68 Chapter 68
"Aruno, we need a new shelter," Void said, his voice threading through Aruno's mind, calm but insistent. "That shack is gone. We can't stay out here in the storm."
Aruno's gaze swept over the clearing, taking in the shredded mud, the splintered wood, the remnants of the roof. For a moment, he could almost see Void beside him faint, shadowy, like a reflection in the rain though he knew it wasn't real.
"Where," I muttered, voice low, "can we go?"
Void's tone was matter-of-fact, almost teasing. "Anywhere that isn't a pile of soggy wood waiting to collapse on us. Mountains, caves, abandoned structures pick one before the rain decides to turn us into mud puddles."
Aruno started forward, boots sinking slightly into the wet soil, each step deliberate. His hair clung to his face, water dripping from the tips of his cloak. The Ghost walked through the storm, senses alert to every subtle shift of wind and shadow.
"Stay sharp," Void said, his presence flickering at the edge of Aruno's vision, just faint enough to remind him he was there. "That figure… whoever he was… might still be watching. Or waiting. Or bored enough to come back and see if we've made a mess of the place."
Aruno allowed the faintest smirk to cross his lips. "Then let him watch. I'll be ready."
The trail led him downward, the rain softening but never stopping. The Ghost moved steadily, shadows stretched across the landscape, warped by the storm and the fading light.
Eventually, the trees thinned, revealing a small village tucked into the valley. Smoke curled from chimneys, warm and inviting against the violet-gray sky, but the moment the villagers caught sight of him, their movements froze.
"Woah! Who- what is that?" A young child murmured.
Aruno's presence radiated something sharp, dangerous, impossible to ignore. Children clutched their parents' hands. Merchants stepped back behind their stalls. Even in the rain, his aura cut through the air like a blade.
Void's voice whispered in his mind, faintly amused. "Well… congratulations, Ghost. You just made an entire village rethink their life choices."
Aruno ignored him, eyes scanning, moving closer with steady steps. Then a woman stepped forward, unflinching, her posture relaxed but alert. She had dark hair tied back in a ponytail, sharp blue eyes and calm, and a small basket in her hand.
"You look like you've walked through hell," she said, voice even, almost gentle. "Come join me insude. Eat something warm before you catch your death in the rain."
Aruno paused, taking her in. There was no fear in her gaze, only a measured understanding. She sensed the aura, knew it carried danger, but she didn't recoil. Instead, she offered help, quietly confident.
Void's voice broke the silence again, incredulous. "Who is this woman… is she insane?"
Aruno allowed a faint, almost imperceptible nod. "She's… different."
I followed her toward the small house at the edge of the village, the rain pattering steadily around them. The storm had not yet ended, but for the first time since the clash, there was a faint flicker of warmth in the air, a place to rest before the next move.
Inside the small house, the warmth hit Aruno like a slow wave, the smell of cooked food replacing the damp, iron-scented air outside. The woman moved with practiced ease, setting a simple wooden tray with steaming bowls of stew and bread on the table.
"Sit," she said, gesturing to a chair. "Eat while it's hot."
Aruno remained standing for a moment, studying her. There was no hesitation, no fear in her eyes—only quiet strength. Finally, he lowered himself onto the chair. With a subtle motion, Durandal vanished, folded into shadow and sealed away with his summoning magic. The blade was gone, leaving only the memory of its weight and presence.
"I'm Aruno," he said, voice low, measured. "And you are?"
"Liraya," she replied, pulling up a chair across from him. She offered a small smile, easy and calm. "I help out here, keep people fed and alive. And you… you're not from around here, are you?"
"No," he said simply, his tone curt but not rude. "Passing through."
Void's voice flickered faintly in his mind, amused as always. "Passing through… you've got a way of making that sound ominous."
Aruno ignored him. He picked up the bread, tearing it slowly, methodically. He didn't speak again for a moment, letting the quiet settle around them—the rain outside, the steam rising from the bowls, and the gentle crackle of the fire.
Liraya watched him, curious but not intrusive. "I can feel it," she said softly, "that… energy you carry. Dangerous. But controlled. You're not here to harm anyone."
Aruno's gaze met hers for the first time fully. He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her perception. "Correct."
Void's voice added, sardonic as ever. "She's brave. Or crazy. Could go either way."
Aruno didn't respond, focusing on the warmth of the food, letting it ground him for just a moment. Outside, the storm continued, but here, for the first time in hours, the Ghost allowed himself a fleeting pause.
Aruno tore another piece of bread, eyes still studying Liraya. "The merge… you felt it too, didn't you? How did it feel from your side?"
Her expression tightened slightly, thoughtful. "Yes, we all felt it. It wasn't like anything we've ever experienced. The forests, the mountains, even the air… everything shifted. Some of us panicked. Others tried to make sense of it. But no one has really adapted yet."
Aruno nodded slowly, processing.
Liraya shrugged lightly. "Everyone is still learning what this world even is."
Void's voice flickered in Aruno's mind, low and teasing. "Sounds like she's giving you a warning disguised as philosophy."
Aruno didn't reply. He lifted the bowl of stew, letting the warmth anchor him, if only for a moment. The storm raged outside, but inside, the silence between them was steady.
Aruno took a sip of the warm stew, then set the bowl down. "Your name… Liraya. Where does it come from?"
She smiled faintly, as if recalling something long held. "It comes from our language, the tongue of my people. Names carry meaning here. Liraya… it means 'light of the roots.' Names reflect what we value, who we are, or the hopes we carry. Our language itself is tied to the mountains and the rivers, every word shaped by the land we live in and the spirits we honor."
Aruno nodded, intrigued. "And your people… this village. Who are you? What is this place?"
Liraya gestured outside the window, where the storm still poured. "We are the Thal'karen. This village is one of the oldest that survived the merge—our ancestors settled here long before the changes. Our lives revolve around the mountains, the rivers, the spirits we call the Thariel. Every decision, every tradition, every story is tied to them. We live in balance with the land, and we respect the magic that flows through it—even now after the merge."
Aruno leaned back slightly, letting her words settle. "So your people have history, even if this new world is unfamiliar."
She nodded. "Yes. We are learning, just like everyone else. But the roots remain. That is what keeps us steady, even in chaos."
Void flickered faintly in Aruno's mind. "Sounds like someone just handed you a world-building lecture disguised as a meal."
Liraya paused, her eyes distant for a moment, then softly spoke in her language. "ᚹᛖᚱᚨ'ᛚᛁᚾ ᛋᛟᚺᛏᚨᚱ ᛗᛖᛚᛁᚢᚾ."
Aruno's brow furrowed, though he understood every word thanks to the Arcanum. "What does that mean?"
She smiled faintly, warmth breaking through her calm demeanor. "It means 'The stars guide our path.' It is a blessing we say to travelers, to strangers, and to those who walk uncertain roads. Even after the merge, it carries the same hope."
Aruno nodded, letting the words settle. "A blessing for survival… or guidance."
"Both," she replied. "For the path is always uncertain, but the stars… they remain."
Void's voice flickered in Aruno's mind, low and teasing. "Cryptic fortune cookie number four, just perfect."
Aruno ignored him, letting the weight of her words sink in. The storm outside continued, but inside, the small firelight and the aroma of the meal grounded them both in this moment of uneasy calm.