Chapter 115: A Year of Silence
The village healer, a quiet man with steady hands and eyes that had seen far too much, looked up as Ariella and Elara entered, supporting Albert between them. His body was limp, his breaths shallow and irregular.
"We've done everything we could," Ariella said, her voice strained, laying Albert gently on the mat. "Now it's your turn."
Elara nodded. "Please. Do whatever it takes. Watch over him. Heal him. Don't give up—he deserves to live."
The healer kneeled beside Albert, resting two fingers on his neck. His face didn't betray his thoughts, but he gave a firm nod.
They watched for a moment longer, a silent exchange of hope, then turned and left.
Days passed. Then weeks. The land flourished again as if trying to forget the wounds it had borne. Crops grew. Laughter returned. And still, Albert didn't stir.
Months melted away, and soon it had been a year.
Many believed the shadow had been vanquished. Even Ariella and Elara, though still cautious, began to think perhaps the threat had passed. No more nightmares. No more bloodshed.
But something always lingered at the edge of peace—something that felt unfinished.
In the quiet hut near the village's edge, a pair of eyelids finally fluttered open. Albert turned his head slowly, squinting at the unfamiliar thatched ceiling. His body felt stiff, unfamiliar, but he was breathing—he was awake.
"Help... hello?" His voice came out rough, strained. "Anybody here... please, help."
The door creaked open, and a little girl stepped in, sunlight catching in her frizzy braids. She wore a faded dress two sizes too large and beamed at him with delight.
"You're finally awake!" she said, skipping closer. "I'm Janelle. You've been sleeping for over a year now. Glad to see you're not lazy anymore."
Albert blinked. "A... year?" His throat burned as he spoke.
She climbed onto the stool beside his bed, legs dangling. "You don't remember, do you? A year ago, the shadow possessed you. Ariella and Elara saved you. They drove it out, but you still wouldn't wake up. They brought you to my father—he's the village healer. He's been taking care of you ever since."
Albert struggled to sit up, confusion swirling behind his eyes. "I... the shadow..."
Janelle nodded sagely. "Papa told me you weren't lazy, just... hurt on the inside. At first, I was mad at you. I thought you were just sleeping while my Papa did all the work. He even fed you! But now I understand. You were... cursed, or something."
Albert stared at the girl, a weak laugh escaping him. "You've grown... a lot."
"I'm seven now!" she said proudly. "I was six when they brought you in. I've been asking Papa every day why the big brother on the bed wouldn't wake up."
His head dropped back against the pillow. As she chattered, flashes began to surface—moments buried in the fog. Chains. Darkness. The sound of water dripping in a ditch. A cruel laugh that echoed for hours. He winced, his hands clenching the edge of the blanket.
The whisper.
"You'll break, Albert. I'll hollow you out, and you'll thank me for it."
He jerked his head up, heart racing.
Janelle leaned forward, concerned. "Are you okay?"
Before he could answer, footsteps approached the hut. The door creaked again, and the healer stepped in. His weathered face lit up with relief as he rushed to Albert's side, feeling his pulse, inspecting his eyes.
"You've done well to return," he said. "Stay one more night. I'll assess your strength before I let you leave."
Albert gave a faint nod, his eyes flickering to Janelle. "He never gave up, did he?"
"No," she answered with a grin. "He even talked to you like you could hear him."
The healer stepped out again—this time to summon the girls.
Ariella and Elara burst into the room not long after, out of breath but beaming.
"Albert!" Ariella rushed forward, kneeling by his side. "You're awake... you're really here."
"You scared us," Elara added, brushing tears from her cheek. "We thought you'd never come back."
Albert smiled weakly. "I almost didn't. Thank you. Both of you."
"You don't owe us anything," Elara said.
"Just your honesty," Ariella added. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've been trampled by an ox," he rasped. "But I'm alive."
He hesitated, then asked, "Has there been any sign of the shadow? It's been a year... has he returned?"
The girls exchanged a look.
"Nothing," Ariella said carefully. "No disappearances. No strange weather. The river's been calm. It's like... he vanished."
"I don't think he's gone," Albert said slowly, fingers trembling. "He's just quiet. Waiting. I can feel it."
Elara nodded. "We've wondered too. We don't think he gave up... just biding his time."
Albert let out a slow breath. "Then I'll be ready. Next time... I won't be that weak."
"Don't think about that yet," Ariella said softly. "You just woke up. You're safe now. Rest."
The girls stayed with him until the sky darkened and the healer returned. Janelle handed Albert a bowl of soup with a proud smile.
"I helped cook it," she whispered.
Later that night, the healer insisted they all rest. Elara and Ariella left reluctantly, promising to return the next day.
Albert lay alone in the dim room, the fire's glow flickering across the ceiling. His muscles ached, his head throbbed... but something else pulled at him.
As he drifted to sleep, the warmth of the room seemed to thin. A sudden cold slithered along his spine.
Then came the whisper.
"You can't run from me, Albert. They may have freed you... but I still live. I always will."
His eyes snapped open, sweat beading on his forehead. But the room was empty. Just crackling wood and Janelle's soft breathing from the next room.
The next morning, the healer pronounced Albert strong enough to stand. He helped him outside into the sun for the first time in a year.
By afternoon, word had spread across the village, and a quiet celebration began—nothing grand, just shared food, grateful hugs, and warm tears. A welcome back from people who had nearly lost hope.
As the sun set, Janelle clung to Albert's side. "You're part of the village now," she said with certainty. "So you better not disappear again."
Albert smiled, one hand ruffling her curls.
"I won't. Not this time."