Kealan stood at a distance, watching in silence. He didn't want to intervene.
The shopkeeper turned coldly toward the woman still clinging to Sylra.
"Let them go," he snapped. "Your son will never come back. He's dead."
The words struck the air like a blade. Sylra's eyes darkened. He slowly turned to the shopkeeper, his gaze like a piercing wind through still silence. The shopkeeper faltered, taking a nervous step back.
Sylra's eyes dropped to the woman's neck — a shattered pendant hung there, its chain half-snapped, dangling like a memory frayed with time. He reached out gently, his fingers glowing faintly with a soft musical hum. A small piece of magic restored the pendant, its pieces weaving back together as if her son's memory had been momentarily rewound.
"Your son would want you to stay strong... until he returns," Sylra said softly, tying the pendant securely. "Maybe... he's still watching you. From afar."
A lie. But not a cruel one — just a survival.
The woman's sobs lessened. Her grip loosened slightly. But Sylra, as he looked at her trembling face, knew the truth. His chest tightened. He held the guilt back behind a calm face, even as the truth itched at his throat. The lie burned, but he bore it.
Then, the guards approached again, prepared to pull her away. But Felix stepped forward. Calmly. Firmly. He knelt down before her, eyes sharp but warm, and said in a voice low and commanding:
"I've seen men lost... and return. The jungle doesn't always keep what it takes."
The guards stopped in their tracks — as if some unseen pressure pinned them in place.
Sylra stepped back and added, "On my journey... I'll ask about your son. Everywhere. In every place."
The woman stared at them, her eyes still clouded with uncertainty. Her hands shook.
Felix leaned in closer, gently wiping a tear from her cheek.
"Stop crying, mother," he whispered.
"Don't worry... your two sons will help you."
Kealan walked forward from behind and added with a soft grin, "Make that three."
Felix blinked, then smiled and said, "Three sons... who'll try to find your fourth. You don't have to worry."
A village elder approached slowly, calling to the woman in a trembling voice.
"Come now, child. Let them go."
The woman hesitated, then stood slowly, stepping toward the elder. He placed an arm gently around her shoulders. He bowed his head toward the group and murmured:
"I apologize for her, kind gentlemen. She's... not well. But she means no harm."
Kealan offered a respectful nod. "There's no need to apologize. You don't need formality with us."
As the woman and elder walked away, Felix approached the shopkeeper.
"Who was that elder?"
The shopkeeper scratched the back of his neck. "Her father. Poor man. He's all she has left. Works himself to the bone just to care for her. She can't do much herself anymore."
Felix's expression dimmed. "And you said... her son was killed by slavers?"
The shopkeeper nodded. "A year ago. He tried to help his friends escape, but the slavers caught wind of it. Turned his life into a nightmare. Tortured him. Killed him."
Felix narrowed his eyes. "And how do you know all that?"
The man blinked. "I… I don't. I only repeated what someone else told me. A traveler. He found the body."
Felix's lips curled into a faint smile.
"The same one who told the story… is the one who found the body, huh?"
The shopkeeper stared. "How... how did you know?"
Felix's smile deepened. "Let's call it coincidence. Does this man live in the village?"
"No, no. He went to the Capital. Said something about a competition next week. He gone to Check his inn — the one with the sun symbol."
Felix tilted his head. "Sun symbol?"
The shopkeeper nodded and scribbled something on a worn scrap of paper. "He's a wealthy guy. Lives in peace, says he prefers quiet villages." " I once visited his.. place when i was in capital it was quite welcoming."
He handed the script to Felix. A faded sun symbol was drawn on it.
"I can't read, but that's the sign on his inn. You'll know it when you see it."
Felix took it and nodded. "Thank you."
He headed toward the village gate where a small crowd had gathered to watch them leave. The woman from before stood there, quietly waiting. Felix bowed low before her.
"May we have your blessing to go?"
She gently patted his head with trembling hands. A smile touched her lips.
Only Kealan stood beside him now. Sylra was nowhere in sight.
Felix understood. He needed time alone.
Felix boarded the carriage. As it started rolling, he glanced to the side and finally spotted Sylra — standing near the edge of the trees, half-hidden, his shoulders shaking.
Tears streamed down his face. He wasn't holding them back anymore.
Felix climbed out, walked quietly to him, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"The lie was necessary," he said softly. "Don't worry. Things will get better. You're not evil, Sylra. Be proud. You had the courage to say what mattered."
Sylra didn't speak, but his breathing slowed. The shaking stopped.
Felix continued, "Yeah, I know. Sometimes it hits too close for you to ignore... but don't let the guilt eat you. You can't carry it all."
They returned to the carriage. But the woman saw him and cried out, 'Son! Have a safe journey!'
Sylra turned his head , smiled .
and resumed the journey. The wilderness unfolded around them once again.
Later That Day — Noon.
They entered the Fog Forest. Just as Sylra described, it looked like a thin, white sheet draped across the world. Inside, the trees stood like tall shadows, blurred by the mist. It felt like a fairytale. Then came an eerie stillness settled over them — thick, suffocating, unnatural. Then came the sound: a lone caw from somewhere above. A crow, black as shadow, circled once through the mist before vanishing into the trees. The call echoed, sharp and hollow, like a warning carved into the air.
Felix stared outside.
A moment later, he blinked. A soldier who had been riding beside their carriage... was gone.
"Hey," he asked Sylra. "Wasn't there a guard just outside?"
Sylra looked at him calmly. "No. There wasn't."
Felix frowned. He turned to the front of the carriage. Nothing. No guards. No other carriages.8
"Are we lost? Where's everyone else?"
Sylra turned again, smiling faintly. "We're alone, Felix. Just the two of us. On a journey. Are you half-asleep?"
Something was off.
Felix's heart began to race. He turned to the coachman.
"How much farther?"
No response.
"Hey... I said—"
He leaned forward, looked up — and froze.
There was no one holding the reins. The horses moved on their own, dragging the carriage into deeper fog.
Felix's breath caught.
He turned back to Sylra.
Sylra's head rolled off his shoulders and fell to the floorboards with a thud.
His severed head opened its mouth... and whispered:
"It was all your fault."