For the next seven days, time revolved around a single door.
It remained locked at the end of the hallway.
Lyn left trays of food in front of it. Always fresh. Always untouched.
Kaellia, more methodical, slid notes under the door — brief words, but full of care.
Allan merely watched, but his fists clenched every time he passed the room, as if holding back a scream.
Saphira, in turn, simply stayed. Sitting on the cold floor, back against the wall, like a sentinel waiting for a sound — any sound — from within.
But the silence never broke.
On the eighth day, the Guild knocked at the door.
— "Official summons. Patrol and reconnaissance south of the Mirval Forest. Monsters migrating near the capital. All ranked members must report."
— "But one of ours is still…" Lyn tried, voice thin.
— "Direct order from the Guild. No exceptions."
And so, they left.
Saphira was the last to descend the stairs. She paused before the door.
Her whisper was soft, almost sorrowful:
— "We'll be back soon… even if you never say your name."
---
Later that same day, another guest arrived.
Tall. Seventeen, maybe.
Dark blue hair, like the sky before rain.
Grey, calm eyes. Quiet as a lake at midnight.
— "Name?" the receptionist asked.
— "Kael."
The man raised an eyebrow.
— "Half-elf?"
— "So they say," the young man replied, smiling with one corner of his mouth.
He carried little: a light backpack, a bow, and around his neck, a silver pendant with the ancient symbol of the northern elves — just like the one Jin had seen… a lifetime ago.
Kael climbed the stairs calmly, his eyes drifting over the details of the inn.
At the end of the hallway, he stopped.
A sound. Faint. A stifled whimper.
It came from behind the locked door.
Kael approached, knelt before it like one would before an altar.
— "...Are you there?"
Nothing more.
But the silence had weight. A living weight.
A dragging breath, as if fighting to exist.
Kael pressed his forehead to the door.
— "I don't know who you are. And you don't know me. But… I heard."
His voice did not ask for entry. Only presence.
— "Whatever you're feeling… you shouldn't carry it alone."
Silence.
Kael leaned against the wall, sitting beside the door.
— "When I was a child, I used to dream that my mother died. Always the same way: alone, in the cold.
My father said being strong meant burying pain. But I... almost faded trying to follow that advice."
For the span of a long breath, nothing moved.
Then, a faint creak.
The door opened.
Darkness. The air felt heavy, thick as unmoving mist.
In the gloom — Jin. A silhouette blended into shadow, hollow eyes and trembling hands.
Kael didn't push forward. He sat quietly in the corner of the room.
— "I grew up in a village up north. Cold all the time. My father said it was the sky punishing the earth.
My mother was human. He was an elf. They hated each other… but loved me. Go figure."
Jin didn't react. But the trembling in his fingers worsened.
— "When she died, he took me to the forest. Said pain was weakness, and should die inside the chest.
So I died a little. Inside."
Silence.
Kael tilted his head slightly.
— "I saw you when you arrived. Not with my eyes. With my chest.
It felt like the world had forgotten you existed. I... know that feeling."
Jin closed his eyes. Something warm threatened to escape them. Something old, long held back.
Kael turned his face slightly.
— "My name is Kael. Just Kael."
And the memory struck Jin like a blade and an embrace.
---
Flashback
Two boys sitting at the river's edge. Feet in the water.
— "Kael means child of the wind, Jin! Pretty, right?"
— "You made that up."
— "Did not. Grandpa said it!"
— "You lie too much…"
— "But I love you more than the wind loves to run."
Laughter. Water splashing.
Summer. Life.
---
Present
The name echoed in Jin's mind.
An old scar that never healed right.
He tried to speak.
— "…Jin.
My name is… Jin."
Kael smiled, but said nothing. He respected the moment like one respects mourning.
---
Meanwhile, the forest swallowed them.
Kaellia led the way, eyes alert.
Allan gripped his sword, always ready.
Lyn touched the trees, sensing magic in the living bark.
Saphira walked in silence, as if her heart were elsewhere.
— "No signs of abnormal monsters," Allan noted.
— "It's still early," said Kaellia. "The map didn't show this rift in the ground. But the magic is pulsing. Something's hiding here."
Lyn hesitated.
— "I hope the boy is okay…"
— "He's stronger than he looks," murmured Saphira, without knowing why.
---
Back at the inn, Jin slept.
So suddenly it felt like a soul's collapse.
Kael remained. Silent.
He watched Jin's face, saw the tension ease — just a little. As if sleep gave him permission to exist.
---
At dusk, the adventurers returned.
Caked in mud, exhausted. But alive.
— "Is his door still shut?" Allan asked.
— "Yes… no sign of him," Lyn replied.
Then they heard it.
Light footsteps.
They ran to the hallway. The door was ajar.
Saphira pushed it open hard.
Kael was still there. Sitting on the floor.
Jin, asleep. Face peaceful.
Allan drew his sword. Kaellia raised her hands, ready to cast.
— "Who are you?! How did you get in?"
Kael stood slowly, no sudden moves.
— "My name is Kael. Just Kael.
I didn't come to hurt anyone. I just heard someone crying."
Saphira placed herself between him and Jin, a wall of protection.
— "Do you know him?"
Kael looked at Jin calmly.
— "No. I just know his name. Jin."
Everyone froze.
Lyn whispered, almost choking:
— "He… spoke?"
Kaellia still held her magic, fingers glowing.
— "Why should we believe you?"
Kael replied softly:
— "Because sometimes… all it takes to save someone is to be heard."
---
That night, Jin dreamed.
He was lying on the grass, a sky full of stars above.
Kael — the other Kael — smiled beside him.
— "Sleeping with your eyes open?" he teased, throwing leaves in his face.
Jin smiled.
His mother came with fresh fruit. His father, with the old dagger on his belt.
They laughed. They touched.
Family.
But the sky darkened. The stars vanished.
The laughter continued… too loud… and then, stopped.
Jin couldn't move.
He woke up.
The room was too dark. Darker than it should be.
The air suffocated. The walls felt closer.
A sound.
Laughter. Deep. Raspy. Unnatural.
It came from the corner.
Jin turned slowly.
There — where shadow met wall — something was rising.
Long. Too thin. Arms dangling like deformed blades.
Eyes. Two red points.
And a smile. A wide, inhuman smile. A slit across the face of the dark.
Bouros.
The shape of fear that the soul knows before the mind.
The thing spoke:
— "Did you sleep well, child?"
The voice was wind scraping bone.