[Shelter]

The birds chirped while crows cawed, their calls echoing through the dense canopy. Reptiles slithered up tree trunks, their eyes keenly observing the unusual intruders. Squeaking squirrels, their tiny paws skittering against the bark, scurried away at the faint tremors of approaching footsteps. The leaves rustled occasionally, stirred by an unseen breeze, lending a tranquil yet eerie ambiance to the surroundings. Now and then, birds swooped down onto the branches, tilting their heads curiously as they inspected the two ragged travelers.

Kael and Zarek had chosen to venture deeper into the forest. While their immediate concerns were water, food, and shelter, this journey felt just as momentous as their escape from the prison cells of their past. Yet, there was no mistaking it—this forest was anything but normal.

The birds here were noticeably larger than any Kael had ever seen. The squirrels, disturbingly, had two heads, though they behaved no differently from their single-headed counterparts. The squirrels scrabbled past, their twin heads snapping at each other mid-leap. One gnawed on a fist-sized mushroom that pulsed faintly blue, its juice dripping onto the bark like liquid mercury. 

The wind whispered unintelligible murmurs in their ears, and the rustling leaves carried an unsettling duality—at once silent yet screaming.

But the most unnerving phenomenon of all was the sudden, absolute silence that fell at inexplicable intervals. It came without warning, a dreadful hush that lasted mere seconds yet felt stretched beyond reason. Kael had no precise way of measuring time, but by tracking the shifting position of the sun, he estimated that this silence occurred roughly once an hour.

Each time it happened, every living creature—birds, insects, reptiles—froze in place as though held by an unseen force. The first time it occurred, Kael and Zarek instinctively assumed a predator was near, their hands tightening around whatever crude weapons they carried. But after enduring three such eerie pauses, Kael began to suspect otherwise. Whatever caused these silences was not an approaching beast—it was something far more elusive.

Determined not to attract unwanted attention, Kael made a decision: when the next hush fell over the forest, they would remain still, blending into the unnatural stillness rather than fighting against it.

After their fourth stop, Zarek slumped against a tree trunk with a weary sigh. Kael followed suit, settling onto a thick root jutting out from the ground.

Stretching his arms over his head, Zarek let out a groan. "We've been walking for four hours, and still no sign of a single beast. I think you're just being paranoid."

Kael wiped the sweat from his brow before responding, his tone measured. "It's not the lack of danger that worries me. It's the fact that nothing has happened at all."

Zarek frowned but said nothing. Kael sat in thought for a moment before breaking into a small smile. He glanced over at Zarek and shrugged. "Maybe you're right. Let's just focus on finding some rabbits to hunt and a place to sleep. We can worry about everything else later."

Zarek's eyes narrowed in mock suspicion. His expression twisted into exaggerated horror. "Who are you, and what have you done with Kael? The Kael I know would rather toil in the fields all day than agree with me."

Kael raised an eyebrow, smirking. "That's because you rarely come up with ideas worth agreeing with."

Kael straightened and stepped toward a nearby tree, resting his hand against its rough bark as he surveyed his surroundings. After a brief pause, he wedged his right foot into a gap in the trunk and pushed himself upward. His left foot found another crevice, and he carefully ascended, gripping the bark with calloused hands.

Kael scaled the tree with practiced ease—calloused hands gripping bark, boots wedging into crevices. He paused on a thick branch, steadied his balance, then launched onto a higher limb. Below, Zarek's distant grumbling faded as the forest sprawled beneath him.

The ascent continued until he reached the upper canopy, where the view stretched far beyond the dense forest below. The setting sun bathed the treetops in hues of gold and amber, signaling that they had no more than two or three hours before nightfall.

Turning toward the distant mountain range, Kael examined its jagged peaks, but even from this vantage point, it was clear that reaching them would take far more than a few days of travel. Climbing them for a better view was out of the question.

As he took in the landscape, something else caught his attention. The land here was uneven, and certain trees stood out—towering above the rest, some seemingly reaching heights of nearly 300 meters. More unsettlingly, these enormous trees were spaced at precise intervals, positioned almost as if they formed the corners of an immense, invisible square. The gaps between them stretched for kilometers. The unnatural symmetry sent a ripple of unease through him. Whatever significance they held, Kael decided to steer clear of them unless their purpose became unavoidable.

Narrowing his eyes, he spotted something peculiar in the distance. Among the tangled wilderness, an ancient ruin lay in quiet decay. Weathered rubble littered the area, remnants of a structure that had endured centuries of time's relentless erosion. From this height, it was impossible to discern more than the general shape of what once stood there, but something about it tugged at his instincts.

He shifted his gaze elsewhere, catching sight of the vast grasslands and the clearing where the other slaves had first been seen. His jaw tensed. He refused to let his eyes linger in that direction, unwilling to risk drawing the attention of the rabid dogs—or whatever they truly were. For now, that part of the forest was best left forgotten. I've been influenced by him too much. The thought made him shake his head.

Just as he prepared to descend, another ruin came into focus, this one much closer—only a few kilometers away. He studied it carefully, his breath hitching slightly at the sight. What remained of the structure suggested it had once been a grand platform, its foundation made of marble, supported by four majestic pillars. Now, those pillars lay in ruin, shattered remnants strewn across the ground, their broken pieces half-buried beneath creeping vines and overgrown grass. The ceiling, though partially intact, sagged under the weight of time, held up only by the fractured stumps of the once-proud columns.

Beside the ruined platform, a thin stream wound through the landscape, its waters shimmering in the fading sunlight. Whether it was drinkable or not, Kael couldn't say—but it was the closest water source they had come across. He exhaled sharply.

At the very least, they now had a destination.

That'll do, Kael thought, giving one last glance at the distant ruins before beginning his descent. He moved with practiced ease, gripping branches and footholds with precision, making his way down the tree swiftly but carefully.

The moment his boots hit the forest floor, he turned toward Zarek, who had sprawled out on the thick root, using it as a makeshift pillow. The man was already fast asleep, his slow, steady breaths proof of his exhaustion. Kael frowned. With a swift kick to the leg, he shattered the moment of peace.

Zarek jolted awake with a sharp inhale, scrambling to his feet, his eyes darting wildly as if expecting an ambush. It took only a second for him to recognize Kael standing before him, arms crossed in mild amusement. With an exasperated sigh, Zarek ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, Kael. Was that really necessary?"

Ignoring the complaint, Kael dusted off his clothes and got straight to the point. "There's a place nearby we can use as a shelter for the night. It's not too far, and I didn't see any signs of beasts around it." He turned slightly, motioning toward the direction of the ruined platform. "If we head straight, we should reach it in about an hour. In the meantime, figure out how we're making a fire. You know more about that than I do."

Zarek rolled his shoulders, still shaking off the grogginess, but nodded at the request. Back when they were kids, they'd spent entire days in the woods, sneaking away from the village whenever they could. Hunting and starting fires had always been Zarek's strong suits, much more than Kael's.

Grabbing the stick he had been using as a makeshift weapon, Zarek reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tin container. Flipping open the lid, he revealed a sharp blade tucked neatly inside. Beneath it, a black-and-white photograph peeked out—a worn, creased image of him and his parents, the last remnant of a past that felt like a lifetime ago.

His fingers hesitated over the photo. His usual carefree demeanor softened, his eyes lingering on the faces he could barely remember anymore. A fleeting moment of silence passed before he took the blade and slid the tin back into his pocket.

Kael hadn't spoken a word during the entire exchange, but his gaze was distant—lost in a memory of his own, one he wasn't ready to share.

They resumed their journey toward the so-called shelter, moving at a steady pace through the dense undergrowth. As they walked, both Kael and Zarek gathered thin, dry branches that could be used for firewood. Zarek, always one to keep his hands busy, idly scraped the rough bark off a sturdy branch roughly the length of his arm and as thick as his pinky, sharpening it with careful, precise strokes.

Despite their efforts, they hadn't come across any decent prey. The forest, for all its eerie vitality, seemed almost devoid of small game. They had, however, managed to find a few clusters of berries along the way. 

Zarek plucked a berry, rolled it between his fingers, then pressed it to his wrist. When no rash bloomed, he shrugged and tossed it into his mouth. "Tastes like piss", he said, but reached for another. Kael grimaced but pocketed a handful, their hunger outweighing caution.

After nearly an hour and a half of walking, they finally reached their destination. The moment they stepped into the clearing, a faint but unmistakable sound reached their ears—the soft ripple of flowing water. Zarek stiffened slightly, his throat dry from the long trek. Slowly, he turned his head toward Kael, anticipation evident in his gaze.

Kael's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Go check if we can drink it," he said, his voice flat but amused. Without waiting for a response, he turned and made his way toward the ruins, stepping over scattered debris.

Zarek didn't need to be told twice. He immediately discarded the bundle of firewood and sprinted toward the source of the sound. The cool, crisp scent of fresh water filled his senses as he neared the stream.

When he finally reached it, the sight made his breath hitch. The water was crystal clear, revealing smooth pebbles and strands of aquatic plants swaying gently beneath the surface. The stream flowed steadily, originating from somewhere higher up—likely near the distant mountain peaks.

For a brief moment, Zarek was tempted to throw himself into the water, to let the cool rush wash away the exhaustion clinging to his body. But instead, he fell to his knees at the bank, cupping his hands together and scooping up the liquid.

He hesitated only a second before bringing it to his lips.

The moment the water touched his tongue, relief spread through him like wildfire. It was clean, crisp, and refreshing beyond words. He gulped down another handful, then another, feeling as if life itself was being poured back into his weary limbs. 

While Zarek quenched his thirst by the stream, Kael had already stepped through the narrow opening in the ruins, ducking slightly as he entered the shadowy interior. The marble ceiling, though cracked and worn with age, still held firm above him, supported by the remnants of four pillars. Inside, the air was stale, untouched, as if time itself had hesitated to claim this place. The dim lighting made it difficult to see, but Kael's eyes adjusted quickly.

The chamber wasn't large, yet it was spacious enough for them to rest comfortably, even if a dozen others were to join them. But something gnawed at him—a sense of unnatural stillness. He had expected overgrowth, vines creeping through the cracks, and maybe even small creatures taking refuge within. But there was nothing. No moss, no insects, no sign of life whatsoever. It was as if the forest had deliberately avoided this place.

His gaze swept across the interior, and then he saw it.

A chest. It sat half-buried, yet the rubble around it looked placed, not fallen. No dust clung to its surface, though the air reeked of decay. The carvings on its lid twisted like living vines under the flickering light—were they moving? Kael blinked, and the illusion vanished. 

A sliver of sunlight from a gap in the ruins illuminated its intricate carvings, casting soft, golden hues across its surface. The craftsmanship was unlike anything Kael had ever seen, its engravings speaking of a civilization lost to time. And yet… there was something wrong about it.

Kael's steps slowed. His instincts, honed by years of survival, whispered caution.

This is not normal.

At first glance, it appeared rusted, but the metal wasn't corroded in the way he would have expected. It was aged, yet eerily preserved. And what unsettled him the most was the dust—or rather, the lack of it. Unlike the rubble around it, the chest bore almost no signs of abandonment.

A chill crept up his spine.

This could be dangerous.

Kael's fingers twitched, itching to pry it open, but his gut told him otherwise. He took a slow step back, putting distance between himself and whatever secrets the chest held. He wasn't about to make the same mistake that naive treasure hunters made in stories.

With a final wary glance, he turned and exited the ruins.

Zarek was sprawled across the ground by the stream, looking like he had melted into the earth itself. His arms were spread wide, his chest rising and falling in steady, satisfied breaths. Kael smirked.

"The sun's about to set," he called out, stepping closer. "Get the fire started. Make sure we have enough wood to last through the night."

Zarek groaned, clearly reluctant to move so soon after finding such blissful relief. But after a few seconds, he let out a deep sigh and sat up, stretching his limbs.

Kael crouched by the water and cupped some in his hands, letting the crisp coolness flow down his throat. The sensation was invigorating, pushing away the exhaustion clinging to his body like a second skin.

As Zarek got to his feet and grabbed the wood he had collected earlier, Kael spoke again, his tone more serious this time.

"Don't touch the chest inside. We'll figure out what to do with it later."

That got Zarek's attention. He turned, raising an eyebrow. "A chest?"

Kael nodded.

Zarek's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "What, worried it's cursed?"

Kael exhaled through his nose. "Just leave it alone for now."

Zarek shrugged but didn't press further. "Anything else, boss?"

Kael narrowed his eyes, pretending to contemplate before responding dryly, "Nothing for now. Just get the fire ready."

Zarek clicked his tongue. "Tch. You don't even pick up on sarcasm anymore. What happened to you, my friend?" He sighed dramatically and trudged toward the ruins.

Kael simply shook his head. Some things never change.

***

As the sky darkened and the first stars began to peek through the canopy, Kael gathered the berries they had collected and washed them in the stream. Using a broad leaf as a makeshift tray, he carried them back to the ruins, where the glow of firelight flickered faintly through the cracks in the marble structure. It wasn't bright enough to attract attention from a distance, but it would serve its purpose well.

He let out a small breath.

Good. At least we have fire.

Stepping through the entrance, he crouched slightly before straightening inside, his eyes immediately landing on the fire Zarek had managed to build. He had to give credit where it was due—the flames were steady, casting warm hues over the cold stone walls.

But before Kael could say a word of praise, his gaze drifted toward the chamber's far corner.

His stomach twisted.

Zarek stood before the chest.

The lid was open.

A soft, eerie chill seeped into the air, the kind that didn't come from wind or temperature but from something unseen. It sent a prickle down Kael's spine.

He strode forward, his pulse quickening. "Zarek—"

But as he neared, he hesitated.

Zarek was fine. He wasn't harmed, not frozen in place or screaming in terror. Instead, he simply stood there, staring into the chest with an expression Kael hadn't expected.

A wide smile.

Kael's breath caught in his throat.

His friend, who had joked and complained just moments ago, now looked transfixed—entranced. His lips curved upward as if he had found something he had been searching for his entire life.

Kael stepped beside him, half-expecting to see something grotesque, something unnatural. But when his eyes fell upon the contents of the chest…

His expression shifted.

A slow, familiar smile, mirroring Zarek's own, spread across his face.