Miradjinn

The door swings open abruptly, revealing an imposing figure. The man who enters exudes an aura of natural authority. His hair, a mix of black and white, frames a face etched with years of experience. His icy blue eyes first rest on his tearful daughter, then fix on me with menacing intensity.

"What's happening here?" he demands, his deep voice barely containing his anger.

I step back, aware of the delicate situation. The father clearly interprets my presence as the cause of his daughter's distress.

"Sir, I can explain..." I begin, but he cuts me off immediately.

"Silence!" he growls, advancing threateningly. "What have you done to my daughter?"

I raise my hands in a placating gesture. "I assure you, I have no hostile intentions. There's been a misunderstanding..."

But the father seems unwilling to listen. His fists clench, his entire body taut with paternal concern and rage.

"Dad, stop!" the purple-eyed girl suddenly cries out, her voice still quavering from tears. She struggles to her feet, interposing herself between us. "It's not what you think."

The father hesitates, his gaze shifting between his daughter and me. Confusion mingles with anger on his face.

"But... you're crying," he says, his voice softening with worry.

"It's not his fault," she replies, wiping her tears. "He just... told me the truth..."

The atmosphere remains tense, but the father seems torn between his protective instinct and the need to listen to his daughter. I remain motionless, aware that the slightest movement could reignite the situation.

I take a deep breath and begin to calmly explain to the man what I've shown his daughter. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the purple-eyed girl slowly rise, Belyy in her arms. She silently leaves the room, visibly shaken and needing space to process what she's just learned.

Focusing again on the father, I produce the Astra, the world map, and finally, my smartphone. With each object I present, I watch his expression change, shifting from disbelief to profound pain.

"You see," I say gently, "the outside world still exists. Your village isn't alone."

The man stares at the illuminated smartphone, his eyes reflecting a mixture of fascination and grief. "All this time..." he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

When he finally looks up at me, I can see the inner struggle playing out within him. "I... I thank you for this information, Sahar," he says, his voice trembling despite his efforts to remain composed. "We'll need time to... assimilate all of this."

He rises slowly, as if the weight of this revelation physically bears down on his shoulders. "We'll prepare dinner. Rest for now. I'll fetch you when it's ready."

Once alone, I sit on the bed, absently stroking Sahara. My mind begins to analyse everything we've learned since our arrival.

"Dad," Sahara's telepathic voice interrupts my thoughts, "why not remove your mask now that we're alone?"

I smile softly beneath my mask. Sahara has always adored my appearance, fascinated by what she considers beautiful.

"You know it's not prudent, Sahara," I respond mentally. "Even if we seem alone, we can't be certain. Remember, we couldn't detect Belyy's presence. Who knows what might happen if someone entered and saw me unmasked?"

Sahara sighs, disappointed but understanding.

"I know," she replies, "it's just... your face is so handsome. It's a shame to hide it constantly."

"It's necessary," I gently remind her. "My appearance is as much a curse as a gift. For now, the mask is our best protection. Besides, I'd prefer people remember me for my actions, not my appearance."

Refocusing my thoughts, I begin to contemplate our current situation.

"We're at the heart of the Path of the Disappeared," I muse. "This village seems completely isolated from the outside world."

I mentally review the events: the ghouls we fought, the extraordinary healing ability of the purple-eyed girl, Belyy's undetectability. Each element raises more questions than answers.

"How has this village remained cut off from the world for so long?" I wonder. "And why do the inhabitants believe the rest of humanity has been annihilated?"

The reaction of the father and daughter to modern technology particularly troubles me. Their ignorance of ruh and their equating my smartphone with black magic suggest total isolation.

"Something is clearly amiss here," I conclude. "Someone or something is keeping this village in ignorance. We must discover what."

I look at Sahara, my determination reflected in my smile. "We'll stay here for a while. There are too many mysteries to solve, and these people will need help facing the truth... and perhaps confronting what threatens them in this forest."

Sahara nods, sharing my resolution.

About an hour later, I hear footsteps approaching the door. The man I met earlier enters the room.

"Dinner is ready," he says, his voice calm but authoritative. "Please follow me."

I stand, Sahara leaping onto my shoulder, and we follow the man to the dining room. Upon entering, I immediately notice two people seated at the table.

The purple-eyed girl sits with her gaze lowered to her plate. Despite her efforts to appear normal, I can see traces of her recent tears. Beside her, a young blond boy with blue eyes seems to want to disappear into his chair, casting furtive glances in my direction before quickly averting his eyes.

The man takes his place at the head of the table and gestures for us to sit. Once settled, he speaks:

"Before we begin this meal, allow us to introduce ourselves properly. I am Jasper Krasnaya, head of the Krasnaya family."

He turns to the young girl, encouraging her with a look. She raises her eyes, trying to smile despite her evident sadness.

"I-I'm Aleria Krasnaya," she says, her voice slightly trembling. "I'll be 16 this year. P-pleased to meet you."

I nod politely, noting internally that we'll be the same age.

When it's the young boy's turn, he seems to want to melt into his chair. He mumbles so softly that I have to strain to hear him:

"Pavel Krasnaya... I'm 11 years old..."

I can sense his nervousness and desire to avoid attention.

Jasper resumes speaking, his tone softer than before: "My daughter Ria has prepared the meal. I hope you'll enjoy it."

I notice the embarrassed look Aleria gives her father, clearly trying to prevent him from overpraising her. Pavel, meanwhile, seems to relax slightly at the mention of his sister, as if her presence reassures him.

Aleria rises to serve the meal. A delicious aroma of beetroot, cabbage, and meat fills the air as she carefully ladles a dark red liquid into our bowls.

"It's Borscht," Aleria explains softly, a hint of pride piercing through her voice despite her emotional state. "It's... it's my specialty."

I curiously examine the steaming bowl before me. It's filled with a medley of vegetables, floating in a vibrant red broth. Pieces of meat are visible, and a white, creamy substance floats in the centre.

We begin eating in silence, the clinking of spoons against bowls the only audible sound for a few moments. The taste is remarkable, a blend of flavours I've never experienced before. Avoiding offence, I discreetly remove the meat to feed to Sahara.

After a few mouthfuls, Jasper sets down his spoon and looks directly at me.

"Sahar," he begins, his voice calm but firm, "you undoubtedly understand that your revelations have... upended our understanding of the world." He pauses, visibly searching for words. "I'd like to know more about this outside world you speak of. What is it really like?"

I gently set down my cutlery, aware that all eyes are on me. The atmosphere in the room grows heavier, charged with anticipation. I take a deep breath before speaking.

"What I'm about to tell you may be difficult to hear," I begin softly, my gaze moving from Jasper to Aleria, then to Pavel. "68 years ago, your village was isolated from the rest of the world. The ghouls, to my knowledge, have never left this forest."

I pause, observing their reactions. Jasper visibly stiffens, his hands clenching on the table. Aleria raises a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening in surprise. Pavel, not fully comprehending, instinctively moves closer to his sister.

"A year after your isolation," I continue, my voice calm but firm, "a devastating war erupted, involving all the world's continents. It lasted 50 long years."

"Today," I conclude, trying to infuse a note of hope into my voice, "this war has been over for 17 years. The world knows a relative, albeit fragile, peace."

A heavy silence settles after my words. Aleria, the first to regain her voice, asks gravely: "And you..." she begins, her voice trembling but curious, "Why do you wear that mask?"

I shift slightly, feeling the weight of their gazes upon me. Without removing my mask, I respond in what I hope is a reassuring tone:

"This?" I smile. "I assure you, outside, few wear this kind of mask for the same reason as mine."

"Allow me to introduce myself again," I continue, my voice taking on a more serious ton

e. "I am Sahar, and outside this forest, they call me 'Sahar the Subversive'..."

I take a deep breath. My eyes fixed on them, I finish:

"...or the world's most wanted criminal."