The news spread like wildfire through the duchy. Entire households whispered in dread, neighbors clutched each other's arms in trembling fear, and the markets grew emptier by the day. People had begun to vanish—without a sound, without a trace. One moment a man would be walking home with his basket of bread, the next only his cloak remained, crumpled on the ground, as if the earth itself had swallowed him whole. Children were no longer allowed to play in the streets, and doors were barred before the sun had even set. A suffocating silence wrapped around the villages, and the people prayed their names would not be the next to vanish from the world.
When the reports reached the duke's court, Leonardo was summoned. Calm, sharp-eyed, and accustomed to handling matters no one else dared touch, he was told to investigate the disappearances in the sector. He did not protest—duty rarely allowed room for hesitation.
But before he could even prepare his horse, Meliny stood before him, her blind eyes fixed somewhere near his shoulder, her voice quivering yet determined.
"Please… take me with you," she whispered, her hands clenched tightly before her chest. "Don't leave me behind, Leonardo. I can help. I want to help."
He frowned, his instinct was to refuse. The road was dangerous, and Meliny—fragile, blind, vulnerable—was the last person who should travel into such darkness. But her persistence never wavered. She tilted her head upward, searching his silence, and said again in a trembling plea, "You never let me be useless, don't start now."
Her words struck him unexpectedly deep, and before he could utter a final protest, Drovek's steady voice cut in from the doorway.
"If she goes, then so do I. You won't keep me away from this either."
And so it was settled.
⸻
The carriage wheels creaked as they rolled along the dirt road toward the sector. The three of them sat inside—Leonardo silent, his gaze fixed out the window, Meliny leaning slightly toward him, and Drovek across from them, studying every subtle shift of expression. The forest stretched endlessly outside, shadows lengthening with the fading sun.
Meliny broke the silence first. "Leonardo… do you remember when we were children?" Her voice was soft, almost fragile, but there was a spark of mischief in it. "Do you remember how I used to steal chocolate and hide with you behind the old wooden door? We'd eat it quickly before mother caught us."
Leonardo's eyes flickered, the faintest trace of warmth softening his usually impassive features. A distant memory stirred—the taste of chocolate, the laughter, the thrill of being scolded. For a moment, his expression shifted into something Drovek had never seen before: a fleeting sadness laced with longing.
Drovek's brows knit slightly. So even he… even Leonardo can look like that? he thought.
"Yes," Leonardo replied at last, his voice quiet. "I remember. I remember how you always hid behind me so that only I would be scolded."
Meliny let out a soft laugh, puffing her cheeks into a playful pout. "Of course. You are my big brother—you're supposed to protect me always."
His gaze lowered, and in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "Yes… and I already do."
The carriage grew quiet again, the weight of his words settling gently between them.
⸻
When they arrived at the village, the atmosphere was suffocating. Doors were barred, shutters closed, and the few people who dared to be outside moved quickly, their eyes wide and haunted. Mothers pulled their children close the moment they saw strangers approach. Fear clung to the place like a heavy fog, and every villager wore the same look—an expression of people who had already begun to mourn for themselves.
It was as if the village had been hollowed out from within.
And this was where their investigation would begin.