The scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meats wafted through the air as Elara and Kenric approached the village square. The villagers were bustling about, stringing colorful ribbons from tree branches and setting out tables covered with freshly picked flowers and woven baskets filled with fruit. A bonfire crackled in the center, casting warm, flickering light over the gathering crowd.
Kenric took a deep breath, the tension from their long journey visibly melting from his shoulders. "It feels good to be around people again," he said, glancing at Elara.
Elara nodded absently, her gaze flickering around the square. There was something off about this village. Everything was too perfect. The villagers' smiles seemed strained, their laughter too loud.
Before she could share her unease, Maris approached them with a broad grin.
"Ah, there you are! We could use some extra hands with the preparations," she said, clapping her hands together. "It's tradition that all guests take part in our celebration."
Kenric's face lit up. "We'd be happy to help."
Elara tensed. She didn't want to get pulled into whatever celebration these villagers were planning. She needed time to think – to figure out who the woman from last night was and why the villagers were acting so strangely.
"Elara?" Kenric's brow furrowed. "Are you alright?"
She forced a tight smile. "I'm sorry but my mind is elsewhere. I think I'll take a walk to clear my head."
Maris' expression shifted slightly, but she covered it with a polite nod. "Of course. Please, make yourself at home."
Kenric hesitated. "Are you sure? You should rest-"
"I'm fine," Elara cut in, keeping her voice steady. "Go on. I'll meet you later."
With a lingering look, Kenric followed Maris toward a group of villagers arranging tables, leaving Elara to slip away unnoticed.
Elara wandered the village, her senses on high alert. The laughter and music faded as she moved toward the quieter outskirts, where the cottages were spaced farther apart, and the forest crept closer.
Her mind kept drifting to the mysterious woman who had visited them the night before – the way her dark cloak concealed her and the urgent warning in her voice.
Who was she? And why had she disappeared without a trace?
Elara approached a woman kneeling by a garden bed. "Excuse me. I'm looking for someone."
The woman looked up, brushing dirt from her hands.
"A woman with dark hair and an even darker cloak. Do you know her?"
The woman tilted her hear, a puzzled expression on her face. "No. I don't. Is she a friend of yours?"
Elara shook her head. "No, just… someone I thought I saw."
The woman offered a polite smile before returning to her work.
Elara's stomach twisted. She thanked the woman and moved on. She continued her search, stopping several more villagers, but none of them recognized the woman she described. Each denial only deepened her unease.
It was as it the woman had never existed at all.
As the sun began to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows over the village, Elara found herself drawn to the outskirts. She passed rows of cottages, each one warm and inviting, until she spotted a stone building at the very edge of the village.
Unlike the other homes, this one appeared abandoned. Ivy climbed its walls, and the windows were shuttered tight.
Elara's pulse quickened. Something about this place felt wrong.
Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, she approached the door. The heavy wooden frame was secured with an iron latch, but her fingers traced along the edge of the doorframe until they found a loose stone.
With a bit of effort, she pried the stone free, revealing a small, rusted key hidden within.
Her heart pounded as she slipped the key into the lock with trembling hands and turned it. The latch clicked, and the door creaked open, revealing a dark, misty interior.
Elara hesitated at the threshold, the scent of damp earth and old wood filling her nose. She stepped inside, her footsteps echoing in the silence.
The room was sparsely furnished – a wooden table, a few chairs, and shelves lined with jars and scrolls. Dust covered every surface, as if no one had been inside for years.
But what caught her attention was the tapestry hanging on the far wall.
The intricate weaving depicted a forest, much like the one they had traveled through, but in the center stood a shimmering veil, glowing faintly in the dim light. A figure stood before the veil, their face hidden beneath a dark hood.
Elara's breath caught in her throat.
Was this the veil they were searching for?
She moved closer, her fingers trembling as she reached out to touch the tapestry. The fabric felt rough beneath her fingertips, but as she pressed her hand against it, she noticed something strange – the tapestry shifted slightly, as if concealing something behind it.
Elara lifted the heavy fabric, revealing a hidden alcove.
Inside was a chest, carved with strange symbols that seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive.
Her fingers hovered over the symbols before she carefully lifted the lid.
The chest opened with a soft creak, revealing its contents; a bundle of letters tied with a silk ribbon, a small vial of dark liquid, and a pendant shaped like a crescent moon, its surface engraved with runes.
Elara carefully untied the ribbon around the letters and unfolded the first page. The handwriting was elegant, each word meticulously crafted.
To those who seek the truth,
The veil is not salvation. It is corruption.
Beware what lies beyond.
A shiver ran down her spine as she read the warning.
The next letter was even more troubling:
The villagers serve the veil. They do not know it yet, but their loyalty is bound by something far older than this forest. Those who come seeking passage are trapped, lured by false kindness.
Elara's mind raced.
Had the villagers been stalling her and Kenric? Were they preventing them from reaching the veil?
She reached for the vial of dark liquid, holding it up to the faint light streaming through the window. It swirled ominously, dark and viscous.
Suddenly, a noise outside startled her – the crunch of footsteps on gravel.
Elara quickly placed the items back in the chest and lowered the tapestry. She slipped out the door, locking it behind her, just as a group of villagers passed by.
Their voices drifted toward her.
"…must be ready by midnight."
"Everything is in place. They won't leave."
Elara's heart pounded.
They were talking about her and Kenric, they must to have been.
As darkness fell over the village, the celebration reached its peak. The bonfire roared, casting dancing shadows across the square. Kenric, unaware of Elara's discoveries, laughed with the villagers, a mug of cider in hand.
"Elara!" he called out when he saw her. "Come join us!"
She forced a smile and made her way over to him.
"We need to talk," she whispered, her voice tense.
Sensing her unease, Kenric's smile faded. "What's wrong?"
"Not here. Later. We have to leave this place."
Kenric nodded, his concern growing. "Alright. Once things start winding down, we'll slip away."
As they stood by the fire, Elara's mind churned with questions.
What was the village hiding?
And how much time did they have before it was too late?