Yun's morning began like any other—alone, seated by the cliff that overlooked the city of Liora, drinking in the stillness before the day broke. But today, the silence was different. It wasn't peaceful—it was watching him.
As he stood up and returned to his post at the gate, his instincts clawed at him. The air was heavier than usual. It was like the ground itself was holding its breath. His eyes darted between travelers and merchants as they poured in and out of the city, but something felt... wrong.
Then he saw them—three figures cloaked in ash-grey, with masks shaped like broken animal skulls. They moved through the crowd without touching a single soul, like wind slicing through grass. Yun narrowed his eyes. They weren't registered mercenaries or known guild members. In fact, they didn't exist in any record. He was sure of it. Because Yun had memorized every face, name, and affiliation that ever passed through the gate.
"Excuse me," Yun called out, stepping forward. The figures froze.
The one in front tilted his head, as though amused that a mere gatekeeper dared stop them.
"State your business in Liora," Yun said calmly.
The figure said nothing but handed him a small stone. It was smooth and etched with symbols Yun had never seen before. When his fingers brushed it, a sharp sting sliced through his mind.
Visions flooded in. A black flame. A circle of whispering mouths. A memory not his own—of someone being erased from the world without a trace.
Yun dropped the stone and stepped back.
"What… was that?" he gasped.
One of the masked figures finally spoke, their voice distant, as though coming from underwater."We are the Silent Ones. We do not pass through gates. We pass through fate."
The phrase triggered something deep in Yun's memory. His dreams—those blurred, maddening fragments of another life. The girl with silver eyes. The chained door buried beneath roots. The whisper that always said, "Remember who you are."
Before Yun could speak again, the figures melted into the crowd, vanishing without resistance.
Later that evening, Yun reported the incident to the guards' inner council. They laughed.
"Sounds like you just met a couple of traveling cultists. Should've just ignored them."
Yun slammed his fist on the table. "They knew things… things I haven't told anyone. And that stone—when I touched it, I saw something. Something wrong."
Captain Jorr folded his arms. "You're overthinking again, Yun. You're a gatekeeper, not a seer."
That word again. Just a gatekeeper.
Frustrated, Yun left the meeting. But as he returned to his quarters, he noticed something pinned to his door: a black feather, unnaturally cold to the touch.
Attached was a note:
"You're awake. Good. But know this: you are being watched. And not just by us.Keep standing at that gate, Guardian. The real danger hasn't arrived yet."
Yun's blood ran cold.They knew who he was.Not who the world thought he was—but who he used to be.And maybe, who he was meant to become again.
As the moon rose, Yun stared out into the darkened plains. Somewhere out there, the Silent Ones watched. And for the first time in years, he whispered something he hadn't dared admit aloud.
"I'm not just a gatekeeper."