Chapter 21 - What Remains

Chapter 21 — Echoes

The last trade faded into the interface with a soft chime. Caleb stood, stretching his back as the warmth of the fire seeped into his bones. The new boots fit snugly, and the pot was already simmering a small stew made from scrap meat and melted snow. For the first time in days, he didn't feel like death was breathing down his neck.

But his eyes drifted to a quiet corner of the system interface.

[Nyssara] — no longer greyed out.

He stared at it for a long moment, then muttered under his breath. "Nyssara."

The room grew still.

A shimmer formed near the wall. Not like last time, when her figure wavered like smoke. Now, Nyssara stepped forward with purpose. Her silhouette was sharp, defined. The snow-like mist clinging to her limbs solidified. Her hair flowed like ink in water, eyes still that haunting silver—but now they watched him rather than drifted through him.

And beneath the hem of her ghostly robe, shadowed tendrils stretched across the floor, coiling faintly like resting limbs.

Caleb took a step back, hand inching toward his blade before stopping himself.

"You… look different," he said slowly.

Nyssara tilted her head, as if studying herself for the first time. "Too long… I wore that form. It clung to me. Stained the soul."

"You mean the monster?"

She nodded once. "A soul drowned in grief freezes in its shape. You helped me break it… but the frost remembers."

Caleb sat down, uneasy. He stared at the fire again.

"I guess that makes two of us carrying old shadows," he said quietly.

Nyssara looked toward the door, as if hearing a sound he couldn't. Her voice came softer now, more distant.

"Not all who fall are truly gone. Some linger… watching."

Caleb looked up.

She turned to him, her gaze sharpening. "The buried. You should return. Before the frost forgets."

And just like that, she was gone—faded without a sound, though the faint trail of mist she left behind lingered for moments more.

Caleb stared at the spot she vanished from, her words burning quietly in the back of his mind. He thought of the grave beneath the tree. Of the two corpses laid side by side on the road to the ruins. He remembered the ache in his arms as he dug frozen earth with his axe, the way the corpses no longer looked like threats when laid to rest.

He shook himself, threw a few more sticks on the fire, and sat cross-legged again.

He'd return. Not today—but soon. Whatever stirred beneath that soil wasn't finished.

And neither was he.

End of the 21st chapter.