The moon hung low above the land of Thal, its pale light rippling across the surface of the great river like liquid silver. The river itself was vast—so wide that its far bank was a ghostly suggestion beyond the mist, so deep that even the bravest fishermen whispered that its bottom touched the roots of the world.
On both sides, trees loomed high and solemn, their trunks gnarled and ancient. Some bent low, dipping their branches into the current as though in eternal worship. Fireflies drifted among their leaves, glimmering like lost stars caught in the canopy. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and river bloom, cool and heavy beneath the weight of night.
White sand spread along the banks, fine and untouched, gleaming faintly under the moonlight.
It looked almost otherworldly—like snow that would never melt, soft as whispered prayer. Every footstep upon it left no mark, for the river's breath smoothed it over with each passing wind.
The people of Thal said the river was born from the tears of the gods. They called it Khsan, the Veiled One, for its depths hid more than they revealed. It was here that they came to speak their oaths, to cleanse their spirits, to cast their offerings into the current and watch them vanish beneath the mirrored surface.
No one dared to swim in its heart, for it was said that those who sought its bottom found the reflection of their soul instead.
That night, the river murmured in a tongue older than memory. The trees seemed to listen, their shadows swaying softly in rhythm. The moonlight scattered across the slow-moving water, turning it into a shifting tapestry of light and darkness—a dream in motion.
Somewhere deep within, something vast stirred, and for a fleeting moment, the water glowed faintly from beneath, as if the river itself had awakened to watch the night pass.
They had arrived at the Khsan, the great river of Thal. Neil got out and followed behind Rowan and Mira, Rowan walked leisurely almost calmm he sang the chorus of a hymn Neil knew, called A dead man's friend.
"Death, the everpresent friend of a lonely dead man
The crown atop a king's head, the final place of dreams
The final solace, the welcoming home to all.
A dead man's final friend, who will accompany him to the final lands."
The hymn was a sad one, one sang at funerals. He wondered if Rowan was singing the hymn on his behalf?
" They are almost here, I will stay here and hold them off." Mira spoke, she still wore the vest and combat trousers but instead of the sandels she wore military boots.
"I will be counting on you." Rowan answered, and gave her a smile.
They continued going further down the river bank, and he heard the Framework's voice:
[Sensory Bloom —Triggered
— Temporary enhancement of spatial and conceptual awareness when facing hostile entities.]
[When activated, Sensory Bloom doesn't merely heighten host's senses—it forces his consciousness to expand beyond human boundaries, allowing him to perceive the conceptual fabric of his surroundings.
This is not a clean or comfortable awareness—it's overstimulation, a rush of divine madness that makes him perceive truths not meant for mortal minds]
Sensory Bloom triggered, the world slowed.
The outlines of everything around him began to breathe—river sand pulsed like living lungs, shadows whispered, and every sound became a ripple in a greater unseen ocean. His pupils dilated, and then he felt it.
Silence, eerie silence deep beneath the Khsan. The silence was slowly slipping towards the surface, the silence stopped its advance and then the river grew still. The water did not flow, it was like a huge lake with deathly still water.
And then the water rippled.
The silence noticed him, and it began approaching the surface at a very fast pace.
[Framework, disengage sensory bloom.!] Neil yelled as he could feel the silence slowly spreading all over the river
[Command recognized.]
[Sensory Bloom, deactivated.] the world returned to normal, time began moving freely. This time it seemed like Rowan had not noticed a thing.
And he was alright, he felt slightly disturbed by the strange sensations and sights but he was alright unlike when he used threadsight back at Isak. He ahd almost fried his brains and eyes.
"Oh, it's already here?" Rowan spike slowly and by it Neil was pretty sure he meant the thing that was quickly approaching the surface of the river.
"What is?" Neil asked feigning ignorance
"My business associate." Rowan responded casually
"And how would you know that, I do not see anything around?" Neil asked again looking around
Rowan pointed at the river
"The river is not flowing, the world is growing quieter. Silence is my associate's favorite thing." Rowan spoke without turning back.
Neil then asked the question that had been bothering him all along:
"Since we got off the vehicle you have been throwing those seeds to the ground once every 20 feet, is there a reason?"
Rowan shrugged.
"I'm leaving a trail behind, in case i can't find my way back once I deliver you."
His answer would have been very reason if not for the fact that it was a straight path back, and to top it off the seeds would just get buried under the river sand.
The man's actions were strange but there was nothing he could, he had to think about his plan of escape. Neil had a guess on what they were supposed to meet, if that thing showed up he had to get his revenge.
He was a little bit curious of how Mira was supposed to handle the approaching elite Deadman of the underworld on her own, knowing the old man this no longer a rescue mission. He was now out to kill Rowan, although he doubted they would succeed.
His intuition was screaming at him, he kept on looking over the information he hazd on the man in his head but it felt like staring at a research paper with holes in it.
His assessment of the man was incomplete or rather it was wrong, that was the feeling he got.
"And now we wait." Rowan spoke staring at the Khsan with a dark expression.