Even within the village, the silence remained unchanged. Only the usual people were outside—those returning from work, tending market stalls, or looking to buy something. Few ventured out just to wander. The fact that he and Kale were doing so gave Osen a vague feeling of unease. Not nervousness, exactly—just uncertainty.

Kale, on the other hand, strolled with a relaxed expression, occasionally offering a small smile to passersby. Some greeted him in return, others ignored him, and many gave him odd looks. Yet none of it seemed to bother him—he insisted on being friendly, just as he had been when Osen first spoke to him.

The silence between them was almost inevitable, given the quiet streets. Kale's smiles were the only silent acknowledgment of those around them. Breaking the stillness with conversation would have drawn unwanted attention. Neither of them wanted that. And so, they walked side by side through the near-empty streets, their footsteps crunching softly on the gravel, until they reached the village library.

This old building was quite large compared to the rest in the village, though it bore more damage because of its size. Behind the counter sat an elderly woman, absorbed in her own book, paying no attention to anyone. Theft wasn't an issue here—most of the villagers couldn't read anyway. Even Osen's ability to read came only from his parents, who had originally moved to Alderfell from the capital of Verelium.

Suddenly, Kale gave him a light tap on the shoulder.

"Want to go in?" he asked neutrally.

It was no coincidence they had stopped in front of the library. Reading had always been one of Osen's few pleasures, a quiet escape from Alderfell's heavy silence. After his shifts, he often came to this very place, sometimes with Kale. To him, books were essential—they taught him lessons he never heard from others, showed him worlds beyond the snowy peaks, and, at times, confronted him with truths harsher than any he had faced in real life. In their pages, he found fragments of what had been stolen from him the night his parents disappeared.

After a brief silence, Osen nodded and stepped inside, with Kale following close behind.

The interior was just as old as the outside. Dust clung to every surface, and cobwebs hung in nearly every corner. Some shelves were so crammed with books that many had spilled onto the floor, forming giant towers. The air smelled of aged paper and cold wood, the kind of smell that felt both comforting and forgotten.

"Shame there aren't more people who can read. This place would be a hit," Kale whispered.

His voice carried a note of genuine curiosity. Even he understood that this place had history.

Osen just silently agreed. Despite Alderfell's remoteness, the library still housed a surprisingly large collection of books and while they were useless to most, Osen valued them greatly.

Together, they made their way to the counter.

"Welcome," greeted the old librarian curtly, not lifting her gaze from the pages of her book. Kale returned the greeting with a nod he knew she wouldn't see, while Osen drifted toward the shelves without a word.

His eyes gleamed faintly as he scanned the rows of stories, his steps growing slower as he searched. There, amid the dust and shadows, his joy was unmistakable—an unguarded moment of lightness that he rarely let anyone see.

Arriving at his usual spot in the library, Osen scanned the area for something interesting. From cookbooks to grim tales, everything seemed to be here. Kale joined him, though he showed no interest in the books. Instead, he sat down on one of the chairs and watched Osen with an air of boredom.

"I don't get what you see in these papers," Kale sighed, though it didn't seem like he expected an answer. Osen glanced at him briefly and smiled, his expression filled with a strange sense of pity, even to the point where a tear almost formed in his eye.

What a poor soul, he thought before continuing his search.

After a few minutes of browsing, Osen's eyes fell on an old book.

Beasts of the North...

It seemed to be a collection of information about creatures the author had documented. Osen knew his world had such beings—there was a reason why so many fighters lived in the village. Yet, he had never seen or heard of them himself, making it hard for him to believe they truly existed.

Kale, who had been on the verge of dozing off, lifted his head and noticed the book. Tilting his head curiously, he asked, "What's that old thing? Are you trying to learn curses or something?"

"It's about the monsters in the forest," Osen replied, his focus still on the page he was reading. His brow furrowed slightly before he added, "This chapter is about something called the Nightshade."

Kale stood up and peered over his shoulder, his eyes now full of curiosity.

"So these are the enemies the guards have to fight? I'd take one of these down easily," Kale laughed.

Osen smiled but added, "They hunt in packs, though. Could you handle several at once?"

"Trust me, they have no idea who they'd be dealing with. If they want trouble, I'll do things to them they couldn't even imagine," Kale said, his hand resting confidently on the hilt of his sword.

"Sure, sure," Osen chuckled, shaking his head. Kales Augen zogen sich zusammen.

"I sense a hint of doubt in my abilities, but no matter—just wait. One day, when the village is under attack, I'll tear the enemies apart!" Kale stretched, placed a hand on his chest, and made an exaggerated gesture. Then, relaxing, he added, "Even if they look like something out of a nightmare."

Osen turned his gaze back to the book, his eyes falling on the illustration. The Nightshade resembled a wolf, but there was no fur to be seen. Its entire body was an almost black silhouette, with bright, glowing white eyes. No pupils were visible, making the emptiness in them unsettling.

"True," Osen said after a moment of thought. "They really don't look friendly."

"I'd rather avoid them altogether," he added. Before Kale could respond, a distinct clearing of the throat echoed through the room.

The elderly librarian stood behind them, arms crossed, her brow furrowed in disapproval. She seemed unhappy with the presence of the two boys.

"It's time for you to leave," she said firmly. "You're disturbing the other patrons."

Of course, there were no other patrons but them, yet the boys respected the old woman's authority. After all, causing trouble in this place usually led to bigger problems.

Before standing, Osen raised a hand to his head in acknowledgment.

"I'd like to borrow this book," he said in a neutral tone.

Her eyes shifted to the title, and her expression soured even further. Osen was surprised by her reaction but chose not to comment. He understood that some things were better left unquestioned. Before he could ask for confirmation, she turned around, sat back at the counter, and resumed reading her book.

"Keep the book. This library doesn't need books about such creatures," she said curtly. Osen, though he disagreed entirely, remained silent. Kale, on the other hand, seemed noticeably more pleased.

"You could lend it to me sometime, Osen. Even if I can't read, the pictures are pretty interesting," Kale said, the enthusiasm evident in his voice.

Before the librarian could continue staring at them uncomfortably, the two boys headed for the door. However, just as Osen was about to follow Kale outside, his name echoed through the room.

The old woman was looking him in the eyes, her face a mask that seemed to hide her emotions. Only the faint movement of her wrinkles betrayed her nervousness. She seemed on the verge of saying something, but before she could, her gaze dropped to the floor.

"Don't forget to return the books from last time," she said finally. Osen nodded in response, but something about the interaction unsettled him. The room felt as cold as the air outside, and the sharp taste returned to his tongue.

Osen turned around after a brief "Okay."

His heart was racing. The feeling was back.