The Early Morning of Dawn

  Their house stood alone in the cold mountains of Crescent Dust, surrounded by mist-veiled lands and the quiet murmur of nature. His father was away, working in the distant city, while his older sister had long since left, married to a mellow swordsmith, a man well-respected as the head of the steelworks in the bustling village below.

  The town itself was a world apart—wild and brimming with life. Merchants crowded the dirt roads, shouting over one another in the booming market, their wooden stalls stacked high with goods ranging from freshly caught fish to intricate jewelry, crafted with the precision of artisans who had mastered their trade over generations.

  This was a time before machines, before cars; the wealthiest of men traveled by house carriages, grand and polished, either manned by a personal footman or driven by a well-dressed chauffeur.

  But Cave and his mother did not live among the wealth and commotion of the town.

  Their home was nestled deep within the hidden depths of the village, in a realm of solitude where the wind whispered through the trees and the land stretched vast and unforgiving. The villagers lived far apart from one another, each house separated by dense forests and sprawling farmlands. The community thrived in its own way, self-sustained and unbothered by the world beyond the mountains.

  Yet, for all its beauty, there were parts of Crescent Dust best left undisturbed.

  There were lands where farmers had long been recalled from tilling, where travelers feared to tread. The elders spoke of it in hushed warnings; a place of vanishing echoes and silent watchers, where even the bravest among them dared not set foot.

  This was where Cave had wandered in his dreams.

  And this was where he feared he would one day wander in waking life.

  **The Road to School**

  Cave’s feet crunched softly against the narrow trail that wound its way through the dense woods. The morning fog still clung to the land like a heavy blanket, shrouding everything in a silvery haze. The forest, with its towering pine trees and thick underbrush, seemed to breathe with the quiet rhythm of the world before dawn. Each step Cave took, the soft rustle of leaves echoed like whispers in the distance. The world felt both still and alive in the same breath.

  The cold mountain air nipped at his skin, pulling his breath into sharp bursts, but the chill was nothing compared to the growing sense of unease gnawing at him. His mind, still tangled in fragments of his nightmare, couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched.

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  Passing deeper into the woods, he came upon the bridge—a man-made structure that spanned a small, but deep lake. The water below was still, reflecting the mist-cloaked trees like a glass mirror. Cave stood for a moment at the edge of the bridge, looking at the placid surface, the silence broken only by the occasional splash of a fish breaking through the water’s surface. His eyes wandered to the dark stretch of trees on the other side of the bridge, where the landscape seemed to turn faintly ominous in the distance.

  Without much thought, Cave bent down and picked up a few small pebbles from the dirt beside him. He tossed them one by one into the water, watching as they skipped across the surface, sending ripples through the glassy lake. He smiled slightly at the small distraction, but soon his grin faded as a cold splash of water hit his white shirt, soaking through the fabric. The chill from the lake sent a sharp, involuntary shiver through him.

  “Great, now I’m going to be wet all day,” he muttered to himself. His smile faded into a grimace as he wiped at his chest, trying in vain to dry it off.

  At 07:16 AM, Cave finally pulled himself away from the bridge, his shoes squelching slightly as he continued on his way. The thick mist in the woods seemed to make every step feel heavier, as though the land itself wanted to hold him in place. With the school still some distance away, he quickened his pace, moving out of the trees and across the sprawling farmlands. As the mist began to lift, revealing the sprawling fields and patches of farmhouses dotted along the horizon, his thoughts drifted back to his dreams—the unsettling vision of a place that existed beyond the mist, beyond the safety of his waking life.

  By 07:30 AM, Cave reached the edge of the village, where the school stood—a simple stone building at the heart of the community. It was hardly grand but familiar, with its old stone walls and small wooden windows that always seemed to welcome him with their dusty glow. The morning sun had fully risen by now, casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets as villagers went about their morning routines. He passed the blacksmith’s forge and the bustling market before slipping into the gates of the schoolyard, his heart still racing.

  Inside, the students had already gathered in the main courtyard, waiting for the morning parade to begin. Cave stood near the back of the group, his head low, still trying to shake the feeling of something lingering just behind him. The voices of his classmates buzzed around him in a familiar, almost hypnotic hum as they lined up for the flag ceremony, their faces a mix of tiredness and excitement.

  By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of the ceremony, Cave had already managed to tune out the noise and slip into the classroom. He shuffled into his seat, still shaking off the remnants of the early morning and the eerie feeling that had settled over him like a shadow.

  At 08:00 AM, the class began its morning quiz. Cave’s mind felt foggy, but his hand instinctively reached for the pencil, filling in answers without much thought. His eyes barely flickered between the chalkboard and his paper, as the questions seemed to float by in an indistinct blur.

  The world outside, the voices of his peers, and the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows faded as the questions on the quiz bled together. In the moment of his answers, Cave felt as if he were somehow detached from the reality around him. The nagging feeling of being watched continued to claw at his thoughts, each tick of the clock seeming to press tighter on his chest.

  But it was the nagging whispers from his dreams—those voices, those eyes in the dark—that would not leave him alone, even now.