In the morning, the village of Farin seemed as though it had never known something called fear. The stone houses were close to one another, the doors half open, and the light slipped quietly into the narrow alleys without disturbing anyone. Some people had started their day early, their steps calm, and their words few but enough, as if everyone here was used to living without the need for tension or caution. Peace was not something to be thought about, but something natural, a part of life, like the sun that rises every day without anyone asking it why.
This calm was tied to one name known by everyone, even if they did not mention it often—King Valen, whose presence was not built on fear or strict laws, but on a balance that made people live without feeling the weight of rule over them. For this reason, the village of Farin did not need high walls to feel safe. Even so, the guards were present.
At the main gate, the soldiers stood in their positions, their spears steady, their gazes following the outer road. Nothing moved there, and nothing called for concern. One of them said, adjusting his stance slightly:
"If Commander Lior saw us now, he would think we're not taking this seriously!"
The other replied lightly:
"And when was there ever anything worth worrying about?"
He did not answer, but returned to watching the road. It was quieter than it should be. As for the hidden gate that had been made for emergencies, it had not been opened for a long time, until its existence had become nothing more than an old idea.
Inside the village, life moved at its usual rhythm. Children ran through the alleys, and people hung decorations in preparation for a simple celebration in the evening. Colored fabrics swayed with the air, and soft voices passed between neighbors. In one of the narrow passages, two children stopped facing each other. One of them held an apple tightly, and the other tried to take it from him.
"It's mine!"
the first said angrily.
"But my mother said we should share!"
the second replied insistently.
The argument was simple, but it was about to grow. Before it escalated, nearby footsteps stopped. A light silence fell. The two children raised their heads at the same moment.
Rhea was standing in front of them.
She did not speak at first. She only looked at them, a calm look, but enough to ease the tension. Then she said:
"What's happening?"
One of them explained hesitantly. She looked at the apple, then at them, and said calmly:
"And in the village of Farin… do we keep things for ourselves only? Or do we live as family?"
No one answered. The child holding the apple lowered his gaze. She did not press him further, but turned and said simply:
"Come with me."
The two children followed her in silence. She walked with them through the alleys, moving slightly away from the center of the village, until she reached a quieter place, where the ground was wider and the air lighter.
There stood the tree.
It was not like the rest of the trees. It was older, its trunk wide, and its branches stretched high as if trying to embrace the sky. Its leaves carried a deeper shade of red, and they shimmered faintly under the light, as though there was a different kind of life within them.
Rhea stepped closer, raised her hand, and picked a fruit with a soft golden color. Then she returned and gave it to the children, saying:
"Share it."
One of them looked surprised:
"But this is from the tree…"
She answered calmly:
"And that is why it is enough."
The children looked at each other, then took it together. This time without argument. The situation calmed as if it had never been anything. Rhea remained for a moment watching them, then turned back toward the village, where preparations for the celebration were increasing, people gathering gradually, lights being lit, and voices rising slightly. Everything moved as it always had.
But that calm did not remain complete.
In a moment no one expected, a faint sound arrived, distant, like a heavy impact somewhere far behind the trees. Some people stopped moving, exchanging quick glances. The sound was not clear enough to understand, but it was not natural either.
At the gate, one of the soldiers tightened his grip on his spear slightly and said:
"Did you hear that?"
The other replied:
"Yes… from the forest."
They did not move immediately, but a slight tension began to slip in. After a few moments, one of them said:
"We should check."
The other nodded in agreement, and some of the guards left toward the sound, while others remained in their places. Caution returned, even if only slightly.
At that moment, what had happened in the forest was far beyond what could be understood from inside the village.
Between the trees, a man was running. His black cloak caught on the branches, and his steps were unsteady, as if he was fighting just to remain standing. His breathing was heavy, and his chest rose and fell violently. He did not look behind him, but he did not need to. The voices of the soldiers were clear, close, chasing him without stopping.
"Catch him!"
"Kael! You won't escape!"
The name echoed between the trees, as if it was chasing him as well. He tried to run faster, but his body no longer obeyed him as it should. He raised his hand with difficulty and whispered short words. A barrier of energy formed in front of the soldiers. They crashed into it forcefully. Their advance stopped for a moment, but it was not enough to end the chase, only to delay it.
He kept running, but he could not maintain his speed. One of the soldiers got closer, his sword raised. In that moment, Kael had to respond. Energy burst from him violently, struck the ground, and exploded—the same sound that reached the village, but here it was stronger, closer, more dangerous. The soldiers stepped back slightly, some of them falling.
It was not a victory.
It was only a chance.
One chance.
He took it.
He kept running, moving away from them, until light began to appear between the trees. Finally, he stopped at the edge of the forest. His body was close to collapse, and his hand trembled clearly. He looked at his hand, at that mark that pulsed with faint energy.
The light whispered in a tired voice:
"Not now…"
Then he slowly raised his head.
In front of him—
Was the village of Farin.
He stood watching it in silence. His breathing had not calmed yet, and his eyes moved between the gate and the guards. The place was quiet, more than it should be, as if it were completely separate from what had happened behind him.
He hesitated for a moment, then looked again at his hand, at the light that was fading further. He realized he no longer had a choice. If he stayed outside, he would be chased. If he entered… it might be another risk. But he did not have the luxury of choosing.
He moved closer cautiously, hiding between the trees, watching the guards at the gate. He waited, observed their movement, their number, the distance—everything. Then he stepped forward. One step. Then another. Until part of his shadow emerged from between the trees.
The guards noticed immediately.
"Who's there?!"
"Don't move!"
One of them raised his weapon, while the other stepped forward carefully.
Kael stood in place, covering part of his face, and said in a low voice:
"I'm lost… just looking for a way."
They were not convinced.
"Go back where you came from!"
"No strangers are allowed in!"
They moved closer.
He did not step back.
He raised his hand with difficulty, his fingers trembling, his breath unstable. He looked at them for a moment, as if he no longer had time to hesitate, then said in a low, tired voice:
"Be still… do not resist… let the exhaustion take you… and surrender to sleep."
Nothing happened at first.
A few seconds passed—
Then their bodies grew heavy. Their steps slowed. Their eyes began to close gradually, until they fell one after another.
It was not strong magic.
Kael did not move immediately. He remained standing in place, watching. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling slowly, his eyes fixed on the nearest soldier, as if expecting him to stand up at any moment.
A few moments passed.
Longer than they should.
Nothing happened.
He lowered his gaze slightly to his hand—to that mark that pulsed with faint energy, but now… it was weaker than before.
He clenched his fingers, then whispered in a low, tired voice:
"Hide my trace… and blend me with the shadow."
No flash appeared. The world did not visibly change, but the light near him began to break. Its edges were no longer stable, as if his body was slowly dissolving into the shadow. He did not disappear completely, but became like a faint specter moving within darkness.
His body trembled.
He raised his head slowly, then moved toward the gate—one calculated step, then another more cautious one. He crossed the threshold without making a sound, staying close to the stone wall, not going deep inside, but stopping first… watching.
The village was still.
Doors closed.
Lights dim.
Silence stretched through the alleys, as if life itself had temporarily withdrawn.
It did not reassure him.
He moved again, very slowly, avoiding the light, clinging to the shadows, stopping at every corner before crossing it, as if every step could be his last if miscalculated.
He passed by one house.
Then another.
Soft sounds slipped from some windows—human whispers, life continuing behind the walls—but he did not look toward them.
Until his steps slowed suddenly.
A different light.
An open window.
He stopped.
He did not approach immediately, but remained in the shadow, watching from a short distance, his eyes directed inside.
Inside—
Rhea was standing.
She was not wearing her armor, but her presence had not changed. She stood near the table, while her sister sat in front of her.
Her sister Zina said calmly:
"It was a long day."
Rhea replied:
"The celebration took longer than I expected."
Zina paused, then raised her gaze:
"And that sound?"
A brief silence.
Rhea said:
"It was distant… but not natural."
Kael stood still.
But his stillness was not calm—it was tense focus.
His eyes had not left the window since the moment he saw Rhea.
He was not looking only out of caution, but because of something else he did not fully understand—a mix of wariness and curiosity. As if he was trying to understand this place… this village he had entered while fleeing. It was different from everything he knew. Too calm. Too natural in a way that raised suspicion.
And her presence… Rhea herself… was not ordinary in his eyes.
He kept watching her.
Her voice. Her movement. The way she spoke to her sister.
All of it passed before him without him feeling that he should step away.
But he made a mistake.
In that moment—
The mark in his hand trembled.
Not a clear tremor, but a weak, uneven pulse, as if it was trying to respond and failing.
And with it—
The shadow shook.
Slightly.
Unstable.
As if the cover that was hiding him was beginning to fall apart.
The light around him shifted.
No longer steady.
The edges of his body were no longer blurred as before.
Part of his face appeared for a moment.
Then disappeared.
Then another part appeared.
As if his very existence had become unstable.
Kael clenched his hand immediately.
Looked at the mark.
The light within it was weak… flickering… fading.
"No…"
He whispered it without awareness.
He tried to steady himself, to merge deeper into the shadow, but the sensation was no longer under his control. His body was no longer responding as before, as if everything he depended on was collapsing at the same time.
Rhea stopped suddenly.
She did not finish her sentence.
Her gaze changed.
Something was not in its place.
She slowly raised her head toward the window.
She was not certain.
But she felt it.
Zina said:
"What is it?"
She did not answer immediately.
She kept looking.
Then said in a low voice:
"I don't know…"
Outside—
Kael's instability increased.
The mark in his hand began to flicker irregularly—short, broken flashes, as if it was going out and returning quickly. With every flicker, the shadow around him trembled more, losing its coherence. It could no longer hide him completely.
His breathing became heavier.
Uneven.
He raised his hand forcefully, as if trying to stop what was happening.
"Be still…"
But nothing stilled.
It only got worse.
A larger part of his features became visible now. He was no longer half-hidden as before. His existence wavered between appearing and disappearing—one moment hidden, the next visible enough to be noticed.
Rhea moved.
One step toward the door.
She said:
"Stay here."
She headed toward it.
Kael felt that time had run out.
He clenched his hand harder, looked at the mark, at the light that was fading more and more, then raised his head toward the door.
One thought crossed his mind—
Was I discovered this quickly?
He did not move.
He could not.
It was not hesitation… but inability.
His body no longer had enough strength.
The shadow no longer protected him fully.
And everything he relied on… was slowly disappearing.
Rhea reached the door.
Placed her hand on the handle.
At that moment—
The light in Kael's hand trembled one last time.
A weak flicker.
As if it were the last thing left.
The shadow faded slightly.
And he remained standing there—
Between shadow and light.
Visible enough…
And hidden not enough.
And slowly—
The door began to open.
— The End —