Inside the carriage, a tense silence lingered. Lunara had withdrawn into a corner, arms crossed, shooting Zaphara wary glances from time to time. Aaron sat beside Seraphion, drumming his fingers restlessly against his knee while staring out the window. No one spoke of what had transpired that morning—no one except Zaphara, who seemed utterly unaffected. She had seated herself beside Ivory, engaged in an endless stream of conversation.
"Your skin is truly flawless, Ivory. I wonder how you manage to look so radiant despite all these exhausting travels."
Ivory chuckled lightly, waving off the compliment. "Oh, you're exaggerating. I just make sure to get enough rest."
"I doubt that. The grace you exude is innate. There are people who spend their entire lives trying to master such elegance, and yet you possess it effortlessly."
Lunara rolled her eyes and deliberately turned away. Aaron let out a loud sigh and muttered, "If this keeps up much longer, I’d rather throw myself out of the moving carriage."
Seraphion placed a hand on his shoulder. "Patience, Aaron. Three days is a long time, but let’s not make it harder on ourselves."
The journey itself was uneventful, yet draining for those forced to endure Zaphara’s performative charm. As the day wore on, the sun began its slow descent behind distant hills. The road to Elysia, the capital of the Kingdom of Valoria, was long, stretching across well-traveled trade routes that connected the realm’s major cities. From Kean, the carriage ride would take three full days—a tiring but unavoidable journey.
However, they had planned a stop along the way.
Roughly halfway between Kean and Elysia lay Fremos, a small, unassuming village inhabited mainly by farmers, craftsmen, and a handful of traders. It was little more than a forgettable dot on the map, yet for travelers, it served as a much-needed resting place. Positioned along the trade route, it offered simple lodging, a modest smithy, and a few humble taverns. The group intended to spend the night there before setting out on the final stretch of their journey the following morning.
At least, that was the plan.
Suddenly, a loud crunch shook the carriage. A violent jolt sent everyone stumbling forward, and with a dull thud, the vehicle came to an abrupt halt. A sharp crack of splintering wood echoed through the air, followed by a string of curses from Fionna outside.
“What the…?” Aaron rubbed his shoulder, which had slammed against the interior wall. “What was that?”
Talon leapt from the driver’s bench, dropping to one knee beside the carriage. Fionna was already inspecting the damage as the others climbed out.
“The right rear wheel is completely broken,” Fionna stated calmly. “The axle looks damaged as well. We can’t move forward like this.”
Seraphion examined the breakage, his brow furrowed. “How did this happen? Everything seemed stable.”
Fionna ran her fingers over the splintered wood. “The wheel must have rolled over a hidden stone or an uneven patch in the road we didn’t notice. The material was probably already weakened, and with the weight of the carriage, it just gave out.”
Talon straightened, exhaling. “Then we’ll have to make camp here. I’ll help you with the repairs, Fionna.”
She gave a grateful nod. “It’ll take until morning. I can’t fix it in the dark.”
Aaron sat on a fallen log, letting his gaze sweep across the vast, open fields surrounding them. The land stretched wide, bordered by distant trees, yet not a single house or village was in sight. The nearest settlement was undoubtedly Fremos—still a long way off.
He let out a deep sigh before turning to Ivory, who stood with her hands folded, surveying their surroundings. “Tell me, Ivory… we need three full days to reach the capital. But Silen wanted to do it in one. How was he planning on making the trip so fast?”
A sudden gust of wind stirred dry leaves into the air, rustling the grass and sweeping dust across the road. It was as if the earth itself was trying to erase Aaron’s question. Then came Ivory’s soft but resolute reply—words that hung in the air like an undeniable truth.
“I have never heard that name before.”
Aaron frowned, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s impossible. Silen was your bodyguard. He was with you when you found us.”
Lunara, who had remained silent until now, straightened. “Exactly! He was standing right next to you the whole time! Tall, dark hair, battle armor—not the chatty type, but he was definitely there.”
Ivory’s expression remained composed, but a flicker of confusion crossed her eyes.
“Lunara, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was alone when I found you.”
Aaron clenched his fists. “That’s impossible! We all spoke to him! He traveled with us to Kean!”
“I…” Ivory took a step back, as if the conversation was making her uneasy.
Suddenly, Fionna’s voice cut through the tension from the edge of the camp. Without turning around, she commanded, “Enough! You’re scaring her.”
Her voice was firm, unwavering. She was still working on the carriage, her back turned to them, but her posture made it clear—she had been listening the entire time.
“What does that even mean?” Seraphion murmured, his gaze flickering toward Ivory’s bewildered expression.
Fionna straightened and finally turned to face them. “There was never anyone named Silen.”
The words hit like a hammer blow.
Each of them had been so sure—too sure—that Silen had existed. They remembered his face, his stoic demeanor, the sound of his voice. And yet, with Ivory’s blank confusion and Fionna’s unwavering certainty, an invisible doubt began creeping into their minds.
Had they been mistaken? Was this some side effect of the sudden teleportation that had brought them to this land? A shared hallucination?
Lunara’s ears twitched as she shook her head slightly. “No…” she murmured. She wanted to object, to reject this absurd narrative outright. But the longer the silence stretched, the more surreal the situation became. It was five against two—each of them against Ivory and Fionna.
After a brief moment of thought, Lunara took a slow breath, pressing her lips together. Confronting Ivory further wouldn’t help.
So instead, she forced a smile. “Maybe… we just made a mistake. It’s been a long day, and we’re all tired.”
Ivory looked at her for a moment before relaxing slightly. “That’s possible…” she admitted, though a faint trace of uncertainty still lingered in her voice.
Lunara nodded apologetically. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to unsettle you.”
Aaron pressed his lips into a tight line, but when Lunara gave his hand a small, discreet tap, he took it as a sign to let the matter rest—for now.
Zaphara, who had been silently observing up until now, suddenly stepped beside Ivory and offered a gentle smile—a reassuring gesture, though undeniably calculated. “How about you help me set up camp, Ivory?”
Ivory blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Yes… that’s probably for the best.”
Now, three groups had formed.
- Talon and Fionna – remained by the carriage to continue the repairs. Talon assisted Fionna in adjusting the wheel and reinforcing the broken axle.
- Zaphara and Ivory – began setting up camp. They pitched the tents, found a spot sheltered from the wind, and prepared a small fire pit.
- Lunara, Seraphion, and Aaron – set out to gather firewood.
But before they left, Ivory called out to them once more.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“Don’t go into the forest,” she warned, pointing toward the vast, shadowy woodland stretching along the edge of the fields. The trees stood densely packed, their canopies weaving an impenetrable lattice of darkness across the ground. “Search the fields for deadwood and dry bushes instead. That forest is… treacherous. Those who get lost inside rarely find their way back.”
A cold gust of wind whispered through the grass.
Lunara and the others exchanged a glance before nodding in agreement. Without further questions, they set off. Yet, as they moved away, Ivory’s warning lingered in their minds, an echo refusing to fade.
The sky slowly melted into hues of soft orange as the sun dipped lower, stretching long shadows across the vast field. A gentle breeze rustled through the tall grass, its whispers filling the quiet space between them as Lunara, Aaron, and Seraphion wandered in search of dry wood.
“Why are we even looking for firewood when we’ve got an angel with us?” Aaron scoffed, twirling a brittle twig between his fingers. “Seems like a waste of time.”
“For one,” Seraphion replied calmly, “I can summon fire, yes, but without dry wood, it won’t last long. And two…” He shot Aaron a pointed look. “Do you really want to risk sleeping in the cold?”
Aaron shrugged. “As long as I’m not the only one freezing, I can live with it.”
Lunara remained quiet as she drifted slightly ahead of them, her gaze scanning the open fields. Normally, she would have relished the freedom of wandering through nature, far from the clamor of the city. But something inside her felt… off.
She kept to herself, absently gathering sticks, her fingers moving on instinct. It was as if she weren’t truly there.
Everything feels wrong.
From the moment she had woken up in that clearing, nothing had felt real. Every moment, every encounter, every single conversation seemed to waver around her like a thick mist—distant, intangible, slipping through her grasp.
They had been thrown into this place. Without warning. Without explanation.
Then that shadowed man…Then the sudden gathering of strangers, people she barely knew.Then Zaphara. Her cruel, icy demeanor that morning. The way she had shoved her into the dirt without hesitation.And now, Silen was suddenly gone.
Not dead. Not missing. Simply vanished—as if he had never existed at all.
Lunara gripped a twig so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
Was any of this real? Or had they already died? Were they trapped in some kind of limbo?
Her breath came faster.
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
I can’t breathe.
Her steps faltered as her legs suddenly felt heavy. Her chest tightened, as if an invisible hand had wrapped around her heart, squeezing mercilessly.
Her vision blurred.
She saw Aaron and Seraphion still talking, but their voices were distant, muffled, as if she were submerged underwater.
Why does my body feel so foreign?
A sudden flicker behind her eyelids.
Then, darkness.
Lunara collapsed forward, her knees slamming into the grass, a strangled gasp escaping her throat. Her hands flew to her neck, nails digging into her skin as if she could claw the air back into her lungs. But it was useless—something invisible, something suffocating, had taken hold of her.
Aaron chuckled. “What, did you see something? A rabbit or—”
“Aaron.”
Seraphion’s voice cut through, sharp as a blade.
Aaron frowned. “What?”
Then he saw her.
She was curled up on the ground, gasping frantically for air, her eyes flickering wildly. Her pupils were blown wide, her lips trembling, her entire body wracked with violent shudders. Her fingers clawed at her throat, at her chest, as if trying to tear herself open just to breathe.
“Shit!” Aaron lunged forward, all traces of humor vanishing in an instant, panic shooting through his veins. “What’s happening to her?!”
Seraphion stepped in quickly, though he kept a careful distance, wary of startling her further. “Lunara, can you hear me?” His voice was steady, gentle.
Lunara choked, her breath catching in broken gasps. Her eyes rolled back slightly as her body fought against the suffocating sensation gripping her.
Aaron watched helplessly as she completely lost control. “What do we do?! Tell me what to do!”
Seraphion knelt in front of her, his hands open, non-threatening. “Lunara, listen to me. I know it feels like you’re suffocating, but you’re not. Your body is lying to you. You have to focus on me, okay?”
She barely seemed to register his words, her gaze unfocused and distant.
But Seraphion remained patient. He inhaled deeply, making the motion slow and exaggerated. “Breathe in through your nose. Hold it. Then exhale—slowly.”
Aaron crouched beside them, tense and uncertain. He tried to follow along, but his own breathing was erratic and uneven.
Lunara couldn’t keep up at first. Her fingers dug into the earth, her chest still rising and falling too quickly. But gradually, after several attempts, she started mimicking Seraphion’s rhythm.
In. Hold. Out.In. Hold. Out.Again. And again.
Bit by bit, her body began to calm. Her pulse slowed, the trembling subsided, and finally, her vision cleared.
Aaron collapsed onto his backside and let out a heavy breath. “Holy shit…”
Lunara slumped forward, still breathing hard, her body utterly drained.
I'm sorry…" Her voice was hoarse.
Seraphion placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s over now."
Aaron still looked completely out of his depth, but his voice was more serious than usual. "Just… let us know if you start feeling like that again, yeah? I’m shit at this kind of thing, but we’re not gonna let you deal with it alone."
Lunara managed a weak smile. "Thank you…"
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Meanwhile, on the other side of camp, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Zaphara was busy securing the last tent while Ivory spread out the sleeping bags. Once she finished, Ivory flopped onto one of them with a satisfied sigh, stretching out as the cool evening air settled in.
Above them, the sky darkened, and the first stars had already begun to shimmer.
"Zaphara," Ivory said softly, "what do you think about the stars?"
Zaphara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What a pointless question.
But she knew herself too well to say that aloud. Instead, she sank onto the ground beside Ivory, gazing upward with a quiet sigh. "I find them admirable. So distant, yet they shine brighter than anything else."
Ivory turned onto her side, watching Zaphara with a gentle smile. "My mother used to tell me the story of the Aurora Star. Do you know it?"
Zaphara pretended to think it over, though she knew the tale all too well. "Yes. It’s one of the oldest legends, isn’t it?"
Ivory’s eyes lit up with excitement. "Tell it to me."
Zaphara inhaled deeply before beginning:
"998 years ago, Aurora descended from the heavens—an Astral Elf whose magic granted humans the ability to wield sorcery for the first time. She brought hope, knowledge, and a new era. But one day, she vanished without a trace."
Ivory’s gaze shimmered in the starlight, absorbing every word.
"And on the night she disappeared, the Aurora Star appeared—the brightest star in the sky. A final gift, meant to remind the world of her kindness and generosity. Since then, people have said that it stands for the brightest age of humankind."
As Zaphara finished and glanced at her, a quiet stillness settled between them.
Ivory's face was flushed a deep shade of red. Her eyes remained fixed on Zaphara, almost dreamily, as if she had lost herself in the story. Her heart pounded faster and faster, and as soon as she realized how she must look, she hastily blinked and sprang to her feet.
"Uh! W-we should set up the campfire before the others get back!"
Zaphara blinked in surprise—then let out a quiet chuckle.
"Of course."
Ivory turned away, her hands fumbling hurriedly with one of the sleeping bags, but the redness on her cheeks refused to fade.
Zaphara watched her with amusement.
Sometimes, it was just too easy.
The last light of day slowly faded beyond the distant hills, and darkness spread across the vast field. In the distance, the thick, almost unnaturally dark trees of the forbidden forest lined the horizon, while the carriage stood beside the makeshift camp—its broken axle resting on improvised supports of stone and wood.
Talon and Fionna finally emerged from the darkness, shaking dust from their hands. Talon brushed his hair from his face and sighed.
"We'll get the wheel back on by morning, but it took some work to set everything up. At least the carriage is stable for the night."
Fionna nodded. "Yes. It should take no more than an hour to repair in the morning. Then we can leave without further delay."
Not long after, Aaron, Lunara, and Seraphion appeared from the darkness, their arms full of gathered firewood. Aaron groaned as he dropped a heavy bundle onto the ground and rolled his shoulder with a wince.
"By all the gods, this is enough to keep an entire village warm."
"Better too much than too little," Seraphion replied calmly before glancing around. His blue eyes settled on Lunara, who lingered a few steps behind them. Her shoulders sagged with exhaustion, and her face bore a weariness that ran deeper than mere physical fatigue.
Without a word, Lunara collapsed onto one of the sleeping bags, turned onto her side, and pulled the blanket over her head. She just wanted to sleep—away from the thoughts, the questions, the uncertainty.
Ivory stepped beside her, concern flickering in her expression.
"Lunara, are you okay?"
"Mhm…" was all she mumbled before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.
Seraphion glanced at Ivory and gave a small shake of his head.
"Let her be. She just needs rest."
As Zaphara stepped closer to the fire, its warmth pushed back the night’s creeping chill. Seraphion had ignited it with a single practiced motion of his hand, and now the flames flickered and danced, casting long shadows over the field and reflecting in the eyes of those gathered around.
“I’ll take the first watch,” Zaphara announced, her gaze sweeping over the group. “In case anything happens.”
Fionna glanced at her briefly before offering a small, knowing smile. “Then I’ll keep watch with you. Two is better than one, isn’t it?”
Her voice was calm, almost pleasant, but as Zaphara met her sapphire-blue eyes, she recognized the gleam within them immediately.
It was the same mask she wore herself—a polite smile, an empty warmth, a carefully crafted lie.
Zaphara held her gaze for a moment before giving a small shrug. “Suit yourself.”
One by one, the group retreated to their tents. Aaron grumbled something about how he’d much rather be sleeping in a warm bed before rolling himself up in his blanket. Seraphion checked the firewood one last time, while Ivory curled up beside Lunara, gently running a hand over her arm in silent comfort.
It didn’t take long before the steady rhythm of breathing filled the night.
The fire burned low, its embers glowing softly as flames licked lazily at the remaining logs. Zaphara sat with her arms crossed, chin resting on her knees, watching the sparks rise and vanish into the darkness. The warmth of the fire wrapped around her like a gentle cloak, a sharp contrast to the cool night air.
The wind was light but cold. It rustled through the grass, carrying the distant howl of a wolf, the rhythmic chirping of crickets, and the occasional creak of the carriage shifting in the breeze.
Then she heard footsteps.
Fionna emerged from the shadows, her pale hair catching the fire’s glow, turning it to liquid silver. Her sharp, steady eyes locked onto Zaphara as she lowered herself onto the ground beside her.
For a while, she said nothing.
Then, in a voice as cold as the night wind, she finally spoke:
“I know exactly what you’re doing.”