The sun had barely risen when I felt the familiar breeze glide in through the open window. Morning in Setvastl always smelled like dew, soil, and woodsmoke. It was gentle—the kind of peace that wraps around your shoulders like a warm blanket and makes you forget the world outside even exists.
Selena was humming in the kitchen, her voice soft and low. The scent of roasted yam filled the air. Valen was probably outside tending to the goats, his quiet whistle weaving through the morning sounds. And me? I had one plan for today: play.
"Come on, sleepy head!"
That voice.
Of course—it was him.
Standing by the edge of our gate was Jareth. He was my best friend, the kind that knew when I was lying even if I blinked too fast. We'd grown up side by side, raced on muddy paths, and shared dreams under moonlit skies. He always looked at me like I was braver than I felt.
I skipped breakfast, grabbed a chunk of roasted yam in one hand, and ran out to meet him.
We played like time didn't exist—racing through tall grass, leaping over shallow streams, and hiding in cornfields like the world was our playground. It was our version of hide and seek, but Jareth had this annoying way of finding me no matter where I hid.
"You breathe too loud," he teased, pulling me out from behind an old wooden barrel.
"Oh, shut up," I laughed, throwing a piece of grass at him. "You cheat, admit it!"
He smirked. "I don't need to cheat. I just know you."
And somehow, that made my heart skip a beat.
Evening came, painting the sky in orange and purple. We sat beneath the old tree by the fence—our tree. The same one we carved our initials into when we were ten. Jareth leaned back on his elbows, gazing at the clouds.
"Do you ever wonder what's beyond the woods?" I asked.
He looked at me, thoughtful. "Sometimes. But what if it's nothing special?"
I shrugged. "I'd still like to see for myself."
The stillness didn't last long. Not with the agents around.
We heard footsteps and hushed voices from across the road—two agents in their black vests, standing just outside the field house where they sometimes gathered. At first, I wasn't paying attention. But then, I caught a word. Then another.
"—transfer's delayed. They're watching the borders too closely now."
"They're lucky. At least they're getting paid. I'm stuck guarding a bunch of clueless villagers. We should've smuggled the last batch through when we had the chance."
My heart skipped. Jareth and I looked at each other.
Smuggling? Transfers?
They were supposed to protect us. Why did they sound like criminals?
We ducked behind a bush, watching quietly.
"You think the higher-ups care what happens to this place?" one of them said. "We're just babysitting till the real orders come in."
I gripped the grass in my fists. My peaceful world—the one built on farming, family, and games in the field—suddenly felt like a stage. And the actors? They weren't even trying to stay in character anymore.
The agents moved on, their voices fading into the wind.
Jareth looked shaken. "You think they're planning something?"
I didn't answer.
Because in that moment, something inside me stirred.
A craving.
A need to know more.
A pull—like the fog inside me was starting to lift, just a little.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I stared at the ceiling, my heart racing, replaying those voices again and again. I knew the world outside was big, dangerous even. But for the first time, I didn't care. I wanted to see it. I needed to know why we were being watched, and what secrets the agents were keeping.
And as the moon lit the wooden walls of my room, I whispered to myself,
"Soon... I'll find out."