The lantern light flickered across the walls of the room, casting strange shadows over the ancient books and scrolls. I could feel Xeno beside me, still silent, still unreadable, but somehow… more present than ever.
I shifted nervously. "Do you think he… trusts us?" I asked quietly, nodding toward the Elder, who was carefully arranging some of the books on a low stone table.
Xeno didn't answer immediately. His hand brushed mine once, not enough to hold, just a small reminder that he was there. Then he murmured, "He doesn't trust anyone. Not fully. Not yet."
I swallowed hard. That made sense. After everything, after the world had become… what it was, how could anyone trust anyone?
The Elder looked up at us, his eyes sharp. "You will leave this village soon," he said. His voice was steady, but I could hear the weight behind it. "The books you seek… or even fragments of them… do not stay in one place for long. And the world outside… it is changing faster than you know."
"What do we do first?" I asked. "Do you have a map? Or… directions?"
The Elder shook his head. "No map will guide you. Only the path you choose and the truths you are ready to face. Some of the books are guarded by knowledge… others by fear… and others… by the very sins that give life to Xenophores."
Xeno's fingers tightened around the handle of his shovel. I noticed a small, almost imperceptible line in his jaw. Whatever he knew, he wasn't saying. And I realized again that the world seemed… quieter, calmer, safer when he was near.
"You don't know everything," I said softly.
He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something far away. Then he said, quietly but firmly: "No. But we will find out."
The Elder sighed and straightened. "There is one thing I can give you," he said. He reached into the folds of his robe and produced a small, weathered scroll. "It will not show you the way… but it will show you the first step. Beyond that, you must rely on your own judgment… and on the boy who walks between light and shadow."
Xeno took the scroll without a word, still keeping his blindfold tightly over his eyes. He traced the edges with his fingers as if he could sense something hidden in the folds.
I took a deep breath and looked around the shrine. Hundreds of books lined the walls, each one filled with fragments of knowledge, secrets, and warnings. My stomach churned with a strange mixture of excitement and fear.
"Are we ready?" I asked him.
Xeno didn't answer. He just rose to his full height and placed a hand on my shoulder. The weight was light, but it carried a certainty I couldn't explain.
Then we stepped out of the shrine.
The village was still. Too still. Even the wind had stopped moving. And somewhere, far beyond the edge of the trees, I thought I heard it , a faint clicking, hesitant this time, as if something was watching our first step.
"Whatever it is," Xeno said quietly, "it will find us. So we must move first."
I nodded. My heart pounded in my chest. The world outside the village was dangerous, yes… but the unknown stretched before us, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like we were moving forward.
And somehow… I knew that every step we took would change everything.
The village disappeared behind us, swallowed by jagged rocks and broken earth. Every step felt heavy, as if the darkness itself was pressing down on us.
I hugged my cloak around me, heart hammering, when I heard it first, a soft, irregular clicking. Not far away. Too precise. Too… purposeful.
Xeno stopped. His blindfolded head tilted slightly, listening. I could feel the air change.
Something was coming.
A shadow slid across the jagged rocks ahead. At first I thought it was just a trick of the darkness, but then… the clicking grew louder, punctuated by the faint scraping of claws on stone.
I swallowed hard. A shape emerged from the blackness.
It was like nothing I had ever seen. Its body was long and wiry, but twisted in unnatural angles. Limbs stretched farther than they should, each ending in razor-sharp claws that scraped the rocks like nails across glass. Its skin was slick, black with green veins that pulsed faintly. And its eyes… dozens of them, spiraling in patterns across its torso, each glowing faintly, moving independently, never blinking.
My stomach turned. My legs wanted to run, but they wouldn't.
Xeno didn't flinch.
The creature froze, cocking its head, as if studying him. Then it hissed a sound that was hollow, wet, and filled with malice and lunged.
"Yona! Move!" he shouted, but I couldn't. I could only watch.
The Sepharion, I later learned that was its name moved with impossible speed. Its claws struck the air where Xeno had been standing moments before, sending sparks of stone flying. The sound was like broken bones hitting rock.
Xeno met it head-on. He didn't swing recklessly. He didn't shout. He moved like a shadow dancing through its strikes, the shovel catching each claw and forcing the creature to twist in midair.
I couldn't look away. It was beautiful, in a horrific way. Every strike, every block, every dodge, precise, deliberate and utterly lethal.
The Sepharion lashed out again, claws slicing close enough to graze his arm. He didn't flinch. With a sudden pivot, he slammed the flat edge of the shovel into its chest. The creature shrieked a wet, hollow sound and twisted, slamming against the rocks.
It wasn't enough. It lunged again, faster this time, a blur of limbs and teeth. Xeno stepped forward calmly, yet somehow with impossible timing. His shovel rose and came down like a falling star, cutting through one of its spindly arms. It screamed, thrashing violently, eyes flashing in terror and rage.
I pressed my hands to my mouth.
The Sepharion twisted, trying to escape, but Xeno didn't give it room. Every step it took, he met. Every strike it threw, he blocked. Then, with one final, fluid motion, he struck its heart a clean, precise strike.
The creature's body went rigid, its many eyes flickering once… then extinguished.
I stumbled back, gasping. The silence afterward was absolute.
Xeno didn't move. He simply stood, shovel lowered, breathing calm, almost like nothing had happened. I looked at the broken, lifeless form of the Sepharion and felt a shiver crawl down my spine.
"What… what was that?" I whispered.
He didn't answer. He never looked at me, only straight ahead, his body still radiating control and quiet danger.
The clicking outside faded, leaving nothing but the wind whistling between the rocks.
I realized then Xeno was something else. Something I couldn't name, couldn't understand. And I wasn't sure I wanted to.
I stepped closer, voice barely above a whisper. "Will… will there be more?"
His hand brushed mine briefly as he tightened his grip on the shovel. "There always will be," he said quietly, more to himself than to me.
And somewhere in the darkness, beyond the rocks, I thought I heard another faint click. Hesitant. Curious. Waiting.