Claire's scream pierces the silence of night, echoing through the underground chamber. The three elders freeze mid-conversation.

"By the heavens, let's see what's happening," Ursa whispers, already moving toward the stairs.

Sven extinguishes the torches while Gondo secures the ancient seals on the statue. Their movements are swift and practiced. Within moments, they're climbing back up through the trapdoor, its closing barely audible beneath another distant cry.

In the darkness of their rooms, Mira and Rosso stir at the commotion. Voices and footsteps echo through the village streets.

"Mother, what's happening?" Mira asks, already reaching for her cloak. "Can we help?"

"No," her mother says firmly, pushing her back toward her bed. "Stay inside. Your father will join the search. This is not for children."

"But Julie is our friend!" Rosso protests from his room.

"I said no. Now stay put, both of you."

Sven has just finished arranging the heavy rug when urgent pounding shakes the door.

"Who's there?" he calls out, as Ursa and Gondo take their positions.

"Sven! By the Donor's grace, open the door!" Edwin's voice carries raw desperation through the wood.

Sven opens the door to find Julie's father, his gentle face twisted with terror. "Julie," he gasps. "She's disappeared... in the woods... Claire told us a strange mist swallowed her and she couldn't find her anymore."

The blood in Sven's veins turns to ice. "What?" The word comes out as a strangled whisper.

"We've searched near the village," Edwin continues, running a trembling hand through his hair. "And then... those sounds from the woods..." His voice breaks.

Sven exchanges a look with Ursa and Gondo. Twenty years of shared secrets weigh in that glance. "We'll find her," he says firmly. "Gather everyone at the village square. Now."

Within minutes, the square fills with villagers carrying torches and makeshift weapons. Sven surveys the crowd, his mind already mapping the forest. "Listen carefully," his voice cuts through the murmurs. "We'll split into four groups. Gondo, take the northern paths with your men. Ursa, the eastern slopes. Edwin, you and your group search the western ridge." He points to each area as he speaks. "I'll lead the search through the southern woods, where Claire last saw her."

He assigns specific signals - three short whistles for danger, one long for discovery. The groups separate, torchlight splintering into the darkness like scattered stars.

Sven leads his group along the southern path, watching the treeline. The whispers - those ancient, terrible whispers he knows too well - grow stronger with each step. Then he sees it: an unnatural mist creeping between the trees, too dense, too purposeful.

"Stay here," he orders his group. "If I'm not back in an hour, return to the village."

"But Elder—" someone protests.

"That's an order."

Sven steps into the mist alone. The fog swallows sound and light, leaving him in a world of shifting grays. Every instinct screams at him to turn back, but he presses forward. Then he sees her.

Julie stands in a small clearing, still as a statue. The weak moonlight that penetrates the mist reflects unnaturally in her amethyst eyes, as if something inside her is glowing. She moves strangely, like a puppet moved by invisible strings.

"Julie," he calls softly, careful not to startle her. "Whatever you're hearing, it's not real. Come back to us."

She turns toward him with mechanical movements. "I hear them," she says, her voice seeming to come from another world. "The whispers... they're so beautiful..."

For a long moment, his words seem to fall into void. Then, as if a spell has broken, the unnatural light in Julie's eyes dies out. She blinks in confusion, suddenly nothing more than a frightened child in the night.

But it isn't over. The mist thickens, becoming almost solid around them. Sound dies completely, as if the world itself is holding its breath.

That's when he appears.

A figure emerges from the mist, its presence so oppressive that the air itself seems to thicken. Sven feels the weight of buried memories rise to the surface of his mind...

Sven steps between me and the figure in the mist, pulling me into his arms. He turns me gently, pressing my face against his shoulder so I can't see behind him. But I feel him sink to his knees, feel the tremor that runs through his body. The air grows so cold it burns.

Flashback

The underground chamber was lit only by the faint flickering light of a solitary torch. Sven, younger but already marked by worries, stood before the statue when he felt it - that impossible presence that made his hair stand on end.

"Your village is dying, Sven," said a voice behind him, melodious as a funeral song. "Drought devours the crops, diseases decimate the livestock... soon nothing will remain but dust and bones."

Sven turned slowly. The being before him was terrifying in its beauty - too perfect, too sharp, like a painting by a mad master. "Who... what are you?"

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"My name is Yuriel," the being smiled, its teeth gleaming unnaturally in the torchlight. "And I can help you. I can save your precious village from ruin."

"How?" The word escaped before Sven could stop it.

"I will show you the secrets of the statue," said Yuriel, making a fluid gesture toward the ancient artifact. "I will teach you to use its power to protect Aldenvik. But remember, Sven..." His smile widened. "Everything has its price. When the time comes, I will return to collect what is mine."

With the weight of his dying village on his shoulders, Sven nodded. "I'll do it. Whatever it takes."

End flashback

"When?" A voice cuts through the mist like ice, unlike anything I've ever heard before.

"This is not the time," Sven says, his arms tightening around me. "Not yet."

"When?" The voice repeats, relentless.

"Soon," Sven whispers, and I feel the defeat in his voice. "Very soon."

The cold suddenly lifts, like a weight being removed from the world. But Sven remains frozen, kneeling in the mud, his breathing shallow and quick.

"Elder Sven?" I push against his chest, trying to see his face. "Elder Sven! You're scaring me!"

My voice seems to shake him from whatever trance grips him. He looks down at me, his eyes gradually focusing.

"Julie, listen to me carefully," he says, his voice gentle but firm. "What happened tonight... the whispers you heard... you must forget them. Don't talk about them with anyone, not even Claire, not even your parents. It's very important. Do you promise me?"

I nod slowly, still trembling. "I promise."

Elder Sven rises slowly from his knees, still keeping me close. When Father runs into the clearing, his face is white as milk. "Julie!" His voice breaks as he reaches for me.

"She's alright," Elder Sven says softly, passing me into Father's trembling arms. "Just frightened, but she needs rest"

Father clutches me against his chest so tight I can barely breathe. I can feel him shaking. Or maybe I'm the one shaking. It's hard to tell anymore.

"My baby," he whispers into my hair. "My little girl..."

The walk home feels like forever. Father carries me the whole way even though I'm probably too big for that now. I don't mind. His heartbeat sounds like home, like safety, like everything those whispers weren't.

Mom bursts through our front door before we even reach it. "Julie!" She's crying and laughing at the same time, covering my face with kisses. "Oh thank the heavens, thank the heavens..."

They bring me inside, fussing over me like I'm sick. Mom makes hot milk with honey while Father wraps me in every blanket we own.

"Are you sure you're alright, sweetheart?" Mom smooths my hair back, checking for fever like she always does. "Do you want some tea instead? Or maybe some soup?"

I shake my head, clutching the warm mug of milk. "I'm okay. Just tired."

"Do you want to sleep in our bed tonight?" Mom asks softly. "Or I could stay with you in yours?"

"No, I..." The words stick in my throat. I want to tell them everything. About the whispers, about Elder Sven, about that voice in the mist. But I promised. "I just want to sleep in my own bed. Please?"

They exchange worried looks but don't argue. Mom tucks me in with extra care, kissing my forehead three times like when I was little. "We'll be right down the hall if you need us," she whispers. "Just call and we'll come running."

After they leave, I lie awake staring at the ceiling. Every creak makes me jump, every whisper of wind sounds like those voices from the mist. Even under my favorite quilt, tucked in extra tight by Mom, I can't stop shivering.

I press my face into my pillow, trying to sort through everything that happened. The dragon-lizard this morning feels like it happened years ago. Was that really today? It's hard to believe I was chasing it through the gardens with Claire, back when everything was normal.

Claire. My fingers clutch the blanket tighter. The look on her face when that mist grabbed me... I've never seen her so scared. And now I can't even tell her what happened, because I promised Elder Sven. My best friend probably thinks I'm crazy, and I can't explain why I'm not.

I roll onto my side, hugging my stuffed rabbit tight. The statue under Elder Sven's house - how long has it been there? And those whispers... they called me "Child of the veil." What does that even mean? A shudder runs through me as I remember that voice in the mist. Not the whispers, but that other voice. The one that made Elder Sven kneel.

I sit up suddenly, remembering something else. Finn. Everything with Finn feels so small now, after what happened in the mist. But when I pushed him... that wasn't like me. I hug my knees to my chest. Maybe he was right about me being different. Maybe I am changing into something... else.

I reach over and light the candle Mom left on my nightstand. Its warm glow should make me feel better, but the flame casts new shadows that make my heart skip. For a second, they look like that strange mist, creeping across my floor…

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to focus on normal things. Tomorrow Mom will make breakfast like always. Dad will read the weather signs and talk about the crops. Claire will probably come by to check on me. Everything will be normal.

But even as I think it, I know it's not true. Nothing will be normal again. Because now I know there are whispers in the darkness. Now I know there are statues that shouldn't exist and mists that move with purpose. Now I know Elder Sven has secrets that make him kneel in fear.

I lie back down, pulling the blanket over my head like I used to do when I was little and scared of thunderstorms. But this isn't something I can hide from. The whispers found me once - they'll find me again. Elder Sven knows it too. That's why he made me promise to keep quiet.

"Soon," Elder Sven had said to that voice. "Very soon."

A chill runs down my spine. What scares me most isn't the whispers or the mist or even that terrible voice. What scares me most is that I'm starting to think I know what "soon" means.

And I don't think I'm ready.

I close my eyes, but sleep feels impossibly far away. All I can do is lie here in the dark, listening to the night sounds of our village, wondering which ones are normal and which ones are something else entirely. Wondering if anyone else is lying awake too, keeping secrets in the darkness.

But I'm too tired to be properly scared anymore. I need to sleep.

My eyes drift closed as sleep finally comes. Tomorrow can worry about itself.