Morning slid in without ceremony, thin light slipping through the clouds like it was unsure it belonged. The road was still damp from night rain, dark and clean and waiting.
Kael woke with that familiar weight in his chest — not pain, not fear — just a pressure, like something unfinished had shifted in its sleep.
Outside, Aevrin was tightening the strap of his bag. He looked ordinary. Calm. The kind of calm that hides too much.
Kael didn't ask what he was thinking. He never did. Some things sat better in silence.
Elior came out next, rubbing his eyes.
"Why does it feel like we're already late?" he said lazily. "We barely even started."
Kael almost smiled.
"Late for what?"
Elior shrugged. "No idea. Just a feeling."
They didn't talk about it after that.
They left the carriage where the road narrowed and turned rough. Elior jumped down first, stretching like someone stepping into freedom.
"Let's walk from here," he said. "I don't feel like sitting today."
Aevrin gave a small, tired laugh. "You never do."
"That's not true," Elior said. "I just… like moving."
Kael watched him go ahead, light and restless, a boy who had grown up too fast and was still trying to taste the leftover sweetness of it. To Elior, this felt like a trip. A stolen morning. A small joy.
To Kael, every step felt heavier than it should have.
The mountain rose slowly in front of them, dark against the soft sky. He didn't think about it. Didn't name the unease. He just kept walking.
Beside him, Aevrin matched his pace, close but not touching. Their shadows stretched long across the road, almost overlapping.
None of them said anything important.
But the road kept pulling them forward anyway.
Elior walked like he had all the time in the world.
The morning sun slipped through the trees in thin, golden lines, and he kept drifting into them on purpose, tilting his face just enough to feel the warmth brush his skin. He closed his eyes for a second, just to make sure it was real.
The air smelled wet and green. New.
He knelt suddenly, fingers brushing over a cluster of small blue flowers pushing through the rocks. Dew clung to their petals, cold and bright. When it touched his skin, he smiled — a soft, quiet smile meant only for himself.
"I forgot it could feel like this," he murmured, not really speaking to anyone.
A leaf brushed his sleeve. He caught it, tracing its veins slowly, like he was reading something written just for him. Every sound — the wind, the birds, the distant rush of water — felt close, like the world was leaning in.
For so long, everything in his life had been about becoming something. Older. Stronger. Better.
Right now, he didn't have to be anything.
He was just a boy walking toward a mountain, sunlight in his hair, dew on his fingers, heart strangely light.
And for a brief, almost painful moment…
He felt free.
Elior moved ahead of them, drifting from one patch of light to another, fingers brushing leaves, catching dew like it was something precious. The mountain felt wide and open around him, and he stepped into it as if it had been waiting just for him.
Kael watched without meaning to.
There was something about the way Elior looked right now — sunlight on his face, that small, honest wonder in his eyes — that made everything else feel very far away. Kael didn't think anything about it. He just felt it settle quietly in his chest.
Aevrin noticed too.
He kept his eyes forward, but every so often they slid back to Elior, soft in a way they never were when anyone was looking. The tension he always carried seemed to loosen, just a little, as if Elior's joy was something he could lean against.
Elior laughed at something only he had seen — a bird, a leaf, a trick of the light — and kept walking, unaware of the way he was being held in two silent gazes behind him.
For a moment, the silence grew thicker, not empty — but expectant.
By the time they reached the top, the path had thinned into a pale ribbon of stone, and then — suddenly — it opened.
The mountain didn't end.
It revealed.
Below them lay a small village, tucked into the curve of the peak like it had grown there instead of been built. Two or three hundred little houses clustered together, roofs dark with age, smoke drifting lazily from a few chimneys. Narrow paths wound between them, uneven and soft, as if thousands of feet had worn them into the earth over centuries.
It was quiet — not empty, just… watching.
At the far end of the village stood the temple.
It was larger than everything else, wide and tall, pale stone catching the light even through the drifting mist. Time had softened its edges, but it hadn't weakened it. The structure felt old in a way that didn't mean broken — old like something that had survived too much to disappear now.
Elior slowed without realizing it.
"So… people actually live up here," he said softly, like he was afraid of waking something.
Kael felt something tighten inside him as he looked at the temple.
He didn't know why his eyes kept going there.
He just knew they did.
Aevrin stood very still beside him, gaze fixed on the same place, face unreadable.
The village lay below them, quiet and waiting.
And whatever had called them here had finally found them.
They walked down into the village slowly, their footsteps soft against the worn stone paths. A few villagers glanced at them as they passed — curious, not unkind — faces shaped by mountain wind and long years. Life moved quietly here. Doors opened, cloth fluttered, someone laughed somewhere behind a wall.
It felt… normal.
And somehow that made Kael more uneasy than silence.
The temple stood at the center of everything, wide steps leading up to tall doors darkened by age. Inside, the air was cool and faintly scented with incense. A low bell chimed somewhere deep within, its echo threading through the hall like a memory. Light slipped through high windows, falling in pale lines across the floor.
They didn't talk much.
Each of them offered their prayers in their own way — Elior with his hands loosely folded, eyes closed as if he were asking for nothing at all; Aevrin still and careful, like every word inside him mattered; Kael quiet, his thoughts drifting where he didn't want them to go.
When they stepped back outside, the day had shifted. The sun was higher now, the village brighter, almost warm.
Elior looked around, suddenly practical again.
"So… where do people like us even stay?"
Aevrin smiled faintly. "Somewhere with a roof would be a start."
Kael let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
They began walking through the village again, searching for a place to stay — three travelers on the surface, carrying much more than that beneath.
And the mountain, looming above the roofs, listened.
The temple was quieter in the evening.
The day's light had thinned, turning gold as it slipped through the tall windows and settled across the stone floor. Kael, Aevrin, and Elior sat on the wide steps inside, waiting — not for anyone in particular, just… waiting. The kind of waiting that feels heavier the longer you do it.
Somewhere, a bell rang. Soft. Far away.
Footsteps approached.
An old monk emerged from the shadows of the inner hall, robes brushing the floor like water. His eyes were gentle but deep, the kind that had watched too many seasons pass to be surprised by anything.
"You've come a long way," he said quietly. "What brings you to this mountain?"
Elior glanced at Kael. Kael looked at Aevrin. Then Elior smiled, small and honest.
"We're here for a study assignment," he said. "But… also, we don't really have anywhere to stay."
The monk studied them for a moment — not just their faces, but something beneath.
"There is a place," he said at last. "Not in the village… but within the temple grounds."
Aevrin's eyes flicked up. "Inside?"
"Yes." The monk turned, motioning for them to follow. "Come."
They passed through a narrow corridor, walls lined with faded murals. Paint peeled and cracked, but the images still lived — warriors in motion, shadows tearing through the sky, light clashing against darkness.
The monk stopped before one of them.
"Long ago," he said, "this mountain was not quiet. Demons rose from the valleys below, drawn to something ancient that rests here. Three warriors stood against them."
The mural showed them — three figures, back to back. One with a blade of light. One cloaked in shadow. One with eyes burning like fire.
"They were not chosen," the monk continued. "They chose each other. And together, they protected this place when no one else could."
Kael felt his breath slow.
Aevrin's fingers curled slightly.
Elior couldn't look away.
"They stayed here," the monk said, walking again. "In a small house behind the inner sanctum. It was theirs… and now, it will be yours."
They reached a wooden door, old but carefully kept. Beyond it, a small house rested in the quiet — stone walls, soft lamplight, a place that felt oddly… waiting.
"This was where they lived," the monk said softly. "Where they rested. Where they returned when the world became too heavy."
He turned to them, eyes calm.
"Perhaps it will welcome you as well."
The door creaked open.
And as Kael stepped forward, a cold shiver ran through him — sharp and sudden — like the past had just recognized his footsteps.
—by Aurea;"Some places do not wait for you to arrive.They wait for you to remember."