They set up a simple camp for the night as the sky-crystal overhead shifted from bright sapphire to deep violet. The chaotic music of the Chime-Wood softened, its million notes quieting to a gentle, lulling melody. The Fox-Echo that Silas had freed returned, its amber-crystal form emerging silently from the shadows. It settled by the old man's feet, curling up like a domestic animal, its multifaceted eyes watching Kael with a calm, intelligent curiosity. The sight of it, a wild creature so at ease with a human, was a testament to the old man's philosophy.
They sat in a comfortable silence for a long time, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the soft, distant music of the woods. The warmth of the flames and the simple act of sharing a meal with another person after weeks of harsh solitude began to wear down the sharp edges of Kael's caution. He looked at Silas, this old, weathered man who spoke of the world not as a thing to be controlled, but as a presence to be respected. He decided to take a risk.
"Have you ever heard of the Crystalblight?" Kael asked, his voice low, the words feeling heavy and dangerous even here, far from Lumina.
Silas's expression, illuminated by the fire's flickering light, turned grim. The gentle, grandfatherly demeanor vanished, replaced by a deep, weary sadness. "Heard of it?" he said, his voice a low rumble. "I've seen it, boy. I've seen what it does. I've walked through villages closer to the Great City where the blight passed through like a plague. People turned to brittle statues in their own homes. Whole families silenced."
He poked at the fire with a stick, sending a shower of orange sparks into the night air. "The city healers, the Chorus Masters, they call it a curse. A natural decay. A failure of the flesh to hold its harmony." He spat into the fire. "They're fools. Or liars. The blight isn't a disease attacking the people. It's a symptom of a disease attacking the world."
He leaned forward, his pale blue eyes locking onto Kael's with a fierce intensity. "The Chorus Masters and their endless, rigid, perfect harmony… they've wrapped the world in it for generations. They think they're preserving it, perfecting it. But life isn't perfect harmony, boy. Life is chaos. It's a million different songs all playing at once, sometimes clashing, sometimes beautiful. They're trying to force an orchestra to play a single, boring note, over and over. And the world… the world is suffocating."
He gestured to Kael's leg with the tip of his stick. "The blight is like a limb that's been bound too tightly for too long. The song of life gets fainter and fainter, until the flesh goes numb, then hard, then it cracks apart. It dies. The Masters are the ones binding the limb. They are the disease."
Every word Silas spoke was a confirmation of the terrible truth Kael had pieced together. It was validating and terrifying in equal measure. He wasn't a madman chasing a foolish theory. He was right. And if he was right, then the entire foundation of his society was a lie built to conceal a slow, inexorable murder.
Emboldened by the old man's wisdom, Kael made another, more fateful decision. He took a deep breath. "I was wounded," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "By a Jag-Wolf, in the wastes. It gave me a blight."
He leaned forward and rolled up his tattered pant leg, exposing his calf to the firelight. The silvery scars stood out starkly against his skin, the intricate, web-like pattern shimmering with a faint, otherworldly luster. "I… fixed it."
He didn't say how. He didn't have to. The scar was a confession in itself.
Silas stared, his eyes wide. He leaned closer, his expression a mixture of profound shock and something else, something Kael could only identify as a dawning, fearful understanding. The old man reached out a gnarled finger, hesitating for a moment before gently tracing one of the shimmering lines on Kael's skin. He pulled his hand back as if he'd touched a hot coal.
"You didn't 'fix' this with a harmony song, did you, boy?" Silas asked, his voice hushed, awed.
Kael simply shook his head, his throat too tight to speak.
Silas was silent for a long time, his gaze distant, lost in thought. The Fox-Echo at his feet whined softly, sensing the sudden tension in the air. Finally, the old man looked back at Kael, his face etched with a new, grave seriousness. "The Chorus Masters would kill you for that mark," he said, his voice flat and certain. "They would brand you a monster, a creature of chaos. And they would kill you twice over for knowing how to make it."
In the morning, as they prepared to part ways, Silas pressed a small, leather pouch into Kael's hand. Inside was a collection of dried, fragrant herbs. "Resonant Dampeners," Silas explained. "Crush them into a paste with a little water and smear it on your skin. It will dull your resonant signature for a time. Makes you harder for a Warden's senses to pick out from a distance. It won't make you invisible, but it might buy you a few precious seconds."
He looked at Kael. "You're heading toward the cities, aren't you? Toward the noise." It wasn't a question.
Kael nodded.
"I thought so," Silas said with a sigh. "My path leads deeper into the woods, away from their shouting. Yours, it seems, leads right into the heart of it." He gave Kael a crucial piece of information, a gift more valuable than the herbs. "A week's journey from here, on the other side of this wood, you'll find the Obsidian Peaks. In their shadow is a settlement called Barren. It's a rough place, a trading post built in a crack in the world. It's a place for outcasts, apostates, and people running from the Wardens' justice. You'll find knowledge there you won't find anywhere else. But be careful who you trust, boy. A place like that attracts vultures."
Kael thanked the old man, the words feeling inadequate. As he turned to leave, Silas called out one last time, his voice carrying through the chiming of the trees.
"Boy! Remember to listen! Even to the songs you don't like. They're all part of the music!"
Kael raised a hand in acknowledgment but didn't look back. He watched Silas and the Fox-Echo disappear into the glittering depths of the forest, a man perfectly in tune with his wild, chaotic world.
Kael was still alone, but he was no longer lost. His perspective had shifted. He was not the only one who saw the lie. There were others. And now, for the first time since he had unrolled that crude map in his dark room, he had a destination. A name. Barren.
He turned his face towards the direction Silas had indicated, the weight of the Jag-Wolf fang at his hip feeling less like a burden and more like a key. He had a long way to go, but for the first time, he was walking toward something, not just away.