Lin vanished.
For days I stared at the fading spiral she had drawn on my palm, wondering why she trusted me—wondering what the mark meant at all. The gray streets of Oustaria offered no answers. I counted sunrises, telling myself the silence was normal here, but the emptiness felt heavier with each hour she stayed away.
Then, one night, familiar knuckles tapped my door—two short knocks, the pattern only she used.
I opened it to her quiet smile.
Without a word she led me through ruins I'd never explored, weaving between toppled pillars and pale bones half‑buried in ash until we reached a hollow pocket of broken walls. A small fire burned low. Around it waited a handful of figures, faces half‑hidden, hands already moving in quick, silent speech.
The Silent Ones.
Lin signed toward them. I caught fragments—hear, speak, able—but my grasp of their language was still weak. They watched me with curiosity and caution.
Seeing my confusion, Lin produced a scrap of paper and a shard of charcoal. She wrote slowly, letting the firelight guide her strokes:
The old man who gave you your room believes you are our salvation.
The wall chose you.
You will break the curse and protect the people.
Find the notebook and their joy will begin.
The spiral on your hand is trust between us—between you and me.
I read the words twice, stunned. A savior? Me? Yet there was something in Lin's steady smile that pulled me forward, made the impossible feel near.
When the meeting ended she walked me back through the shattered maze, then melted into the night once more.
Determined to prove—or disprove—her faith, I returned to Wall Twelve at dawn. My fingers traced every crack, hunting for the mysterious notebook the Silent Ones believed would break their curse.
That was when I sensed movement above.
A dark outline perched on a rooftop, watching.
I sprinted for the nearest ladder. The figure fled, hurdling gaps, skidding across loose tiles. I followed—leaping, scrambling, refusing to lose sight. At the final rooftop he turned, as if weighing a secret he couldn't share, then flung himself into the void.
I climbed down to the alley where he had fallen. His body lay twisted on stone, life already slipping away. I recognized his face—one I'd seen beside Lin's fire.
A Silent One.
Blood darkened the spiral tattoo behind his ear.
My pulse hammered.
Lin had warned me: We are watched.
Had he been guarding me—or guiding me? I had no breath left to ask.
The mystery of the spiral only deepened, and the wall's silence felt heavier than ever.
Whatever the Silent Ones expected of me, the game had already begun.
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