Cir gestures for us to enter. I should feel more hesitant, but my curiosity gets the better of me; perhaps we’ll find some answers here.

  I lift the rough cloth covering the entrance and step into the tent. My eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the dim light, until I can finally make out the interior. It’s simple: a clay vessel in the center, surrounded by cushions and a low bed, along with a few utensils.

  In front of the vessel, seated in a relaxed manner, is a man in his mid-twenties. He wears woven clothing beneath a gray cloak that matches the tone of his skin. His silver hair, tied back in a ponytail, is slightly disheveled, as if he’d just gotten up. His eyes, closed like everyone else’s, don’t stop me from feeling the intensity of his attention as he observes me.

  Alex enters after me, and finally Cir does as well.

  The man and Cir exchange a few lines in their language. Then Cir removes his mask, revealing a youthful face.

  “Huh… I didn’t expect that,” I let slip.

  It’s a woman, perhaps in her twenties, with features very similar to Mir’s, though with a somewhat sterner air. From what I can catch, they seem to be related.

  They talk a bit more, until the man turns toward us with a friendly smile.

  “My name is Ger. This is my clan: the Watchers. And you… are in quite a predicament. The village is divided: half want to bury you, and the other half… aren’t sure. So they sent you to me to talk.”

  His voice echoes directly inside my head. It’s our language, but fluent, flawless, as if he’d practiced it his whole life. It’s similar to what Mir does, but far more precise.

  “I’m Alex, and this is Rob. How is it that you speak the dialect of the Rim? And why did they send us to you?” Alex asks, unable to restrain himself.

  “Is that what you call the language you speak? I don’t speak it… but I understand it,” Ger replies calmly.

  “That makes no sense,” Alex counters. “If I hear you in my mind, how is it that you don’t speak it?”

  “Well… wow, it’s been a long time since I explained this. To put it briefly, my race has the ability to perceive its surroundings and transmit knowledge among ourselves. Imagine a group walking through the forest; the first one trips over a rock and conveys to the others that it’s there. The rest no longer trip.”

  I appreciate the simplified explanation; so that’s how they can move without seeing. I suppose it’s natural in a world without a sun… but it raises new doubts. Can he read my mind? If so, I’ll need to be careful. I slip a hand into my jacket pocket, feeling for an object I keep for emergencies.

  “So you read minds?” Alex jumps in before me.

  “It’s not that extreme. We only share small fragments of information, and only what each of us chooses. That’s how we can move silently through the Great Forest.”

  I let out a breath and remove my hand from my pocket. That explains, at least in part, how they managed to surround us without making a sound.

  “Or that’s how it works for most of us…” his voice echoes in my mind again, accompanied by a smile.

  There’s something about that line—and that smile—that I really don’t like.

  “Most of you?” I ask cautiously.

  “Yes, well… sometimes people are born with better abilities in that regard,” Ger says, running a hand through his hair.

  “Could you be more specific?” I ask, while discreetly starting to open my pocket.

  “Let’s just say I was born with that ability… enhanced. I can send and receive far more information than most, even information others don’t share.”

  “I knew it!” I shout, jumping to my feet.

  I pull out the object I had been keeping hidden, unfold it, and place it on my head.

  “Hmph… I won’t allow anyone to read my thoughts or mess around inside my head,” I declare with absolute confidence.

  “…Rob… why do you have aluminum foil on your head?” Alex asks, in the tone of someone who no longer expects logical answers.

  “Didn’t you hear he can read minds?! Here!” I thrust a piece of foil at him, alarmed. “Put this on before he finishes reading you.”

  “Rob, there’s no proof that works.”

  “Nonsense! There are ancient records: even on Earth, thousands of years ago, people like me used it to protect their minds from attacks,” I explain while trying to jam a foil hat onto his head.

  “Anyway, where did you even get that? They took all our stuff!” he asks, baffled.

  “I kept it in the hidden pocket of my suit,” I reply, pointing to the compartment.

  “Wow, that sounds useful… No, wait. You could hide anything, and you chose to store aluminum foil?” he says, now clearly irritated.

  “Yes. I always carry it, in case someone tries to read my mind.”

  “And what are the odds of that happening?! You could’ve hidden a weapon or something!”

  “We are literally standing in front of a mind-reading being. So who’s the crazy one now?”

  “Still you… for wearing a tinfoil hat.”

  Our little scuffle is interrupted when a voice echoes in my head:

  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing… but it’s not what you imagine.”

  We turn and see Ger watching us with puzzled calm while holding Cir back, she already had a hand on her knives. Oops… well, maybe it did look like we were about to do something dangerous.

  “I told you it wouldn’t work,” Alex mutters as he sits down.

  “It does work,” I reply, adjusting it and sitting as well. “It definitely has something to do with what he said.”

  Ger, ignoring my defense of ancestral knowledge, continues:

  “I can read minds… but people notice. I can’t do it without permission. It would be like stealing something right in front of its owner: in theory, you could… but you’d probably get beaten up.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Hmm…” I admit, scratching my chin. “That does sound reasonable.”

  “I also have a limited range. That’s why my tent is far from the village, and why there’s a circle of rocks around it. Usually, people come to me to settle certain matters… like you.”

  “Wait, wait, wait…” I interrupt, struck by an epiphany. “So you’re a social outcast?”

  “…No. I’m highly valued in my clan,” he replies, somewhat indignant.

  I look at Cir, who makes the universal hand gesture for “more or less.” Ah… I see. I know exactly how that feels.

  “I don’t like that expression,” Ger says, frowning. “Nor what I’m perceiving. But anyway… when someone speaks, their mind produces the information first, and then their mouth turns it into sound. I intercept it at that intermediate point. That’s how I understand what you say, and you hear me in your language because I transmit that information and your brains translate it.”

  “Ahhh… now I get it,” I nod. “Though a red dog could’ve explained it better.”

  Ger ignores me and continues.

  “I can also act as an intermediary and relay information to others… like Cir,” he adds, gesturing toward her.

  “That’s right, he’s been transmitting the entire conversation to me,” we hear Cir’s voice inside our minds.

  “Good. With that clarified… Cir has some questions for you.” Ger takes a step back and starts preparing something in the vessel at the center. He doesn’t light a fire: he puts a white powder into a container of water, covers it with stones, and sets the pot on top. It begins to bubble instantly. Curious…

  I’m about to step closer for a better look when a throat-clearing brings me back to reality.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Cir. I am a hunter and warrior of the Watchers clan. It’s time for you to answer some questions. Is it true that you rescued my sister?”

  “You mean Mir?” I reply, pointing at Alex. “He helped her.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Alex. I found Mir lost in the forest. Is she all right?” he asks, worried.

  “Yes. She’s currently resting at the camp,” Cir explains. “We couldn’t talk much, but she insisted that you were her saviors and that we shouldn’t harm you. Could you tell me what happened?”

  “A couple of nights ago I found her in the forest, being chased by a large golden armor… I think Mir called it a ‘demon,’” Alex answers, downplaying his own feat.

  His humility is usually a virtue… but right now we need to earn their goodwill.

  “Alex rescued her from the clutches of that terrible monster, risking his own life and also—” I begin to narrate with as much drama as possible, but stop when I realize no one is listening to me.

  Ger has gone completely still, a bowl half-slipping from his hands. Cir also looks petrified.

  “…Did you say ‘demon’?” Ger asks, and his voice sounds strangely distorted in my head.

  “Yeah, you know: big, golden, very angry, and almost impossible to kill,” I reply, trying to sound casual.

  “Almost? Are you… saying you killed one?” Cir asks, with a slight stutter.

  The atmosphere has grown heavy, as if the air itself were thinning. Better to be direct.

  “Well… I killed one. I threw it down from the sky and it ended up smashed against a mountain north of here,” I say plainly.

  “And together with my team, we took down another one in space…” Alex adds.

  The cup Ger was holding finally drops and shatters on the floor, spilling its contents. He doesn’t even blink.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, waving a hand in front of their faces.

  Cir slowly turns her head toward Ger, who finally murmurs:

  “They’re not lying…”

  And then he collapses.

  Alex and I look at each other, with absolutely no idea what to do.

  The silence is broken by Cir shouting at us in her language and shaking us by the shoulders. Unfortunately, with our translator out of commission, it all sounds like nothing but noise.

  After a while of clumsy, confusing gestures, we manage to calm her down, wake Ger up, and resume the conversation.

  “I apologize for the outburst,” Cir says, regaining her composure. “We have a long history with the Demons.”

  Aha! Clearly the prelude to a grand quest.

  “Oh, noble hosts,” I declare with all the solemnity I can muster, “share with us your legend, and perhaps our paths shall intertwine in a common purpose.”

  “Rob… why are you talking like that?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow, still trying to process my eccentricities.

  “Shhh, you’re ruining the atmosphere.” I clear my throat, adopting my finest minstrel’s tone. “Pray continue, and let your words flow like wine at a royal feast.”

  Ger and Cir exchange somewhat baffled looks, but continue nonetheless.

  Cir takes a rod and dips it into a container filled with green powder.

  The container piques my curiosity, so I step closer and, through my suit, detect that it’s a substance rich in ether.

  “Wait, Cir… they can’t sense light dust,” Ger warns.

  “Can you transmit it somehow?”

  “Mmm… I’d have to try,” Ger replies, spreading his arms and closing his eyes.

  My vision begins to flicker. I rub my eyes, but it’s useless. Finally, I close them too… and then something glows, not in my eyes, but in my mind.

  The light takes shape: a rod whose tip emits vibrant sparks. Is this how they see the world? It seems their anatomy allows them to perceive the surrounding ether and thus “see.” Fascinating.

  “Many eras ago,” Cir begins, “our ancestors sailed the infinite black sea aboard a gigantic ship, fearing neither the winds nor the fury of the great ocean.”

  The rod traces luminous waves, pierced by a majestic winged vessel.

  “Until one day we encountered the Great Storm…” A crimson, luminous tempest envelops the ship. “We resisted as long as we could, but in the end, we were swallowed by it.”

  The light churns, turbulent, until the ship appears stranded on land.

  “When the vessel was on the verge of destruction, fortune carried us to this world, where we managed to make landfall. The survivors of the disaster began to settle it… unaware of the horrors that dwelled here.”

  The drawings stop.

  “Three demons inhabited this land. The impact of the ship awakened them from their slumber within the great mountain. They began to hunt us and take us to their lair… from which no one ever returned. We tried to fight many times, but we were always defeated. With no options left, we were forced to flee and hide in the farthest corners of the world.”

  The lights sketch scenes of desperate battles and a painful exodus.

  “There are no more cities. Only villages that constantly change their location. We live without making noise, without lighting fires that might betray us, always under the shadow of the mountain. We divided ourselves into small clans as a means of survival, and ours—the Clan of the Watchers—was tasked with observing the mountain and the demons. That has been our mission for generations.”

  The light fades, and I open my eyes.

  “A few days ago,” Cir continues, “the sky trembled and roared without pause. The mountain awakened, and blazing balls of fire fell upon the planet. In the midst of the chaos, my sister was lost in the forest. And now, suddenly, two strangers appear with her—strangers we cannot sense—who also claim to have killed two of the three demons. So if we lose our composure a little… I believe it’s justified.”

  Ger nods silently behind her.

  Hmm… I see now. The golden armors are their ultimate enemies, almost mythical figures, fated to hunt and torment their people. To them, killing one would be like toppling some kind of evil god.

  “It may be hard to believe, but we’re telling the truth,” I clarify seriously.

  “Then… you can kill them? Does that mean that if you finish off the last one, we’ll finally be free of our great enemy?” Ger asks, a glimmer of hope shining through.

  Wait… last? Something doesn’t add up.

  “No, no… there are still three left,” I correct him.

  “…But didn’t you say you killed two?” Cir asks, confused.

  “We took down two, but…” I begin to explain.

  “Two more were born,” Alex interjects.

  “Born? Impossible. For centuries there have always been three, without exception,” they assure us.

  I mull over their words. Until now, the number had never changed… though, of course, no one had ever killed one before. Could it be that there must always be three because of some strange rule? Or maybe they need an armor as a medium? After all, I haven’t seen any golden people running around.

  “Well… I can’t explain it yet, but yes, we killed two and two more appeared. Even so, our goal is to reach the mountain and finish what we started.”

  “I understand. I’ll have to discuss this with the rest of the village. One last thing… can you tell me what you are and where you came from?” Ger asks.

  It’s a reasonable question… though I’m not sure how much we should reveal.

  “Of course, how rude of us,” Alex replies without thinking twice. “We come from the Kingdom of Altar, and we arrived here from outside the Storm. Our ship was dragged in as well, just like in your story.”

  Is he an idiot? He spilled everything without hesitation. I glare at him.

  Despite their initial surprise, Ger and Cir process the information faster than I expected; it seems they’ve had more than enough astonishment for one day.

  “So, to summarize,” Cir says with a sigh: “two beings who came from outside the Storm claim to have killed two demons… but at the same time, two others were born, and now they want to go to the mountain looking for trouble. It’s going to be difficult to defend your case; or even get anyone to believe it.”

  “I can testify that it’s true, using my ability,” Ger interjects.

  “I think that even with that, it’ll be complicated this time… but we’ll do what we can to support your story,” Cir assures us.

  Before I can add anything else, a thunderous roar shakes the entire forest—deep and prolonged, as if the earth itself had growled.

  “It’s coming from outside,” Alex warns.

  We rush out of the tent. The roars now resound more strongly, all coming from the same direction. When we look up toward the mountain, we see three golden silhouettes shooting into the sky at incredible speed.

  “…The demons have gone out hunting,” Cir whispers, her face dark.