It's been almost three years…
And I still want to grow stronger—sharpen my sword skills and become the greatest explorer there is.
The academy? It bores me. But hey, I guess that's life.
-Arsy Gofdraig
Tiny footsteps echoed softly along the cobblestone path as Arsy made his way toward the heart of Leondhardt Village—the place where the grand Leondhardt Elementary Academy stood tall. The morning sun spilled its light across the rooftops, warming the air and stirring what
little energy remained in his still-sleepy body. A gentle breeze carried the scent of damp wood and earth, laced with the fresh trace of dew.
The clatter of wooden wheels rolled past as a merchant's cart rumbled down the main road, blending with the chatter of early vendors setting up their stalls. A few horse-drawn wagons were parked near the village station, unloading crates of harvest and goods from neighboring towns. One carriage, bearing the emblem of the kingdom, moved slowly past the stone steps—off to the capital, no doubt, carrying sealed letters and official cargo. Morning in Leondhardt was always like this: lively, steady, and ever so full of motion. It was the pulse of a village still growing.
A single leaf drifted lazily down from a tree, landing softly on Arsy's shoulder. His uniform—crisp white with bright orange trims—was spotless, a sign of the quiet pride he held as a student. His short trousers fluttered slightly with each step, following the rhythm of his early walk like a loyal companion.
"This strawberry candy is amazing! I gotta buy more of this…" he mumbled, savoring the glimmering red treat in his hand.
"But I've only got ten bronze coins left... Tch. That's just enough for two more."
The sweetness melted across his tongue, refreshing him—though the reality of his pocket situation was far less pleasant.
From across the road, a boy waved at him with the energy of a crackling fire. His mint-green hair gleamed under the morning sun, and his golden eyes sparkled like flecks of metal catching the light.
"Arsy! Let's walk together!" he called, voice bright and cheerful.
Arsy squinted, trying to make out who it was. It took a few seconds… but the face finally clicked.
"Eldrin!" he answered, his tone lifting.
Eldrin Gwinfael—his desk partner, classmate, and one of the few people Arsy actually looked forward to seeing each day. The Gwinfael family had been Leondhardt's traditional winemakers for generations. To some, they were just local craftsmen, but in this village, they were the sole suppliers for the bars and taverns that lit up after dark.
One of those places was the legendary "Amber Flask," a bar that had stood for decades, soaking up tales of wanderers, merchants, and night-dwellers alike. The building sat proudly along a row of old shops, right beside the forge owned by Arian—the village's gruff but well-respected blacksmith.
"You ready for today's lessons?" Eldrin asked, wearing a small, knowing grin.
Arsy sighed. "Ready or not, we still have to go…"
It was the first week of the semester—an orientation week. Every academy in the region, whether elementary, middle, or advanced, shared this tradition. A slow start. A week where students lounged around, shared stories, and adjusted to the new term before the real subjects came crashing in.
The system was designed to let students grow at their own pace—to nurture their talents naturally. For most, it worked.
But for Arsy… it was a double-edged sword.
"Honestly, I'm tired of learning the same things for three years straight," he said, patting Eldrin on the shoulder. "Plants, fruits, counting... I want more than that."
Eldrin chuckled, clearly used to his friend's restlessness.
"I've got a feeling you won't be bored for long," he said, voice brimming with quiet confidence.
Arsy glanced at him, unconvinced… yet curious.
The two boys continued their walk through the busy morning streets, now joined by other students in uniform. The sunlight climbed higher, and birds spiraled overhead in wide arcs.
As they neared the academy, the full scale of the structure came into view. The main building rose three stories high, with a central white tower standing tall in the middle of the campus. This tower housed the great academy clock, its echoing chimes marking the passage of each lesson. The surrounding courtyard buzzed with activity—students talking, laughing, stretching in the training yard, or lounging beneath the giant tree that had long been the symbol of the academy.
Footsteps, laughter, and birdsong filled the air—a morning symphony that marked the start of another school day.
Arsy and Eldrin greeted a few familiar faces in the hallway before stepping into their classroom. They headed to their seats and dropped their bags onto the desks, settling in for whatever the day would bring.
Leondhardt Elementary Academy — Classroom 3B
Morning, Luminisday, 11th of Mesiis, Year 1010
The classroom buzzed with chatter, the noise of students savoring the last bits of freedom before lessons officially began. Some were buried in their books, others traded jokes with their seatmates. The long wooden desks shifted ever so slightly as students fidgeted in anticipation, waiting for something—or someone—to begin the day.
At the front of the room stood a man with arms crossed, eyes sharp as they swept across the class. Slowly, one by one, students began to notice his presence. His short red hair was neatly combed, and the deep blue academic robes he wore gave him an air of both authority and quiet dignity.
"All right, everyone," his voice rang out, calm yet commanding. The remaining conversations died down at once, and students hurried back to their seats. "New year, new classroom, new semester… new energy!"
In the corner, Arsy let out a small sigh as he unlocked the drawer of his desk and pulled out his notebook with reluctant hands. Beside him, Eldrin was smiling faintly, as if sensing something interesting about this first day. He had a hunch that this class might not be as boring as Arsy feared.
"Before we begin, allow me to introduce myself. I believe most of you don't know me yet."
A few students nodded—Eldrin among them—while others simply stared. Arsy kept his usual deadpan expression, watching silently.
The man raised a small wand, and in an instant, vis energy flowed from its tip. A soft golden-white light shimmered, dancing gracefully in the air before forming glowing letters across the front board.
Alaric Caerhallow
The name appeared clearly, suspended midair like an elegant signature of light.
"My name is Alaric Caerhallow. You may call me Professor Alaric. I'll be handling Human History this semester. Let's do our best for the next two hours, shall we?"
"Yes, Professor Alaric!" the class responded in unison—though some voices were clearly more enthusiastic than others.
The professor gave a pleased nod. "A little background about myself—I'm from House Caerhallow, a family deeply rooted in scholarship, especially history. We hail from Corvidholm, the capital of Meddylbran Province. It's a city of towering libraries and ancient halls. My own family home... well, it's more of a book warehouse than a living space. I love reading."
Arsy heard this and thought to himself with a silent scoff, "So what? I read books too. Not exactly impressive."
He refrained from rolling his eyes, but the sarcasm echoed loudly in his mind. Around him, other students began murmuring, curious about their new teacher's origins.
Meanwhile, Eldrin's expression softened with interest. Corvidholm, huh? Sounds like a fascinating place... probably looks nothing like here. He recalled the vivid illustrations he had once seen in textbooks.
Professor Alaric scanned the room. "Who here enjoys reading?"
Several students eagerly raised their hands—some sincere, some obviously seeking attention, and a few pretending to care. Not everyone could process books quickly, but Arsy and Eldrin were exceptions. Both had a natural affinity for absorbing information.
"Good! If you want to master magic, you'll need to befriend books. There are no shortcuts," the professor said with conviction.
He waved his wand again, and the previous letters vanished. In their place, glowing golden lines formed a large, detailed image of a continent—its borders, mountains, and rivers drawn with precise strokes.
Human Habitat — World Overview
Continent: Astralyth
Area: 1,237,299,191 km² (±2% of Earth's total landmass)
Classification: Small Continent
Key Characteristics:
The only continent on Earth inhabited by humans.
Vast land covering diverse ecosystems (grasslands, forests, mountains, deserts, swamps, etc.).
Surrounded by immense oceans filled with mystery, largely untouched by humankind.
Natural borders are nearly impenetrable—towering mountains, eternal sea storms, bottomless chasms.
A deep history of ancient civilizations now lost, leaving behind ruins and myths.
Curious eyes turned toward the front as Professor Alaric allowed a moment of silence before continuing.
"To the best of our knowledge, Astralyth is the only continent inhabited by humans on this planet. But," he tapped a small glowing dot on the large map, "there are old records that hint at other races—perhaps even other lands—beyond our sight."
"Our continent is vast," he said, "but in the grand scale of Earth… it's barely two percent."
Students began murmuring among themselves. Some scribbled notes with focus, others simply tried to process the scale.
"Our kingdom—Invictusia—stands proudly here. It is the heart of humanity's progress, home to bustling cities, sprawling ports, and a network of roads that binds the land together. And here we are," he smiled lightly, "learning about a world far greater than we've ever imagined."
The room quieted further. Even Arsy, who had shown little interest earlier, now leaned in slightly. There was something in the way Professor Alaric spoke that made him want to listen.
"Professor…" a girl raised her hand.
He turned to her and smiled. "Yes? If I'm not mistaken, you're from House Sylwain—Janna Sylwain, correct?"
She nodded. "That's right, Professor. We've all heard about the eternal storm that surrounds our continent for five thousand kilometers. Why can't we get past it? Shouldn't magic be able to break through it?"
Arsy side-eyed her. "Top of the class, always showing off."
Professor Alaric chuckled gently. "A fair question, Janna. But rather than simply explain, I'd rather show you."
He stepped forward and retrieved a small crystal prism—deep blue, with a faint glow pulsing from within.
"This is a Map Arcanum. A magical device capable of projecting a three-dimensional map using vis."
With a flick of his wand, the crystal shone. Golden light swirled upward, forming a brilliant floating hologram of Astralyth. Its terrain shifted in real-time—mountains rose, forests rippled, rivers flowed. Cities shimmered like jewels beneath a magical sky.
Gasps echoed around the room. Some students leaned closer to get a better look.
Professor Alaric gestured toward the map. "This is a recording from a royal mage experiment using wind-based echolocation magic. The goal: to extend vis beyond Astralyth's borders."
The projection shifted—waves of translucent magic rippled outward from the center of the continent. But as the waves reached a certain invisible line surrounding Astralyth… they began to fade. The once-strong pulses flickered, dimmed… then vanished entirely.
Students held their breath. Some were confused, others fascinated.
"As soon as vis touches this boundary, it begins to weaken—and then disappear," Alaric said, magnifying the area where the magic died. "This phenomenon isn't natural. Something beyond our lands is suppressing vis. Actively resisting it."
A voice whispered from the back, "It's just a theory, right?"
Another student reached out to the projection, eyes wide with wonder as their fingers passed through the light. "Incredible…"
But not all faces showed awe. One student swallowed nervously, voice barely audible. "If we lose vis… that means we'd be defenseless if we ever left this continent."
Janna raised her hand again. "But Professor, couldn't we just overwhelm the boundary with enough power? If we pour more vis into the spell, shouldn't it work?"
Professor Alaric smiled thinly. "A very clever thought. But no—it's not about quantity. Our researchers have already tried amplifying echolocation magic thousands of times over. The outcome remains the same. No matter how much vis we channel… it disappears."
Arsy narrowed his eyes. "This clearly isn't a normal storm…"
The professor fell silent for a beat. He scanned the classroom, making sure every pair of eyes was locked on him. Then, he tapped the Map Arcanum once more.
A ring of deep red light surrounded the continent. The map trembled softly with an almost inaudible hum. A few students flinched at the sound.
"They call it…" he paused, letting the silence draw tension, "…Anti-Vis."
The class erupted into whispers. Even those who had seemed bored earlier now sat upright, attention sharpened by curiosity—and concern.
A strange sensation stirred in Arsy's chest. Anti-Vis... Something that nullifies vis itself...
Something about it made his stomach twist. Like a truth too big to fully grasp.
Professor Alaric looked at each student in turn, ensuring they understood the weight of what had just been revealed.
"This is our greatest question now, children. If something exists beyond our borders that can erase our vis… does that mean we are truly alone in this world? Or is there something greater… hidden beyond the eternal storm?"
He paused, then added lightly, "No need to panic, of course. Humans can live up to 150 years, after all. We still have time."
"And don't forget—take notes," he said with a smirk.
Arsy grumbled internally. "Why are students the only ones who have to write with pens? If that's the rule, then teachers should too. Always going on about 'ethics this, ethics that'—but they get to cheat with magic."
The room fell into the familiar rhythm of scratching pens and rustling parchment. Janna's quill danced across her page with expert precision. Eldrin, meanwhile, was still staring at the projection, his brows furrowed in thought.
Arsy took a different approach. Instead of copying the lecture word-for-word, he began sketching a rough diagram of the Anti-Vis zone in his notebook. His fingers moved quickly, outlining blurred edges around Astralyth, with small notes scrawled beside each part—thoughts that were uniquely his own.
The classroom fell silent again. No one dared to answer Professor Alaric's final question—but everyone understood.
For the first time in their lives, they had begun to question the world they thought was absolute.
A world they believed belonged solely to humans... might not be so simple after all.
"But understanding the edges of the continent isn't enough," Professor Alaric continued, stepping toward the front. "If we cannot leave Astralyth, then how did our ancestors measure time? How did they know when seasons changed, or when festivals should be held?"
Some students frowned. A few glanced toward their desk partners, searching for an answer. Soft murmurs filled the corners of the room—confusion hanging thick in the air.
"In a wider world, perhaps people use stars or the sun to guide them. But in Astralyth, we are surrounded by an eternal storm that spans five thousand kilometers. It restricts our journey—but it does not obscure the sky. Our ancestors could still observe the sun and moon. What they needed was a consistent, unified way to record time."
Professor Alaric approached the board, briefly scanning over the golden writing from earlier. With a flick of his wand, a stream of vis erased the old notes like dust caught in the wind.
"After the continent unified under a single kingdom, the need for a standard calendar emerged," he said. With another elegant wave, golden letters formed once more—this time sketching out an enormous table.
Astralyth Calendar
Day – Month – Season Breakdown:
1. Luminisday — Mesiis → First Spring2. Lunarday — Insolis → First Summer3. Terraday — Umbralis → First Harvest4. Ignisday — Velaris → Autumn5. Aquaeday — Glacialis → Winter6. Ventiday — Nivis → Peak Winter7. Verdeday — Floralis → Second Spring8. Ferrumday — Luminis → Second Summer9. Caeliday — Equinoxis → Second Harvest10. Stelladay — Aurelis → Preparation
Among them, Arsy sighed and leaned closer to Eldrin. "Eldrin, haven't we learned this since first year? Why are we repeating it again?"
Eldrin smiled. "Maybe there's more to it this time. Let's see where the professor's going with it."
Arsy huffed, still unimpressed by what he considered recycled material.
"As you can see," Professor Alaric continued, "The Astralyth Calendar consists of ten months—each representing shifts in the seasons throughout the year." He tapped his wand against the table, causing the glowing script to pulse faintly. "Each month contains around fifty days, adjusted to match astronomical cycles first observed by Lucy Meddylbran."
"In addition," he said, "our week is made up of ten days, and each day consists of thirty hours. This is quite different from time systems that may exist beyond Astralyth."
"Each day holds philosophical meaning," he added, "connected to elements and aspects of life studied across many disciplines."
He paused, scanning the classroom once more. "And that… is the calendar we still use today."
Silence returned, broken only by the scratching of quills and soft whispers—students slowly beginning to realize that there was more to history than they had once thought.
Then, from the back of the room—
"Professor, are we done now?" Arsy asked with a mischievous grin. "Can we leave already?"
Heads turned. A ripple of laughter and anticipation spread across the classroom.
"Yeah, Professor! Same here!" a few others echoed.
Professor Alaric gave a soft sigh, then walked toward Arsy's desk with a mysterious smirk. "Not so fast... I have a task for you all."
"Ughhhh..."
Groans filled the room.
"Arsy, why'd you ask?!" one student scolded, slapping their forehead.
Arsy rolled his eyes. "Come on. He was gonna assign homework anyway. Not my fault."
Professor Alaric chuckled and fixed his eyes on Arsy. "Relax… You're from the Gofdraig family, aren't you? If I needed equipment, I could just visit your father's forge, right?"
Arsy narrowed his eyes and grinned. "Sure—five times the normal price, just for you."
Alaric's smile sharpened, eyes gleaming. "In that case, next week you'll be studying in the hallway, Arsy."
Laughter erupted. Arsy groaned, pouting just a bit. "So unfair…" he grumbled internally.
Once the humor died down, Alaric returned to the front, his expression now serious.
"All right. One final topic. As you may know, there are anomalous zones scattered across Astralyth. These places don't follow any known patterns. No one really knows when they first appeared—but research suggests they've existed for hundreds of thousands of years."
"They are called... Visflux."
The mood shifted immediately.
Some students sat straighter. Others began whispering again. The name wasn't unfamiliar—but hearing it from Professor Alaric carried a weight that made them realize how little they truly understood.
"Despite their danger," he continued, "Visflux zones are valuable to explorers. They hold resources beyond measure—rare creature meat, unique metals, ancient artifacts you can't find anywhere else."
Several students' eyes sparkled with intrigue.
Eldrin leaned back, lost in thought.
"And now," Professor Alaric said, his tone grave, "my question is this—if one day, you find yourselves exploring a Visflux... what would your purpose be? That's your assignment."
As if on cue, the academy bell rang, echoing across the room. The lesson was over.
Students scrambled to pack their things, some sighing in relief.
Arsy stretched with a groan. "Finally… freedom," he muttered, glancing at Eldrin. "Hey, let's go!"
Eldrin nodded, but said little—his mind still spinning with thoughts of Visflux and everything they had just learned.
The two exited the classroom, joining the stream of students now filling the halls.
As they stepped into the open courtyard, Arsy suddenly turned.
"You wanna go to the library?"
Eldrin blinked. "The library? Why?"
"I dunno… I just feel like we'll find something there. About Visflux—or something even bigger." Arsy scratched his head. "Besides, I want to learn more about those strange places."
Eldrin gave a soft smile. "All right then. Let's go."
They walked together toward the large building tucked in the corner of the academy—its walls lined with stories and secrets.
The moment they stepped inside, a familiar scent greeted them: old parchment, aged leather, and faint traces of arcane ink. The crystal lights hanging from the ceiling glowed dimly, casting the room in an atmosphere both calm and mysterious.
Arsy headed straight for the history section, fingers trailing along dusty tomes.
Eldrin followed quietly, watching as his friend scanned the spines one by one—until his hand stopped on an old, black-covered book with gold trim. The title was faded, written in an ancient script.
"Found it..." Arsy muttered.
Mysteries of Astralyth and the Outer World
by Seraphina Vaelthorne
Eldrin raised a brow. "Seraphina Vaelthorne… wasn't she a legendary explorer?"
Arsy turned the book over. On the back cover, a warning had been engraved in official script:
This book contains theories and records of dangerous, uncharted territories.
Recommended for readers aged 15 and above.
He frowned. "We shouldn't be allowed to read this… Why is it even out here on an open shelf?"
Eldrin crossed his arms. "Maybe someone left it here on purpose. Or maybe... something wants to be found."
Arsy shrugged. "I don't really care."
He grinned and opened the book, revealing pages filled with hand-written notes and rough sketches of strange locations. Beneath the title, a faded quote had been inscribed:
Living beings cannot endure the trap of ignorance. Truth is the cure.
Dedicated to those who dare to question the limits of this world.
"Who was Seraphina Vaelthorne, really?" Eldrin asked.
Arsy flipped to the author's biography:
Seraphina Vaelthorne (born approx. Year -490 A.E.)
A Conqueror-ranked explorer, scholar, and legendary author from House Vaelthorne—a family of scholars and adventurers known for their long history of exploring hidden regions of Astralyth. She is most famous for her expeditions into lost Visflux zones and uncharted lands.
Arsy and Eldrin exchanged glances.
There was something about that name—something that felt larger than legend.
"Conqueror-ranked? That's insanely high. What rank would we even be?" Arsy asked.
Eldrin studied the page, deep in thought. "Judging by our abilities? Probably Silver."
Arsy sighed. "You're right. No one reaches the top overnight."
"And not everyone is born strong," Eldrin added, "But some… choose to become strong."
They had just stumbled upon something that could shatter everything they thought they knew.
A truth buried beneath layers of forgotten history.
A truth that, if powerful enough, could unravel the old and sow something new—
Whether it became enlightenment…
Or the beginning of madness.
What has history hidden from them?
Was there something greater beyond the veil?
Something that had always waited in the shadows—ready to be found?
Arsy glanced around the library. It was still quiet—only the soft rustle of pages being turned by students unaware of what had just been discovered.
Even in his curiosity, he was someone who knew when to hold back.
Eldrin, on the other hand, was the type who would always keep going once something had begun.
As they scanned the table of contents, one chapter caught both of their eyes—a line that read more like a threat than a title:
"The Astravian Mountains Are Madness Incarnate."
Their eyes met, and without hesitation, they flipped to the page.
Across the next few pages, a harrowing tale unfolded—of creatures that defied logic. The Astravian Mountains, untouched by humans for millennia, stretched deep across Astralyth's southwestern lands. Its tallest peak soared over 16 kilometers into the sky. People called it Ghaeldrakh.
But in an ancient manuscript discovered by Seraphina and her team, it had another name—
Khazadh'Rhai.
It was said to be the boundary between the physical world and something older than human history. Encased in eternal ice and surrounded by winds that whispered like voices long forgotten, the Astravian Mountains weren't just uninhabitable—they were a cage for things that should not exist.
Trolls. Wendigos. Astravian Titans. Behemoths.
Creatures thought to be mere myths.
And some… had no physical form. Only a presence—felt through the deepest human instinct.
They lurked in the mist, waiting for those foolish enough to wander too far.
According to the text, the Astravian Mountains were classified as a Visflux.
Arsy felt a chill crawl down his spine just from reading. But what disturbed him more was what came next.
It recounted how Seraphina lost three fingers on her left hand and suffered a deep slash across her cheek. Two of her companions died horrific deaths, and their team leader lost all memory after an encounter deep within Mount Ghaeldrakh.
No detailed description of the creature they faced was ever recorded.
Just a rough drawing—blurred, enormous—so distorted that even the ink seemed unable to hold its form.
"So brutal…" Arsy muttered, clenching his fist over the page.
"I can't imagine someone of Conqueror rank being wounded like that. People strong enough to wipe out a continent… reduced to this."
Eldrin was still staring at the drawing, jaw tight.
Something felt off.
If even Seraphina's legendary team barely survived…
What could ordinary people possibly do?
And then came the part that truly seized their attention.
After the battle, Seraphina's team discovered something that should not have existed—an ancient Arcanum, predating modern humanity by ages. It wasn't just an artifact.
It would become the foundation for one of the most important magical tools in the world:
The Map Arcanum.
"So this is where that technology came from…" Eldrin whispered.
Arsy swallowed. His eyes traced the old sketch of the device—a map that shouldn't exist.
As they closed the page, something in the room felt different.
Heavier.
As if the book itself was aware that its secrets had been disturbed.
They looked at each other.
This wasn't just a tale from the past.
It was a puzzle.
Waiting to be solved.
They kept reading—drawn in deeper, breath caught in their chests, fingers curled around the edges of the next page.
It opened with a title that struck their minds like a blade of dread:
Never Enter N'Zoth'Rae.
A Visflux shaped like a bottomless chasm. No clear boundaries—just a darkness that devoured all who approached.
Its width was only a few kilometers.
But its depth…
A nightmare without end.
Arsy's hair stood on end.
The words felt less like a warning… and more like the final testimony of someone who had seen something unspeakable.
Without realizing it, he slammed the book shut.
THWACK.
The sound echoed through the shelves, shattering the silence.
And at that very moment, the academy bell rang—sharp and final, signaling the end of the school day.
The sun had risen high, pouring through the tall windows, but to Arsy…
the light felt paler than usual.
Eldrin raised an eyebrow. "You okay, Arsy?"
Arsy gulped. His jaw clenched for a moment before he exhaled slowly.
"I… feel sick," he whispered.
Eldrin gave him a light pat on the shoulder. "Let's head home."
Arsy nodded. He brushed the dust from the book's cover with his palm, gently returning it to the shelf.
But his hand hesitated—lingering, reluctant to pull away.
Something about the book seemed to pull at him, as though it had its own gravity.
But he resisted, turned away, and followed Eldrin.
Their footsteps echoed louder than usual on the stone floor. The academy halls had grown quiet—most students had already left. Only faint voices drifted from the gardens and scattered classrooms.
As they stepped out of the library, Arsy drew a long breath.
The midday air was colder than it should've been.
The wind whispered through the trees.
"You sure you're okay?" Eldrin asked, glancing sideways.
Arsy shook his head slowly. "I don't know… Maybe I'm just hungry."
Eldrin didn't reply.
He knew Arsy wasn't being honest.
As they walked down the path back toward the village, something felt… off.
Arsy couldn't name it.
But every step felt heavier, like something unseen was watching them from afar.
Eldrin seemed tense too—his eyes flicking occasionally toward the trees that lined the path.
They walked in silence, the only sound their footsteps tapping against the cobblestones.
"…Eldrin," Arsy finally said. "Do you… feel something strange?"
Eldrin nodded faintly, but didn't answer at first.
He slowed his pace, turning to glance behind them.
No one.
Just the empty academy path, bathed in the high sun.
"I don't know what we read back there," he murmured, "but… it feels like something changed."
Arsy swallowed hard.
He felt it too.
Something unsettling had awakened inside him, ever since that page on N'Zoth'Rae.
A vague pressure behind his head.
A whisper without words.
They continued walking, passing fields and homes, until they reached the familiar crossroads where they always parted ways.
"See you tomorrow," Eldrin said quietly.
"Yeah… see you tomorrow."
But as Arsy turned toward his home, a chill ran down his spine.
The wind… had stopped.
The air turned still.
He froze in place.
Slowly, he turned.
Eldrin had stopped too—eyes wide, alert.
Something unseen enveloped them.
Aliquid mutatum est.
Something has changed.