The light of the setting sun cast a soft glow over the village, bathing the wooden houses in warm colors. Smoke rose from the chimneys, blending with the scent of freshly baked bread and burning wood. Kyro (watchful) took a deep breath of the cool air, letting his gaze wander through the streets.
People went about their daily tasks. An elderly woman swept the sand from her porch, while a few children played with sticks, wielding imaginary swords in a battle only they could see. The sounds of conversations and laughter filled the air—it was an image that did not match in any way what they had expected from Black Mark.
The contrast was unsettling. Kyro (thoughtful) took a step back, letting his gaze drift over the rooftops. They were solidly built, the wood well maintained, the streets surprisingly clean. Nothing about this place looked like it had been touched by the corruption of Black Mark.
Utak (grinning) pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders. "I'm telling you, we landed in the best spot on this entire island."
Kyro (slightly incredulous) turned to him. Utak stood with a group of men in front of a small shop. They handed him a steaming drink, which he accepted with a grateful nod. The scent of honey and spices filled the air, and as he took a sip, he clicked his tongue.
"Not bad. Not bad at all."
The men laughed. One of them—a broad-shouldered man with a weathered face—clapped him on the back. "Strengthens the bones. If you're on Black Mark, you need to stay strong."
Kyro (with a mix of skepticism and curiosity) stepped closer. "So, there are dangers here after all?"
The man nodded slowly, taking a deep sip from his own cup. "The island is not without its dangers. But our village is safe. Nothing happens here."
That sounded almost too good to be true.
Utak (grinning) "So, you never have any trouble?"
"No."
The man said it with such conviction that Kyro (slightly unsettled) hesitated for a moment. Not a single second of hesitation. No explanations. Just "No."
Utak (shrugging) "Then I guess we arrived at the right place at the right time."
The villagers led them to a small house on the edge of the marketplace. It was simple but warmly furnished—a wooden table, two beds, a steaming bowl of soup already waiting for them.
Kyro let himself fall onto one of the beds, the mattress giving slightly under his weight. Real wood, real blankets—not an improvised shelter, but something that truly felt like a home.
Utak grabbed the soup, sat down at the table, and slurped it noisily. "I don't know about you, but if the rest of Black Mark is like this, I really don't get the fuss."
Kyro (lost in thought) stared at the ceiling, replaying the day in his mind. He couldn't deny that something in him relaxed. Maybe it was the hospitality, maybe the normalcy that this village exuded.
He had expected the worst, but instead, he had ended up here.
"Maybe we're just lucky."
Utak (laughing) "Then we should enjoy it."
And they did.
The first night on Black Mark was quiet.
No shadows lurking in the darkness. No noises waking them from their sleep. No monsters waiting beneath the ground.
Only the silence of a peaceful village.
The next morning, they woke up to the sounds of an awakening village. Voices, the clatter of hooves on hard ground, the hammering of wood against wood. Kyro (still drowsy) sat up, rubbing his eyes. The sun was already high in the sky, and a pleasant wind blew through the open window.
Utak was already outside, talking to an elderly man. His gestures were lively, and Kyro could see the grin on his face.
He pulled on his jacket and stepped outside.
"You missed breakfast," Utak called to him. "But don't worry, it wasn't anything special."
Kyro (curious) stepped beside him. "So? Did you learn anything interesting?"
The elderly man—apparently one of the village elders—smiled calmly. "You are welcome here as long as you follow the rules."
Kyro (raising an eyebrow) "Rules?"
"No violence. No trespassing into forbidden areas. And above all… do not leave the village after sunset."
Utak (with slight amusement) "And why exactly?"
The man hesitated. For a moment, he seemed to be searching for the right words.
"At night, Black Mark is not as friendly as it seems during the day."
A cold gust of wind swept through the streets.
Kyro (tense) "What happens after sunset?"
The man looked at him calmly. "Better that you don't find out."
The days passed.
With every hour they spent in the village, the feeling grew that they might not have landed on a death trap of an island after all.
They helped the villagers—carrying wood, fixing roofs, guarding the village border at night, even though there was obviously never an attack.
Utak (mildly suspicious) shook his head while working with an elderly man on a wooden cart. "This is almost too easy."
"Why?" the man asked.
Utak considered. Then he shook his head. "Forget it. Just a thought."
There was nothing that unsettled him. No reason for mistrust.
And that's exactly what made it so perfect.
That evening, they sat on a bench in front of their house, looking over the village. A man played a flute, the melody floating through the air, mixing with the quiet murmur of conversations.
Utak (thoughtful) "You know, Kyro, I really thought this place would be much worse."
Kyro (relaxed) leaned back. "Yeah."
Utak let his gaze drift through the streets. "Do you think… the rest of the island is like this?"
Kyro didn't know. But this place was real. It was safe. It was their first home on Black Mark.
He closed his eyes.
And in the distance, beyond the village, something whispered through the darkness.
But they didn't hear it.
Not yet.