Morning came with grey skies and frost.
Kian woke first. The air was cold, breath visible again, and the blanket he and Ellie shared was thin. He sat up slowly, the wooden crate beneath him creaking. The faint echo of distant voices reached him — low murmurs, too quiet to make out.
Ellie stirred beside him.
"Already?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.
"Something's wrong," Kian said.
She sat up quickly, instinct kicking in.
Then they heard it — the crunch of boots. Not one or two, but dozens. The barn groaned under the shifting weight of people outside. The creak of rope. The low murmur of metal unsheathed.
They both froze.
Then came a "BANG" — a firm knock against the wooden door.
Ellie moved first, standing and reaching for the small hunting knife under her satchel. Kian was at her side in an instant. They didn't speak. They didn't need to.
Another knock.
Louder. Slower.
More deliberate.
Then silence.
Ellie opened the latch — not wide, just enough to see.
And what she saw made her blood run cold.
Dozens of villagers stood outside.
Old men with shovels and rusted blades. Young adults gripping spears. Women holding kitchen knives. Children hiding behind legs. The same eyes from yesterday — but now no longer cautious.
They were angry.
Wary. Fearful.
Ready.
Ready to kill.
---
"Out," said the man in front. The same one who had let them in the day before. "Come out slowly."
Kian and Ellie stepped out into the cold morning air. Boots crunching in the frost. The crowd parted slightly to give them space, but not much. Not safety.
The air was electric — thick with suspicion and dread. The kind that came before storms.
"What is this?" Ellie asked, her voice steady.
"You didn't tell us," another woman said. "Who you really were."
"You're hiding something!" a young man shouted.
Kian stayed quiet.
"We let you in," the older man barked. "And the moment you sleep here, strange dreams return. Nightmares. One of our children screamed all night about shadows crawling in their skin. Wraith whispers."
"Coincidence," Ellie said coldly.
"You think we can afford to believe in *coincidence* anymore?" he snapped. "Not after the Shatterings. Not after what the Wraiths did to us."
A few villagers stepped closer.
Knuckles tightened around weapons.
One girl was already sobbing, her voice shaking as she clutched a charm against her chest. "They brought it with them. I saw it. Black smoke in my dreams. I saw the flame. The same as *before*."
Kian didn't know what to say.
Ellie took a breath, as if ready to speak—
But then, the crowd suddenly hushed.
A figure stepped through them.
Old, but not fragile. Dressed in long grey cloth and a heavy coat patched with years of weather. His beard was silver, reaching to his chest, and his right eye was milky-white, blind. But the other — sharp and knowing — settled calmly on Kian and Ellie.
The village chief.
Even the wind stilled as he approached.
He stopped only a few paces away from them.
The air trembled, as if the whole world paused for his words.
Then — unexpectedly — he reached into his coat.
Slowly. Without fear.
And pulled out a small loaf of bread, wrapped in cloth.
He extended it toward Ellie.
A simple gesture.
But powerful.
And chilling.
"Eat before you leave," he said, voice low but clear. "The road ahead is colder than this place."
The villagers looked at each other, confused. Stunned. The same man who had once led them through the Shattering… was showing kindness to strangers?
Ellie didn't move. Neither did Kian.
The chief turned his eye toward them again.
"You're not welcome here," he continued. "But you're not the ones we should fear either. At least… not yet."
He stepped closer to Kian now, so near their boots almost touched.
"There's something following you," he whispered. "And something waiting. I've seen it before… in the eyes of the dying. In the silence before screams."
Then he turned.
Without another word, he walked back through the crowd.
No one stopped him.
No one questioned him.
The villagers slowly began to disperse — some reluctantly, some still glaring, but the tension broke just enough for air to return to their lungs.
Kian and Ellie stood in the cold, holding their breath.
Ellie took the bread.
Kian watched the path ahead.
They wouldn't stay another second longer than they had to.