The night deepens, swallowing Ehwaz Hill in shadows. The air is cold, damp with the weight of the unknown, pressing against us like something listening—something waiting.
Edan sits by the dying torch, his hands clasped, his brows furrowed. The firelight flickers against his face, making him look older, wearier than I have ever seen him.
Elias leans against the broken stone behind him, his head tilted toward the sky, his expression unreadable.
And I—
I am trying to breathe.
Because everything we have ever known about this world—about ourselves—
Has just been rewritten.
——
Edan exhales, rubbing his temples. "Alright. We need to break this down logically."
His voice is steady, but I can hear the strain in it.
He is trying to ground himself in what he can understand.
Because if he doesn't—
He will drown in the implications.
——
Elias hums, but it is not his usual carefree arrogance. It is thoughtful, and distant—like he is trying to map out something in his mind that no longer fits together.
"So," he murmurs. "We've established that I didn't just arrive here. I… displaced something."
His fingers tap against his knee.
"And that something was the Black Spirit."
Edan nods slowly, still piecing it together. "If the world functions as a self-correcting system, then what happens when something vital to its operation is removed?"
Silence.
Elias chuckles dryly. "It breaks."
——
I shiver, pulling my cloak tighter around me.
"So that means… this world is trying to fix itself?" I whisper.
Edan nods grimly. "Yes. Or, at the very least, it's trying to compensate."
His fingers drum against his arm as he thinks, his mind moving through possibilities faster than I can follow.
"But it's not just about you," he continues, his gaze flickering toward Elias. "If you took the Black Spirit, then the balance of this world must have shifted."
A pause.
Then, quieter—
"And if that's the case… then where did it go?"
——
Elias exhales through his nose, his eyes dark, unreadable.
"That's the million-silver question, isn't it?"
——
Is Elias Still a Black Spirit, my black spirit?
The thought presses against my mind, heavy and unrelenting.
Elias isn't normal.
He never has been.
His connection to this world is wrong, his presence something the ruins tried to erase.
But if the Black Spirit is gone, if he has taken its place, then—
I hesitate.
Then what is he now?
——
Elias sees my expression, and something flickers across his face—something like understanding.
"Go on," he murmurs. "Say it."
I swallow. "Are you still a Black Spirit?"
A pause.
The wind shifts, howling softly through the ruins, carrying the scent of damp stone and old secrets.
Elias does not answer immediately.
Not because he doesn't know.
But because he is afraid of the answer.
——
Edan leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. "If you were completely human now, the ruins wouldn't have reacted to you like that. It wouldn't have tried to erase you."
Elias huffs a soft laugh. "So what? I'm not a Black Spirit, but I'm not exactly human either?"
Edan shrugs, his expression deadly serious. "That might not be too far from the truth."
——
I press a hand to my chest, feeling the rapid beat of my own heart.
"But then… what does that mean for him?" I whisper.
Edan's gaze is sharp, and calculating.
"If the world is trying to correct itself, then it has two options."
His fingers tighten.
"Either it removes the anomaly completely…"
My breath catches.
He does not have to say it.
I know what he means.
Either Elias will be erased…
Or something else must take his place.
——
Elias exhales, stretching out his arms as if he can physically shake off the weight of the conversation.
"Alright, so let's assume the world is compensating for the fact that I stole something fundamental to its operation."
He gestures vaguely. "What are the options?"
Edan taps a finger against his arm, thinking.
"In history, the Black Spirits have always been bound to individuals. They exist in a strange state—not quite a soul, not quite an entity. They… latch onto people, shape them, consume them, grow with them."
He exhales. "But if you've taken its place, then we have to assume it still exists somewhere."
I tense.
Elias frowns. "You think it's looking for a new host?"
Edan shakes his head. "No. If it was that simple, we would have seen evidence of it already."
His gaze sharpens. "The real question is—what happens when something that isn't supposed to be separate from the world is suddenly separated?"
——
A thought claws at the back of my mind.
I don't want to say it.
I don't want to think it.
But I have to.
I have to.
I glance at Elias, my throat tightening.
"If you stole its place…"
I swallow hard.
"Then maybe it stole yours."
——
The words are barely above a whisper, but they feel too loud in the empty night.
Elias stills.
Edan's eyes widen slightly.
A beat.
Then—
"What?"
——
I clutch my cloak tighter. "If the world is compensating, if it's trying to correct itself, then… what if the Black Spirit is doing the same?"
My breath shakes.
"What if it's not just… lost?"
I meet Elias's gaze.
"What if it's trying to become you?"
——
The thought is horrifying.
Elias—the real Elias—was brought into this world.
But if the Black Spirit was displaced, if it needed to fill the void—
What if it took his absence as its own rebirth?
What if somewhere in this world—there is another Elias?
One that is not him.
One that is not human.
One that is—
Something else entirely.
——
These speculations weighed me down, and I couldn't breathe properly.
Silence.
Heavy.
Unspoken.
Then Elias laughs.
Low.
Soft.
Not amused.
Not happy.
Something else.
Something that sounds almost like—
Dread.
——
He tilts his head, grinning, but his eyes are cold.
"Well," he murmurs.
"That's a fun thought, isn't it?"