The rider was gone.
The dust on the village road had barely settled, but the silence he left behind felt heavier than his presence ever had.Ren stood there, staring at the contact stone at his feet.It glimmered faintly in the sun — innocent, simple, and impossibly dangerous.
Lyra nudged it with the tip of her boot.
"Don't touch it."
Ren let out a slow breath.
"I wasn't planning to."
Borin crossed his arms.
"That stone is trouble wrapped in politeness."
Draven, who was sitting cross-legged in the dirt, nodded vigorously.
"YES. Yes, yes, yes. Throw it into a river. Or a well. Or a volcano."
Lyra shot him a look.
"We don't have a volcano, Draven."
"Then we need to GET one!"
Ren barely heard them.
His gaze was fixed on the stone — as if it were breathing.
The echo inside him wasn't pushing or whispering, but it wasn't ignoring it either.It hummed in a low, contemplative way.
A warning.A curiosity.A possibility.
Lyra finally stepped in front of Ren, blocking the stone from his sight.
"Ren. Look at me."
He forced his eyes upward.
"Hey," she said gently."Breathe."
Ren did.
Slowly.
Deeply.
The echo softened.
Borin let out a sigh of relief.
"That's better. You were freezing up again."
Draven crawled behind Ren and clung to the back of his shirt like a frightened child.
"We should go home. Immediately. Before any more horse-people show up."
Lyra exhaled.
"He's right about going home, at least."
They walked together — Lyra at Ren's side, Borin behind like a shield, Draven hovering like a panicked sparrow.
But as they moved through the village, the atmosphere changed.
People whispered.
Not loudly.But enough.
"There he is…""That child… he really spoke to the forest?""I heard his chest glowed like lightning—""Do you think the sect will take him?""What if he brings danger here?""What if he is danger?"
Ren clenched his fists.
He didn't want to hear any of it.But every whisper cut a little deeper.
Lyra heard them too.
Her anger burned brighter than the morning sun.
She stopped suddenly, spun toward the closest group of whispering villagers, and snapped:
"Say it louder."
The group flinched.
"N-no, we weren't—"
"You were," she spat."He's saved your children from wolves, brought food home, fought off bandits, helped families rebuild roofs and fences — and this is how you speak about him?"
Ren touched her arm.
"Lyra… It's alright."
"It's NOT," she hissed.
He offered a small, tired smile.
"It's fear."
She clenched her jaw, still furious, but silent.
A child ran up to them then — a small girl with missing front teeth and leaves tangled in her hair.
"Ren!"
He blinked.
She tugged his sleeve.
"Wanna play?"
Ren paused.
The echo stirred — confused.
He knelt so he'd be eye-level with her.
"I… can't right now."
"Why?"
Ren hesitated.
Before he could answer, the girl stepped closer, lowered her voice, and whispered:
"My mommy says you're scary now."
Lyra inhaled sharply.
The girl continued:
"But you don't look scary.You look sad."
Ren froze.
The echo pulsed softly.
He smiled — truly smiled — and tapped her forehead gently.
"I'm not scary."
She grinned.
"I knew it!"
Then she ran off, chasing the other children.
Lyra's anger melted into something else — something softer, heavier.
She looked up at Ren.
"You're not scary," she whispered.
He didn't answer.
They kept walking.
When they finally reached the elder's house, the old woman was waiting at the door, arms crossed.
"You three look like you've walked through war."
"We did," Borin muttered.
The elder's eyes fell on Ren.
"You heard them."
Ren nodded.
She sighed.
"People fear what they don't understand. They always have."
"That doesn't excuse it," Lyra snapped.
"No," the elder said, "it doesn't."
Ren sat down on the steps outside the house.The sun was warm on his face, but he felt cold inside.
Lyra leaned against the railing beside him.
Borin sat on the ground, sharpening his axe.Draven lay face-down in the grass, dramatically awaiting death.
Then the elder spoke again.
"Ren. There's something you should know."
He looked up.
She took a breath.
"The rider was not the only one who felt the ripple last night."
Ren froze.
Lyra stiffened.
Borin stopped sharpening.
Draven popped his head up like a frightened mole.
The elder continued quietly:
"Messengers from two clans passed through the nearby road before sunrise, asking questions about 'forest disturbances.'A group from a minor sect set up camp by the river.And there are rumors of demon scouts moving in the northern woods."
Ren's stomach dropped.
Lyra's hand found his instinctively.
Borin muttered:
"Wonderful. Just wonderful."
Draven rolled on the ground.
"We're all going to die."
The elder looked Ren in the eye.
"Child… the world is beginning to turn.Sects, clans, kingdoms — they all want to know what happened here.And some will want to control it."
Ren swallowed hard.
"And some will want to destroy it," he whispered.
The elder nodded slowly.
"That too."
The echo inside him pulsed again — not fearful, but alert.
Lyra leaned close, her forehead touching Ren's temple.
"We'll face it.All of it.Together."
Ren exhaled.
For a moment, the world felt less sharp.
But the quiet of the village…
It wasn't real.
It wasn't safe.
It wasn't calm.
It was the quiet before the spark.
A spark that would ignite a continent.