By mid-afternoon, Jay and Kaela reached the edge of a small village — or what was left of one.
Thatched roofs sagged. Wooden carts were overturned, and dust coated everything in a muted gray. But the strangest thing was happening
No sound. Not a child's cry. Not a bird. Not even wind passed by here
Jay instinctively took a breath to say something, but Kaela held up a hand. He stopped almost instantly.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "They're afraid. Of the silence."
Jay's brow furrowed. "Of what?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she strode forward, and he followed.
The villagers slowly emerged from hiding, eyes sunken and wary.
Children of different ages peeked behind legs, clutching dolls with stitched mouths,There was no playing or games for them.
Adults stared at Jay like he was some glowing relic from a forgotten age.
A hunched man stepped forward. His clothes were frayed, but his eyes sparkled with desperate hope. "You… you're the one, aren't you? The Phoenix."
Jay blinked. "Uh, yeah, that's me. But how do you—?"
"Goddess Lumina sent word," the man said. "A Voice has returned. Please… help us. The Veilhounds took our sound three moons ago. We can't sing. Can't speak. They'll come again tonight."
Kaela turned to Jay. "Your chance. Are you ready to use it?"
He swallowed. "What, like… sing at monsters?"
She gave a slow nod. "If your voice truly holds magic, then this is where it starts. You revive this village — or we leave them to the dark."
Jay stared at the scared faces, then to Kaela's calm, silver eye.
"...Alright," he said softly. "Let's turn up the volume tonight."
Night fell.
And with it, the silence deepened. It wasn't just quiet — it was unnatural, like sound itself had been wrung from the air.
Jay stood in the village square, heart thumping, a crowd of scared villagers behind him. Kaela sat perched on a rooftop, swords glinting in moonlight, watching like a hawk.
"They always come after moonrise," whispered the village elder, shaking. "From the forest… you'll feel them before you see them."
He was right.
Suddenly, the air twisted. A pressure slammed down, like the world had sucked in a breath and refused to let it go.
And then they came.
Crawling out of the trees — tall, black, wolf-like shadows with long, veil-covered faces. They moved like smoke but snarled like beasts, their forms flickering between reality and nightmare.
Veilhounds.
Born of cursed echoes. Eaters of sound.
One screeched — but there was no sound. Just a ripple of air that made Jay's teeth ache.
Kaela's voice rang sharp from above: "Jay. Now.
He stepped forward, palms sweaty. "Okay… okay... focus. You're a rockstar. You've done this a million times."
But his voice cracked. Fear gripped his throat.
The Veilhounds began circling.
Villagers cowered.
And then—Jay sang to his heart's content
Not loud. Not perfect. Just a note. A hum, the kind that swells from deep in your soul.
It trembled through the air like a heartbeat.
The lead Veilhound reared back as if burned. Jay's voice glowed — a shimmering gold mist curling from his lips.
He opened up — now singing from his chest, his truth. A melody from his old world.
Something raw. Something human.
And magic answered to his call like bees to honey,
Golden sigils spiraled around him, notes fluttering like fireflies.
Sound exploded through the square — wind, crackling leaves, the villagers gasping at the view they witnessed.
The Veilhounds screamed — this time audibly— writhing in pain. One lunged.
Kaela dropped in front of Jay, blade slicing in a flash of silver. "Keep singing!" she barked.
Jay closed his eyes and roared the chorus. Music aura waves blasted from his chest like shockwaves, slamming into the remaining monsters.
They dissolved — their bodies unraveling in light.
The silence brokeand the village had wept to this day in cold hearted silence but they rejoiced at this moment .
Jay fell to his knees, chest heaving. He looked up at Kaela, who stood over him, unreadable behind her mask.
"…That was insane," he panted.
She extended a hand.
"You're late to rehearsal, Rockstar."
Jay gripped Kaela's hand, the warmth surprising after the adrenaline-fueled fight. His chest still thrummed with the aftershock of the song—an echo of something ancient stirring within him.
Around them, villagers began emerging from their hiding spots, faces pale but filled with awe. A few whispered, "Music… magic…"
Kaela's silver eye caught Jay's gaze, sharp but not unkind. "This world's been starving for a voice like yours. Not just noise — music. Real magic."
Jay swallowed hard. His head spun with the weight of it all. "So, my voice… it's a weapon?"
Kaela nodded. "And a key. But it's fragile — like a blade you don't fully control yet. Every note you sing can heal or destroy."
She stepped closer, lowering her hood just enough to reveal a sharp scar trailing from her jawline down her neck. "I'm not here to babysit you, but to keep you alive long enough to learn."
Jay smirked. "Sounds like a shitty bandmate."
She shot him a rare smirk back. "Don't get cocky."
The elder chief approached, eyes glistening. "You gave us hope tonight, young one. We've lived in silence so long… Your music brought the sun back."
Jay looked up at the starry sky. For the first time since arriving, a flicker of purpose sparked in his chest.
"Alright," he said, voice steady. "Let's bring the world back to life. One song at a time."
Kaela's eyes gleamed with something almost like respect.
As the village settled, Jay hummed softly — a low, promising tune — and the forest around them seemed to lean in, listening.
The next day, they started their quest and gave their goodbyes to the villagers and refused to take anything but were forced to take food supplies as insisted by the chief.
The sun hung low behind jagged mountain peaks, casting long shadows over the winding dirt path that Jay and Kaela trudged along.
The air was crisp, laced with the scent of pine and ancient stone. Jay, still adjusting to his new body—a younger, leaner version of himself without tattoos or the scars of his old life—walked barefoot, the cool earth grounding him.
Beside him, Kaela moved with effortless grace, her hood pulled low and one silver eye gleaming beneath the shadow.
"Dragons," Jay muttered, breaking the silence. "I never thought I'd be chasing dragons on some weird fantasy quest."
Kaela glanced sideways but said nothing.
"Look, I get it," Jay continued, voice low but tinged with sarcasm. "Music magic, silent world, goddesses assigning quests… But seriously? Dragons? What's next? Giant mechas?"
Kaela smirked beneath her hood, the corner of her mouth twitching with amusement. "You'll find this world is far stranger than your old stage."
Jay sighed, gazing at the craggy horizon. "Yeah, well, if I'm gonna be some kind of musical savior, I might as well start by not getting eaten."
They reached a small village nestled at the mountain's foothills. Weather-worn cottages huddled together, smoke curling from stone chimneys.
Villagers stopped their work to watch the pair—an unfamiliar duo walking purposefully into a land where music was a forgotten art.
An elderly woman, her face lined with worry and age, stepped forward. "Travelers… You must be the ones sent by the Goddess Lumina."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know?"
She nodded toward Kaela. "The girl you walk with, she carries the mark of the protector. But beware—the dragon's fury grows. It consumes sound and life alike. The Silent World isn't just missing music—it's losing itself."
Jay felt a cold chill despite the afternoon sun. "Consumes sound?"
"Yes. The dragon's presence silences all—animals stop their songs, rivers seem to hold their breath. It's like a living void."
Kaela's single eye flickered with something like concern, but her voice was steady. "The dragon's magic is tied to this silence. If it's not stopped, the world will fall into complete quiet."
Jay swallowed hard. The weight of his mission settled deeper than ever.
He looked down at his hands, still unfamiliar in this new form, and hesitantly hummed a note. The sound felt strange, electric, alive
Kaela's gaze sharpened. "That's your voice. Your power. Music is magic here."
Jay's lips curled into a small, reluctant smile. "Guess I'm not completely useless yet."
The villagers offered what little aid they could—food, water, stories. But the fear in their eyes was unmistakable. The mountain called with a haunting silence, and Jay's resolve hardened.
As they left the village behind, the wind carried a faint echo—a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through the trees.
Jay tightened his fists, whispering to himself, "Alright… let's see what you've got, dragon."