The evening was unusually lively.
A group of young men had gathered on the football ground, arguing over the rules of their next match. Vaelorian stood near the goalpost, adjusting the laces of his shoes while his friend complained about the uneven field.
"You're going to blame the ground again if you lose?" Vaelorian asked.
"At least I have an excuse. What's yours?"
"Natural talent."
His friend burst out laughing.
"Your natural talent is missing an open goal."
Before Vaelorian could respond, someone called them from the other side of the field.
The match began.
For the next hour, everything remained ordinary. Shouting, laughter, arguments over fouls, and the occasional spectacular miss filled the evening.
Vaelorian was chasing the ball when a sudden shout interrupted the game.
"Hey! Watch out!"
He turned.
A young boy had wandered beyond the edge of the field. A motorcycle was approaching along the narrow road, moving faster than the driver should have allowed.
The boy froze.
Vaelorian ran towards him.
He was still several metres away when another figure appeared from the roadside.
A young man dressed in dark clothes moved between the boy and the approaching motorcycle.
His hand lifted.
The motorcycle stopped.
Not gradually.
Not after the driver applied the brakes.
It stopped so abruptly that the rear wheel lifted slightly from the ground.
The driver stumbled forward, barely managing to remain seated.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
The young man calmly guided the frightened boy away from the road.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
The child shook his head.
"Then go back to your family. And don't run onto the road again."
His voice was quiet, but there was something unusually firm about it.
Vaelorian stood several steps away.
He had seen the motorcycle approaching. He had seen the young man raise his hand.
But he hadn't seen how the motorcycle had stopped.
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The driver looked confused.
"What the hell just happened?"
The young man gave him a brief glance.
"Perhaps you should drive more carefully."
He turned and began walking away.
"Wait!"
Vaelorian's voice stopped him.
The young man looked over his shoulder.
"How did you do that?"
For a moment, their eyes met.
The young man's expression changed slightly.
"Do what?"
"The motorcycle. You didn't even touch it."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Are you certain?"
Vaelorian hesitated.
Before he could answer, the young man continued walking.
Vaelorian remained where he was.
Something about the encounter felt different from the previous incidents.
This time, he was certain he had witnessed something unusual.
The football match never resumed.
His friends spent the next several minutes discussing what had happened. Some believed the driver had applied the brakes at the last moment. Others argued that the young man must have somehow grabbed the motorcycle.
Vaelorian said very little.
He knew what he had seen.
But knowing what he had seen and understanding how it happened were two entirely different things.
On the way home, he kept replaying the moment in his mind.
The raised hand.
The sudden stop.
The complete absence of visible effort.
He couldn't find a reasonable explanation.
The young man had not gone far.
Beyond the busy streets, he entered a narrow passage between two old buildings. Once he was certain nobody was following him, he stopped.
A small metallic object rested between his fingers.
It resembled a coin, except for the strange markings carved into its surface.
He pressed his thumb against its centre.
A faint vibration passed through the metal.
A voice emerged.
"Did you encounter anyone?"
"One."
"Who?"
"A young man."
There was a brief silence.
"Did he see anything?"
"Enough to become curious."
The voice on the other side remained quiet.
Then it spoke again.
"Was there any reaction?"
The young man looked back towards the street.
"Nothing unusual. He is still an ordinary human."
"Then leave him alone."
The metallic object went dark.
The young man slipped it into his pocket and continued walking.
Deep within a secluded mountain valley, a different scene was unfolding.
Several men stood around a circular platform carved into the ground. Its surface was covered with ancient symbols, some of which had begun glowing faintly.
At the centre stood a tall figure wearing dark red robes.
"Are you certain the disturbance originated here?" he asked.
An elderly man nodded.
"The energy traces are consistent with the readings from the mountain."
The red-robed figure examined the platform.
"Then someone has already reached it."
"Possibly."
A cold smile appeared on his face.
"Find out who."
One of the men hesitated.
"And if the person refuses to cooperate?"
The red-robed figure looked at him.
The man immediately lowered his head.
"Then don't give them the opportunity to refuse." This story is hosted at g.com.
A strange pressure spread across the valley.
The glowing symbols flickered.
For a brief instant, the space above the platform appeared to bend inward.
The elderly man's expression changed.
"Stop."
The red-robed figure turned towards him.
"What?"
"Something is responding."
The platform suddenly released a low vibration.
Every person present felt it.
Then the light disappeared.
Silence returned.
The elderly man stared at the centre of the platform.
His voice was barely audible.
"That shouldn't be possible."
Vaelorian reached home later than usual.
After dinner, he went straight to his room and opened his notebook.
He wrote down everything he could remember about the incident.
The distance between himself and the motorcycle.
The position of the young man's hand.
The sudden stop.
He even drew a rough sketch of the road.
After several minutes, he leaned back in his chair.
There was something he couldn't understand.
If the young man had used physical force, there should have been some visible movement. If he had touched the motorcycle, Vaelorian would have noticed.
But neither had happened.
He looked at his drawing.
Then he wrote a question beneath it.
Can force be applied without physical contact?
He stared at the sentence.
It sounded almost ridiculous.
Yet he couldn't bring himself to dismiss it.
His phone vibrated.
An unknown number had sent him a message.
"Curiosity can be dangerous when you don't understand what you're looking at."
Vaelorian froze.
He read it again.
Then he checked the number.
There was no name, no profile picture, and no previous conversation.
He immediately typed a reply.
"Who is this?"
The message showed as delivered.
No response came.
He waited.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Nothing.
Vaelorian slowly put the phone down.
For the first time, his curiosity was accompanied by something else.
Uneasiness.
He looked towards the window.
The night outside was quiet.
But he no longer felt entirely alone.