Zelene woke not to sunlight, but to the gentle hum of stone.
A faint vibration—like distant singing—rippled through the cavern walls. It was soft enough to question whether it was real, but steady enough that she knew she hadn't imagined it.
She rose slowly.
Corvin was already awake, sitting against the wall sharpening his blade with careful strokes. Ray sat near the doorway, arms crossed, posture relaxed but eyes not. Finn was still asleep, sprawled like a starfish with one leg over a pile of blankets.
Ray looked at her as she stirred.
"Morning."
Zelene nodded. "Is it?"
Ray's lips twitched. "Technically."
Corvin lifted his gaze.
"No disturbances. No one came near our room."
"That you heard," Zelene murmured.
He paused.
"…Yes. That I heard."
Finn finally woke with a loud yawn that echoed embarrassingly around the chamber.
Zelene stifled a laugh.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Then footsteps approached—soft, measured, careful.
The same elder woman from the night before appeared in the doorway, carrying a wooden tray with warm flatbread, a bowl of berries, and cups of steaming root tea.
"Breakfast," she said kindly. "Eat, replenish yourselves."
Zelene smiled politely.
"Thank you."
But she noticed it—again.
The woman's eyes.
Warm. Kind. Soft.
And yet empty.
Not hollow. Just… absent. Like light shining through glass that wasn't fully there.
Ray's polite nod didn't reach his shoulders.
Corvin's didn't reach his jaw.
Finn reached for the bread enthusiastically—
and Zelene smacked his hand with lightning speed.
"Ow—okay! Sorry!"
"We'll eat after a bit," Zelene told the woman, forcing a smile.
The elder's smile didn't change at all.
Not even a twitch.
"I will prepare a guide if you wish to explore the caverns today," she said. "The mountain's paths are winding. It is easy for travelers to lose their way."
Ray inclined his head. "That's very generous."
"Of course," she answered. "We take care of those who pass through."
A strange sentence.
Zelene filed it away.
The elder left with her gentle, flowing steps.
When she was gone, Finn whispered loudly,
"Okay but the bread smells AMAZING—"
"No," Zelene, Ray, and Corvin said together.
Finn made a noise of betrayal.
---
Exploring the Cavern Village
The group walked out into the main cavern, greeted by the warm glow of dozens of lanterns. People were active now—tending fires, weaving cloth, working leather, organizing tools.
Everyone smiled.
Everyone stepped aside for them.
Everyone avoided looking directly into their eyes.
Zelene's stomach tightened.
"They're warm," she whispered to Ray.
"But not… present."
Ray nodded once.
"They are acting the way people act when they're afraid to make a mistake."
That thought chilled her.
Corvin touched a hand to the cavern wall.
"These pathways… they're shaped too neatly. They weren't carved by tools. They were shaped by something else."
Zelene stared at the smooth inner ridges—almost like ripples.
"Sound," she whispered. "Or… resonance."
Ray's eyes flicked toward her.
"You think the Cerulean—"
"I don't know," Zelene interrupted softly.
"And that's what scares me."
A group of children ran past them, laughing.
Their laughter echoed strangely—like two voices overlapping.
Zelene frowned.
"Did you hear—"
"Yes," Ray said immediately.
Finn shivered. "Guys… please don't say ghosts again."
Corvin exhaled slowly, then nodded toward a wide opening deeper in the cavern.
"That looks like the central hall."
Before they could approach it, a young villager hurried over with a bright smile.
"Are you looking for something? Perhaps I can help."
Corvin answered carefully.
"We were hoping to see more of the caverns."
"Of course!" the young man said cheerfully. "But first, the morning dances begin soon. You should watch. They are… important."
Important?
Why were they important?
Zelene's brows knitted.
"We wouldn't want to interrupt."
"Oh, you wouldn't," the villager assured.
"Everyone will be watching."
Everyone?
Then why did his smile tremble around the edges?
Ray caught Zelene's glance.
Corvin stepped subtly closer.
Finn whispered, "This is getting creepy…"
Zelene couldn't disagree.
---
The villagers gathered around the central fire in a wide ring. Drums began to thrum softly—slow, deliberate, rhythmic.
The same pattern as the children the night before.
The same, exact pattern.
Men and women stepped into the circle, swaying with graceful, synchronized movements.
Not joyous.
Not celebratory.
Almost… ritualistic.
Ray leaned in.
"They're performing."
Corvin added, "For someone."
Zelene whispered, "Or something."
Finn's eyes widened.
"You mean like a monster—"
Ray put a hand over his mouth.
The drums deepened.
A faint hum filled the cavern.
Zelene felt the vibration in her ribs.
Then—
At the far side of the cavern—
A flicker.
A pulse of soft blue light.
Barely there.
Like a breath of color.
Zelene froze.
Corvin stiffened.
Ray's hand went to his sword, but he didn't draw it.
Finn whispered, trembling,
"Uh… guys… that's the ghost demon, right?"
Zelene barely heard him.
Because the light pulsed again—
gentle, slow, almost hesitant.
And though it didn't move closer,
she felt something reach out—
A presence. A thought. A whisper.
You should not be here.
Not yet.
Zelene's breath caught.
The villagers continued dancing as if nothing had happened.
As if they hadn't seen it.
As if they never would.
Zelene squeezed Corvin's sleeve.
"Did you—"
"Yes," he said under his breath.
Ray murmured, "We're being watched. But not by them."
Finn squeaked softly.
And Zelene, staring at where the blue glow had faded, whispered so quietly only the stone could hear:
"Cerulean…?"