Scene 129 — "That's Him?"
The journey back felt shorter.
Mostly because none of them were walking alone.
The three siblings followed the winding paths through the hidden world.
Crystal trees drifted past overhead.
Silver rivers glowed softly in the distance.
The younger girl led the way.
Her brother carried the lantern.
The elder sister walked beside him.
Neither spoke much.
Not because there was nothing to say.
Because they were both still trying to understand how a human had appeared in the silver fields.
Eventually—
the flowers came into view.
Endless silver stretching beneath the pale glow of the hidden world.
The younger girl pointed ahead.
"There."
The brother followed her gaze.
A figure lay among the flowers.
Motionless.
Silent.
Exactly where the girl had left him.
The three siblings approached carefully.
Step by step.
The traveler remained unconscious.
White hair rested against flattened silver petals.
The hood still concealed much of his face.
Dried blood stained parts of his clothing.
The elder sister immediately crouched beside him.
Studying the injuries.
The brother remained standing.
Watching.
Waiting.
For several moments nobody spoke.
Then—
"...That's him?"
The younger girl folded her arms.
"That's him."
The brother stared.
Again.
Then once more.
The figure looked ordinary.
Not threatening.
Not impressive.
Just wounded.
Very wounded.
The brother scratched his head.
"This is the impossible stranger?"
The younger girl pointed directly at the wound.
"Look."
The brother crouched.
His expression changed immediately.
The injury was even worse than he expected.
The dried blood alone told a story.
A terrible one.
The brother frowned.
Slowly.
"This should have killed him."
The younger girl immediately nodded.
"Exactly."
The elder sister remained silent.
Examining the wound more carefully.
Her attention sharpened.
Something about it bothered her.
Not because it looked strange.
Because it looked real.
Too real.
This wasn't an illness.
Wasn't an accident.
Someone—or something—had done this.
Violently.
The brother looked toward the unconscious stranger.
Then toward the endless silver fields.
Then back again.
"...How far did he travel like this?"
Nobody had an answer.
The younger girl looked down at the white-haired traveler.
Still breathing.
Still unconscious.
Still somehow alive.
The brother sighed.
Then reached down.
Grabbing one of the traveler's arms.
"Let's see what you meant by heavy."
He pulled.
Nothing happened.
The traveler barely moved.
The brother blinked.
Pulled harder.
The traveler shifted slightly across the flowers.
Only slightly.
The brother stared.
The younger girl immediately crossed her arms.
"I told you."
The brother ignored her.
Tried again.
This time using both hands.
The result remained disappointing.
The elder sister looked up.
"...Well?"
The brother frowned.
"Heavier than he looks."
The younger girl pointed triumphantly.
"I told you."
The brother groaned.
The elder sister sighed.
The traveler continued sleeping.
Completely unaware that an argument was happening around him.
The silver flowers swayed gently.
The crystal forests whispered in the distance.
Everything appeared peaceful.
Normal.
Yet the elder sister continued watching the stranger.
Thinking.
Something felt unusual.
Not dangerous.
Not supernatural.
Just unusual.
As though an important piece of information was missing.
The younger girl suddenly crouched beside the traveler.
Looking at the shadow beneath his hood.
The same curiosity returned.
Who was he?
What did he look like?
Where had he come from?
Questions.
Always questions.
Never answers.
The traveler remained silent.
Lost somewhere beyond consciousness.
The elder sister finally stood.
"We can't leave him here."
The brother nodded.
For once, there was no argument.
The younger girl looked relieved.
Good.
Someone else could deal with the impossible stranger now.
The brother rolled his shoulders.
Preparing himself.
Then crouched beside the traveler again.
"Alright."
He grabbed the unconscious man's arm.
"Let's get you home."
Far above them—
unseen by the siblings—
something moved between the crystal trees.
Watching.
Quietly.
Patiently.
And for reasons unknown—
its attention never left the unconscious traveler.