The sun hung low in the sky, casting hues of amber and crimson across the quiet village of Windfield. Shadows stretched long across the cobblestone streets as Emma walked toward the source of the crash. The air was cool, the day nearing its end, and the faint scent of woodsmoke lingered from nearby chimneys.
As she approached the street adjacent to hers, the sight of the carriage came into view. Its polished black surface gleamed faintly in the waning sunlight, though one of its large wheels lay detached a few meters away. The carriage's ornate design suggested wealth—its edges gilded in gold and its doors etched with elegant floral patterns. Two sleek black horses stood tethered to the front, their glossy coats catching the evening glow.
A middle-aged man dressed in a simple driver's uniform—Gary, Emma overheard his name. He was inspecting the damage. His weathered hands ran along the horses' reins, ensuring they were unharmed, before turning his attention to the broken wheel.
"Gary, what's going on out there?" came an impatient voice from within the carriage. The speaker was unmistakably young, her tone sharp with irritation. "This is a new carriage. Why on earth did the wheel fall off?"
Gary, already retrieving the wheel from where it had rolled, replied in a respectful tone. "Apologies, Miss. It seems the rough road loosened the screws. I'll fix it right away."
He hurried to the back of the carriage, rummaging through a small compartment before pulling out a toolkit. Kneeling beside the broken wheel, he attempted to reattach it. The metallic screech of the screwdriver echoed faintly as he worked.
Emma lingered at a distance, her curiosity piqued. She observed silently, her silver-white hair catching the last rays of sunlight as she stayed hidden behind the corner of a nearby fence.
Gary's voice broke the silence. "The screws won't tighten. Holy goddess, they're slacked!"
"What do you mean they're slacked?" the girl snapped, her voice tinged with frustration. "I have places to be before the festival starts, and now I'm stuck here!"
Gary rubbed his forehead, visibly flustered. "Don't worry, Miss. I'll head to the market and fetch a replacement. But... who will stay with you? It's not safe to leave you alone in an unfamiliar village. We don't know much about Windfield."
"I told you before, Gary, I don't need a guard," the girl replied firmly. "This town is peaceful enough. Just go quickly—I don't want to be late."
Gary hesitated but eventually nodded. "As you wish, Miss. I'll return as fast as I can." He set off briskly down the cobblestone street, disappearing into the distance.
Emma exhaled softly, turning back toward her own street. This has nothing to do with me, she thought. The village festival was just around the corner, and she had her own preparations to finish. She began walking home, her boots clicking softly against the stone path.
A faint green light caught the corner of her eye—a magical grasshopper, flitting lazily through the air. Its shimmering trail glowed faintly as it passed her. Emma's lips twitched in a wry smile, but she let it go. Her earlier pursuit felt far removed now, like a distant memory.
As she walked on, the stillness of the evening was shattered by a sudden, piercing scream.
Emma froze, her eyes widening. The sound came from the direction of the carriage.
Her heart quickened. What now? she thought, glancing back over her shoulder. The amber hues of the sunset cast long shadows over the street, but the carriage remained visible in the distance, its elegant silhouette outlined against the fading light.
Another scream echoed, this one louder, sharper—filled with unmistakable fear.
Emma's hand instinctively tightened into a fist. She hesitated for a brief moment, torn between caution and curiosity. Then, with a deep breath,
she turned .....