Three days north. Three nights of careful movement. The cabin appeared through morning mist like a fever dream of safety.
"Previous occupant?" Kael asked.
Elena nodded. She'd found it yesterday while scouting. One room. Roof mostly intact. Door that still closed. Luxury beyond measure for people who'd been sleeping in caves and ditches.
They entered carefully. His spirit tasted the air. No active threats. Just dust and old abandonment. Someone had lived here once. Tried for normal life beyond civilization's edges. The skeleton in the corner suggested how that had ended.
"Natural causes. Probably." Elena studied the bones with practical eye. "No breaks. No scattered pieces. Just sat down and stopped."
They moved the skeleton outside. Buried it shallow but respectful. Neither knew prayers, so they just stood quiet for a moment. Acknowledging another soul who'd tried and failed.
Inside, Elena started a small fire. Real warmth for the first time in days. Kael's ribs had begun healing thanks to her salve, but everything still hurt. His spirit emerged partially, basking in the heat.
"Tea." Elena produced a battered pot. "Made from things that grow around spirit sites. Tastes terrible but helps with healing."
She was right about the taste. Like drinking boiled sadness. But warmth was warmth. They sat on the floor, backs against the wall, and pretended this was sustainable.
"Tell me how you ended up in Camp Three."
Elena stared into her cup. Silent long enough that Kael thought she wouldn't answer. Then:
"I was a merchant. Textiles mostly. Good business. Honest living." Her voice carried the weight of before. "Started noticing things. Shipments going missing. Always near certain routes. Always with certain marks on the manifests."
"Spirit marks?"
"Three interlocking circles. Took me months to recognize the pattern." She laughed. Bitter sound. "Should have stopped there. Should have accepted that some questions don't want answers."
But she hadn't. Kael understood that drive. The need to know. To understand. Even when understanding meant danger.
"I tracked the shipments. Found they all went to facilities up north. Heavily guarded. More than valuable textiles warranted." Elena refilled her cup. "So I asked. Wrong people. Wrong questions. Wrong time."
"They took you immediately?"
"No. First they took my daughter."
This... Kael's spirit went still. The cabin suddenly felt colder despite the fire.
"Mira. Twelve years old. Loved numbers. Wanted to help with the business." Elena's hands tightened on the cup. "One day she was there. Next day she wasn't. Just gone. Like she'd never existed."
Another Mira lost to this system. The name hit Kael unexpected. His sister's face overlapped with this unknown girl. Both consumed by things they never understood.
"I went to the authorities. They said no record of her existed. No birth documentation. No school enrollment. Nothing." Elena's voice stayed steady. Terribly steady. "That's when I knew. They didn't just take her. They erased her."
"So you kept pushing."
"What else could I do? She was my daughter." The fire crackled. Filled the silence. "Took them three more weeks to come for me. Black coats at dawn. Very efficient. Very polite. Explained I'd been marked for processing due to 'spiritual contamination.' Like I was diseased."
She described the journey to Camp Three. The sorting process. How they separated prisoners by categories. Physical laborers in one section. Intellectuals in another. Those who'd seen too much in special holdings.
"They told us we were being quarantined. For public safety. Some believed it." Elena shook her head. "Amazing what people will accept if you make it sound official."
"When did you learn the truth?"
"First feeding day." Her voice dropped. "They brought out the Category Fours first. The broken ones. The ones who'd given up. Marched them into the central courtyard. We thought it was some kind of inspection."
But it wasn't. Elena described the Domain spirit's emergence. How reality bent around it. How the temperature dropped until breath froze. How the prisoners simply... stopped. Not died. Stopped. Like toys with springs wound down.
"It didn't even touch them. Just breathed. And they fell." She stared at memory. "The guards collected the bodies after. So casual. Like harvesting wheat."
This matched what Kael had seen. But hearing it from survivor perspective... different weight. Different horror.
"How long were you there?"
"Eight months. Two hundred forty-three days." The precision hurt. "You count everything. Days. Meals. People who disappear. Numbers keep you sane. Give you something to control."
She explained the full system. Wake at fourth bell. Thin gruel that barely qualified as food. Work details to keep them busy. Tired. Compliant. Evening counts to see who'd broken today.
"They had specialists. Kiratashi trained in psychological pressure. They'd visit certain prisoners. Talk to them. Just talk. About their families. Their futures. Their fears." Elena touched her scarred arms. "Some couldn't handle the talks. Marked themselves. Trying to feel something they controlled."
"But you survived."
"I adapted." No pride in the statement. "Learned their patterns. Became useful in small ways. Helped with food distribution. Prisoner organization. They like that. Makes their job easier. Extends your timeline."
She talked about the other prisoners. The networks that formed. How they shared information. Warnings. Comfort when possible. How bonds formed fast and broke faster when someone's number came up.
"There was a woman. Senna. Taught me about the salves. The teas. Things that grew around spirit sites had properties. Could heal. Could hide scent. Could do many things if you knew how." Elena's expression softened slightly. "She lasted seven months. Went quietly when they called her."
"Did anyone ever escape before you?"
"Rumors. Always rumors." Elena poked the fire. "Someone's cousin's friend who got out. Someone who found a way past the barriers. But I never saw proof. Just stories to keep hope alive."
Until her escape. She described it with clinical detachment. Guard rotation error. Moment of opportunity. Sprint for the fence during shift change. Spirit barriers that burned but didn't stop her completely.
"I think they let me go." The admission came quiet. "The barriers should have killed me. The guards should have caught me. But I made it out. Like they wanted a runner. Someone to spread fear. To let others know what waited."
Or maybe she'd just been lucky. But Kael understood the doubt. The wondering. Why me? Why did I survive when others didn't?
"I found three other camps while running. All the same. Different locations. Different spirits. Same system." Elena finished her tea. "Thousands of people. Tens of thousands. All feeding monsters to keep worse monsters at bay."
"The Council's justification."
"Maybe it's even true." She shrugged. "Maybe without the camps, Domain spirits would run wild. Maybe humanity needs this system. Doesn't make it right. Doesn't bring back the fed."
They sat quiet. Processing. The fire burned lower. Outside, wind picked up. Real storm coming. They'd be stuck here at least another day.
"Your friend. Mya." Elena broke the silence. "She helped people in Camp Seven. Like Senna helped in Three. Like others help everywhere. Small resistances. Tiny rebellions. Refusing to break completely."
"She was always stubborn."
"Good. Stubbornness matters there. Gives others something to hold onto." Elena stood. Checked the door's barricade. "I think that's why some last longer. Not physical strength. Not even mental. Just pure stubborn refusal to give satisfaction."
Kael's spirit painted agreement. It had been painting while they talked. Small images on the cabin walls. Faces from Elena's story. People who'd existed. Who'd mattered. Who'd been consumed.
"Waste of energy," Elena noted. But she studied each face. Memorizing. "Though I suppose remembering is its own rebellion."
"Someone should remember them."
"Yes. Someone should." She returned to the fire. "Tomorrow I'll tell you about the network. The rumors I've been following. These settlements up north. Probably nothing. But..."
But they had nowhere else to go. Nothing else to try. Just movement and hope and the weight of all the souls they couldn't save.
"Mira. My daughter." Elena said suddenly. "She had brown hair. Always tangled. Couldn't keep it neat no matter what. Loved raspberry tarts. Hated mornings. Sang off-key but with enthusiasm."
Details. Specific. Real. Refusing to let erasure be complete.
"She laughed at her own jokes. Drew flowers on everything. Named the stray cats that lived behind our shop." Elena's voice stayed steady. "Existed for twelve years. Mattered for all of them. Whatever they fed her to doesn't change that."
No. It didn't. Kael thought of his Mira. Twisted by spirits but before that... bright. Curious. Annoying in the way little sisters specialized in. Real.
"My sister liked to find pretty things." He offered. "Collected them. Showed everyone. Always excited about some new discovery."
"Until she found the wrong pretty thing?"
"Silver hairpin. Blue stone." The memory hurt. "One night to change everything. One origin item to destroy a family."
"They're everywhere. These things that carry death." Elena pulled her blanket closer. "Hidden in plain sight. Waiting. And we never know until too late."
Truth. Hard truth. The world was full of hidden spirits. Hidden items. Hidden dangers. And humans stumbled through it blind. Fed to monsters when they stumbled wrong.
But also... humans survived. Adapted. Helped each other when possible. Refused complete surrender even in camps designed to break them. That had to count for something.
His spirit painted one more face. Mya. Smiling. The image lasted longer than usual. Getting stronger? Or just desperate to preserve her?
"We should sleep." Elena banked the fire. "Storm will hit soon. Travel tomorrow will be harder."
But neither moved. Too comfortable. Too strange. Sitting in an actual shelter. Talking like humans. Remembering the dead without guards listening.
"Tell me about the settlements." Kael finally asked. "Even if it's just rumors."
So Elena did. Stories of a woman named Vera. Former Kiratashi who'd escaped. Gathering survivors. Teaching them to hide. To fight in small ways. To resist the system that consumed them.
"They say she's building something. Not just another hiding place. Something more." Elena's eyes reflected firelight. "Probably wishful thinking. But wishful thinking is all some of us have."
All any of them had, really. But it was enough to keep walking. Keep hoping. Keep refusing to lie down and be consumed quietly.
The storm hit as Elena finished talking. Wind howled. Rain hammered the roof. But inside they were dry. Warm. Alive. Small victory but victory nonetheless.
Tomorrow they'd travel north. Face whatever waited. Probably die trying.
But tonight they remembered the dead. Spoke their names. Refused their erasure.
Mira. Senna. Mya. And thousands more.
Fed but not forgotten. Consumed but not erased.
Small rebellion. Tiny resistance. But in a world of monsters feeding on humans, even small resistances mattered.
They had to matter.
They had to.