer enough.
"Why the village?"
Aldric turned. Faced them. His eyes were red-rimmed—from lack of sleep, or crying, or both.
"Because people there knew me as a kid. Before I came here. Before any of you." His voice was rough. "Maybe they remember things I don't. Maybe they can tell me why I'm—" He stopped.
"Why you're what?"
"Forgetting." The word came out like a confession. "I forgot my mother's face yesterday. Just for an hour. Couldn't picture it. Couldn't remember anything about her except—" He pressed a hand to his head. "Something's wrong with me. Really wrong. And none of you will tell me what."
Grog looked at Lira. At Mirena.
They looked back.
Tell him, their eyes said. Or he'll find out on his own. And that could be worse.
Grog took a breath.
"Aldric. There's something we need to show you. Something we should have shown you months ago." He paused. "It won't make sense at first. It might scare you. But you deserve to know."
Aldric stared at him.
"Know what?"
Grog reached into his pouch. Pulled out the stone.
It glowed faintly in the afternoon light. Warm. Alive.
Aldric's eyes fixed on it.
"What is that?"
"A piece of something. Something that's been watching you since you were a child." Grog held it out. "Something that's still watching. Right now."
Aldric didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just stared at the stone like it had answers he'd been seeking his whole life.
"I don't—" He stopped. Swallowed. "I don't understand."
"Neither do we. Not completely." Grog put the stone away. "But we're trying. All of us. That's why we've been watching you. That's why we've been keeping secrets. Because we don't know how to fight this yet. Because we're scared of making it worse."
Aldric's jaw tightened. "You should have told me."
"Yes."
"Months ago. You should have told me months ago."
"Yes."
"I've been going crazy. Thinking I was losing my mind. Thinking I was—" His voice broke. "I thought I was dying. Something in my head. Some sickness. And you just watched. Let me suffer."
Grog had no answer.
Lira stepped forward. "Aldric. We're sorry. Truly. But we're telling you now. And we need your help."
"My help." Bitter laugh. "You've spent months treating me like a child who can't handle the truth. Now you need my help?"
"Yes." Mirena's voice was calm. "Because it's about you. Because you're the only one who can choose what happens next."
Aldric looked at her. "Choose what?"
Mirena glanced at Grog. A question.
Grog nodded.
"There's something inside you," Mirena said quietly. "Has been since you were seven. It's been waiting. Growing. Patient. And one day—not yet, but someday—it's going to ask you for something."
Aldric's face went pale.
"Ask me for what?"
"Everything."
The word hung in the air.
Aldric stood very still.
Then, slowly, he sat down on a supply crate. Like his legs wouldn't hold him anymore.
"I don't—" He stopped. Started again. "I don't remember being seven. Much. Just—" He frowned. "Just being alone a lot. After my mother got sick. Talking to someone. Something. In the dark."
Grog crouched in front of him. "What did you talk about?"
Aldric's brow furrowed. "Comfort, mostly. It told me things would be okay. That I wasn't alone. That it would always be there." He looked up. "It felt like a friend. The only one I had."
"And after your mother died?"
"Still there. More, maybe. It—" He stopped. Swallowed. "It promised to make me strong. Strong enough that no one I loved would ever die again. I just had to—" Another stop.
"Had to what?"
Aldric's eyes were distant. Remembering.
"Trust it. When the time came. Let it help me." He blinked. Came back to the present. "I was seven. I didn't understand. I just wanted the pain to stop."
Grog's chest ached.
The only friend he had when it mattered.
"Aldric." He waited until those brown eyes met his. "That thing—it's still there. Still waiting. Still promising. And someday, when you're facing something you can't beat, it'll offer you that help again."
Aldric was quiet for a long moment.
"What happens if I say yes?"
Grog thought about the cavern. The blood. Lira's hand reaching.
"We all die," he said. "Everyone you love. Including you."
Aldric's face went white.
"What if I say no?"
"Then maybe—" Grog paused. "Maybe we find another way. Maybe we beat whatever's coming without it. Maybe we prove it wrong."
Another long silence.
Then, very quietly: "Is that why you've been watching me? Training so hard? All of it?"
Grog nodded.
Aldric looked at Lira. At Mirena. Back at Grog.
"You've been trying to save me."
"Yes."
"All this time. The secrets. The distance. The—" He shook his head. "You've been trying to save me."
Grog said nothing.
Aldric sat there for a long time.
Then, slowly, something shifted in his face. The hurt didn't disappear—it was still there, deep in his eyes. But something else joined it.
Understanding.
"I'm still angry," he said quietly. "You should have told me."
"Yes."
"But—" He took a breath. Let it out. "I get why you didn't. I think."
Relief flooded through Grog. Not complete—the danger was still there, still watching, still waiting. But this was something.
This was Aldric, knowing.
Aldric, choosing.
Aldric, maybe, starting to fight back.
"So what now?" Aldric asked.
Grog looked toward the trees. Toward the darkness where red eyes watched.
"Now we prepare. We train. We learn everything we can." He met Aldric's eyes. "And when the time comes, we make sure you have something to fight for. Something stronger than fear."
Aldric nodded slowly.
Then, for the first time in days, he almost smiled.
"Okay," he said. "Okay."
Behind them, unseen, three figures melted deeper into the shadows.
Patient.
Always patient.