Seed of Hope

Chapitre 4: Tick-tock, tick-tock goes the clock

Aisling felt panic overwhelm her, a cold wave twisting her stomach. She wanted to scream, to call for Fenja and Idris, but her throat tightened so much that no sound escaped her lips. Her heart pounded wildly, the pressure in her chest suffocating her. There were so many Dwellers, far more than she had ever seen in one place. All the invisible yet piercing eyes were fixed on her, surrounding the square like hungry shadows.

She tried to step back, searching for an escape, but they moved like an oppressive mist. Their whispers grew louder, filling the air with that muffled moan, the breath that had always seemed distant and nebulous to her, to the point that she had learned to ignore it over the years. Perhaps she shouldn't have. Maybe she should have paid attention, for this time, she seemed to hear something more distinct, a whispered word, almost incredulous: "Afraid."

"Yes," she murmured, her voice trembling. "Now, I am afraid."

The whisper intensified, taking on a clearer form, a chorus of rough, ethereal voices. "Do not... be... afraid."

She stopped, her eyes wide with surprise. Never before had she heard them speak so clearly.

"You... you can speak?" she asked, her throat still tight.

Their silhouettes wavered at the edge of her vision, approaching and retreating with a troubling slowness. "Always... you... did not understand. Then... you stopped... listening."

A cold shiver ran down Aisling's spine, ignoring the fur she clutched tightly around her. How many times had she crossed these ruins, considering their whispers as mere background noise, a part of the ambient twilight, something harmless?

"What do you want?" she finally dared to ask, her voice firmer than she felt.

The Dwellers remained silent for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, before the whisper returned, more unified this time. "Help."

"Help?" Aisling repeated, her breath short. "You want... help?"

The shadows around her began to move, slowly dispersing, creating an opening in their oppressive circle. They no longer needed to speak. They were showing her. Before her, a path cleared through the ruined city.

She stood frozen for a moment, her heart racing, her eyes fixed on the shadows that invited her. A shiver of uncertainty still ran through her body. A part of her, the rational part, screamed at her to turn back, to run as fast as she could to the library. The Dwellers couldn't catch her, could they? And even if they could, they couldn't touch her, right? The thought briefly reassured her.

But then, why couldn't she move? Why were her feet rooted to the frozen ground, her breath held, her eyes locked on the path beckoning her deeper into the ruined city? Was it curiosity? The call of the unknown? Or maybe the strange feeling that, despite the fear, she was standing at a crucial moment, on the verge of discovering something important.

She looked up at the shifting shadows, where the Dwellers had been. Their silence enveloped her, heavy and mysterious, but she could still feel their presence, like a whisper at the edge of perception.

"If I help you," she finally said, her voice weaker than she had hoped, "Will you help me find the answers I'm looking for?"

A light breeze suddenly swept across the square, like a distant wave. The Dwellers did not reappear, but something in the air shifted, like a veiled promise. Aisling took a deep breath, her hesitation still palpable. She could still turn back... But deep down, she knew she wouldn't.

The strange veiled creatures gradually disappeared as she followed their trail, one by one, like wisps of smoke blown away by the wind. She crossed much of the ruins until a clear direction emerged: the castle and its barrier of thorns.