Sven's cellar is cold despite the summer heat. The three elders sit around the old oak table, tension thick in the air. Ursa's trembling hands arrange her herbs while Gondo's massive frame seems to vibrate with barely contained energy.

"The mist swallowed you completely," Ursa says, her fingers tightening around a cup of now-cold tea. "For a moment, we feared..."

"What happened in there, Sven?" Gondo interrupts, his calloused hands gripping his mead tankard. "I've never seen anything like it."

Sven remains silent, staring at the candle flame.

"Enough of this." Gondo's fist crashes down on the table, making Ursa jump and her herbs scatter. "Twenty years of half-truths and silence. We deserve to know!"

"Was it him?" Ursa presses, leaning forward. "The one you never speak of?"

Something snaps in Sven. He surges to his feet, sending his chair crashing backward. "Yes, damn it! Yes, it was him! It was Yuriel!" The name explodes from him like a curse, his face twisted with two decades of suppressed fury and fear. His hands shake as he braces them against the table. "Are you happy now!?"

The silence that follows is deafening.

"Who is he, Sven?" Ursa asks quietly, gathering her scattered herbs. "What is he?"

Sven sinks back into his righted chair, suddenly looking ancient and worn. "I'm not certain. But I fear..." He swallows hard. "I fear he might be one of the Monarchs of the Upside Down."

Gondo inhales sharply. "A Monarch? Here?"

"It would explain his power. His knowledge of the statue. The way reality itself seems to bend around him." Sven's voice drops to a whisper. "But I can't be sure. No one's ever seen a Monarch and lived to describe them."

"The statue." Gondo's voice turns hard as forge-iron. "You've never told us how you learned its secrets. How you really became village leader." His eyes narrow. "What did you do, Sven?"

Sven's shoulders slump in defeat. "He came to me when the village was dying. Drought had killed our crops, disease was spreading..." He pulls out a black crystal, setting it on the table with trembling hands. "He offered me knowledge. Power. The ability to save everyone."

"What kind of knowledge?" Ursa asks.

"The statue's true nature..." Sven's voice grows quieter, as if afraid the very walls might hear. "They're not just relics or strange artifacts. Each has a specific purpose, a design crafted by The Donor himself."

He places the black crystal on the table with reverent care. "This is what he gave me - a control crystal. With it, I learned the truth. These statues... they're tools. Living machines, you might say. Some are Nullifiers, creating dead zones where magic cannot reach. Others are Anchors, binding reality itself in place. But ours..." He touches the crystal gently. "Ours is a Resonator."

"What does that mean exactly?" Ursa leans forward, her herbs forgotten.

"It amplifies and propagates energy across the land. The Donor's energy." Sven's fingers trace patterns on the crystal's surface. "That's why our crops grow when others fail, why our livestock thrives. The statue takes the divine essence still lingering in our world and... spreads it. Like ripples in a pond."

Gondo's scowl deepens. "And Yuriel taught you this? Just like that?"

"He showed me how to use the crystal, how to direct the statue's power. Each type requires different commands, different rituals. A Resonator needs constant adjustment, fine-tuning to the seasons, to the land itself." Sven's voice takes on a tone of reluctant wonder. "It's intricate work, delicate. One wrong command and the energy could twist, corrupt everything it touches."

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"And what did he want in return?" Ursa's voice is sharp. "You said an heir, but..."

"That's what I assumed at first," Sven admits. "When he spoke of needing someone with Elena's gift. But now..." He rubs his face tiredly. "Now I'm not so sure."

"What do you mean?" Gondo demands.

"Think about it. Why Julie? Why now? Elena could hear the whispers, yes, but she was far from the only one. And Julie..." Sven spreads his hands helplessly. "Yes, she seems more sensitive to them, but we can't even be sure of that. She's young - many children are more attuned to such things."

"Could he want the statue itself?" Ursa suggests. "Perhaps Julie is just... bait?"

"Or knowledge," Gondo adds grudgingly. "These statues - if they're as powerful as you say, their secrets would be valuable."

"Or sacrifices," Ursa whispers. "The old texts speak of rituals requiring innocent blood..."

"When he appeared in the mist," Sven says slowly, "he asked me 'when.' Just that. 'When?' As if..." He falls silent, troubled.

"As if what?" Gondo presses.

"As if there was something specific he was waiting for. Some moment or event. But I don't know what. After all these years, I still don't truly know what he wants."

Gondo moves with shocking speed for such a large man. His fist catches Sven's jaw, sending him sprawling. "You stupid, arrogant fool! You made a deal with a Monarch of the Upside Down?" He towers over Sven, hands clenched. "Without understanding the terms? Put the entire village at risk? Put a child at risk?"

Sven wipes blood from his lip, eyes flashing with sudden anger. "What choice did I have? You remember that winter! The dead children, the empty granaries, the plague!" He struggles to his feet, voice rising. "We were dying, Gondo. All of us!"

"Then we should have died!" Gondo roars, his massive frame seeming to fill the cellar. "Better to die free than live in debt to a Monarch! Do you have any idea what they are? What they do to the souls they claim?"

"I saved us!" Sven shouts back, but something flickers in his eyes - the first seed of doubt.

"Saved us?" Gondo laughs bitterly. "For what? To be pawns in some game we don't understand? To watch our children become bargaining chips with creatures from the dark?" He takes a menacing step forward. "A Monarch, Sven. A fucking Monarch of the Upside Down. The beings that even the Guilds fear to deal with."

"I had to make a choice," Sven's voice wavers slightly. "Someone had to..."

"No," Gondo cuts him off. "You wanted to be the hero. To be remembered as the one who saved Aldenvik. Well congratulations, Elder." The title becomes a curse in his mouth. "You'll be remembered alright - as the fool who sold us all."

His fist lashes out again, but this time Ursa steps between them. "Enough!" Her voice cracks like winter ice. "What's done is done. Now we need to focus on protecting Julie."

Gondo's face twists in disgust. "Protect her? From what? We don't even know what he wants her for!" He turns back to Sven. "Do we, great leader?"

Sven seems to shrink under his gaze. "I... I thought I knew. The heir thing made sense at the time, but now..." He looks down at his hands. "Now I'm not sure of anything."

"Finally, some truth," Gondo spits. He strides to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. "I'll help protect the girl. But after that?" He looks back with cold eyes. "We're done, Sven. All of us."

The door slams behind him, leaving a heavy silence.

Ursa stands motionless, her face a mask of grief and regret. "Elena knew something was wrong," she whispers finally. "All those questions about the statue, about your sudden rise to leadership..." She turns to Sven, eyes bright with unshed tears. "If you had just trusted us... trusted her... maybe she'd still be alive."

"Ursa, I—"

"No." She gathers her scattered herbs with trembling hands. "I don't want to hear it. Twenty years, Sven. Twenty years I've watched you carry this secret, watched it eat at you. And now..." She straightens, suddenly looking every one of her years. "Now I wonder if Elena's death is just the beginning of what we'll pay for your choice."

She leaves more quietly than Gondo, but her soft footsteps seem to echo with finality.

Outside, the summer night wraps around Aldenvik like a shroud. The moon hangs low and heavy, casting long shadows between the sleeping houses. In her bed, Julie turns restlessly, perhaps feeling the weight of decisions made long before her birth.

The village seems peaceful on the surface - prosperous even, with its rich fields and healthy livestock. But now that peace feels like a mask, hiding darker truths. The statue stands silent in its secret chamber, resonating with power that's both salvation and curse. And somewhere in the darkness beyond the forest, something ancient and patient continues its endless wait.

In the cellar, Sven sits alone with his black crystal. Twenty years of certainty crumble around him like autumn leaves, leaving only one question: what does a Monarch of the Upside Down really want with a child who can hear whispers in the dark?

The night offers no answers, only the soft sound of wind in the trees and the distant echo of promises made in desperation, soon to be collected in full.