We locked eyes for a long moment. Then, just like that, the sound disappeared.
He removed his hand from my mouth—slowly, deliberately.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
Then, in a steady, controlled voice, he said,
"Where do you live? I'll walk you. It's not safe here."
"I'll go on my own," I replied. "Don't bother."
His gaze lingered on me—sharp, unreadable.
"You're either brave… or unaware of what just passed through this place."
Without waiting for my answer, he stepped forward and walked beside me.
The darkness made it difficult to see, and my steps faltered more than once. I thought of taking out my phone—but stopped. I had to keep everything hidden… even though I knew I would probably never see him again.
We walked in silence for a while. Then, as we turned left, he spoke.
"Your name."
"Sky Frost."
A brief pause.
"Frost," he repeated, as if weighing the name. "Unfamiliar… I've never heard that surname."
I glanced at him quickly, just enough to redirect the moment before he could question further.
"Yours?"
"Isra."
There was something in the way he said it—firm, grounded… like a name forged through battles.
I hesitated, then asked, "Why are they chasing you?"
"Some questions," he replied, calm but edged with authority, "are safer left unanswered."
I held his gaze and didn't speak anything .
Then we heard it—
The distant, rhythmic thunder of horses, slicing through the stillness of the night.
Isra stilled.
In an instant, the calm in him vanished—replaced by something sharper, lethal, controlled. His gaze snapped toward the sound, calculating distance, numbers… intent. He tightened his grip on his sword, settling into a precise fighting stance.
"Stay here," he said, low and commanding. "I'll return."
He had already begun to move.
"No. Go—protect yourself. I can manage on my own."
He started to speak, but—
A faint radiance stirred from the necklace, spilling softly into the darkness around us, growing stronger with each passing second.
Isra noticed. His gaze dropped to it, then returned to my face—sharper now, more intent.
"What are you?" he asked quietly. "What's happening to you?"
I held his gaze, composed despite the rising glow, and took a small step closer.
"Some questions," I said softly, "are better left unanswered."
"I hope you understand."
The thunder of hooves drew nearer. Time was slipping.
I placed my hand against his shoulder, steady.
"I have to go," I said softly. "It's time."
He didn't respond. His eyes searched mine—intense, controlled—as if he understood everything without needing to ask.
I gave a slight shake of my head.
"Take care of yourself," I said quietly. "And don't die."
Something shifted in his expression—subtle, but real.
"You too," he said at last, low and brief.
Then he turned, moving toward the approaching riders, sword already in hand.
No more words were needed.
He understood.
I turned and ran.
Then the glow of the necklace intensified, spreading around me like a quiet force.
The world around me began to blur—the night fading, the sounds dissolving into silence.
In an instant, everything slipped away.
And I was back.
Back in my world… as if I had stepped out of a novel.
I stumbled into my room and stopped.
For a moment, I just stood there—trying to breathe, trying to understand.
Then I sat down slowly, my thoughts still caught somewhere between worlds.
What… just happened?
The silence of the room felt strange after everything—the noise, the danger… him.
I held the necklace for a moment, its warmth slowly fading in my hand, then placed it gently on the desk.
Everything around me was normal again.
Too normal.
The words felt simple—but they stayed.
Fragments replayed in my mind… the sound of horses, the glow of the necklace, Isra—the mysterious man whose face I never saw, yet somehow understood.
"I hope he'll be fine," I whispered.
A small pause.
"I don't think I'll ever meet him again."
Still…
When the necklace began to glow, he didn't question it.
He didn't panic.
It was strange.
For someone I had just met… it felt like he understood.
Slowly, I closed my eyes and drifted into sleep.
…
Morning came.
Soft light slipped into the room—quiet, ordinary… as if nothing had happened at all.