The rain had stopped by morning, but the village still smelled of wet earth and smoke from the cookfires.
Kael stood near the well, pretending to draw water, but his eyes followed the messenger across the square. The man was speaking with the elder in hushed tones, his hand occasionally brushing against the spot under his cloak — where Kael had seen the glow.
"You're staring," Liora said from behind him.
Kael nearly dropped the bucket. "I'm not."
"You are," she said, grinning as she hopped onto the well's stone edge. "You look like a jealous lover."
Kael shot her a look. "What does that even mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like." She leaned in, lowering her voice. "What is it with you and him anyway? You've been acting weird since he showed up."
Kael hesitated. He could tell her about the mark. About the pulse. About the dreams.
But then he imagined the way her face might change — the way she might look at him like everyone else would if they knew.
"It's nothing," he said finally.
Liora raised a brow. "You're a terrible liar."
Before Kael could answer, the messenger moved toward the stables. His horse was already saddled, as if he meant to leave before noon.
Kael made his choice.
He followed.
Not openly — he stuck to the alleys and the lines of low fences, moving like he had learned from years of sneaking into the kitchens for food. The messenger led the horse out of the stable, checked the straps, then started toward the road out of the village.
"Going somewhere?"
The words slipped out before Kael could stop himself.
The messenger stopped and turned, his eyes narrowing. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
"You have the mark," the man said finally, voice low.
Kael's stomach dropped. "You… saw it?"
"I felt it." The messenger took a step closer. "Who are your parents?"
Kael's hand tightened into a fist. "They're dead."
"Then where did you get it?"
"I don't know," Kael snapped — louder than he meant to.
The messenger studied him, then reached under his cloak and drew back the fabric. His mark glowed faintly in the morning light, not red like Kael's, but pale silver.
"They'll come for you," he said quietly. "If they haven't already."
"Who?"
The messenger glanced toward the treeline, then back at Kael. "The ones who made your sect disappear."
Kael froze.
"You know about them?"
The messenger didn't answer. He swung into the saddle.
"Wait!" Kael said. "Tell me more."
"You're not ready." The messenger's gaze softened for the first time. "But soon, boy. Very soon."
And with that, he rode off down the road, leaving Kael standing in the mud, heart hammering.
Liora found him still staring at the empty road minutes later.
"Well?" she asked. "Did you get whatever answer you were looking for?"
Kael swallowed hard. "No," he said quietly. "But I think I just got my first question."