Conceptual time passed.
Eva and Ren had made their place in the village.
It was simple. A place of peace. A place of rest.
Ren helped wherever he could, offering a hand to those in need. From carrying blackened wood to clearing the dirt paths of broken carriages, he made himself useful for his time being there.
Most of the villagers couldn't speak—not in the proper manner. Their mouths opened sometimes, sounds forming without words, but they still found ways to show gratitude.
A bowed head. A wave of a hand. Anything to show they were grateful for his help.
And Eva became something like light for the children.
They followed her wherever she went—small, half-forgotten souls. She spent all her time watching over them, telling soft stories and singing soft lullabies. Even Ren enjoyed them.
At first, he lingered on the outskirts, leaning against walls or resting on broken fences.
Eventually, he found himself closer—listening instead of watching.
The children didn't mind his silence. They would sit beside him, pressed against his legs, leaned on his shoulders wide-eyed as Eva spoke. There was comfort in the children's reactions: the way they all leaned forward at tense moments, the way they laughed too loud at simple jokes.
It was a change of pace. And it was going to be hard to give it up.
There was more he had to do. More beyond the mist of this village.
And Eva would be at his side through it all.
When the children scattered—chasing one another down dirt paths, laughter fading into the mist—Eva rose, brushing the dust from her dress. Ren stood with her, stretching stiff muscles.
They walked back from the fields to the cabins.
"Are you ready?" Eva asked, her tone casual.
"Yeah…"
When they reached the old woman's cabin, Ren raised his hand to the door.
KNOCK
No answer.
"She might not be inside, Ren. I believe I saw her leave earlier."
Down the main dirt path, they found her standing outside another cabin, speaking with two other villagers. When she noticed them approaching, she waved off the villagers and turned to them.
"Oh, there you are." She said. "Did you need something?"
Ren glanced over at Eva before answering.
"Yeah…" Ren replied. "We were hoping to talk with you…"
"Of course." She smiled. "Come along."
Back inside her cabin, she lowered herself into her wooden chair.
"I assume you'll be leaving soon," The old woman began.
"We are, but…" Ren replied, "We were wanting to ask some questions first. If that's alright?"
"Not at all. Ask what you will." She said, gesturing toward the small table for them to sit.
Both of them sat down, a table placed by the front window.
"I've been wondering since we first met…" Ren questioned. "How is it you speak so clear?"
"I believe the answer to that is quite simple…I've just yet to lose it is all."
"Lose it?" Eva added in.
The old woman nodded. "Words. Meaning. The thread that ties thought to sound." She began tapping her cane against the floor. "And most people here have been stripped of that thread."
"But you still understand them?" Ren asked.
"Of course," The woman said without hesitation. "All of us still feel. Fear. Relief. Gratitude. Those things don't disappear just because the mouth forgets how to express them." She glanced out of the window, where pale silhouettes moved through the mist. "Emotion has its ways of bleeding through. Even when the voice is gone."
"She is right…" Eva spoke, more to Ren than the woman. "I can feel their emotions here—vivid."
The woman smiled at Eva's words.
"But I must ask…" Eva continued. "How did you come across this village?"
"I'm afraid I don't remember, sweetie." The old woman spoke. "I only know something about this place protects us. Why? Or how…That knowledge has long slipped through my fingers."
Laughter came from outside the window, the kids running down the path, laughing without care.
"I'm just glad I found them before they were too far gone," she added. "Especially the children."
Eva smiled at Ren, then looked back through the window. "We are too…"
"It's safe here…" The woman spoke again. "Are you two really sure about leaving?"
Eva looked over to Ren, awaiting his response to the question.
Silence hung when he didn't give an answer.
'I could say no right now...I could stay here. With Eva.' Ren thought. 'But this isn't the safe haven I thought it to be. It's a rabbit hole...hidden away where the wolves won't find them.'
Ren looked down at the table, running his fingers in the worn down ridges.
'But if I—we hide here. We're only delaying the inevitable'
He looked back out of the window, watching a child trip over a broken fence post.
But she was caught by her hand just in time, running along with joyous laughter.
'These people deserve more than this. And...there has to be others out there that need to be saved. Questions that still need answers. Answers that can't be found if we remain here...'
'Most of all...I just want her to escape. To see a clear sky that shines the way she does. To walk down a beautiful path.' Ren's fingers tapped against the worn wood table, looking up at Eva through his lashes. 'Just somewhere her gentle demeanor isn't held against her...I want to trade fear for happiness. Trade screams for laughter. Sorrow for smiles. But none of that waits behind us. There is no freedom we find by standing still. Even if it hurts me. I'll move. Because the only way to reach it—the only way to reach that future....Is to move forward.'