The silence, so comforting to occasional visitors, was not exactly pleasing to his ears.

Without the constant noise of human interference, Malakai heard more than he would have liked.

Not sounds. Presences.

He knew that the moment his grandfather saw him, he would hear the same old sermon – responsibility, lineage, duty. Still, he was certain that the old man would be able to offer him something no one else could: answers. Or, at the very least, the right direction.

His grandfather rarely stayed inside the main temple. He preferred the room at the back, closer to the woods, where the smell of earth and leaves was constant. Visits there were restricted, requiring scheduling and justification. Malakai, as his grandson, had never needed those.

He found him on the balcony, sitting in a low chair, a cup of tea in his hands, his gaze fixed on small colored stones scattered in front of him, as if they had been thrown there at random.

“The prodigal son returns home,” the old man remarks, without even raising his eyes. “Has he come to his senses?”

Malakai gives a tired smile.

“Good to see you, grandpa… but ‘grandchild’ would be better, wouldn’t it?”

“It makes no difference whether you came here out of self-interest.”

“Oh, grandpa, come on…” Malakai approaches, sits next to him, and wraps him in a side hug. “I missed you.”

“Of course,” the man replies, feigning belief, and shrugs off his grandson’s weight with a sharp movement. “Sit up straight. Have some tea. And tell me what you see.”

Malakai obeys, even though confused. He had never learned to read those stones. Deep down, he had always suspected that his grandfather was exaggerating, or blatantly lying, when he said they were an oracular object.

He stares at the colorful pile.

“I see… stones,” he admits awkwardly. “Sorry, but I don’t see anything else.”

The grandfather sighs impatiently.

“Your spiritual field is a mess. Your vision is blocked by fear. Ridiculous.”, he shakes his head. “Malakai, concentrate. Don’t deny who you are.”

The answer comes readily on his tongue, sharp as always. But Malakai swallows it. He needed to please him. He needed the answers he had come seeking.

He looks back at the stones.

And something changes.

“Since when do these stones have… symbols?” he asks, frowning.

“They always had,” the old man replies, finally raising his gaze. “What do you see? Or understand about this?”

Malakai didn’t know. He didn’t recognize those symbols, he didn’t understand their meanings. Still, he felt his hands move on their own, rearranging the stones with a precision that wasn’t his own.

As some of them approach, images form above them – ethereal, almost holographic, pulsing gently.

Malakai closes his eyes for a moment.

“You knew I was coming,” he remarks, exhaling slowly.

“No matter how hard you try to escape your destiny, you know you can’t,” the old man says calmly. “It’s no coincidence that you had to resort to this place.”

“I’m not going to quit my job.”

“I know,” the grandfather replied without hesitation. “I accepted that.”

Malakai opens his eyes, surprised.

“Then why-”

“Because now I need you to accept the gift you carry,” the man interrupts him. “I need to teach you everything I know.”

“You talk like you’re going to die, grandpa. Good heavens…”

The old man chuckled softly.

“And I will. Not now. Not so soon. But someday.”, the smile fades. “And when it happens, I need you to be ready.”

“I’m not going to take your place. I’ve already said that. I’m not going to quit my job.”

The oracle smiles, satisfied.

“Once again, my little one, I won’t ask you to stop being who you are,” he gestures around. “I want you to accept the other side. I know you’ll be able to reconcile both. And when this temple is yours…” he pauses, looking at the surrounding woods. “You can change it however you want. As long as you continue what I do here: help people.”

Malakai sighs, defeated.

“Did you know that the victims weren’t human?”

“It was as clear as day.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because that, my little one, is your job,” the old man sipped his tea. “To investigate. Now you understand how you can reconcile the two worlds?”

“Hm…”, Malakai extends his arm, resigned. “If this causes me any trouble, I’m never coming back here. Go on, put it on my wrist.”

The old man smiles and wraps his grandson’s wrist with a navy blue bracelet, full of strange knots and a small bell attached to the end.

“You have too much pent-up energy,” he warns. “The first few days can be…”

“Difficult?”

“Overwhelming,” he corrects, squeezing Malakai’s hand tightly and affectionately. “But I trust your judgment. And your strength.”

He releases his grandson’s wrist.

“Now go.”

Malakai stands up, the weight of the bracelet still feeling strange against her skin.

“And you’re right,” the old man adds seriously. “There aren’t just four.”

Malakai bids farewell with a brief, respectful wave. He doesn’t look back. He learns early on that, in that place, long goodbyes tend to turn into promises, and he wasn’t ready to make any more.

As soon as he leaves his grandfather’s field of vision, he walks to the car with hurried steps, the bell on his bracelet jingling softly with each movement. The sound bothers him. Too new. Too present.

He gets in the car, closes the door, and before even starting the engine, grabs his cell phone.

Calls Kate.

Once. Twice. Three times.

On the fourth attempt, she answers.

“Kai…”, the voice comes out drawn out, heavy with sleep. “I was sleeping. I hope you have a very good reason-”

“They’re not human,” Malakai interrupts, bluntly, without beating around the bush.

There’s a silence on the other end of the line. Long enough for him to almost hear Kate blinking, trying to wake up.

“Wait… what?” she asks, now more alert. “What do you mean ’they’re not human’?”

“Exactly that.” he replies, keeping his voice low and firm. “They are not human.”

“Malakai…”, she sighs. “How can you be so sure of something like that?”

He closes his eyes for a second. The bracelet seems to pulsate against his wrist.

“I’ll explain it to you in person,” he finally says. “But we need to redo the autopsies. All of them. With a fresh perspective. And quickly.”

"This is not something I can simply-"

“I know,” he interrupts her gently. “That’s why I think it’s best to call Sage.”

On the other end, Kate falls silent again. This time, the silence is calculated.

“Okay…” she finally agrees. “I’ll call her. Sage understands non-humans well.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you coming here now?”

Malakai starts the car. The engine responds with a low rumble.

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

He ends the call before Kate can ask any more questions.

For a moment, he remains motionless, his hands on the steering wheel, feeling the weight of the decision. Then he takes a deep breath, engages the gear, and pulls out of the parking lot.

In the background, the temple remains silent.

And, for the first time since it all began, Malakai is certain of one thing: they were behind schedule in the investigation.

Malakai drives for a few minutes before calling someone again. They don’t answer, but seconds later they call back. The cell phone vibrates against the dashboard when the name appears on the screen. Jax Dutton.

He answers on the second call.

“Speak.” the voice comes out rough, heavy with bad coffee and little patience.

“We need to meet at the morgue,” Malakai says without preamble.

“Now?”

“Now.”

There is a short but dense silence.

“What did you find out?” Jax asks.

“Things that can’t be discussed over the phone.”

Another silence. Malakai could almost imagine Jax scratching the back of his neck, his gaze fixed on some invisible point.

“Did you warn Kate?”, he asks.

“She’s on her way.” Malakai pauses briefly. “And Sage too.”

On the other end of the line, the silence lingers.

“Sage?” Jax repeats, more slowly. “Since when did this case turn into… this?”

“From the very first body.” Malakai replies. “The difference is that now we know where we’re stepping.”

Jax lets out a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, maybe…” he finally says. “Give me twenty minutes. I’m finally eating something…”

The connection drops before Malakai can respond.

When he parks in front of the morgue, half an hour after his call with Jax, Malakai feels a chill, a premonition, and the building has the same hostile appearance as always: cold concrete, tiny windows, fluorescent lights that never seem bright enough.

Malakai gets out of the car and closes the door with excessive care. The jingle of the bell sounds too loud in that silence.

“Finally.”, Jay says, leaning against the side entrance, arms crossed. “I thought you’d decided to go back to the temple and finally become an oracle.”

“You’d love to, wouldn’t you…” Malakai replies, offering a half-smile.

Jay steps away from the wall and walks towards him.

“No, I wouldn’t. The atmosphere in there is… interesting,” he comments, lowering his voice. “Jax has that look on his face like he wants to punch someone. Andy won’t stop talking. Kate is trying to keep everything under control. And Sage…”

“What’s wrong with Sage?” Malakai asks.

Jay raises his eyebrows.

“Let’s just say she arrived as if she already knew this was going to happen.”

Malakai nods, unsurprised.

“We were waiting for you,” Jay added.

“Excellent.”

Jay opens the door and makes an exaggerated gesture.

“After you, dear oracle.”

Malakai walks past him, taking a deep breath before entering.

In a small room leading to the autopsy rooms, Malakai found his colleagues gathered. The smell of antiseptic permeated the air, mixed with the low hum of equipment connected beyond the wall. Among them was Sage.

She stood out effortlessly. Not because of her appearance – simple, too discreet for someone who wielded so much power – but because of the silent presence that filled the space. Sage was a kallid. A witch connected to the light, a specialist in non-human beings, who had learned too early the price of existing outside of anonymity. After nearly being lynched during an investigation in which the media exposed her true nature, she had distanced herself from her profession and disappeared from the radar, living reclusively in a town too small for questions.

Sage was the first to notice the bracelet on Malakai’s wrist.

“Your grandfather must be happy,” she said, gesturing with her chin to the navy blue knots. “Good luck dealing with the spirits.”

“Is the beginning really that bad?” Malakai asked, trying to keep his tone light.

“For your late awakening?” she raised an eyebrow. “It’s going to suck.”

The smile that followed wasn’t cruel, just honest. Sage tilted her head slightly, assessing him.

“Luckily, there’s someone in this room who can… turn off the bracelet’s side effects.”

Malakai blinked.

“What? Is that possible? How? Who?”

Sage chuckled softly, crossing her arms.

“What’s the point in telling you everything all at once?”

She shrugged and looked away at Kate.

“So… where are the bodies?”

Kate let out a short laugh, shaking her head at the interaction, and gestured for everyone to follow her.

“Here. I’ve already got everything ready.”

Upon entering the autopsy room, the contrast was immediate. Four bodies lay on the metal tables, covered only to the waist, their skin too pale under the merciless white light.

“We had to exhume the first two victims,” Kate explained. “It was hell. Contacting the families, explaining that we would need to redo everything… nobody wants to hear that kind of thing.”