The village welcomed them back with cautious gratitude, the surviving elders offering a modest feast in the hunters' honor. The air was heavy with the scent of roasted meat and spiced ale, though the villagers’ cheer was subdued. Losing so many of their kin had left scars that no celebration could erase.

Kaelen, Sigrid, and Nessa sat at a small table in the corner of the hall, their plates filled and tankards brimming. Nessa, for all her complaints of exhaustion, seemed in better spirits now, eagerly tearing into her meal.

“Not bad for peasant fare,” she mumbled between bites.

Kaelen smirked, sipping his ale. “You’re easily impressed.”

Sigrid, meanwhile, toyed with her food, her gaze distant. Kaelen noticed the way her hand lingered near her dagger, fingers tapping absently on the hilt.

“Still wound up?” he asked, keeping his tone light.

Her silver eyes flicked to him. “A little,” she admitted. “Something about that beast didn’t feel right. The way it moved, the way it reacted to my magic... it was as if it had been made to counter us.”

Kaelen’s expression darkened, her words striking a chord he hadn’t yet voiced. “You’re not wrong. It wasn’t just some random creature from the wilds.”

Nessa glanced between them, her chewing slowing. “Great. So now we’ve got someone—or something—making monsters. Just what we needed.”

Kaelen leaned back in his chair, his hand idly tracing the rim of his tankard. “Whoever’s behind it knows what they’re doing. That thing was smart, too smart for a beast.”

Sigrid nodded, her jaw tightening. “This isn’t over. If there’s one, there could be more.”

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The mood at the table shifted, the brief respite of the feast overshadowed by the weight of their conversation.

“On that cheery note,” Kaelen said, forcing a grin, “I’m going to get some air.”

He rose from the table, leaving his tankard half-full, and stepped outside. The village square was quiet, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the night breeze.

Sigrid found him leaning against the well, staring up at the stars. She hesitated, watching him for a moment before approaching.

“You’re not much for parties, are you?” she said, her voice breaking the silence.

Kaelen glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “Not when there’s still work to do.”

She crossed her arms, studying him. “Your eyes earlier… that wasn’t normal.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I figured you’d bring that up sooner or later.”

“I’m not prying for the sake of it,” she said, her tone softening. “If there’s something I need to know, something that could affect the job—or the rest of us—I’d rather hear it from you.”

Kaelen hesitated, the tension in his posture betraying his thoughts. Finally, he spoke, his voice low.

“It’s part of the training. The school I came from… they didn’t just teach us how to swing a sword or track a beast. They pushed us to the edge—body, mind, everything. The sight you saw? It’s one of the things I learned. It lets me see in the dark, pick out details most people can’t. Useful when you’re hunting things that don’t want to be found.”

Sigrid frowned, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying. “And the cost?”

Kaelen’s lips curved into a humorless smile. “Always so perceptive. Let’s just say it’s not the kind of thing you can turn off. Even when I’m not fighting, the world looks… different. It’s like living in two realities at once.”

Sigrid was silent for a moment, digesting his words. “That’s why you’re so good at what you do. But it also explains the way you… keep your distance.”

Kaelen’s eyes met hers, and for once, there was no trace of his usual sarcasm. “It’s easier that way.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze steady. “For now, I’ll leave it at that. But if we’re going to keep working together, you’ll need to trust me eventually.”

Kaelen chuckled softly, the sound almost bitter. “Trust doesn’t come easy, Sigrid. Not for people like us.”

“Maybe not,” she said, stepping closer, “but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

They stood in silence for a while, the night stretching around them like a living thing.

The next morning, the hunters prepared to leave the village. The elders had offered them supplies and a modest payment, though their gratitude was tempered by grief.

Kaelen secured his gear, glancing at Sigrid as she checked the straps on her pack. Nessa leaned against a cart nearby, her expression unusually somber.

“So,” Nessa said, breaking the silence, “what’s the plan? We heading back to town, or are we diving straight into the next nightmare?”

Kaelen shrugged. “Let’s see where the road takes us. Something tells me the nightmares will find us either way.”

Sigrid shot him a dry look. “You have a way of making everything sound so uplifting.”

He grinned, his usual cockiness returning. “It’s a gift.”

With that, they set off, the road stretching ahead of them like an open wound. Though none of them said it aloud, the shadow of the beast—and the mystery behind it—lingered in their minds.

And somewhere, far from the light of the rising sun, another monster stirred.