They arrived at dusk.
The sky was lavender, streaked with fading sun and the ghost of clouds that hadn't yet decided to rain. The wind had grown still—not gentle, not warm, just absent—as if the land had forgotten how to breathe.
Ahead of them lay the quiet remnants of a once-prosperous place: Eldrath Hollow.
A village once known for its bell tower and salt traders.
But there were no bells anymore.
No voices.
Only silence.
Frido stepped across the threshold of the broken gate, and the others followed.
No birds.
No smoke.
Only doors hanging on one hinge and weeds cracking through old stone paths.
Mirea's skin crawled.
Teren muttered, "This place isn't abandoned. Just waiting."
Frido stopped and pointed.
There, at the far end of the village square, a girl stood.
Alone.
---
The Child Who Waited
She couldn't have been older than seven.
Her dress was too thin for the wind. Her feet were bare. Hair tangled, face unreadable.
But what struck Mirea most was not the girl's loneliness.
It was the fact that she was standing beneath the bell tower.
And there was no bell above her.
Just an empty hook.
The girl spoke without moving her mouth.
"You brought the stone."
Teren's hand went to his sword. "Frido…"
But Frido stepped forward. "Yes."
"Then the song must be played."
Mirea's heart skipped. "What song?"
"The one that wakes the world."
The girl blinked once.
And vanished.
---
The Song of Bells
Later, in one of the least ruined homes, they found shelter.
It was dry. That was enough.
Frido held the stone in both hands, feeling its pulse.
Mirea watched him closely. There was something different about his posture—like he was no longer waiting for fate but walking directly toward it.
"What did she mean?" she asked softly. "That girl?"
Frido didn't answer at first.
Then: "When I touched the stone back in Halver's Hollow… it showed me something."
Mirea's breath caught. "What did it show you?"
Frido looked at her.
"You."
She stiffened. "Me?"
"You were standing in a sea of bells. All silent. But crying like you could hear them all."
Mirea said nothing.
Frido reached into his pack and pulled out something wrapped in cloth.
He unfolded it.
A bell.
Cracked.
Teren narrowed his eyes. "Where did that come from?"
"I don't know," Frido said. "But it was in my bag when we left the Hollow."
---
The Library Beneath the Ashes
The next morning, they found the library.
Half-buried beneath vines and soot, it leaned into the earth like a drunkard begging to be swallowed. But Teren cleared the doorway, and together, they entered.
The inside was black with ash.
Not fire. Not decay.
Ash.
As if words themselves had burned.
But one book remained intact.
Bound in pale leather, unmarked.
Frido opened it.
Inside were maps of constellations. Descriptions of ruins.
And on the final page: a prophecy.
Written in three parts:
---
"The Silent One shall carry the stone.
The Bell Maiden shall walk behind.
And when the last name is spoken aloud,
The war will end. Or the world will."
---
Teren exhaled. "That's you. And Mirea."
Frido closed the book slowly. "What does it mean, 'the last name'?"
No one answered.
But Mirea's thoughts screamed.
Frido.
She didn't say it.
She wouldn't.
Not yet.
---
A Memory Revealed
That night, Mirea couldn't sleep.
She sat outside the ruined library, watching the stars. One blinked out.
And then Frido sat beside her.
They said nothing for a while.
Then he asked, "Why did you follow me?"
Mirea's breath hitched. "Because… you're the only one who still believes silence can be good."
Frido smiled faintly. "You think I'm foolish."
"No," she said, too quickly. "I think you're brave."
He looked at her. "And scared?"
She nodded.
Then, too quickly, whispered: "But I'm scared of you, too."
Frido blinked. "Why?"
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Tore her eyes away.
"…Because you're going to leave us," she said. "One day. And we won't be able to follow."
---
The Cracked Bell
Frido took the cracked bell from his bag.
He held it in both hands, then offered it to her.
She hesitated. Then took it.
It was cold.
He said, "If anything happens to me, ring it."
"Why?" she asked.
"It might wake me up."
She laughed, but the sound broke in her throat.
"You're not allowed to die," she whispered.
Frido smiled.
"That's not up to me."
---
The Last Door
They left Eldrath Hollow at dawn.
As they passed the bell tower, Mirea glanced up.
A single rope now dangled from the hook.
But no bell.
And beneath it, carved into the stone, was a message none of them had seen the day before:
"Let the silence speak. And may it speak only once."
Frido stared at it.
Then turned his back.
As they walked away, Mirea whispered,
"I will speak it when you can't."
Frido didn't hear her.
But the stone in his pocket pulsed once—warm, steady.
As if it had.
---
[End of Chapter 22]