Silence.

Not the silence of an empty forest.

The silence of something that had swallowed every sound.

Frierem swallowed hard.

"...Runa."

She didn't answer.

Her eyes remained fixed on something between the trees. Whatever it was seemed to rise beyond the canopy, yet Frierem couldn't make out its form.

Neither of them could comprehend what they were seeing. A cold wind drifted through the forest, yet nothing reacted to the breeze. The leaves remained still, the trees did not sway, and no sound was made. Yet the children felt it.

Frierem strained his eyes, searching between the endless trunks. He looked around frantically for whatever he had seen. Sweat began to bead across his forehead. Desperate for reassurance, he turned toward Runa.

"...Can you see it?" he whispered.

Runa slowly shook her head.

Crunch.

Both of them spun around.

Whatever they had been looking at was gone.

They squinted into the endless forest, but all they found were trees stretching endlessly into the distance.

Frierem slowly turned back, his eyes wandering across the tree line before stopping on something he couldn't quite understand.

At first, it looked like nothing more than another patch of darkness between the trunks.

Yet the longer he stared...

...the more wrong it felt.

His mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing, unable to tell where it began...

...or where it ended.

It wasn't a shadow.

A creature crouched low upon several unnaturally jointed limbs that dug deep into the forest floor. Its flesh wasn't black. Rather, it seemed to swallow every trace of light around it, leaving only an impossible void where its body should have been.

Its attention was fixed upon a single thing.

His charm.

Every instinct screamed at Frierem to run.

His legs refused.

Not because they wouldn't move.

He simply couldn't bring himself to.

His chest tightened, his vision blurred, and a dull ache spread through him, growing heavier with every heartbeat. His lips trembled.

Why...

Warmth rolled down his cheek.

Frierem blinked.

Another followed.

He was crying.

Why am I...

...crying?

Nothing about the creature frightened him.

Yet it felt as though he had lost something he couldn't remember.

Someone.

Somewhere.

A loss so overwhelming that it seemed impossible for one person to bear.

Before he could understand why...

It spoke.

"...Forsaken."

A moment later, it spoke again.

"Begone."

The word wasn't loud.

It was simply spoken.

Frierem's breathing became shallow, as though his own body had forgotten how to move. He could neither speak nor move. Beside him, Runa stood equally motionless.

A strange pressure washed over them.

Then everything went black.

"Frierem."

His eyelids slowly opened.

The scent of herbs filled the room.

"...Mama?"

Before she could say another word, Frierem pushed himself upright.

"W-Where's Runa?"

The sudden movement sent a sharp pain through his head.

He winced but ignored it, frantically looking around the room.

His mother gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Easy, dear."

"Where is she?" he asked again, his voice more desperate than before.

A faint smile crossed the old healer's face.

"The villagers brought both of you here yesterday."

"They found you both unconscious in the forest."

She slowly pointed toward the opposite side of the clinic.

"She's over there."

Only then did Frierem notice another bed tucked against the wall.

Runa lay peacefully beneath a blanket, her breathing slow and steady.

Relief washed over his face.

"...She's alive."

His shoulders finally relaxed.

"For now," his mother said quietly.

"I've examined both of you over and over."

"No broken bones."

"No poison."

"No illness."

"No wounds beyond a few scratches."

"But."

Frierem raised an eyebrow.

"But what?"

She frowned.

"First, tell me what happened."

Frierem nodded.

He began from the morning.

From leaving the house.

To working the fields.

The market.

Rescuing Runa.

Running into the forest.

Then...

He stopped.

His mother's expression changed.

She froze.

"...And?"

Frierem opened his mouth.

"..."

Nothing came out.

No matter how hard he tried...

He couldn't say it.

His breathing quickened.

"There was..."

He frowned.

"There was..."

His hand instinctively reached for the braided charm around his wrist.

"...Something."

The color drained from his mother's face.

A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead.

Her hands trembled.

She slowly reached forward, gripping his shoulders with surprising strength.

"What did it call you?!"

Frierem's eyes widened, frozen by her reaction.

He had never seen his mother like this.

Silence settled over the room as Frierem struggled to find the words.

"...How did you know it spoke?"

Frierem turned toward the voice.

Runa had pushed herself upright in the bed, her eyes never leaving his mother.

She asked again,

"...How."

"...Did."

"...You know."

"...It spoke?"

Far from Quietmarch...

A massive branch stretched farther than the eye could follow. Its weathered bark rose and fell like ancient cliffs. Far below, clouds drifted lazily through the open space beneath it.

Upon a weathered outcrop rested the nest of a young Argentavis.

The great bird tore strips of flesh from the carcass of a Sky Elk, its hooked beak ripping effortlessly through hide and muscle. The elk's broad feathered wings hung lifeless over the edge of the nest, stained crimson. Built to glide between the colossal branches of the Sacred Tree, Sky Elks were among the most prized livestock.

"Young Master, please... can we return?" the young servant whispered, his voice trembling, unable to pull his gaze away from the nest. Tears welled in his eyes.

"What if its mother comes back?"

The Young Master rolled his eyes.

"We've been watching this stupid bird for hours."

"Relax."

"But—"

"Did you forget?"

He smirked.

"I'm one of the Chosen."

People will finally see me for all my greatness...

I'll kill this stupid bird all on my own.

His mother remained still. The woven charm resting in her lap slowly passed between her fingertips as she traced every braid, as though remembering the hands that had first woven it.

Then...

She let out a long, weary sigh.

"...I prayed this day would never come."

Neither Frierem nor Runa spoke. For the first time since they had known her, the old town healer looked...tired.

Not from age.

From memory.

She slowly put the charm to the side of her.

"If I'm going to answer your question..."

After a short pause...

"...Then I have to tell you where it all began."

She slowly rose to her feet and disappeared into the back of the clinic, leaving Runa and Frierem to wonder where she went. Moments later, she returned carrying a small journal in her hand, its deteriorated cover and dusty finish showing signs of neglect. When she opened the worn-out journal, her fingers traced the weathered pages as the words lit up in a warm golden glow.

Before Frierem could say anything, Runa gave him a sign to stop and watch. Once she reached the page she was looking for.

Leaving them both to watch in awe, she drew in a slow breath.

"If you wish to understand what happened in that forest..."

"...Then you must first understand who we once were."

Another moment of silence passed before she began.

"There was once a time when humanity was not confined to these lands."

"We walked a far greater world."

"Our ancestors built kingdoms that stretched beyond the horizon, crossed endless seas, dived deep into deadly hollows, climbed mountains that touched the heavens, and wandered forests older than memory itself."

"They were not alone."

"They shared the world with many others."

"Titans whose footsteps shook the earth."

Frierem's eyes sparkled with excitement.

Titans...?

Were they larger than the thing in the forest...?

"Ancient creatures that had witnessed the birth of civilizations."

"And countless peoples whose names have long since been forgotten."

"Despite their differences... they lived."

"They traded."

"They learned."

"They explored."

"And for a time..."

"They lived in peace beneath the same sky."

She paused, gently closing the journal for a moment.

"...At least..."

"...That is how the oldest stories remember it."

"For generations, humanity believed the peace would never end."

"But peace is a fragile thing."

"It did not end with a declaration."

"It did not end with a warning."

"It simply..."

"...Ended."

"At first, it was only whispers."

"A caravan that never returned."

"A village that fell silent."

"A kingdom that suddenly ceased all trade."

"Some believed it to be disease."

"Others blamed monsters."

"There were even those who believed the gods had abandoned us."

She paused, her fingers lingering over the page.

"...No one knew."

"Not then."

"The stories only say that, one by one..."

"...the lights of humanity began to disappear."

"When humanity stood upon the brink of extinction..."

"When every prayer went unanswered..."

"When every kingdom believed the end had come..."

"Five souls stepped forward."

"Not gods."

"Not saints."

"Not chosen by fate."

"Only Five people."

"A king with no kingdom."

"A witch with no Arcane."

"A cleric who had been forsaken."

Frierem's heart skipped a beat.

Forsaken...

That was the word.

"And a man the size of a hundred men..."

"...who believed wisdom could carry a sword farther than strength ever could."

"And the fifth."

"They were not the strongest."

"They were not the greatest."

"But history remembers them because, when the rest of humanity despaired..."

"...they did not."

"The Five could not end humanity's suffering."

"They could not restore what had been lost."

"They could not bring back the countless lives already taken."

"But they gave humanity something it had not known for generations."

"Peace."

She slowly turned the final page.

"But peace is not the same as safety."

"The forests still held creatures older than kingdoms."

"The mountains still echoed with beasts that cared little for mankind."

"The seas still claimed the foolish."

"And the darkness remained where few dared to wander."

She closed the journal.

"The old world passed beyond our reach."

"And in time..."

"...humanity forgot there had ever been another."