The air in Thalewood Village crackled with tension. The council's arguments spilled into the open, and villagers began to take sides. Orin, Calen's father, stood at the center of a growing crowd, his voice rising with frustration.
"We've wasted enough time chasing mysteries!" Orin shouted. "Every minute spent on the shadows weakens our defenses. If the empire attacks, we won't stand a chance!"
Seris stepped forward, her calm demeanor steadying those who looked to her for guidance. "And what happens when the shadows overwhelm us, Orin? You didn't see them. They aren't just a nuisance—they're a force that will destroy us if we ignore them."
Villagers murmured among themselves, their fear palpable. Calen stood on the edge of the crowd, his jaw tight. The crystal in his pocket felt heavier than ever, its faint pulse a reminder of the burden he carried.
A commotion by the gates broke the tense exchange. One of the scouts came running, his face pale. "Riders are approaching!"
The villagers rushed to defensive positions. From the treeline, a group of twenty figures emerged. They rode slowly, their hands raised to show they carried no weapons. At the front was a tall man with broad shoulders and a scar cutting across his jaw. Beside him, a young girl with a serene expression clung to the reins of her horse.
The riders stopped just outside the gates. The leader dismounted and raised his voice. "We come in peace. My name is Garran, and we're deserters from the empire. We seek refuge."
The crowd bristled with suspicion. Calen stepped forward, signaling for the gates to remain closed.
"You expect us to believe deserters just happened to stumble upon our village?" Calen's voice was firm, carrying over the whispers. "How can we trust you're not spies sent to destroy us from within?"
Garran met his gaze, unflinching. "You have every reason to doubt us," he admitted. "But we left the empire because we couldn't stomach their cruelty any longer. They burned villages and slaughtered innocents. We refused to be a part of it."
"And her?" Calen asked, nodding toward the girl.
"This is Leira," Garran replied. "She's a healer. Her gift has kept us alive through the wilds."
Leira stepped forward, her voice soft but steady. "I can help your injured. All I ask is a chance to prove my intentions."
Calen studied them for a long moment. The crowd shifted uneasily, waiting for his decision. Finally, he spoke. "You'll come in, but under watch. Garran, you and your people will surrender your weapons. Leira, if you truly want to help, show us your gift."
Garran nodded and signaled to his group. They disarmed and stepped inside the gates under the watchful eyes of the scouts. Leira knelt beside an injured villager, her hands glowing faintly as she worked. The crowd gasped as the man's wound began to close.
"Her power is real," Seris murmured to Calen.
"That doesn't mean they're not hiding something," Finn muttered, his gaze sharp.
As night fell, Finn approached Calen with grim news. "I found this." He held up a torn scrap of parchment marked with an imperial seal. "Someone in the village is feeding information to the empire."
Calen's heart sank. "The mercenaries?"
"Maybe," Finn replied. "But this kind of sabotage feels calculated. Someone's playing a dangerous game."
Seris joined them, her expression troubled. "I sense magic at work—subtle but powerful. The spy might not even know they're being manipulated."
Before they could investigate further, a horn sounded from the outskirts of the village. Screams followed as shadows breached the defenses, slipping through gaps in the walls. Garran's group sprang into action, fighting alongside the villagers, but the chaos was overwhelming.
The battle lasted only minutes, but the toll was devastating. Three villagers lay dead, their bodies marked with eerie blackened wounds that refused to heal. Seven more were injured, some gravely, including two mercenaries who had fought valiantly to protect the weaker fighters.
Calen drew his sword, his mind racing. The crystal in his pocket flared, filling him with a strange energy. As he fought, one thought consumed him: the shadows weren't the only danger.
Somewhere in the chaos, the real enemy was waiting.