Liliam had always been a kind and serene woman, dedicated to helping her elderly father with the tasks in the fields. Despite her strong spirit, she was plagued by a mysterious illness that appeared without warning, debilitating her and confining her to a bed for days. With each episode, her body was ravaged by terrible pains, and nightmares and hallucinations accompanied her during the nights, plunging her into a world of torment and despair. But, despite her limitations, Liliam never ceased to show a welcoming and gentle smile, a light that warmed those around her.
Hawis, the old Sentinel, woke up every morning before dawn to train. Although he had left the battlefield, he maintained the strict discipline of his past life, performing exercises to keep his body and mind sharp. After finishing his daily training, he walked to the orchard on the outskirts of the village, where he would usually find Liliam tending to the crops. He watched her from afar, disguising the fascination he felt for her discreet beauty and the calmness she exuded. Over the days, small shared moments and exchanged glances created a silent bond between them.
Hawis had fallen deeply in love, but he lacked the courage to confess his feelings. He felt unworthy of such a blessing, after a life dedicated to war and death. Liliam, on the other hand, was a simple and shy peasant, inexperienced in the complexities of romantic feelings, but her heart warmed each time she saw the old warrior, whose discreet gestures and gentle gaze made her feel safe. Over time, the silence between them was filled with casual conversations, and their mutual affection grew, becoming a necessary companionship.
During the winter of that year, when Hawis turned 52, he witnessed for the first time the manifestation of that mysterious illness in Liliam. He found her confined to bed, her face pale and marked by suffering. High fever consumed her, and she groaned in pain as her body twisted involuntarily. The most distressing part was watching her fight against hallucinations and nightmares, immersed in a terror that seemed to pull her away from reality. Beside her, Hawis's heart weighed with helplessness.
Determined to alleviate her suffering, Hawis devoted himself entirely to caring for Liliam. For the first time, he openly showed his affection, holding her hand and murmuring words of comfort. Each day, he changed damp cloths on her forehead, prepared medicinal herbs, and did whatever was within his reach to ease the pains that tormented her. This gesture, born of desperation, became the bond that further united their hearts.
Over time and Hawis's tireless attention, Liliam regained her strength, and the illness retreated once more, allowing her to rise again. With her health restored and the silent love that had blossomed during days of pain, she envisioned a future alongside the man she now deeply loved. Finally, destiny intertwined their lives, and after a simple wedding, happiness seemed to smile upon them.
Months later, Liliam announced that she was pregnant. Hawis's heart overflowed with joy and gratitude, as if the universe had aligned to gift them a new chance at happiness. The entire village joined in the celebration, and a grand party was organized to bless the new family and the arrival of the child. Families gathered in the village's great hall, filling the air with songs, laughter, and music that spoke of good harvests, luck, and blessings. For Hawis, the night was a true dream, a chapter of life he had never imagined he would live.
However, as the dances and smiles filled the hall, a silent threat approached. No one noticed when a fine, gray mist began to spread across the village, covering the land like a dark veil. The mist crawled between the houses, enveloping everything with a cold sensation, subtly extinguishing the warmth and light emanating from lamps and fires. Amid the shadows, indistinct silhouettes began to emerge, spectral figures watching the celebration with sinister intentions.
It was only when the first piercing scream cut through the air that the party ceased. The sound traversed the hall, silencing voices and laughter, plunging the environment into an unsettling silence. Fear quickly spread among the villagers, each face reflecting growing apprehension. Without hesitation, Hawis, whose firm and disciplined posture still carried the spirit of the warrior he was, gathered the village's youngest and most capable men. Together, they tried to identify the source of the screams and ward off the danger lurking in the fog, but impaired vision hindered every movement.
As the mist enveloped the village, shadowy figures slowly approached, moving between the houses and blending with the environment. They were humanoid silhouettes, their forms indistinct, but their intentions were clear. And in an instant, the creatures advanced, launching themselves at the nearest villagers in a sudden attack. Screams echoed everywhere, and fear spread like wildfire. Mothers embraced their children, trying to protect them while men armed themselves with whatever they could to confront the unknown evil that was taking over the village.
Desperate to protect his wife and future child, Hawis grabbed Liliam and led her to the nearest house. In a desperate act, he improvised a barricade, closing doors and windows to contain the threat already ravaging outside. In the room where they took refuge, Hawis held Liliam, trying, without success, to calm her. He knew that outside, his friends and neighbors were fighting, and with each scream he heard, his heart tightened even more.
Gradually, the sounds of fighting became scarcer. The village, once so full of life and joy, now seemed like a field of death. The smell of blood and the echo of final sighs filled the air, penetrating even into the refuge where Hawis and Liliam were hiding. An overwhelming pressure seemed to surround the house, as if the very walls were about to give in to the terror outside. He felt that there was no more way out, but his instinct told him he still needed to protect his family, even if it cost him his life.
Then, a deafening crash broke the silence. The door, which had been barricaded, was destroyed. Knowing that his only chance was to act before the creatures took over the entire house, Hawis took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage and strength he had cultivated during a lifetime of combat. Looking at Liliam, he saw that she was in an alarming state: her eyes were glassy and pale, blood was streaming from her nose in a dark streak, and her incoherent murmurs indicated that she was already being consumed by the terror spreading around her.
The old warrior knew he had to fight, but the sight of the woman he loved so vulnerable and broken paralyzed him.