By the time Hound finished the entry, nobody was looking at the fire anymore.
They were staring into memories.
The next pages were stranger.
"I must overcome my fears," Hound read.
The sentence appeared over and over again.
Entire pages.
Repeated dozens of times.
Another page contained a different phrase. "I am weak."
Repeated again and again.
Quade stared. "I... I can't believe this."
His grandfather had always seemed invincible.
Hearing these words felt wrong somehow.
Eventually, Hound turned another page. "This is where he leaves."
Quade looked up. "Leaves?"
"The village," Hound replied.
The old adventurer tapped the text and began reading again. "I traveled to the Radiant Theocracy Empire for answers."
Hound turned another page only to find several sheets missing. Entire pieces of the story had been torn away, leaving jagged edges where the pages should have been.
A frown creased his brow. 'Grandfather kept secrets even from his own journal.'
Someone had removed them deliberately.
Eventually, he continued reading.
Hound turned another page and continued reading aloud. "There are two paths inward to grow stronger."
The group leaned in slightly, listening closely as the fire crackled between them.
"One: kneel, fold your hands together, and pray to the Almighty."
Hound turned the page.
"The other: face the rising sun, kneel and rise while praying."
A brief silence followed.
Then he continued. "Both calm the mind. Both make the flow of Heka clearer."
Hound's eyes moved to the final line on the page. "I do not yet understand why."
The words lingered long after Hound closed the journal.
Nobody spoke immediately.
Even Lorenzo seemed unusually thoughtful.
Eventually, Quade broke the silence. "Who is the Almighty?"
Hound looked down at the worn cover.
Then toward the darkness beyond the firelight. "I am not sure. I have heard that name before during my mission close to the Radiant Theocracy but never learned more about it."
"Anyhow, this journal is important." Hound said.
His hand rested on it. "More important than I first realized."
Later that night, the fire burned down to glowing embers while the group settled into their tent.
Exhaustion quickly claimed Zyon and Hound.
Quade, however, could not sleep.
He lay on his back, staring at the woven leaf roof above him, his mind a storm of unanswered questions.
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'Why did the fight with the Night Void change Grandfather so much? He was a Simmons warrior through and through. We always believed in our own strength, in the blade in our hands and the fire in our hearts. Why did he feel the need to travel to the Radiant Theocracy Empire? Was he trying to heal something broken inside himself? Why seek teachings from other paths when our way had always been enough?'
The thoughts refused to quiet. Four hundred days of solitude had left him with many scars, but none as deep as these lingering doubts.
A soft rustle beside him made him turn. Lorenzo was also awake, eyes open in the dim light.
"Can't sleep either?" Lorenzo whispered.
Quade sat up quietly. "No… too many ghosts in my head tonight."
They slipped out of the tent together, instinctively grabbing their weapons.
The jungle night was alive with distant calls, but the river offered a small pocket of calm under the stars.
They sat on a smooth rock by the water's edge. Quade stared at the flowing current for a long moment before speaking, his voice awkward and hesitant. "It should only take us four or five more days to reach the Grand Pass… if the river stays kind to us."
Lorenzo gave a small smile, sensing the real reason they were out here. "Yeah… but that's not what's keeping you awake, is it?"
Quade let out a long, heavy breath. His scarred hands clenched slightly. "No. The journal… my grandfather. Why would a single fight with the Night Void change him so deeply? He was a Simmons warrior. We always believed in our own strength." The young warrior said with his fist raised in the air. "Why seek their teachings about the Almighty? I don't understand why he would choose this path when our way had always been enough." The boy stated while holding back tears.
Lorenzo listened quietly, then spoke with gentle honesty. "I don't think I can tell you what's right or wrong. But… maybe your grandfather found something that helped him carry the pain after that terrible night.
Lorenzo stayed quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words before speaking again. "He chose his own path, just like you can. Maybe there are many ways.
Or maybe you'll find your own."
"You're special, Quade. Your power is different. Your heart is different too.
You've spent four hundred days protecting an entire village by yourself. That kind of gentle strength, fierce when it needs to be, but kind at its core, that's rare.
You don't have to figure everything out tonight."
Lorenzo's sudden maturity caught Quade off guard, but it comforted him.
Quade was quiet for a while, then asked softly, "What… what happened to you that night with the Night Void? You froze, right? What did they look like?"
Lorenzo's face darkened. He stared at the river. "Yeah… I froze. Completely. They just appeared, tall, wrapped in layers of ragged black cloth that moved like they were alive. No faces. Just endless darkness. It felt like they were sucking the light out of everything around them. Cold and wrong. I wanted to fight, to do something… but my body wouldn't move. I've never been that scared in my life."
Quade nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Then… I think I get it now. What my grandfather must have felt. The terror. The helplessness. Even a Simmons warrior can break when facing something like that."
Lorenzo bumped his shoulder lightly. "You don't have to choose anything yet. We still have more of the journal to read. One step at a time."
The two boys sat by the river a while longer, the gentle sound of water flowing between them. Eventually, they started walking to the tent, carrying a little more peace than before.
Unknown to them, as Lorenzo and Quade walked back through the dark jungle, several pairs of cold, calculating eyes followed their every step from the shadows.
The figures moved with silence, blending perfectly with the underbrush.
One raised a hand.
The others immediately stopped.
A low whisper drifted through the night. "They'll do nicely."
As Lorenzo and Quade slipped back inside the tent, both froze.
Hound and Zyon were already awake.
The smaller battle hammer rested in Zyon's hands while a faint golden glow pulsed from the weapon's head.
Hound sat beside him with one finger pressed to his lips, signaling the boys to enter quietly.
The relaxed mood from the river vanished.
Hound lowered his voice to the faintest whisper. "We're not alone."