Deep in the forest beyond the human village, the veiled one stopped walking.
His supernatural hearing caught every whisper from the distant village. Riko's words reached his ears as clearly as if she'd shouted.
"Another white-haired human?" he murmured to the vase in his hands. "Sold to slavers?"
The legend spoke of the Sarori's white-haired nature, born when the moon released a teardrop of condensed evil. But they had been thorough in the village. Every silver-haired human had died under his darkness, their bodies carved open and searched.
All empty. All worthless.
"We killed every white-haired human in that village. None were the Sarori." The elderess pressed from within her crystal prison, her orange hair suddenly writhing with anticipation. "Could he be the one we seek?"
The veiled one tilted his head toward the sky. Something was wrong. Darkness had swallowed the midday sun, turning noon into the deepest night.
