The group reached a town called Hallowrest—a place wrapped in silence. The houses were sturdy but worn, the people courteous but distant.
They were welcomed by a matron named Sela.
"We've heard of you," she said. "Some of us are... hopeful."
"But not all?" Eliah asked.
Sela hesitated. "There are wounds here. Deep ones."
—
That evening, a boy from Hallowrest went missing. Panic bloomed.
"He wandered near the forest," one woman cried. "The old trail—where the cult used to gather."
Thao stood quietly. His hands trembled.
"I know that path," he said.
Mariam looked up sharply. "Why?"
Thao hesitated, then said, "I used to walk it... with them. I was once part of the Fallen Wing."
The campfire stilled.
No one spoke.
Eliah's eyes didn't flinch.
"What made you leave?" he asked.
Thao's voice cracked. "I was asked to do something that felt holy—but it hurt people. I couldn't live with it. So I walked away."
Eron stood slowly. "You never said."
"I didn't think I deserved this fellowship," Thao whispered. "But I kept hoping someone might show me how to believe again."
—
The group was silent. Then Eliah turned to Mariam.
"What do you think?"
She stared at the flames. "I think the reason we walk this path is to make space for people like Thao."
—
They rose before dawn and followed Thao into the forest. He knew every bend, every thorn. They found the boy—frightened, unhurt—in an abandoned shrine.
Thao knelt beside him.
"I was once lost in this place too," he said. "But someone walked with me. Let's walk back together."
—
Back at Hallowrest, the villagers listened. Sela watched Eliah quietly.
"Do you trust him?" she asked.
"I trust what he's choosing," Eliah replied. "Redemption isn't a feeling. It's a direction."
—
That night, no one preached. But one family invited Thao to supper. And a child drew all of them—stick figures under a star—and wrote: Hope.
—
In darkness, not all shadows harm. Some simply need someone to light the way forward.