Morning sunlight filtered through the chapel windows, illuminating the wooden benches in warm gold. The air smelled faintly of old books, incense, and the porridge Sister Helena made every dawn. It was the type of morning that should have felt peaceful.
Instead, it felt… strange.
Mostly because of the girl standing on a stool, staring directly into the sun with narrowed eyes.
Fenwick whispered behind Seren, using him as a shield.
"Why is she looking at sunlight like she wants to fight it?"
Maeve leaned closer to the glass, squinting harder.
"…It's bright."
Seren held back a sigh. "That's how sunlight works."
Fenwick mumbled, "She talks like she's never seen the sun in her life," before stepping back when Maeve suddenly turned around.
Her gaze lingered on the two boys with an intensity no four-year-old should have. But Seren knew better — she wasn't four. Only looked like it.
"Does everyone really wake up this early?" Maeve asked, genuinely confused.
"It's after sunrise," Seren said.
"Oh." She nodded. "So it's late."
Fenwick threw his hands up. "How is that late?!"
Maeve blinked. "I used to start training two hours before sunrise."
Seren's expression tightened. Fenwick's jaw dropped.
Training before sunrise… at her size… with skills like hers…
She wasn't normal. And she wasn't from anywhere near this village.
Sister Helena entered with warm porridge, smiling in her usual gentle way.
"Here, Maeve dear. Eat while it's still warm."
Maeve sniffed it suspiciously.
"…No poison?"
Helena froze mid-step.
"P-poison? Why would there be poison?"
Maeve shrugged as if discussing something mundane. "Someone tried before."
Fenwick choked on his own saliva.
Seren didn't react outwardly, but inside, alarms rang.
She's used to danger. Too used to it.
She finally began eating, though every movement was calculated — efficient, quiet, guarded. Helena rested a hand on her head.
"Maeve… where is your family? We can help you."
Maeve paused.
Seren sensed the shift — her heartbeat spiked, just for a half-second, before settling.
Then she put on a soft, innocent smile that felt too rehearsed.
"I got separated from my brother and sister," she said smoothly. "They'll come for me."
Another lie.
Her heartbeat told the truth.
Fenwick whispered in Seren's ear, "Bro… look at her cloak. That's noble fabric. Like… lord-level rich."
Seren nodded subtly.
Maeve wasn't lost.
She was a runaway.
---
Training at the Forest Edge
After breakfast and chores, Seren made his usual escape to the woods to train. Fenwick caught him halfway, panting.
"You're trying to leave me behind again!"
"You're loud," Seren muttered. "Beasts will hear you."
"They hear you more! You literally explode the air."
Seren ignored him and continued walking.
The Demon Beast Forest loomed nearby — huge, old, dense. They didn't dare go far after yesterday's Tusker incident. Seren stopped at the edge and placed both palms on the ground.
The whole world opened.
Thrum.
Vibrations spread outward like ripples in a pond. Seren breathed deeply, focusing.
Bird wings beating.
Grass bending under small paws.
Insects tunneling beneath the earth.
Wind brushing against bark.
A distant creek vibrating gently.
Every movement had a sound, even without air.
Fenwick watched, amazed and jealous. "You're cheating. No kid should be this good at magic."
"It's not magic," Seren said. "It's control."
He thrust his palm outward.
POP!
A sound burst shook the bushes and sent leaves flying.
Fenwick stumbled back. "Warn me! I felt that in my teeth!"
Seren frowned. "Too big. Not precise enough."
"You almost launched me into a tree!"
Seren inhaled again, concentrating.
He tapped his finger lightly.
tik—
A tiny sound pulse rippled outward gently, bending grass instead of blowing it apart.
Fenwick blinked. "Now it's… small?"
"I need both," Seren said. "Large bursts take too much attention from beasts. Smaller ones help me stay hidden."
Fenwick nodded slowly. "You're terrifying. But like… in a good best-friend way."
They trained until sweat dripped down their faces. Seren practiced sharp bursts, steady waves, and pinpoint pulses. Fenwick punched a tree.
Both felt satisfied.
Then they headed back — unaware of what awaited them at the chapel.
---
The Knights' Visit
Armored men stood outside the chapel entrance. Silver badges. Sword belts. Capes with a noble crest stitched into the fabric.
Maeve stood behind Sister Helena, tiny fingers tightening around her cloak.
Seren immediately tuned into their heartbeats.
Calm. Hard. Trained.
Dangerous.
One knight stepped forward.
"We are searching for a girl. Blond hair. Red cloak. About this height." He gestured low.
Fenwick whispered, "Told you she was nobility-level weirdness…"
Seren elbowed him.
Sister Helena asked politely, "What is her name?"
"We were not told."
The knight avoided eye contact.
Maeve's heartbeat spiked sharply.
Seren's eyes narrowed.
She was terrified of them.
The knight continued, "If the girl passed through here, report it to the lord's estate. A reward will be offered."
The knights left without stepping inside.
The moment their footsteps faded, Maeve let out a shaky breath she had been holding too long. Her hands trembled slightly.
Sister Helena knelt beside her. "Maeve… do you know those men?"
Maeve shook her head immediately. Too fast. Too practiced.
Seren and Fenwick approached.
Fenwick sat cross-legged in front of her. "They scared you. You can't hide that."
Maeve stiffened but didn't speak.
Seren knelt too, voice calm. "You don't have to tell us everything. But we need to know if someone dangerous is chasing you."
Maeve stared at the floor.
"…If I talk," she whispered, "they'll find me faster."
The exhaustion in her voice… didn't belong to a child.
Helena gently placed a hand on her back. "You're safe here. No one will take you unless you choose to go."
Maeve didn't respond.
But she didn't pull away.
That alone spoke volumes.
---
A Mist That Shouldn't Exist
At sunset, the chapel dimmed into orange hues. Seren stepped out back to dump wash water — and froze.
A thin mist crept along the ground, weaving between trees.
Mist shouldn't move with purpose.
It shouldn't slither.
It shouldn't… listen.
But this mist did.
Seren placed his fingertips to the earth.
A cold vibration washed over him.
Not a beast.
Not a villager.
Not natural.
A spell.
Something — someone — was inside it.
Fenwick walked out lazily behind him. "Seren? You look like you just saw a ghost. What—"
Seren grabbed his wrist sharply.
"Get Helena. Now."
Fenwick stared. "What? Why—"
"Go."
His tone made Fenwick sprint without arguing.
The mist recoiled slightly, as if realizing it had been detected.
Seren's heartbeat quickened.
The rumors were true.
The rogue mage who controlled mist — the one who kidnapped children, who manipulated fog into illusions — was real.
And he was close.
Too close.
Maeve wasn't just a runaway.
Someone was hunting her.
---
Nightfall
The chapel doors were locked early. Candles lit the walls with soft amber light. The children slept in groups on blankets.
Fenwick lay beside Seren, wide awake.
Helena prayed softly at the altar.
Maeve curled up under a blanket near the front, but her eyes stayed open — watching the door, trembling faintly.
Seren stayed completely still.
He listened.
Heartbeats.
Breathing.
The creak of old wood.
Crickets outside.
Wind brushing the chapel roof.
Then—
A whisper.
Soft. Cold. Unnatural.
An unknown language drifted from the forest edge.
Low. Rhythmic. Wrong.
Seren's skin crawled.
Magic.
The mist mage was chanting.
And he was moving toward the chapel.
Seren quietly sat up, eyes narrowing.
This world… was growing darker.
And tonight, something terrible was coming for Maeve.