Dusk didn't fall.
It was bled away.
The light didn't vanish at once — it weakened little by little, as if something consumed it before it could touch the ground.
The shadows stretched between the trees in an irregular way, distorted, advancing in directions that defied the sun's natural course.
The air changed with it.
Denser.
Heavier.
As if space itself resisted the coming of night.
The line before the walls still moved, but not with the same rhythm.
Steps had slowed, murmurs reduced to almost nothing.
No one there ignored the presence of the Church — not consciously.
But the body… understood.
Further back, far enough not to be absorbed by the flow, three figures remained still.
Telvaris stood upright, eyes fixed on the entrance like someone measuring not just distance… but outcome.
Kael was kneeling, fingers resting against the ground.
The vibrations rose, steady—steps, breathing, metal… and something deeper, compressed beneath all of it, like a structure that should not be there.
Éreon remained standing.
Still.
His gaze did not follow the line.
Nor the wall.
But something layered over both — as if he saw what had yet to fully reveal itself.
Then—
Footsteps approached.
Firm.
Controlled.
Brianna appeared first.
Her posture intact, her pace steady, without any visible sign of falter or hesitation. But there was an almost imperceptible adjustment in her breathing — not from fatigue.
It was calculation.
Karna came right behind.
And, unlike her, he didn't hide everything.
His jaw was tense, his gaze harder than usual.
His step, still controlled, carried a weight that did not come from the body.
They stopped before the three.
Silence settled for a moment.
Brianna spoke first.
"I found a way in."
Her voice was firm, steady, without any trace of relief.
It was a decision.
Nothing beyond that.
Karna let out a light breath through his nose, his gaze still caught on the line of the walls.
"…You did."
A short pause, almost imperceptible.
"Indeed, it's a… memorable approach."
The tone was light.
But there was nothing light about it.
Brianna turned her face toward him with measured calm.
"We'll talk about that later."
It wasn't confrontation.
It was postponement.
Karna tilted his head to the side, finally looking at her.
A half-smile appeared — brief, without warmth.
"I intend to."
The pause came loaded with intent.
"Especially… that very strategic approach to the knight."
The silence around them didn't break.
It deepened.
Brianna held his gaze for a second longer.
When she answered, there was no open irritation.
"I did what the situation required."
Simple.
Direct.
Without defense.
Karna let out a small laugh, low.
"Of course."
His hand passed over the back of his neck, pressing lightly before dropping to his side.
"Funny… how it always ends like this… with you."
Her gaze turned to the others.
"As I said… we have an entry."
The cadence returned to absolute control.
"But only after nightfall."
A brief pause, enough to fix the information.
"The count has been moving something into the county without the Church's knowledge."
Telvaris didn't react immediately.
His gaze passed over Karna.
Then returned to Brianna.
"And the price?"
Direct.
Without accusation.
But impossible to ignore.
Karna let out a light breath, almost a restrained laugh.
"Go on, Brianna."
He made a vague gesture with his hand.
"I think they deserve the full version."
The pause came precise.
"Tell them what you offered in return."
The air tightened.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Brianna slowly turned her face toward him.
This time, the control didn't disappear.
But it became more rigid.
"If you have a better alternative, I'm willing to hear it."
Her tone didn't rise.
But it hardened.
"Otherwise… I suggest you trust the result."
A subtle step forward.
Presence.
"Because that's what brought us closer to crossing those gates."
Her gaze didn't retreat.
Karna stared at her in silence.
The irritation was still there.
But now it shared space with something else.
He looked away first.
His hand returned to the back of his neck, briefer this time.
"…I'll go to the meeting point."
His voice came out lower.
Less cutting.
"The knight left instructions."
He didn't wait for a response.
He turned and walked off, his steps controlled — but still marked enough not to fully hide what he carried.
Silence returned.
Denser than before.
Telvaris remained still.
Kael didn't move, still connected to the ground, taking in what wasn't said.
Éreon watched.
As if every word, every choice… were just another piece fitting into something larger.
Silence remained.
Not empty.
But sustained.
The last light had already completely disappeared behind the walls, and what remained was not full darkness — only a threshold.
A breath between what could still be seen… and what would come to exist unnoticed.
The line moved on.
Slower now.
More contained.
Torches began to be lit along the entrance, one by one, casting unstable light over faces that avoided recognition.
The sound changed.
Fewer steps.
More waiting.
Brianna remained still for a few moments, eyes fixed ahead, following the flow, the timing… the small fractures.
Then she spoke:
"Karna still hasn't returned."
Her voice was low, without apparent concern. Even so, it wasn't carelessness.
It was calculation.
Telvaris didn't answer. He only shifted his gaze for a brief instant toward where he had gone, before returning to the wall.
Further back, Kael remained leaning against the trunk of a tree, his body relaxed, his breathing steady.
There was no visible tension — only presence. Even so, the environment did not go unnoticed by him. It never did.
Brianna inhaled more deeply.
And then her gaze moved.
It took a second longer than it should have.
Enough.
"…And Éreon?"
The question was low.
Controlled.
But not neutral.
Kael tilted his head slightly.
Not searching.
In recognition.
"He hasn't left."
The pause came brief.
"He just… shifted."
Brianna turned her face toward him.
Held his gaze for a moment.
Kael remained still.
Serene.
"He'll return."
The silence adjusted.
And then—
The forest opened into a small clearing.
Not enough to reveal the sky completely.
But enough.
The moon hovered above, pale, distant… observing more than illuminating.
Éreon stood at the center.
Still.
His gaze lifted, fixed on it.
There was no haste in his posture.
No hesitation.
Only presence.
The wind passed lightly through the trees, shifting the leaves around — but it did not touch him the same way. The fabric of his clothes barely reacted, as if the space around him obeyed a different logic.
Then, slowly, his gaze lowered.
From the moon…
To the darkness around.
The shadows in the clearing were not static.
They stretched more than they should.
Receding too late.
Advancing for no apparent reason.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then they answered.
At first, subtly.
A shift out of rhythm.
A contour that did not match the object that cast it.
Then—
They leaned.
As if they recognized something.
Éreon did not move.
But the attention changed.
Focused.
Directed.
The shadows began to gather.
Slow.
Sliding across the ground, tracing the roots, climbing nearby trunks… approaching him without ever touching him at first.
Space lost depth.
The clearing seemed smaller.
More closed.
Closer.
And then—
A laugh.
Low.
Drawn out.
Not coming from a specific point… but from all of them at once.
But close enough not to be ignored.
"…Have you already forgotten me?"
The voice slipped through the shadows.
Éreon kept his gaze fixed on the moon.
He did not answer.
The silence did not drive it away.
It only brought it closer.
"Not even a gesture of recognition?"
A brief pause.
"Curious… considering you're still breathing because of me."
Nothing.
No reaction.
No shift.
The shadows moved around him, closer now.
More interested.
The silence… sustained.
Then—
A muffled laugh echoed among the trees.
"Always so contained…"
The voice came without haste.
As if it had been there long before him.
"I admit… speaking with Gaia's whelp was more… interesting."
The shadows trembled lightly around.
Not from instability.
But recognition.
"But that's not why I came."
A short pause.
"You remember."
Not as a question.
As a statement.
The presence drew closer.
Not in space.
But in perception.
"Even so… I thought it prudent to warn you."
The air grew heavy.
"When you cross those walls… I will no longer be able to touch you."
A pause.
Longer.
"So don't make the mistake of believing you'll be free."
The shadows pulsed once.
"The world you insist on touching… takes its due."
Éreon remained still.
Expression unchanged.
And the silence… remained.
Then—
"Are you going to keep ignoring me?"
A trace of irony surfaced.
"So distant… and I'm here, trying to spare you."
Nothing.
No response.
The presence wavered for a moment.
Then it changed.
Deeper.
Older.
"Before I forget…"
"Be careful with Gaia's whelp."
A short pause.
"He still doesn't understand what he carries."
"But that doesn't make him any less dangerous."
Silence came first.
The presence… then vanished.
But the shadows did not.
They remained.
Closer.
Denser around Éreon.
As if they had been left there.
Watching.
He didn't move at once.
His breathing, slow.
Controlled.
His hands rose.
A minimal gesture.
Precise.
"Fly."
The shadows answered before the sound even faded.
They tore from the ground.
Tore free from the trees.
Rose.
And took shape.
Wings.
Dozens of them.
Crows.
Black enough to swallow the light itself.
They did not flap at once.
They hovered for a moment.
As if waiting for something beyond the command.
Then they broke.
The forest reacted first.
Branches trembled.
Leaves stirred late.
The shadows spread with them.
Fast.
Silent.
The sky above the treeline fractured in motion.
Outside the walls, some faces lifted.
Not from curiosity.
From instinct.
The murmurs came after.
Low.
Contained.
On the walls, spears adjusted.
Shields rose a degree.
The guards did not advance.
But they did not ignore it either.
The crows did not approach the walls.
They veered.
Circled.
Kept their distance.
As if recognizing something that should not be touched.
Their movement was not erratic.
Nor natural.
It was… coordinated.
Too consistent.
While for the others that was just a swarm—
For Éreon…
It was sight.
The forest opened before him in living fragments.
Shadows that revealed.
Movements that did not escape.
Nothing went unnoticed.
And then—
Something broke the pattern.
Among the trees.
A group.
Moving with too much care to be casual.
Advancing… but avoiding being seen.
Éreon did not move.
But the attention fixed.
The crows adjusted their pattern.
Tightening.
Observing.
The reading… concluded.
"Who are you?"
The voice did not come from the forest.
It came from above.
Heavy.
Imposing.
"You have the nerve to probe my territory?"
The air yielded.
Not visible.
But undeniable.
"Disappear."
The impact was not physical.
But it was absolute.
The crows unraveled.
They did not scatter.
Did not flee.
They were wiped out of existence.
The shadows recoiled as if burned by something that produced no light.
Silence returned.
Heavier than before.
Éreon remained still.
But the link was severed.
Clean.
Direct.
For a moment—
Nothing.
Then—
A smile emerged.
Slow.
Cold.
Dangerous.
The shadows around trembled.
Not from fear.
From recognition.
The moon reflected in his eyes.
And the glow answered.
"…So you decided to show yourself."
A short pause.
His gaze turned toward the walls.
"Count."
The silence did not come empty.
It came compressed.
The shadows around still pulsed with the residue of what had been undone.
For a moment, Éreon remained still.
Then he turned and moved through the trees, his steps low, unhurried.
The darkness swallowed him little by little — as if he had never been there at all.