Chapter 194: Whispers Beneath the Silent Moon

The night carried a chill that clung to the skin like a lover reluctant to let go.

Above them, the moon was a ghostly sentinel, round and full, casting an ethereal silver light across the open plains. The grass swayed gently, whispering secrets in a tongue only the wind understood.

Fred stirred from his uneasy sleep.

The soft crackle of the dying fire painted trembling shadows across the faces of his friends. They slept huddled together, each in their own small island of dreams, their breathing slow and deep.

He sat up slowly, brushing stray leaves from his tousled dark hair. His green eyes, always so vividly alive, now reflected the moonlight like pieces of polished emerald.

There was a stillness in the air — not threatening, but thick with unspoken meaning.

Fred rose, wrapping his coat tighter around his slender frame, and quietly stepped away from the camp. His boots crunched against the frost-kissed ground.

He didn't know what drew him forward — only that something was calling.

---

The world beyond the camp was bathed in silver.

The trees that lined the old road ahead were skeletal, their bare branches reaching towards the heavens like broken fingers. A soft mist had begun to seep across the earth, curling around Fred's ankles like the touch of forgotten spirits.

Suddenly, a low murmur drifted through the air.

It wasn't the wind.

Fred's heart stuttered.

He pressed forward, cautious but curious, every sense sharpened.

Ahead, at the edge of the mist, stood a figure.

A woman.

She was draped in a gown of midnight blue, so dark it seemed to swallow the moonlight whole. Her hair was a wild tumble of silver, cascading down her back, and her skin was pale — almost translucent.

She was neither young nor old; her face was timeless, both beautiful and haunting, as if carved from a dream.

Fred opened his mouth to speak, but the woman raised a slender finger to her lips.

Silence.

The air grew heavy, laden with a strange sorrow that pressed down on his chest.

She beckoned.

Fred hesitated for a heartbeat, then moved closer.

As he approached, he saw that she stood before a stone slab half-buried in the earth. Ancient runes, worn smooth by time, were etched across its surface.

The woman knelt before the stone and placed her hand upon it.

Instantly, the runes began to glow faintly, like dying embers given new life.

Fred dropped to one knee beside her, the dampness of the earth soaking into his trousers.

The woman's voice, when it came, was no louder than a whisper, yet it filled the air around him:

> "The path ahead is carved by the choices you fear to make, Fred of Evermere."

Fred's breath caught.

How did she know his name?

Before he could speak, the woman turned her pale eyes upon him. In their depths, he saw not reflections, but memories — his own memories — twisting and swirling like smoke.

> "The burden you carry is heavier than most, but your heart is forged of fire and sorrow... and that, child, makes you stronger than you believe."

Tears stung Fred's eyes.

He blinked them away, ashamed, but the woman smiled softly, as if understanding without judgment.

> "Go back to your friends," she said, rising gracefully. Her voice was a song and a sigh. "The storm is coming. You must weather it together. Only then shall the road reveal its true end."

With that, she stepped backward into the mist.

One heartbeat she was there.

The next — gone.

Only the faint glow of the runes remained, pulsing like a heartbeat beneath the earth.

---

Fred stumbled back to camp, his mind a swirl of emotions — wonder, fear, sadness, hope.

The fires were burning low, but someone had added more wood, and the flames licked higher once more.

Comfort stirred and muttered something about soup.

Peter snored loudly, his scarf half-covering his face.

Jackim sat upright, sharpening a blade, his sharp eyes catching Fred's return but asking no questions.

Fred settled back into his spot, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

He gazed up at the moon again.

It hung silently in the night sky, witness to things that no one else would ever understand.

And Fred, heart pounding but strangely calm, closed his eyes and whispered a promise to the darkness:

"No matter what storms come… we will endure. Together."

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