The morning mist clung to the ridges of the mountains like a living veil, each fold of white revealing and concealing the world beyond. Kael tightened the straps of his pack as he followed Vox along a narrow stone path carved into the cliffside. The silence of the journey was broken only by the crunch of boots on gravel and the occasional cry of distant birds.
Below them stretched a vast valley — sprawling forests, rivers glinting like shards of glass, ruins of long-forgotten watchtowers half-consumed by vines. The world felt endless, dangerous, and alive. Kael's chest swelled at the sight, but he said nothing. Vox's presence beside him was grounding — heavy, like a shadow that demanded stillness.
"Do you feel it?" Vox finally asked, his voice low, almost swallowed by the wind.
Kael frowned. "Feel what?"
"The silence." Vox stopped, turning to face the valley. "Not emptiness. Not absence. A presence that waits. Silence can be more terrifying than a scream if you know how to use it. Today, you'll learn that."
Kael's hand unconsciously brushed the hilt of his blade. He didn't fully understand Vox's words, but he could feel the weight in them, like a truth pressing against his chest.
⸻
They descended into the valley, where the ruins grew thicker. Crumbled stone arches loomed like broken teeth, the remains of a civilization buried in time. Moss had devoured inscriptions, and only fragments of statues remained — eyeless guardians staring blindly at the sky.
At midday, they reached a village nestled near the treeline. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, but the streets were too quiet. Kael caught the wary eyes of villagers peeking from behind shuttered windows.
A woman approached them, her hands clutching the edge of her shawl. "Strangers shouldn't linger here," she whispered. "The nights… they've changed. People vanish. Whole families."
Vox's gaze sharpened, unreadable. "When?"
"Last week. Then again two nights ago. No sound, no struggle. Just… gone."
Kael felt a chill trace his spine. Silence. Again.
Vox only nodded. "Thank you." He placed a hand lightly on Kael's shoulder, guiding him back toward the path. "Stay alert. The air here is not empty — it listens."
⸻
That night, they camped near the ruins of an old temple, its collapsed roof open to the stars. Kael sat by the fire, restless, while Vox meditated in the shadows, eyes closed, perfectly still. The flames cracked, but beyond the circle of light, the forest seemed unnaturally hushed.
Then it came — a flicker of movement at the treeline. Kael's breath caught. Figures, barely visible, shifting between the trees. Cloaked, silent. Watching.
"Vox…" Kael whispered, reaching for his weapon.
"I know." Vox's eyes opened, reflecting the firelight like shards of obsidian. His voice carried a calm finality. "Do not act rashly. They want you to break the silence first. Let them wonder. Let them fear what waits in you."
Kael swallowed hard, his heartbeat thundering. The figures didn't advance, but he could feel their eyes, their presence pressing on him like a hand against his throat. For a moment, one of them stepped into the moonlight — just enough to reveal a mask carved from bone, cracked down the center. The air around him seemed to ripple faintly, as though the world bent to his presence.
And then — nothing. The figure melted back into the trees. The others followed, as though they had never been there at all. Only the silence remained, heavier now, oppressive.
Kael's grip on his blade trembled. "Who… who were they?"
Vox stared into the dark where the figures had vanished, his face unreadable. "The kind of enemy you do not chase. The kind that chooses when to reveal itself." He rose slowly, pulling his cloak tighter. "This is no longer training, Kael. This is the abyss staring back."
The fire sputtered. The ruins seemed to groan in the night wind. Kael's chest tightened as he realized: this was his first true mission. And the silence around them was no longer just a lesson. It was a battlefield.