The night passed without interruption.
At some point during the patrol, fatigue settled into his limbs—not sudden, but cumulative. By the time he returned home, the steps between the door and the sofa blurred into routine.
He didn't remember lying down.
He woke early.
His body still carried the weight of the past days.
What pulled him up wasn't urgency.
It was the smell.
He stepped into the kitchen and reached for the food without thinking.
Janna tapped his hand away.
"Wait," she said, already turning to gather bowls. "You're eating outside today. With everyone. The other villages brought food."
Outside.
Unusual.
He paused, but before he could ask, she was already moving toward the door.
"Tonight is special," she added.
No explanation followed. Only movement.
He stepped aside and let her pass.
Ella was awake.
That was enough reason to leave.
She seemed more comfortable when he was not around.
She stood out more the longer he looked.
Small for her age, with bright red hair that fell in soft, uneven, and uncontained.
Her eyes were large and expressive, a deep amber-brown.
With a book held close to her chest, she looked like someone holding tightly to a dream much bigger than herself.
Outside, the village was already lively.
Movement filled the spaces between houses. People carried food, voices overlapping without structure yet never colliding. Children moved freely through open paths while adults spoke with an ease.
He watched.
Studying the way they interacted.
The way people spoke.
The way they smiled.
The ease with which they approached one another. It still felt foreign.
A little later, a few children approached carrying wooden swords.
They wanted to play.
He accepted.
They moved first, without coordination. Their footing uneven, grips unstable.
The outcome settled quickly.
One disarmed. Then another. The rest followed within seconds.
No one was hurt.
Still, they stared at him.
Not confused.
Offended.
He stepped away before it turned into something unnecessary.
The gathering for food had already formed.
Janna had not exaggerated. Each village brought variations of food he hadn't seen before.
He moved through it, testing, comparing.
One dish stood out, slightly burned bread covered in something darker. The label read jam.
He took a bite and paused.
The taste didn't match anything he knew.
New.
Sweet.
Around him, preparations continued beyond the meal.
The bear meat had already been set over a large outdoor fire. Several villagers were setting up what looked like a proper barbecue. Nearby, others were preparing sweets.
There was a big decorated cake that drew his attention.
He overheard the villagers preparing.
"It's for Ella's birthday."
He stopped.
The pieces aligned.
The gathering. The scale. The timing.
Not a celebration.
A precaution, in case she awakens on her 6th birthday.
He didn't understand how awakening worked. What triggered it. What followed after.
Too many unknowns.
He moved through the village until he found her.
She was sitting on the roof of one of the houses, a book open in her lap.
He climbed up and sat a short distance away.
For a moment, neither spoke.
"So… it's tonight."
"At midnight," she said immediately. "That's when my life gets decided."
Her voice stayed flat.
He let the words settle, watching her a moment longer before he added.
"Failure isn't an option."
This time she let out a breath.
"You really don't understand, do you?"
Her eyes stayed on the pages.
"If I don't awaken… that's it. Everything I wanted ends here. My big dream dies"
There it was. The thing behind her sharp eyes. Her goal. Her reason. Then her expression changed.
"And if I do awaken," she continued, looking away again, "that's dangerous too."
A pause.
Silence followed.
Her eyes shifted. Moisture gathered.
One night could decide everything.
That part made sense.
He stood.
"I'll leave you alone."
She gave a small nod.
He left her there, the book still open, the page unchanged for a while.
More guards had taken positions along the walls.
Hunters were moving supplies.
Weapons were being distributed.
A strategy meeting was already underway.
He stayed near the edge and listened.
The plan was simple. Concentrate force at the main gate. If something came, it would come from one direction.
Efficiency over coverage.
Then something else.
A ring.
An artifact designed to suppress magical output.
If she awakened, it had to be placed immediately. Reduce the magical aura. Reduce the signal.
Reduce attraction of any danger.
By the time preparations ended, nothing remained of the morning.
This wasn't a gathering anymore.
It was a defense.
Eleven.
No one slept.
Lanterns held the dark back.
Barely.
Midnight came.
Silence followed.
Ten seconds passed.
No one moved.
Then—it began.
Ella's body began to shake.
At first faint light coming from below her.
Then suddenly wild.
Flames of aura burst around her, rising fast enough that no one could touch her.
She screamed.
The sound tore through the entire village.
Janna rushed forward, trying to get the ring onto her hand, without success.
For nearly twenty seconds, the fire-like aura raged around her.
Then suddenly, she collapsed. Even unconscious, magic still pulsed around her.
Leaving a fire crest on her arm.
Janna finally managed to force the ring onto her finger.
A black stone set in its center immediately began suppressing the flames.
The Magic level weakened.
The village exhaled.
Too soon.
Because by then, it had already spread.
The call.
He remained still for a moment. Then moved with the others toward the wall.
In the distance—movement.
Not scattered.
Directed.
More than twenty beasts were charging toward the main gate.
Their forms were wrong—too dense, too heavy. Tusks curved like weapons, bodies built for impact.
Their eyes held no instinct.
Only drive.
Behind them, something bigger moved through the dark.
Unclear.
But enough to make the rest feel like the lesser threat.
Mika's posture shifted instantly.
"We're not prepared for that many."
Then he turned.
"Ere. Janna. Run."