The villagers dispersed slowly after the morning dance, their smiles as calm as ever—yet weaker around the edges, as if exhaustion gnawed at something beneath their skin.
Ray noticed it first.
"They were relieved when the dance ended."
Corvin murmured back, "Or relieved that we watched."
Zelene kept her gaze forward, heart heavy with questions.
The faint glow from earlier still lingered in her mind like a phantom touch.
Finn clung a little too close to her cloak.
"Can we… go back to our room now? This place is making the hair on my arms do gymnastics."
Zelene nodded.
And the villagers—almost too quickly—stepped aside to let them leave.
---
A young woman from the village escorted them through the winding tunnels.
Her smile was soft, reverent almost, like she was guiding honored guests.
Or… like she was keeping them on a safe path.
Zelene couldn't tell which.
"Your dances are beautiful," she said gently.
The woman bowed her head.
"They keep our hearts steady. The mountain listens to rhythm."
Ray's eyes narrowed. "The mountain?"
"Of course." The woman didn't look back.
"It is alive, in its own way."
Corvin exchanged a glance with Zelene.
Finn whispered,
"Alive? Like… alive alive? Or, like, spiritual metaphor alive?"
Zelene elbowed him softly—not to silence him, but to help him breathe.
He tended to panic in loops.
When they reached the guest chamber, the woman bowed deeply.
"May your rest be peaceful. We will prepare supper soon."
"Thank you," Zelene replied.
The woman stepped back into the shadows.
And vanished faster than footsteps should allow.
Ray watched the darkness she'd disappeared into.
"…She didn't wait to see if we went in."
"Which means she didn't need to," Corvin murmured.
Zelene pushed open the wooden door.
---
The chamber was exactly as they left it—
soft furs on the floor, blankets neatly arranged, lanterns giving off that faint blue-tinted flame.
Finn groaned as he stepped in.
"One room. One room. One room."
Ray dropped his pack with a sigh.
"We'll manage."
Corvin looked awkwardly to Zelene.
"Are you sure you're comfortable sharing a room? We can ask—"
"It's fine," Zelene said quickly.
She didn't want to draw attention.
Didn't want the village to think they were vulnerable.
"It's just sleeping," she added softly. "And I trust you."
Ray froze slightly at that, then turned away as if something in the air had flinched.
Finn, relieved, flopped to one corner.
"See? We're all morally upright people. And we'll sleep far apart. And no one breathes loudly."
"You breathe like a drowning walrus," Ray muttered.
"I DO NOT—!"
"Both of you," Zelene sighed, but she was smiling.
For a brief moment, they felt like travelers again—not intruders in a secretive village.
---
They began inspecting the chamber more carefully now that they were alone.
Corvin checked for pressure points on the stone floor.
Ray tested the seams of the doorframe.
Zelene walked the perimeter with a lantern, noting how smooth the walls were. Too smooth.
Finn—of course—was the first to get bored.
He dragged his pack across the floor to a "perfect spot" he found, muttering,
"I just want this over with so I can nap before something spooky happens—"
Thud.
The moment his bag hit the wall, a dull, hollow sound answered.
Different.
Wrong.
Not stone.
"Uh…" Finn froze. "Guys?"
Corvin looked up.
Ray straightened.
Zelene felt a chill slide down her spine.
Finn pressed his palm against the wall again—
Thud. Thud.
Definitely hollow.
Before Zelene could stop him,
Finn—out of pure instinct and unfortunate curiosity—
leaned harder against it.
Click—
The wall shifted.
A faint tremor rippled through the stone.
Then—
A seam appeared.
A line.
A door.
Hidden perfectly in the rock until now.
Zelene's heartbeat stuttered.
Ray reached for his sword.
Corvin pulled her back instinctively.
Finn whispered, hands trembling,
"Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. I didn't mean to do that—"
Zelene stepped closer, eyes locked on the dark gap forming in the wall.
The stone parted just enough to reveal a narrow, pitch-black passage.
Cold air drifted out.
Not musty.
Not stale.
Cold.
Like something deep inside was breathing.
Zelene felt the faintest echo—
a whisper without sound.
A warning.
Or a plea.
Not here.
Not like this.
She swallowed hard.
Ray moved to stand in front of her.
"Zelene. Step back."
But she didn't.
Because she felt it—
the same presence as before.
Gentle.
Distant.
Watching.
Zelene whispered, barely audible,
"We found… something."
Corvin whispered back,
"Or something found us."
And behind the wall,
from the darkness of the hidden passage,
a soft, pulsing light flickered once—
blue.
Soft as breath.
Gone in an instant.
But it was enough.
They weren't alone.
Not anymore.