~Laurent For a heartbeat, everything was silent. The tunnels were still dripping with monster blood. My clones hovered behind me like five shadows waiting for my next breath to become their command. My gaze drifted momentarily to Ciela. She stood half a corridor away, frozen in place, her light dimmed to a frightened flicker. Her hair was dust-streaked, her eyes shining under the lantern glow — but not with relief. With fear. Not fear of the monsters. Fear of me. She looked at me like she didn’t recognize the person — no, the thing — standing in front of her. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, maybe a pleading whisper, maybe my name… but no sound came out. I looked away. I couldn’t let her stop me now. I had to finish what I started. I needed to go for their monarch. I turned, letting the shadows curl around me like a second spine, and walked out into the open city. The air outside hit me like cold steel. The monsters waiting on the street lifted t

~Laurent I had a very bad feeling the moment Calista stepped out of the hut. The chief’s smile stretched wider as the curtain fell behind her, like a wolf finally left alone with a wounded deer. His amber eyes gleamed with something that made every instinct I didn’t remember having stir uneasily inside my chest. He stood from his raised platform with a low grunt, brushing sand off his knees. Then he started circling me. Literally circling. I turned slowly, trying to keep him in my sight. His gaze dragged over me with… interest. The kind a starving man had when staring at a fresh roast. “So,” he murmured, sniffing once. “You’re called Laurent.” “I think so,” I replied. “You think so?” “I, uh… don’t remember anything but my name.” He hummed, as if I had just confirmed something for him. Then— he leaned in. Way too close. Sniff. I froze. “…Are you smelling me?” “For research,” he snapped defensively, though he didn’t step back. “Be quiet.” Another sniff. Long. Suspicio

~Laurent For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The branch was still in my hands, heavy and broken, bark flaking down my arms. Calista just stared — unmoving, unblinking, utterly silent. Her blue eyes were wide, reflecting the shock she didn’t seem capable of voicing. The wind tugged a loose strand of her red hair across her cheek, but she didn’t even flinch. She just kept staring at me like I’d turned into something unreal. “…Laurent?” she whispered again, breath catching at the end. The branch felt wrong in my grip now — like evidence of something I wasn’t meant to hold. I set it down slowly, carefully, unsure if dropping it would break the spell of her shock or snap something deeper. Calista exhaled shakily. Then she stood. “How did you do that?” “I don’t know,” I started. “I just saw the branch coming down and before I knew it, I was here.” Her steps were now stiff, deliberate, cautious. “Come with me,” she said quietly. Her voice didn’t tremble, but it felt ti

~Laurent Calista and I walked back to the village in silence. The sand whispered under our feet, the dying sun spreading long shadows across the huts. Neither of us spoke, not about the diviner, not about the riddles she’d cast into the air like curses, not about the way Calista kept glancing at me from the corner of her eye as though seeing me for the first time. Her steps were quicker now. Not fearful… but alert. As if every part of her had shifted into a quiet readiness. When we reached the village entrance, she finally exhaled. “Alright,” she murmured. “Let’s pretend we just took a long walk. Nothing unusual. Nothing suspicious.” I nodded. My throat felt strangely tight. Nothing suspicious. The villagers were winding down for the day: merchants packing away dried fruit, old elves sitting by clay pots, children running after each other with sticks shaped like swords. They all still stared. Every time. But I pressed on, following Calista as she guided me toward

~Laurent I didn’t notice the wind at first. I was too focused on the broom, on getting the sweeping motion right, on proving to Calista that I wasn’t completely useless. She stood a few steps away with her back turned, checking some baskets, her hair catching what little breeze drifted through the courtyard. I watched her for a second. Then something shifted at the edge of my vision. A ripple. A darting shadow. Too quick. Too smooth. The same thing I’d seen in the desert. The same thing I’d chased earlier today. My pulse kicked. Before I knew it, the broom slipped from my fingers and clattered on the ground. I stepped forward. The shadow flickered again—between two huts this time. I ran. Not far. Just enough to follow it into the narrow space behind the storage huts. I caught only the tail of its movement before it— vanished. Gone. Snuffed out like a flame. I froze, scanning the area. No wind here. No sand. Just stillness. But when I turned back toward the courtya