The hour of the boar crept in, wrapping the village in a hush too deliberate to be called rest. Oil lamps flickered along the main path, their flames swaying gently like weary sentries. The earth still carried the warmth of the day, but the breeze had turned colder—midnight was near.

Homes stood still, doors ajar as if expecting someone. The villagers hadn't returned yet from the shrine on the ridge. A few dogs padded down the cobbled street, ears twitching at every creak, every flutter of wind. Overhead, a layer of thin clouds slid across the full moon. The shadows deepened.

It was calm. But in that calm lingered something... waiting. As if the village itself was holding its breath.

Aaryan sat by the window, one hand resting near the sill, the other loosely curled around the dragon scale in his lap. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, but his thoughts were tangled—threads of power, of memory, of what the scale might unlock.

Then came the shift.

Distant voices broke the stillness. Laughter, footsteps, the faint clatter of sandals on stone. The villagers had begun to return. Their silhouettes passed along the road outside, lanterns bobbing in their hands, the tension of ritual behind them. Aaryan watched in silence, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. The festival would resume tomorrow.

Roughly half an hour later, the front door creaked open again. Binay stepped in, his shoulders relaxed, face carrying the tired contentment of a man who'd fulfilled his duty. He saw Aaryan by the window and smiled.

"You should come in," he said simply, then disappeared into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Aaryan followed. He gave a small nod toward Vedik, who remained curled on the cot, then stepped inside.

The food waited on the table—simple fare, but warm and grounding. Soft rice, spiced lentils, and flatbread fresh from the pan. They ate quietly, save for the faint clatter of utensils and the rhythmic hum of night insects outside. Chottu had already fallen asleep, tucked into his small bed with a slight smile still on his face.

After the meal, Aaryan leaned back slightly and looked across the table. "So. Pack up?"

Binay raised his eyebrows. "Tomorrow?"

"The shrine's closed. Nothing's holding you now."

Binay thought for a moment, then exhaled. "Fair. I'll pack in the morning—I'm too tired now."

Aaryan gave a faint smile and stood, pushing his chair back. "All right." Without another word, he walked to his room and lay down on the cot. The blanket felt cool against his skin.

Five minutes passed. Maybe ten.

Then a soft flutter of wings, barely audible, signalled Vedik's return. The little beast padded in, circled once, and curled near Aaryan's side. His scales shifted faintly with the light.

Aaryan closed his eyes, but sleep didn't come.

Not yet.

Outside, the night deepened. The laughter of villagers faded. Lamps dimmed. Doors latched. Voices dropped to murmurs—and then fell silent.

He waited.

Soon, they would all be asleep.

And when they were…

He would go.

To the shrine.

To the box.

And finally—he'd know.

🔱 — ✵ — 🔱

Past midnight, Aaryan slipped from Brackenhill village into the forest, barefoot and silent as a shadow, heading toward the hidden trail he'd uncovered days earlier. All around him, silence held, save for the rustle of leaves and the faint crunch beneath his feet.

He reached the narrow entrance tucked between the trees and slid through without hesitation. Having walked this path once already, he moved faster this time. Vedik, wrapped around his wrist, remained unusually obedient—clearly remembering Aaryan's last warning.

Not long after, they stood atop a ridge overlooking the shrine.

Earlier that evening, before dinner, Aaryan had given Vedik a silent command. While he ate, the little dragon had vanished, slipping into illusions to trail Binay. They needed the key to the box—and they couldn't leave it to chance. Vedik returned just as Aaryan expected, and not long after, when Binay finally fell all asleep, Vedik had retrieved it without alerting anyone.

Now, Aaryan had the key in his ring. All that remained was to do what he came for—open the box, take the item, return the key where it belonged, and leave. No one would ever know.

The guards at the shrine stood in the same positions as last time. Vedik darted ahead, invisible, and moments later the key floated toward Aaryan. Under cover of illusion, he slipped past the entrance and into the shrine.

It hadn't changed.

The box still sat on the pedestal. The crude drawings still covered the walls. He barely glanced at them—he'd studied every line before. Wasting no time, he moved to the box, slid the key into the slot, and turned it.

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A soft click followed.

The lock yielded.

But as he reached for the lid, something tugged at his mind. He paused, turned slightly. "Cover the shrine," he whispered.

Vedik didn't argue. The air wavered, like heat rising off stone, as the illusion wrapped the chamber. Now, whatever happened inside wouldn't be seen from the outside.

Aaryan took a breath and lifted the lid.

Inside sat a single orb—smooth, round, unremarkable at first glance. But then, a faint beam of moonlight slipped through the cracks in the ceiling, touching its surface.

At once, the orb responded.

Light spilled out—not in a burst, but in a slow ripple. A curtain of shifting colours unfurled from the orb, dancing softly in the still air. Pale green, deep violet, gold. It lit the shrine in a quiet, haunting glow.

Exactly as Somu had described.

Curtains of light, under a full moon.

Then another memory surfaced.

The bandit—the one Aaryan had finished off when first exploring the jungle for a path—had muttered something similar. That the item shines under the stars.

Maybe they meant the moon. Maybe they didn't know what they were chasing, only that it revealed itself at night.

But one thing was clear now.

Whatever those bandits were looking for…

It was this.

Right in front of him.

🔱 — ✵ — 🔱

Aaryan stared at the orb, its soft light still curling through the shrine like mist.

This meant trouble.

The realization had settled like a stone in his chest. The bandits—they were looking for this. And if they didn't find it anywhere else, they'd come here. Brackenhill wasn't just a stop anymore. It was a target.

He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking toward a familiar house in the village.

Thankfully, Binay and Chottu wouldn't be here long. By tomorrow, they'd be on the move with him. That thought helped—somewhat. He just needed this one night to pass quietly.

One night.

He knelt beside the pedestal again, weighing the orb in his hand. It wasn't heavy, its size comparable to Aaryan's fist. The box was. Taking both made no sense. He couldn't take the key—Binay would notice. Maybe not right away, but definitely before morning. That would ruin everything.

So—take the orb, leave the box, return the key. Simple.

Except the orb wouldn't stop glowing.

He'd tried everything—cloth, beast hide, even his spatial ring. He'd even left it inside the unlocked box, but the lid wouldn't stay shut. The glow dimmed but never vanished. It still shimmered in the void space like it didn't care. As if the rules didn't apply to it.

Aaryan frowned, turning the orb over again. The glow pulsed faintly, soft and constant. No hiding it like this. If anyone saw it—and someone would—he could forget about slipping away unnoticed.

He was running out of time.

Vedik, gliding around the chamber in his real form, watched with quiet amusement. His head tilted once. Then again. Then he let out a short, smug chirp.

Aaryan narrowed his eyes. "What are you grinning at, snake-sleeves?"

Vedik blinked and leapt down. Before Aaryan could stop him, the dragonling opened his mouth wide—and swallowed the orb whole.

Aaryan froze.

Then blinked.

Then said flatly, "No."

Vedik blinked again.

"You idiot! Spit it out!"

Vedik shook his head like a disappointed parent, his frills twitching with what Aaryan was convinced was smugness. Then, just as casually, he opened his jaws and dropped the orb back onto the floor with a soft thunk.

It still glowed.

Aaryan stared, then looked at Vedik.

"You're kidding."

Vedik raised his snout and tapped his chest twice, as if to say, See? Safe inside. No glow.

Aaryan picked up the orb again, turned it over, then nodded. "Huh."

He looked at Vedik—now absolutely insufferable.

"You clever, smug little lizard. All right, fine—do it again."

Vedik tilted his head.

"Come on," Aaryan said. "Don't play dumb now."

The dragonlingturned around and curled up on the floor.

"Oh, now you're offended?"

He didn't move.

"I panicked! Anyone would panic when their partner starts eating ancient things that fell from the sky!"

Still nothing.

Aaryan crouched. "Vedik. Be reasonable."

Silence.

"Swallow it again, or I swear I'll tie your tail to my leg like a bell."

Vedik opened one eye. Then—very slowly—rolled it.

But he got up, opened his mouth, and gulped the orb back down.

"Thank you," Aaryan muttered. "Drama queen."

The dragonling didn't respond. He slithered back up Aaryan's shoulder, his tail looping tightly around his wrist.

The glow was gone.

Aaryan stood, dusted his hands off, and placed the key back into its spot in the box. He closed the lid gently. No signs left behind. No trace of tampering. Just the same old box in the middle of a quiet, closed shrine.

With everything take care of, he allowed himself one breath—just one—before stepping into the night again.

🔱 — ✵ — 🔱

Trouble was already on its way.

Around fifty figures moved under the moonlight, their pace steady but quick. At first glance, they looked like a single force. But a closer look revealed the cracks—three distinct groups marching in loose formation.

The largest wore deep red robes, faces half-covered and weapons strapped openly. The other two flanked them—one clad in worn white garments with grey sashes, the other in dark purple robes that shimmered faintly when the wind caught them.

At the front, a blackwood cart rolled along the dirt path. Its golden joints gleamed under the stars, and beast-hide curtains swayed with every bump. Inside sat four figures, wine glasses in hand.

Opposite Drenval, Varen and Karek lounged side by side. Ghroan sat between them, his heavy gaze drifting toward the brothers.

It was Karek who spoke first. "According to what we heard, the missing unit passed through a village called Brackenhill. Not far from here. And then… nothing. Not a word since."

Drenval's voice was quiet but firm. "So you're saying they died there?"

"Maybe," Karek said, swirling the wine in his cup. "Maybe not. But they didn't reach Green Moss Village. So whatever happened must've happened between the two. We start from Brackenhill. Tell your men to get ready. If this is what we think it is…" He glanced at Varen. "We'll have a fight coming."

Ghroan grunted. "Brother Karek is right. We'll prepare."

Then he paused. His earlier cheer gone.

"But I hope we're not being used as fodder. Our men might be fewer than yours, but if we find out we were just sent ahead to die, it won't end well."

Varen scoffed. Karek smiled without warmth.

They said nothing.

Drenval said nothing either, but he shifted subtly toward Ghroan's side of the cart. The message was clear.

🔱 — ✵ — 🔱

Far ahead of them, unaware of the danger inching closer, Aaryan sprinted back toward the village. Vedik had slipped the shrine's key back into the guards' pouch without notice, and now they were both cutting through the trees like shadows.

Two hours till sunrise.

This peace had to last until then.

Brackenhill came into view. Lights were out, the village still and asleep. Aaryan didn't slow down. His bare feet touched down silently as he reached Binay's house. He grabbed the wooden doorframe, gave one cautious push.

The door creaked open. He stepped inside, closing it behind him without a sound.

Only then did he breathe out.

He turned—and stopped.

A ripple passed through his soul sense. Someone was already there.

A silhouette in the dark. Waiting.

Aaryan didn't move. His mind cursed every god, every star, every spirit that had heard him wish for one peaceful night.

Why?

Why couldn't things ever stay quiet?

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