CHILDREN

The hall was vast and dimly lit, its towering walls lined with shelves of ancient, dust-covered artifacts. Faded banners hung from the rafters, their symbols unrecognizable beneath layers of grime. The air was thick with the scent of damp wood and faintly sweet decay, a reminder that this place had existed long before us.

We stood in silence, the weight of the hooded figure's parting words pressing down on us. Rest here. You'll need your strength for what lies ahead.

"What even is this place?" Tin muttered, his voice breaking the oppressive quiet.

"No idea," Blade said, stepping forward cautiously. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for threats. "But it's not empty."

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. "What do you mean?"

"Listen," she said, holding up a hand.

At first, I heard nothing but the sound of our breathing. Then, faintly, the soft patter of footsteps echoed through the hall. It wasn't the heavy, deliberate tread of adults—it was lighter, quicker, almost playful.

Sol shifted uneasily, his glow casting long shadows that danced across the walls. "It's children," he murmured, his voice tinged with disbelief.

As if on cue, a figure darted into view at the far end of the hall. It was small, no taller than my waist, and moved with a speed and agility that made it difficult to focus on. The figure stopped briefly, its head tilting to the side as if studying us.

"Hey!" Tin called out, taking a step forward.

The figure giggled—a light, carefree sound that sent a chill down my spine in the otherwise eerie silence. Then it darted away, disappearing into the shadows.

"There's more than one," Blade said, her voice tense.

She was right. More giggles echoed through the hall, coming from every direction. Shadows moved at the edges of the room, flickering in and out of the faint light from Sol's glow.

"Show yourselves," Blade demanded, her blade glinting in the dim light.

Slowly, one by one, the children emerged from the shadows. There were at least a dozen of them, their small frames draped in tattered cloaks and patchwork clothing. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide and unblinking, reflecting Sol's light like a cat's in the dark.

"They're... just kids," Tin said, his voice soft with disbelief.

"Kids don't survive out here," Hound muttered, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon.

One of the children stepped forward, a girl no older than six, her hair a tangled mess of curls. She clutched a stuffed animal—something that might have been a rabbit once but was now little more than a lump of fabric and stitching.

"Are you here to help us?" she asked, her voice small and trembling.

The question caught me off guard. "Help you?" I repeated. "What do you mean?"

The girl didn't answer. Instead, she looked over her shoulder at the others, her wide eyes filled with uncertainty. A boy, slightly older, stepped up beside her, his expression more guarded.

"They said someone would come," he said, his voice steady despite his youth.

"Who said?" Blade asked, her tone firm but not unkind.

The boy hesitated, his gaze flickering to the shadows beyond the hall. "The ones who watch over us," he said finally.

I exchanged a glance with the others. The ones who watch over us. The words sent a shiver down my spine, conjuring images of the hooded figure and their glowing lamp.

"Where are your parents?" Hound asked, his voice softer than I'd expected.

The boy's expression darkened. "Gone," he said simply.

"Gone where?" Tin pressed.

"Into the Mists," the girl whispered, clutching her stuffed animal tighter. "They don't come back."

The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive.

"How long have you been here?" I asked, my voice low.

The boy shrugged. "A long time."

Sol's glow flickered, drawing the children's attention. Their eyes seemed to brighten, their faces softening as they moved closer to him.

"You're warm," one of them said, reaching out a tentative hand toward Sol.

"Hey," Blade said sharply, stepping between Sol and the child. "Don't get too close."

"It's okay," Sol said, his voice gentle. He lowered himself to one knee, his faint glow casting a soft light over the children. "We're not here to hurt you."

The children relaxed slightly, their wary expressions easing. The girl with the stuffed animal stepped closer to Sol, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"You're like the sun," she said, her voice filled with wonder.

Sol smiled faintly, though the strain was still evident on his face. "Not quite," he said.

"Why are you here?" the boy asked, his gaze shifting between us.

"We're just trying to survive," I said.

The boy studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded, as if satisfied with my answer.

"You should stay with us," he said.

"Stay?" Blade repeated, her tone skeptical.

"It's safe here," the girl said. "The watchers don't come into the Mists."

Blade froze, her body going rigid. Her voice, when it came, was sharp and dangerous. "What did you call them?"

The girl blinked, her expression confused. "The watchers," she repeated.

Without warning, Blade's blade flashed, the motion so quick I barely registered it. The girl gasped, her stuffed animal tumbling from her hands as she crumpled to the ground, a dark stain spreading across her chest.

"Blade!" I shouted, my voice cracking with shock.

The other children screamed, their giggles turning into shrill, piercing wails. They scattered, disappearing into the shadows as chaos erupted around us.

"What are you doing?" Tin yelled, grabbing Blade's arm.

"She's one of them," Blade snarled, her eyes blazing with fury. "Didn't you hear her? She called them the watchers."

"She's just a kid!" I shouted, my heart pounding.

Blade turned to me, her expression cold and unyielding. "No one out here is just anything," she said.

The girl's body lay motionless on the floor, her pale face frozen in an expression of shock and fear. My stomach churned, and I fought the urge to vomit.

In the distance, the growls of the watchers returned, louder and more frenzied than before.

"They know," Sol said, his voice trembling. "They know we're here."

The children's screams echoed through the hall, blending with the watchers' growls in a cacophony that sent chills down my spine.

"We need to move," Blade said, her tone clipped and commanding. "Now."