The forest lay cloaked in early morning mist, soft tendrils curling around tree trunks and weaving through the undergrowth like whispered secrets. The campsite was silent but for the distant calls of waking birds and the faint crackle of dying embers from the night's fire. Shafts of golden light began piercing the canopy above, dappling the mossy ground where their makeshift camp sat nestled.
Saanvi stirred first, rising from her bedroll with a quiet groan. She wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and stepped away from the camp to stretch. As she moved through the trees a little, she could feel the silence of the forest breathing around her—calm, but heavy, as if holding its breath.
Devran, ever alert even in sleep, opened his eyes next. He sat up and reached for his sword, checking the edge by habit. Tianlan was curled up, still fast asleep, his face buried under his arm. Xie Lian meditated not far away, his breath measured and steady, while Wei Zhan muttered something incoherent in his sleep and turned over.
Vihaan, silent and watchful, was already awake, seated cross-legged against the base of a tree. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't meditating. He was listening. Feeling. Always listening.
Riku, sprawled in a tangled mess of limbs and blanket near the fire pit, finally stirred as Devran kicked a loose pebble his way.
"Rise and shine, Riku," Devran called, stretching. "We're burning daylight."
Riku groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. "What's the rush? The trees aren't going anywhere. Can't we pretend it's still night for a while?"
Tianlan blinked awake at the sound and groaned as he sat up. "Ugh, please don't start being annoying already."
"I'm not annoying," Riku grinned as he sat up, hair sticking out in every direction. "I'm charmingly difficult."
Saanvi returned to the group with a small armful of herbs and a thoughtful look on her face. "The forest feels different today. Like it's waiting."
"Or watching," Vihaan murmured without opening his eyes.
The others exchanged glances, and for a moment, no one spoke. The silence that followed seemed to echo Vihaan's words.
Then Devran broke it with a light scoff. "Whatever it's doing, we need to decide where we're heading next. We can't keep wandering without direction."
Saanvi looked at Riku, who was now poking at the embers of the fire with a stick. "You said you know these woods. What's beyond the eastern ridge?"
Riku blew on the stick dramatically before answering. "East? Hmm. If memory serves me—and it usually does, when it's in the mood—beyond that ridge is the edge of the Whispering Vale. Old ruins, lots of wind, very dramatic."
"Is that where the trail to the next village is?" Xie Lian asked.
Riku shrugged. "Depends on where you want to go. But you know," he said, pausing with a sly grin, "if you're looking for direction, maybe we should be asking about the Master."
The group went quiet again.
Devran narrowed his eyes. "You've mentioned that before. What do you know about this Master everyone keeps talking about?"
Saanvi tilted her head. "Yes, you've danced around it. But who is this Master? Do you actually know anything, Riku, or are you just spouting rumors again?"
Riku looked mock-offended. "Spouting rumors? Saanvi, I am a collector of tales, a gatherer of whispers!"
"A glorified gossip," Tianlan muttered.
But Saanvi pressed on. "Tell us anyway. Even rumors have roots in something."
Riku sobered a little, and his grin faded into something more thoughtful. He leaned back, staring up at the dappled sky above.
"They say the Master is not one person," he began slowly. "Or at least, not just a man. He's a shadow in stories, appearing in different times and places, teaching lost arts, saving villages, disappearing again. No name, no home. Only deeds."
Wei Zhan scoffed. "Sounds like a myth."
Riku nodded. "Maybe. But then why are so many people looking for him? I've met treasure hunters, mercenaries, even high priests who came out of temples in search of him. They think he's real."
Xie Lian leaned forward. "What kind of teachings does he offer?"
"That depends on who you ask," Riku replied. "Some say he teaches divine techniques. Others say he can awaken powers locked in the soul. There's one tale from the Northern Tundra, about a boy who was mute all his life until the Master spoke three words to him. After that, he sang songs that made the dead weep."
Tianlan blinked. "Seriously?"
"Cross my heart," Riku said, drawing an X over his chest. "And I've heard darker things too. That he's ancient. That he walks the line between heaven and something deeper. Some say he fell from the celestial realms, others that he chose exile."
A strange silence fell again.
Devran tapped his fingers on his sword hilt. "Does anyone know what he looks like?"
Riku shook his head. "No. That's the weird part. People who claim to have met him remember the way he made them feel—awed, afraid, changed. But no one ever remembers his face clearly. Like... a dream you almost grasp, but it slips away."
Saanvi was quiet, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "That sounds... vaguely familiar."
Vihaan, listening quietly nearby, opened his eyes, but said nothing. His face was unreadable, as always.
Tianlan snorted. "Sounds like a lot of stories to me. Probably some old hermit with flashy tricks."
Riku shrugged. "Maybe. But here's the part that gets me. The latest tale I heard was from a merchant in Daogun Pass. He swore on his mother's grave that the Master was seen not long ago... walking these very woods. Disappearing into the mist, just like that."
Everyone froze.
Xie Lian frowned. "These woods? Recently?"
"Mmhmm," Riku nodded, suddenly very serious. "Said he saw a figure wrapped in gray, eyes like stars, passing through without a sound. The next day, his sick wife woke up cured."
"Convenient," Wei Zhan muttered, though there was less confidence in his voice now.
Saanvi looked around at the trees, her gaze sharpened. "Maybe we're closer to something than we think."
Vihaan looked toward the east. His expression gave nothing away.
Riku chuckled suddenly. "Or maybe we're all chasing ghosts. But ghosts or not, if this Master really is around here, wouldn't it be fun to find him?"
Devran gave him a wry smile. "Fun's not the word I'd use."
"Then what is?" Riku asked.
Devran paused. "Necessary."
Tianlan leaned back and sighed. "And here I was hoping for a normal journey."
"With this group?" Riku laughed. "Darling, we passed normal several forests ago."
The morning slowly warmed, birdsong rising into a crescendo. The forest no longer felt so silent—but it didn't feel safe either.
And as they packed their things and prepared for the road ahead, one thought lingered in all their minds:
Who is the Master, really? And why does it feel like they're already close?