Eastern Borderlands – Dusk
The land here refused to decide what it was. One moment, sharp hills that cut the horizon into jagged lines. The next, low, soft valleys filled with ankle-deep water that reflected a sky too gray to hold color. Trees came in bursts—skeletal things, more bone than bark—and the ground never held the same texture twice. Grass. Stone. Mud. Salt. Then nothing at all.
Ren had given up on trying to call it terrain. It was mood. Geography dictated by mood.
He and Zarno walked without speaking. They hadn't seen other people in two days. That meant nothing.
People didn't mean safety out here. People meant questions. People meant side-glances and full purses and the word "insect" muttered like a spell.
When the light began to flatten—neither full dark nor usable day—Zarno tapped Ren's shoulder and pointed to a ridge ahead. A natural overhang. Good for shelter. No smoke. No movement.
They moved carefully. Always sideways. Never straight up.
Under the Ridge – Nightfall
The cave smelled like wet fur and old firewood. Nothing fresh, which was good. No one had used it recently.
Ren set down his bag. His shoulders ached from carrying it unevenly for so long. Zarno unpacked a small cloth pouch and spilled dried root slices onto her palm.
"Chew slow," she said.
He took one. It tasted like dirt and mint.
They ate in silence, again. The only sound was the occasional pop from the fireless lantern they used—a trick Zarno taught him. Beetle oil and pressed glass. Dim enough to avoid notice, bright enough to see their hands.
"She's still following us," Zarno said eventually. Not a question. Not fear.
Ren nodded. "She knows what I am."
Zarno tilted her head. "And what are you again?"
He didn't answer.
The pen had written nothing since yesterday. But it throbbed gently in his coat. Like a heartbeat. Like it wanted something.
Elsewhere – Serel Vann(the hunter)
She had lost their scent twice. Not due to skill. Due to something stranger.
The path had literally vanished. Erased. Covered. Not by wind or rain—those would've left traces. But here, in this part of the world, Ren's existence seemed to offend the dirt itself.
Still, the echoes remained. A burnt match here. A hair caught in bark. A footprint where none should remain.
And something else.
Each time she got closer, her body stiffened. Not from tension, but from resistance. Like her purpose rebelled.
It was rare. Dangerous. It meant Ren Kisaragi was not just Earth-born.
He was part of something that twisted the design. A black thread in a tapestry. And if she pulled him too hard, the whole cloth might unravel.
She smiled.
She loved difficult work.
Ridge – Deep Night
Ren had a nightmare. Or a message.
The sky had been filled with numbers. Not stars. Not clouds. Just sequences, running like rivers. Every time he tried to read them, his eyes bled.
When he woke, Zarno was gone.
Panic didn't hit immediately. Just a tightness in the chest. He stood, carefully, listening.
A few paces outside the cave, he saw her. Standing still.
Staring at the ground.
He walked over slowly. "What is it?"
She didn't look up.
"They're following us too."
He blinked. "Who?"
Zarno pointed. And only then did he see it.
Another set of footprints. Too small for Serel. Too deliberate for wildlife. Deep heel marks. Military.
"Soldiers?"
Zarno nodded. "Not Haldrith, though. These are… different. We should be More careful."
He exhaled. "So We're being watched."
Forest Edge – Dawn
They moved before light returned.
Fog sat low on the grass like sleeping breath. Ren kept his coat close, hood low. Zarno moved with less care. She always had.
The trees thinned into open flats. Somewhere to the south, a road shimmered in the distance. Broken stones. Old empire trail.
"We could follow it," she suggested.
Ren shook his head. "Too obvious."
She shrugged. "So we cross it. Disappear again."
He nodded. That was better.
As they reached the road, the pen stirred again. It shook violently, then wrote.
"Do not go forward."
Ren stopped.
Zarno looked at him. "What now?"
He pointed west. "We go the wrong way."
Unknown Trail – Midday
The false trail took them up a ridge and down again. They circled a dead orchard and passed three skeletons tied to an old cart. No one spoke.
Eventually, they reached a hollow—a sunken field filled with white reeds. Ren paused.
There was movement ahead. Subtle. Not aggressive.
Two figures. Hooded. Standing still.
Zarno whispered, "found? us."
Ren stepped forward. The pen didn't move.
He held up both hands.
"We're not looking for trouble. Just passing through."
One of the strangers stepped forward. Removed her hood.
She was older. Sharp-eyed. Tattoos along her neck.
"You're from the east," she said. Not a question.
"Yes."
"You brought a signal."
Ren blinked. "What?"
She pointed to his coat.
"The pen. It calls things here. You've already been followed."
Zarno frowned. "How do you know that?"
"Because they came through here yesterday. Soldiers. Three. Lost one to the marsh."
Ren's stomach turned.
"Where did they go?"
The woman smiled faintly. "Into the places where names don't help."
Ren looked at Zarno.
"We follow, then."
Zarno nodded.
The woman didn't stop them.
As they passed, she muttered a prayer under her breath.
And behind them, the reeds began to rustle again.