The days passed quietly in the Desolate Expanse, but peace was always fleeting.
Asha had begun to regain some color in her cheeks, and with Jon's attentive care, her strength slowly returned. Though still timid, she no longer flinched at sudden sounds or avoided eye contact. Her voice, once soft and broken, had grown steadier.
Each evening, she would sit by the window, humming lullabies from her homeland—haunting melodies woven with ancient spirit energy. Jon could feel the presence of something watching, listening. Something old.
One night, as he sat across from her sharing a light meal, he finally asked the question that had been gnawing at him.
Jon:
"Asha… those songs you sing. They hold power, don't they?"
Asha paused, her fork hovering mid-air.
Asha:
"Yes. They're spirit calls. We use them in Seirei no Tami to commune with nature and the spirits. Only Spirit-touched can hear their echoes… are you one of them?"
Jon's brow furrowed.
Jon:
"I don't know what I am anymore."
Asha smiled faintly.
Asha:
"Then maybe the spirits chose you."
Just then, a gust of cold air swept through the window. Asha's eyes went wide, her body tensing. The candlelight flickered violently, and Jon instinctively reached for his blade.
Jon (low):
"Stay behind me."
The shadows outside pulsed and twisted. A moment later, a dark figure appeared—cloaked and masked, bearing the mark of a long-forgotten cult: the Black Wreath.
Jon's blade was already drawn.
Cultist (rasping):
"Return the girl… she carries forbidden blood."
Jon:
"She's under my protection. Leave… or die."
But the cultist vanished with a swirl of shadows, leaving only a chilling message behind carved into the floor:
"THE CHILD MUST NOT BE BORN."