The survivors climbed the jagged canyon, sweat and dust coating every inch of them. The sun rose harshly, burning their backs.
Laura stumbled. Faint ripples of time shimmered around her.
Nysera caught her arm, growling softly.
"Stay on your feet. Don't fade now."
I scanned the cliffs above. Scarf flickering, echoes restless. We can't keep running forever, I thought.
A boy appeared on a ledge, gaunt, ash-streaked, holding a shard-staff carved from bone. Shadows clung to his frame.
Survivors gasped.
"Another cursed one…" a villager whispered.
The boy raised a calm hand. Expression unreadable. Too still for someone so young.
"If you keep moving, the Hunters will corner you. Follow me."
Zero stepped forward, blades half-drawn.
"…And if it's a trap?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he led us into a hidden cavern beneath the canyon wall. Shard-crystals embedded in the rock cast fractured light, soft and unsettling. Survivors slumped against the walls, relief and tension mingling in their eyes.
The glow of the crystals painted the boy in a halo of faint light.
We thought we'd found a grave. Instead… it was the first place that felt like hope, I remembered later.
The boy knelt by a crystal, its faint glow easing a survivor's wounds.
Liora leaned closer, eyes narrowed.
"Healing shards?"
He shook his head, eyes shadowed.
"Not healing. Anchoring. Keeps the Whispers away… for a while."
Laura's eyes widened, fear threading through awe.
Tension spread among the survivors.
"Another cursed child… like them," a villager whispered.
Nysera bristled, stepping in front of him, wolf-aura flickering faintly.
"He saved you. Bite your tongue."
I noticed his scarred wrists—shackles long removed.
The quiet weight in his gaze spoke of battles unseen, years of hiding far beyond his age.
He didn't look up as I approached.
"…They call me Livio," he said quietly.
"The Hunters marked me years ago. I've been hiding since. They won't stop. Not until every Shardbearer is broken… or bound."
Night fell. Survivors huddled together. Sleep was fragile, trembling in patches.
Laura traced faint ripples over her pendant. Time responded subtly, sand and dust suspending in micro-pauses.
Zero sharpened his knives silently. Shadows stretched across the walls, long and tense.
Liora leaned close, voice a whisper meant only for me.
"He's like us. But… can we trust him?"
I studied Livio, alert and silent near the cavern entrance. Scarf tugging at my chest, echoes flickering with caution.
"…We don't have a choice," I said quietly.
Outside, the canyon ridges shimmered in moonlight. Hunters' silhouettes lingered, masks catching faint light.
The faint pulse of Livio's crystals flickered like a heartbeat in the dark—drawing eyes without intending to.
Older Law remembers:
We believed the cave would hold. But the Hunt never sleeps. And already… their shadows pressed against the door.
Every whisper of sand sounded like a threat. Every flicker of the crystals, a warning.
Nysera prowled at the cavern mouth, teeth bared, ears twitching. She moved like a sentinel, wolf-aura pulsing faintly in rhythm with the light of the crystals.
I caught Laura's gaze. Eyes wide, trembling, yet determined. She clutched her pendant, the faint gold of her light brushing the darkness.
Zero stood behind the group, knives gleaming, shadows flowing around him like smoke. Silent, precise, ready for a single move.
Liora knelt near the children, shield raised, threads of light coiling across the cavern floor. She whispered reassurances to them, hands glowing faintly, but her eyes never strayed from the flickering shadows outside.
The wind shifted. Sand hissed against stone. The faintest crack of movement echoed in the canyon.
Livio rose from the crystal. Staff in hand, body taut, silent power radiating outward. His presence grounded the cavern, pushing the Whispers back, holding the hunters' attention at bay—at least for now.
"I can hold them," he said softly. "But only for a little while. You must decide your next move… quickly."
Older Law remembers:
In that moment, I understood what the Path demanded. Not courage. Not strength alone. Coordination, trust, timing. One misstep, and every life in that cavern would be forfeit.
We moved closer to Livio. He didn't speak further, only gestured toward the shadows outside. The Hunters were waiting, patient, calculating.
Nysera growled, low and steady.
"We fight if they come. But only if necessary. Protect the survivors. That's priority."
Laura's hands glimmered faintly, ripples slowing dust in the cavern, keeping the children steady.
"I saw… pieces of what could happen," she whispered. "If we misstep."
Zero's knives gleamed, void-thread pulsing faintly along his arms. His eyes, pale silver, scanned the canyon silently. Not a word. Not a movement wasted.
I tightened my scarf. Echoes flickered in response, restless, ready.
Older Law remembers:
That night, I realized the cave was not sanctuary. It was a pause. A waiting space. A chance to breathe before the storm broke again.
Outside, the Hunters shifted. Silhouettes danced between ridges. Their masks glinted in faint moonlight. They moved like shadows, calculating, silent.
The faint heartbeat of Livio's crystals pulsed against the dark. A warning. A promise.
And as the survivors slept, we knew: the Hunt never rested.
Every shadow. Every whisper. Every step. They would come.
And we would be ready.