I stepped closer to his bed. The blankets were tangled, as if he had risen in a hurry… as if he hadn't had a choice. On the floor, beside the bed, I found the bandage that had covered his wound. I picked it up between my fingers. The blood turned to ash. I let it fall at once. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then I stood and looked at Maelor.
—Let's go.
We went downstairs without lighting a single candle, leaving behind the stillness of the room. The silence in the tavern was thick, almost unnatural, as if even the tables and stools were asleep. When we reached the main hall, we found Garron Bale behind the counter, just as we had left him, cleaning a mug with a calm that did not match the hour… nor our state. He looked up as we approached.
—Guests rarely come down so soon after arriving so exhausted —he said, his voice neither warm nor hostile—. And even less when the rain is just beginning.
I stepped forward.
—One of ours is missing.
The man showed no surprise. Not even curiosity. He simply nodded slowly, as if that sentence belonged to a conversation he had already had too many times.
—Wouldn't be the first —he replied—. Night in Valebrun has… its habits.
Maelor took a step forward.
—What does that mean?
Garron set the mug down with measured care.
—It means there are things best left unpursued in this place —he said—. Especially when you don't yet understand where you are.
I watched him in silence for longer than necessary.
—If you've seen him —I said at last— say it.
The innkeeper shook his head.
—No —he answered—. But if he left… he wasn't the only one.
The words lingered between us, heavy with something that needed no explanation. I didn't press further. We stepped outside. The night air greeted us with a cold drizzle that slipped beneath our clothes and settled against the skin. The streets of Valebrun, which only hours before had seemed strangely welcoming, now stretched before us as something else—narrower, darker, as if the very stones had shifted in our absence. I thought perhaps the rain had brought back that gray tone so characteristic of the valley. We moved in silence. That was when we saw them. They weren't hiding. They weren't trying to go unnoticed. The old woman with the pies stood before a house, barely lit by a crooked lantern hanging above the door. In front of her, a younger woman argued in a low voice, trembling with urgency we could not quite make out from a distance. And between them… a child. They were pulling at his arm, struggling over him. The boy dug his feet into the ground, resisting, but his movements were clumsy, as if something within him was already giving way. The woman spoke, perhaps begged, but her words were lost beneath the sound of rain striking the cobblestones. The old woman smiled. She was always smiling. Then, without warning, the pull became final. The old woman turned, dragging the child with a strength that did not belong to her bent frame, and began to disappear down a narrow alley. The younger woman took a step to follow… but stopped. She didn't scream. She didn't run. She did nothing. She simply stood there, trembling, her arms hanging at her sides. Watching. Maelor tensed beside me.
—Captain… I
did not answer immediately. My eyes followed the old woman until she vanished into the dark.
—No —I said at last. Maelor turned to me.
—No?
—We don't get involved in this —I replied, still staring at the empty alley—. Not yet.
The silence that followed weighed more than any argument. We moved on. Eldran's trail was unclear, but something in the air seemed to guide us in a precise direction, as if the town itself wanted to lead us where we needed to go. We entered a narrow passage between two buildings, where the light barely brushed the damp walls. The ground was uneven, littered with debris that crunched beneath our boots. And then we saw him. Eldran. He stood with his back to us, leaning slightly forward, as if listening to something very close. He was not alone.Before him, a shadow took shape against the wall. It had no clear form. The drizzle blurred its outline. It was… an absence, denser than the darkness around it.
—Eldran —I called.
The shadow moved. Not toward us. It unraveled. Like smoke caught in the wind. And vanished. Eldran turned slowly. His eyes took a second to find us.
—Captain… —he said. His voice sounded normal.
—What are you doing here? —I asked.
—I was talking to Aldric —he replied. He blinked, confused.
Maelor exhaled sharply.
—Aldric is asleep.
Eldran frowned.
—No —he said—. He was here. I watched him in silence.
There was no fear on his face. No doubt. Only a certainty that found no ground in the reality we knew.
—We're going back —I said at last.
The return felt shorter. Or perhaps it only seemed that way. The innkeeper was no longer in the main hall. We went back upstairs. When I opened the door, Aldric was still in his bed. Asleep. Breathing with the calm of someone who had not been disturbed all night. I stepped closer and shook him firmly.
—Wake up.
Aldric's eyes snapped open, as if torn from a deep sleep. For a moment he didn't understand where he was; his gaze moved quickly through the shadows of the room before settling on me, still clouded with confusion.
—What…? —he muttered, pushing himself up.
—Eldran says you were with him.
The young man sat up fully now and turned toward Eldran. The confusion on his face slowly hardened into something sharper, more alert.
—What?
—You were in the alley —Eldran insisted, stepping forward—. We spoke. It wasn't a dream.
Aldric shook his head at once, his certainty brushing irritation.
—I didn't move from here.
—You were there —Eldran repeated, tension creeping into his voice—. I saw you. I heard you. I'm not making this up.
—I didn't leave —Aldric replied, his tone hardening as he locked eyes with him—. I don't know what you saw… but it wasn't me.
—Then what was it? —Eldran snapped—. Another one of your shadows? Another one of your silences?
Aldric stood abruptly.
—Careful what you're implying.
—I'm not implying anything —Eldran shot back, stepping closer—. I'm telling you what happened.
—No —Aldric cut in, his voice dry and sharp—. You're telling us what you think you saw. And in this place… that means nothing.
The air in the room thickened, as if the walls had drawn a few inches closer without anyone noticing.
—I know what I saw —Eldran insisted. And for the first time, there was something more than tension in his voice—. And I know what you're capable of hiding.
Aldric let out a short, humorless laugh.
—Hiding? —he echoed—. Look at yourself first, Eldran. You're the one who vanishes in the middle of the night. The one who comes back talking to… —he gestured vaguely— whatever is out there.
—At least I don't deny what I do —Eldran replied through clenched teeth—. You don't even know who you are when you close your eyes.
—And you do? —Aldric stepped toward him—. Or have you already started hearing voices that tell you what you want to hear?
Maelor stepped between them, just enough.
—Enough —he said, though his voice lacked the strength to fully cut through the tension.
Serah sat up in her bed, watching us with a furrowed brow, her eyes still heavy with sleep but already filled with concern.
—What's going on?
—Eldran saw things —Maelor said, without taking his eyes off the two men.
—Not "things" —Eldran snapped—. Aldric.
Serah slowly shook her head, as if that answer confirmed something she already feared.
—No… —she murmured.
We all looked at her. She lowered her feet to the floor and stood, her expression now hardened.
—That's not it —she said—. Don't you see? It's not you. It's the bruna —the silence tightened. —It plays with what we see. With what we think we know. With what we trust.
Aldric scoffed.
—So now everything is the witch's fault?
Serah met his gaze directly.
—Would you rather believe one of us is lying?
That question struck like a blade in the back. No one answered. Because either possibility was worse. Eldran spoke again, quieter now, but with unsettling certainty.
—I'm not lying.
Aldric held his gaze for a few seconds, as if weighing something he could not name.
—That's exactly what someone would say when they no longer know what's real —he replied at last.
—Enough —I said, cutting the tension before it broke completely—. At dawn, we go see the priest. After that… we look for answers.
I looked at each of them. Aldric. Eldran. Serah. Maelor. I needed to be sure they were listening.
—Until then —I added— no one moves alone. No one trusts what they see without confirmation. And no one… —my voice hardened slightly— makes decisions on their own.
No one argued. But there was no agreement either. And that… was worse. I said nothing about the witch. We lay down again, though rest was no longer truly possible. The exhaustion remained in the body, but the mind refused to yield. I kept my eyes closed for a long time, listening to the uneven breathing around me, feeling the weight of the night settling over us. I don't know when sleep began to take me. But before it fully did, I opened my eyes once more. Eldran was awake. Motionless. Staring at the ceiling. His eyes reflecting what little light remained in the room. I turned to avoid meeting his gaze. And that was when I saw it. Aldric was still wearing his boots. And on them… fresh mud.