The journey north did not feel like traveling toward a colder place, but rather toward something increasingly incomprehensible. The snow indeed grew thicker beneath their feet, and the wind that blew carried a sharper bite, but what truly changed was the silence. If Greyhaven was a city slowly dying, then the region outside felt like a place long abandoned by life itself. There were no carcasses, no fresh ruins, no signs of struggle—only an empty world in a way too clean, as if something had erased it without leaving traces.
Rowan walked slightly ahead, his eyes constantly moving, not because he hoped to find enemies, but because he did not trust places that were too quiet. His experience said that the worst danger was not what was clearly visible, but what erased all signs before attacking. He glanced several times toward Elias, trying to read whether the direction they took truly had a basis or merely followed something inexplicable. But every time he saw Elias's expression, he found no doubt—and that, strangely, only made him more restless.
Mara walked with a steady rhythm on the left side, carrying her hammer like someone who was not only ready to fight, but also ready to lose everything if necessary. She did not speak much since leaving Greyhaven, not because she had no thoughts, but because she was recalculating the world in her head. If fire could wound the Lament, but could not end it, then what was the actual limit of the power she possessed? And more importantly—was she ready to step further, if it meant the fire she used was no longer just a tool, but something that began to change her too?
Luca, on the other hand, did not seem disturbed by that silence. He walked lightly, sometimes looking ahead, sometimes to the side, like someone who did not see the world only through what appeared on the surface. Several times he stopped for a fraction of a second, not from fatigue, but because he seemed to be "listening" to something that could not be felt by others. Every time that happened, Elias observed him carefully, because it became increasingly clear that this child was not merely sensitive to hope—he could also sense the Lament's movements in a way that could not be explained by ordinary logic.
Their journey finally stopped when the silhouette of a second city began to appear on the horizon, and for the first time since leaving Greyhaven, they saw something truly different. That city was not covered in fog. There was no gray layer hanging above it. On the contrary—the air around it looked clear, even too clear for the world they had traveled through so far. But what was most disturbing was not that clarity, but the fact that there was no smoke, no light, and no sound of life coming from within.
Rowan slowed his pace, his eyes squinting as he tried to read a situation that felt wrong in a way not immediately visible as dangerous. "This is not like Greyhaven," he finally said, his voice low but firm, as if he was making sure the others also saw the same thing. "If that one died slowly, this place… feels like it hasn't been alive for a long time." That sentence was not merely an observation, but a reflection of instinct that had too often saved his life.
Elias did not immediately answer, because he also felt the same thing, but in a different form. If Greyhaven still had hidden embers of hope, then the city before him felt like a blank page—not because nothing was written, but because something had erased all its contents. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to "listen" as he had done before, and what he felt was not darkness, not despair… but emptiness that was too perfect.
Mara raised her hammer slightly, not in an attacking position, but as a reflex of instinct that began to be wary. "I don't see signs of resistance," she said softly, her eyes sweeping the outer city walls that appeared intact without significant damage. "No burn marks, no ruins, no something showing they tried to survive." She paused briefly before continuing, her voice slightly heavier. "Meaning they didn't have time… or they never tried."
Luca finally stopped walking, and for the first time since the journey began, his expression changed into something approaching tension. He stared at that city without blinking, as if trying to understand something beyond the reach of words. "This is not because they lost hope," he said softly, but clear enough for everyone to hear. "This is because… hope never existed here from the beginning."
That sentence made the air feel colder than before, not because of temperature, but because of its implication. If the Lament was born from despair, then what they faced before them might not be merely an evolution… but another form of something even more dangerous. Elias slowly opened his eyes, looking at that city once more, and for the first time since he began this journey, he felt something approaching doubt.
But he still stepped forward.
Because if he stopped here, then everything they had done in Greyhaven would mean nothing.
And this time, he was not only following the light.
He chose to search for it—even if it meant entering a place where that light might never have existed.