The night stretched endlessly as Jain and Lyra ran, the darkness kept pressing close, thick as ink. The only sound was their breath, ragged and uneven, and the rustling of leaves beneath their heavy steps. The village had long since vanished behind them, swallowed by the creeping shadows that had chased them into the woods.
Jain didn't stop until his lungs burned, and his legs threatened to collapse beneath him. He only slowed when the trees became a tangled maze, ancient and looming, their twisted branches clawing at the sky. A small clearing lay ahead, barely illuminated by the fractured moonlight piercing through the canopy.
"This is far enough," he rasped, glancing behind him. No sign of pursuit. But that meant nothing.
Lyra released his hand, sinking onto a fallen log. She clutched her cloak tighter around Her shoulders. her breath still uneven. "What was that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jain swallowed hard, shaking his head, "I don't know." He pressed a hand to his neck where the mark still throbbed with a dull, Lingering heat. "But it wasn't the first time I've seen it."
Lyra looked at him sharply. "You've seen that.... thing before?"
"In my visions," he admitted." But never like this. Never so close."
Silence settled between them, heavy and unyielding. The forest around them pulsed with unseen life, the occasional rustle in the undergrowth reminding them that they were far from alone. Still, it was nothing like the suffocating stillness that had fallen over the village before the attack. That silence had been wrong unnatural.
Lyra exhaled slowly. rubbing her arms as though trying to chase away an invisible chill. "What do we do now?"
Jain didn't have an answer. He had left the only home he'd ever known with nothing but a dagger and a name—the Gifted. But where did he even begin to find them? if they still existed at all.
A sharp snap from the underbrush sent them both into motion. Lyra sprang to her feet, and Jain reached for his dagger, but the figure that emerged wasn't the creature from before. it was a man, his form stooped with age, his robes tattered and layered with dust.
"Put that away boy," the stranger said, his voice rough with disuse. "If i meant you harm, you'd already know it."
Jain hesitated but didn't lower his weapon. "Who are you?"
The man stepped closer, his sharp eyes flicking between them. "A friend or as close to one as you'll find out here." His gaze lingered on Jain's neck, where the mark still pulsed faintly. A Knowing look crossed his face. "you're looking for the Gifted, aren't you?"
Jain stiffened. "You know about them?"
A grim smile tugged at the old man's lips. "I know a great many things." He glanced over his shoulder, as through sensing something neither of them could see. "And if you value your lives, you'll come with me. Now"
Jain and Lyra exchanged a glance. Trusting a stranger in the middle of nowhere wasn't exactly the safest choice.
But then again, neither was staying put