“When I came back to my hometown a few years ago…”

  Raken spoke low.

  “My family didn’t recognize me. Not at all.”

  Rynel’s expression hardened.

  “…You mean they truly didn’t remember you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Raken’s answer was firm.

  “My parents treated me like a stranger.

  They couldn’t even recall that they’d ever had a younger son.”

  A short silence.

  “…Then what about Monero?”

  The corner of Raken’s mouth lifted—barely.

  “That bastard… he remembered me.”

  He exhaled once, quietly.

  “He happened to be out of the village on a job.

  That’s why he avoided what came down on the town.”

  “So that’s why you keep him close.”

  “If he hadn’t been there,

  I might’ve disappeared completely.”

  A lonely note brushed through Raken’s voice.

  “…Not that he cares.”

  Rynel held his gaze without speaking.

  “…So up to now, you’ve been watching this village alone?”

  “Yeah.”

  Raken nodded slowly.

  “Suspicious priests.

  Collecting goods under the cover of ‘requests.’

  And… traces of the forgotten.”

  Rynel’s eyes wavered.

  “Forgotten…”

  “So it’s not just you.”

  “There was a quiet stretch,” Raken said, setting the mug down.

  “But recently, the same thing’s started happening again.”

  “I’m sure of it now.

  That charity temple has become someone’s laboratory.”

  Rynel asked carefully,

  “…What kind of experiment?”

  “I can’t say for certain yet.”

  Raken chose his words slowly.

  “But memory. Existence. Identity.

  Something is growing there—something that can shake all of it.”

  Rynel closed his mouth, then said quietly,

  “On the village outskirts.

  There’s an old house under the northern hill.”

  Raken’s gaze snapped sharp.

  “A collapsed fence.

  A warped window frame.

  And… a well that’s fallen in.”

  Rynel nodded.

  “A few days ago, I passed near it and felt a faint trace of mana.

  More precisely… it felt like something had ‘stayed’ there.”

  Raken’s hand paused.

  “…That’s it. That house.”

  Rynel’s eyes widened.

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  “…So it was your home.”

  A quiet shadow fell over Raken’s face.

  “When I was a kid, I lived there with my little brother.”

  He let a beat pass.

  “My parents forgot me.

  And after that day, my brother disappeared too.”

  Rynel asked carefully,

  “…Then what about your parents?”

  “When I came back after finishing a job, the house was empty.

  My family was nowhere to be found.”

  Raken lowered his gaze.

  “I asked the villagers… and the sick part is, none of them even remembered.”

  “…They didn’t remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  Raken’s eyes deepened.

  “Just vague dodging—

  ‘Feels like they were gone, maybe…’

  That’s all anyone could say.”

  Fear and confusion were tangled in his voice.

  “After that, I stayed.”

  Raken said low.

  “Because someone has to remember what’s happening.”

  Rynel nodded, quiet.

  “…So you were waiting.

  Until someone fit to move showed up.”

  “Maybe.”

  Silence again.

  Raken leaned back, then steadied his eyes.

  “Now for the point.”

  Rynel straightened as well.

  “That temple… it’s still making ‘the forgotten.’”

  “Erasing memories, thinning out existence,

  shaking a person’s life at the root.”

  Rynel drew a slow breath.

  “…So you’re going to act.”

  “Yeah.”

  A brief light flashed in Raken’s eyes.

  “I was born in that village. I lost everything there.

  So… I can’t just watch it fall apart.”

  He lowered his head and clasped his hands together.

  “Honestly—alone, it’s too much.”

  “Not just priests in there.

  There could be armed men, or mages, hiding behind the walls.”

  Rynel summarized, as if laying pieces in order.

  “So you’re asking us to help.”

  “Yeah.”

  Raken didn’t hide it anymore.

  “I’m going to move for real now.

  And I need your strength.”

  Rynel closed his eyes once, then opened them.

  “…I want to help. But we move as a team.

  I can’t decide alone.”

  “Our leader has to be the one to judge it—Ivela.”

  Raken nodded.

  “Then… I’m asking you.”

  Rynel rose slowly.

  “…But there’s one thing I want to ask.”

  “Yeah?”

  “How did you know… what my ability is?”

  Raken gave a short, breathy laugh.

  “This village doesn’t talk much. But its ears are sharp.”

  His eyes flicked to Rynel’s wrist.

  “Telekinesis. Some call it psychokinesis.

  These days it’s been pushed out by elemental magic—almost extinct, they say.”

  Raken’s voice dropped.

  “That power might be the key to grabbing hold of ‘the forgotten.’”

  Rynel nodded quietly.

  “…Hearing you say it, it feels like the puzzle clicks into place.”

  His gaze fell to the bracelet wrapped around his wrist.

  “That subtle resistance I felt near that house…

  it was probably because of that.”

  Raken smiled—very faintly.

  The guild was silent.

  Outside the window, the night lay thick.

  Rynel steadied his breath.

  “…I’ll tell her. Properly.”

  Raken nodded.

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  ◇

  The door to the inn was shut, quiet.

  Aira seemed fast asleep—only the small sound of her breathing.

  Rynel opened the door carefully.

  The room was dim, still.

  “…You’re late.”

  A low voice came from the window.

  Even in the dark, where the light didn’t reach, the eyes were clear.

  Ivela.

  Rynel closed the door quietly.

  On the table sat a teacup that hadn’t gone cold.

  Proof she’d been waiting.

  “I had something to check.”

  Rynel spoke carefully.

  Ivela nodded.

  She didn’t speak, but her eyes said she already knew something.

  Rynel sat down in front of her.

  He took a breath and opened his mouth.

  “Near the temple… I ran into Raken.”

  A short, plain sentence.

  But it carried a lot inside it.

  Ivela lowered her gaze and waited.

  “I followed a suspicious priest.

  And from the box he handed over, I sensed faint mana.”

  Rynel paused.

  “That’s not all.”

  Then he continued.

  “Raken was watching all of it.

  And he explained why he came to us.”

  “About the forgotten.”

  At that, Ivela’s fingertips moved—just slightly.

  “Even his own family forgot him.

  He said it felt like his existence vanished from the village.”

  Rynel looked straight into her eyes.

  “There was… sincerity in what he said.”

  A brief stillness.

  “And he admitted he can’t solve it alone.”

  Rynel added, low.

  “So he asked us for cooperation.”

  Ivela didn’t speak.

  Rynel continued carefully.

  “I didn’t give him an answer.

  Because you’re the leader.”

  At that moment, the corner of Ivela’s mouth lifted—barely.

  “Good. That was the right call.”

  She closed her eyes once, then opened them.

  “Raken.”

  She repeated the name, short and solid.

  “When we first arrived in this village, I saw him on the street a few times.”

  “His eyes.

  Cold, like something’s already collapsed… but not broken all the way.”

  Rynel watched her in silence.

  “You won’t understand what I mean.”

  Ivela gave a small, bitter smile.

  “But… if you felt what you felt—

  then the hand he offered probably wasn’t a lie.”

  A pause.

  Somewhere outside, a dog barked in the distance.

  Bobre’s night was quiet, but it wasn’t loose.

  “…Ivela.”

  Rynel spoke again.

  “Should we get involved?”

  Ivela turned her eyes to him.

  She didn’t answer right away—she closed her eyes briefly, then set her fingertips on the table.

  “Officially, we only accept guild requests.”

  Rynel’s brow twitched.

  “Personal contracts are for walkers. For hired blades.”

  Ivela continued.

  “We’re… part of the Shadow Organization, yes—

  but our public identity is adventurers.”

  Rynel pressed his lips together.

  It was true.

  Still, he pushed once more.

  “And if it’s not just a ‘ritual’?

  If it’s really… making people forget?”

  Ivela drew a deep breath.

  “The temple is a domain of faith.

  Even the organization avoids meddling there.”

  That was when—

  a low voice came from the doorway.

  “And if what’s happening in that temple…

  hurts the organization?”

  It was Aira.

  Somehow she was awake, standing by the door.

  “What kind of harm?”

  Ivela turned her head.

  Aira stepped in and spoke.

  “If that temple is covering up the village’s truth,

  then it’s interfering with our information gathering anyway, isn’t it?”

  Ivela looked at her without speaking.

  Then she answered quietly.

  “…That’s not wrong.”

  “We keep contact with the organization,” Ivela added low.

  “But for this… we move only after we get a clear answer.”

  She let out a long breath.

  “And given how the Shadow Organization works,

  it’s possible someone inside is connected to that charity temple.”

  Rynel and Aira’s eyes lifted at the same time.

  “…You mean there might be someone in the organization tied to the temple?”

  Aira asked carefully.

  Ivela neither nodded nor denied it.

  “I can’t be sure.

  But moving now carries too much risk.”

  She nudged the teacup away with her fingertips.

  “We can do simple information gathering.

  But direct interference is still too early.”

  A short silence.

  Into that gap, Aira spoke.

  “Then what if we change the route?”

  Rynel looked up.

  “Instead of us taking a personal request,

  we make Raken submit an official guild request.”

  Rynel’s eyes brightened.

  “…That works.”

  He tapped his knee lightly.

  “Ivela. There’s no problem with that, right?”

  Ivela looked at Aira.

  She thought for a moment, then nodded.

  “Formally, there isn’t.”

  Her voice lowered.

  “But remember this.

  A temple isn’t just a building. It’s faith—and power.

  It’s not a place you can dig into easily.”

  Rynel nodded quietly.

  Ivela stood.

  “Alright. It’s late, so we stop here.

  We continue tomorrow.”

  The door closed, and silence returned to the room.

  Rynel stood and walked to the window.

  The night was deep—no stars in sight.

  In that darkness, only the temple’s tower stood unnaturally clear.

  Rynel couldn’t put his thoughts in order.

  ◇

  Early afternoon, the sun already past its peak.

  Bobre’s familiar fog still clung to the alleys,

  and sunlight slid slowly over rooftops and walls.

  A small meeting room on the inn’s second floor.

  The three of them sat in a quiet circle.

  On the table: a simple meal,

  a map, and several documents laid out neatly.

  Rynel spoke.

  “Raken contacted me earlier. He said he just submitted the request.

  It took time to write—he seemed careful, organizing what actually happened.”

  Ivela ran a fingertip along the edge of the paper.

  “Good. If it involves a temple,

  you can’t use even one word carelessly.”

  Aira took a sip of water.

  “Then what do we do now?”

  “Now that it’s an official request,

  we go to the guild and check if it’s been registered.”

  Rynel said.

  “If the temple’s hiding something,

  even registration could get delayed.”

  Ivela added shortly.

  “And even if we’re allowed in,

  they’ll block access to the core areas.”

  “Still—just in case.”

  Rynel nodded.

  “We get as close as we can,

  and check for mana traces or anything off.”

  Ivela rose quietly.

  With cold eyes, she looked toward the temple tower beyond the window.

  “Alright. Then let’s go take a look.”

  They moved without speaking.

  Only their footsteps crossed the corridor as they left the room.