Dawn led them into a hollow where a ragged settlement clung stubbornly to life—tents stitched with fraying cloth, huts patched with desperation. Survivors of Kareth lingered in the shadows, their eyes hollowed by loss, their movements slow with the weight of grief.
As they approached, a new pain sliced through Caelen—sharp and unfamiliar, cutting through the land's dull roar like a knife.
A gaunt woman stepped forward, her voice rough with suspicion."Who are you?" she snapped.
"Travelers," Elira replied evenly. "We seek rest, not trouble."
The woman's gaze flicked to Caelen, and her fear stabbed into him—a sharp needle in his chest."We've nothing to give."
"We're not here to take," Caelen said, stepping forward.
After a moment, she relented and led them to a low fire where a few others huddled for warmth. Among them sat a boy—no more than ten—his face slack, his eyes distant. Blank.
Caelen's curse reached for him instinctively—and recoiled. There was no pain. No sorrow. No fear. Just… nothing.
"Who's he?" Caelen asked, nodding toward the boy.
"Orphan," the woman answered curtly. "Lost everything in the war. Doesn't speak. Doesn't cry."
Caelen knelt beside the boy, his brows drawn."I'm Caelen," he said softly. "What's your name?"
The boy didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't seem to hear.
Caelen reached out a hand—but the curse recoiled again. There was nothing to take, no feeling to share. Not numbness, but absence. As if something had hollowed the boy from the inside out.
Elira moved closer, her expression darkening. "What's wrong?"
"He's… empty," Caelen murmured, rising slowly. "It's not natural."
The woman shrugged. "Saw too much in the fires. Broke him."
The fires.
Caelen's stomach turned. The same fires from his visions of Aerthalin's end. Not just destruction—erasure. A world where people didn't scream, didn't cry. Just stared into nothing, like this boy.
"This is what's coming," he whispered to Elira. "Not death. Not grief. Silence."
"We should go," he said aloud, voice rough.
Elira nodded, her eyes heavy with sadness. "Sometimes… you can't help. No matter how much you want to."
As they turned to leave, Caelen glanced back one last time.
The boy still sat by the fire, unmoving. Unblinking.A ghost of what could be.
The weight of it followed Caelen into the cold.
A warning he couldn't shake.