The air within the cave felt thick—not with suffocation, but with silence that had lingered far too long. Drops of water echoed softly from the rocky walls, like the ticking of time they could never catch up to.
Before the altar, Caeltharyn sat cross-legged. His slender fingers touched the stone surface where ancient Runes were etched, tracing each groove with mindful precision. The light from a spring in the corner shimmered gently, reflecting faces that had begun to lose the colors of life.
"This symbol… is not our language," Cael murmured without turning. His voice was soft, yet enough to make the two sitting nearby lift their heads.
"Cael… you've been staring at it like you want to devour it," said Izdhar, one of the few still calm, though his eyes betrayed a tightly held unrest.
Cael nodded slowly. "Because I must. Someone has to try to understand this. Or we'll die in a foreign land without meaning."
Behind them, footsteps approached. Shalina, one of the few who had survived the illusion of the evil spirits, carried tattered cloths soaked in water from the spring. She placed them beside the bodies still lying weak and motionless.
"Some of them are starting to wake," she said briefly, a faint smile softening her weary face.
But Cael did not smile. His gaze remained fixed on the Rune. There, among the rough carvings that seemed randomly assembled, he sensed something—an allure. Not a call, but more like... a shadow of a memory yet to be born.
"If this isn't a human language," he muttered to himself, "then it must be the language of the world."
Shalina turned. "What do you mean?"
"It doesn't need to be read… it must be felt. Like a law, or like… fate."
They fell silent. Cael's words, though vague, carried a depth that was difficult to grasp. Yet there was something in his tone they could not ignore.
Far outside the cave, the sandstorm had subsided, but the sky remained gloomy. The moonlight of this alien world slipped through cracks in the ruined cave, illuminating the ground in a shade that was neither white nor blue, but rather the shadow of light itself.
"Do you think this Rune can take us home?" asked Izdhar, his tone deeper now.
"No," Cael replied. "But it might point the way. Maybe not the way home… but a path more important than that."
Shalina leaned back against a boulder. "A path to survive, perhaps."
They fell silent once more.
In the distant shadows beyond the cave, a pair of eyes watched them. Lidless, shapeless. It could not enter, could not approach. But it waited. Waiting for the first crack to appear.
---
When night turned to morning—or something that resembled it—Cael was still seated before the altar. He had tried several times to activate the Rune, channeling energy, structuring thoughts, but it remained cold and silent. Like a tombstone awaiting the right prayer.
"I think… we need more than just strength," he whispered to himself.
Shalina approached. "Maybe we need to ask."
"Ask whom?"
"The world," she said lightly.
And for the first time, Cael turned and gave a faint smile. "That's exactly what I'm doing."
---
An hour later, some of those who had collapsed began to awaken. But it wasn't because their strength had returned. It was hunger and thirst that pulled them back—sharp and merciless.
A student named Dayan—once quiet and often at the back of the class in the old world—slowly opened his eyes. His face was pale, cold sweat dampened his brow, but his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the cave with a haunting emptiness.
"We're… still here?" his voice cracked.
Izdhar helped him sit up. "Yeah. You're alive. You woke up."
Dayan turned slowly, then looked down at his hands. He blinked, as if trying to confirm reality.
"I was… dreaming. In it, I was someone important. Wealthy. Influential. Everyone listened to me. But… why did it hurt?"
Cael didn't turn, but he heard everything. He knew—the spirits didn't just deceive, they drained the deepest desires… and left behind only hollowness once the illusion broke.
"Because that wasn't the life you chose," he murmured, more to himself.
Dayan didn't understand, but the words felt like a truth too heavy to bear.
Elsewhere in the cave, two other students—Nayaka and Tia—spoke quietly. They sat near the spring, washing their faces and easing the burning in their throats.
"Do you think all of this is coincidence?" Nayaka asked, staring into the water reflecting his thinning face.
Tia shook her head. "No. But… it's as if we were lured here to confront ourselves."
"And who would want that?"
Tia glanced toward Cael. "Maybe not a who. But a what."
Near the altar, Cael closed his eyes. For a moment, his mind wandered back to the conversation with the cave's guardian spirit. A voice with no form, yet deeper than a hundred books.
"Those who understand the world need no answers. Those who seek meaning will never be satisfied by it."
He breathed deeply. The cave walls, the altar stone, and the Rune before him… they all held riddles not meant to be solved in a day. But he knew one thing—they were all connected. Even the watcher beyond… was part of a larger game.
"We must gather strength before we leave," he suddenly said.
Shalina turned. "Leave? But we don't know the way. Even our food is limited."
Cael stood slowly. "We must try. There's a power in this cave we don't yet understand. But the world won't wait for us to understand. The world… keeps moving."
His voice, though calm, carried an air of certainty.
Shalina gave a faint smile. "I think some of us are starting to follow your thinking."
"I'm not asking them to follow," Cael replied. "I'm simply… showing the possibility."
Outside the cave, the watcher remained.
But it still could not enter.
And for Cael, that was enough—for now.
---
Night slowly fell, cloaking the cave's mouth in cold mist and whispers from a world unknown. A small fire was lit by those still able to move, while others sat against the cave walls, eyes blank—as if their souls were still trapped in shattered dreams.
Cael sat not far from the altar. His hand touched the stone's surface, caressing the carvings of the Rune he still could not understand. In his mind, a single question echoed: what is this world trying to show me?
From behind the enclosing stone walls, a faint sound emerged. Not a rumble, nor dripping water. But… a beat. Slow, but steady. Like the breath of something long asleep, now stirring with awareness of its unwelcome guests.
Suddenly, the wind within the cave halted. Several people exchanged glances. The fire flickered, as if touched by an invisible hand.
Shalina bit her lip. "You feel it too?"
Cael didn't reply. He only stared into the darkness at the edge of the cave.
"There's something… that knows we're here," he said flatly.
Then he stood, slowly. His gaze swept across them all—those half-broken, half-alive, unsure if they'd ever see another sunrise.
"Tomorrow," he said calmly, "we will try to activate this Rune. Not because we know how—but because we must find meaning in our presence here."
He paused for a breath.
"Because if we don't… we are merely prey for those who watch in the dark."
And that night, for the first time, not one of them could truly sleep.