The trio pressed onward into the heart of the Darkwoods, their cloaks soaked and heavy from the relentless drizzle. Though the sun still hung somewhere beyond the rainclouds, it offered no warmth, only a dull gray glow that barely pierced the oppressive canopy above. The forest lived up to its name—trees hunched like old men, their trunks gnarled and bark mottled with moss and strange fungus. Branches reached across the path like skeletal fingers, creaking eerily in the chilled wind.
A thick fog rolled along the ground, swirling around the horses' hooves as if the earth itself breathed. Every gust of wind whispered secrets, or warnings, or both. Shadows flickered and danced with deceptive life, contorting into beastly shapes only to vanish again.
Reu rode at the front, sitting tall in his saddle, his jaw set and eyes narrowed. His hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, and every fiber of his being was alert. His senses—sharpened by years of danger—picked up every flutter of wing, every crunch of twig. There was something wrong in the air. Not just the fear that came with the forest's reputation, but something deeper. Something watching.
He pulled his horse to a slow trot, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Toby," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.
Toby, riding right behind him, answered without hesitation. "I know."
Brea remained quiet, her gaze darting through the trees. She was still shaken from the silhouette they saw earlier—a tall figure, half-man and half-beast, that vanished before they could react.
Suddenly, a sharp rustle erupted from a thicket.
Before anyone could blink, something lunged from the undergrowth. A blur of motion, a flash of claws—and Brea was snatched away, disappearing back into the shadows.
"BREA!" Toby screamed, leaping off his horse.
Reu was only a second behind. Without exchanging a word, both him and Toby sprang into action, bolting into the woods with urgent desperation. They weaved through the twisted underbrush, dodging low-hanging branches and leaping over thick roots that clawed at their boots like the forest itself sought to slow them. Leaves whipped past their faces, the cold wind stinging their eyes as they pushed deeper into the shadows, hearts pounding and breath sharp in their lungs.
Brea struggled in her captor's grip, muffled cries escaping past a rough furry hand around her mouth. She glimpsed her assailant's face—human-like, but wrong. Too wild. Something mystical.
After a moment of chasing, they reached a clearing where a dead tree stood like a black monument. Brea was bound at the top, unconscious, limp.
"Brea!" Toby cried, stepping forward.
Reu threw his arm across Toby's chest. "Wait. It's a trap."
At that instant, the attacker struck again, leaping from the shadows.
Reu spun and met the assault with steel. Sparks flew as his blade clashed against feral claws. He grunted, eyes widening.
"Claws?"
Toby vanished in a flicker of shadow, reappearing behind the creature. He aimed a precise strike, but the creature twisted in midair, delivering a powerful kick.
Toby blocked it instinctively with his left arm and leg, skidding backward and crashing into a tree.
"Damn, that hurt," he muttered as he stood, brushing off bark.
The creature now stood before them. Covered in tattered clothing, its limbs bore the unmistakable shape of a wolf. A low, animalistic growl escaped its throat.
Reu stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The creature responded with laughter—low, guttural, unsettling.
It charged.
Reu met its attack with a flurry of slashes. The creature was agile, dodging with unnatural grace, but it hadn't anticipated Toby. The boy appeared again beside it and delivered a crushing punch to its temple.
The impact echoed through the trees.
The creature was thrown back, tumbling through the undergrowth. It rose to one knee, shaking its head, clearly dazed.
Reu and Toby advanced slowly.
The creature held up its clawed hands. Then, before their eyes, the claws began to retract. Hair receded. Skin replaced fur. In moments, they were staring at a man.
Toby scowled. "Don't mess with the Vesper Knights."
Reu stepped closer. "Reveal your face. Now."
The man pulled back the hood and cloth. Pale yellow slit eyes gleamed in the dim light. Lines like whiskers adorned his cheeks.
Toby took a step back. "What... are you?"
The man reached down, grabbed a fistful of dirt, and hurled it at their faces. Reu cursed, wiping his eyes. When they looked again, the man was gone.
Toby blinked. "He got away." He quickly turned to Brea.
"Brea!"
He flickered atop the dead tree and quickly untied her. As they descended, Reu stood frozen, watching the forest.
"Reu!?" Toby called.
He turned, joining them.
"What was that thing?" Toby asked, Brea still resting against his chest.
Reu hesitated. "A lycan."
"A lycan? You mean those werewolf legends?"
Reu nodded grimly. "I thought they were myths. Looks like I was wrong."
Just then, a soft rustle filled the air. Around them, pinkish flowers began to bloom. From their centers, a shimmering pink mist rose.
Reu's eyes widened. "Don't breathe it in! Cover your—"
But Toby had already collapsed.
Reu gritted his teeth. "Seriously!?"
He grabbed both Toby and Brea, lifting them with difficulty. But the mist was thick now. His vision blurred. The world spun.
"What the..."
And then he fell.
"In the heart of Hollow Village, within a weathered meeting hall whose stone walls echoed with the weight of past decisions, a gathering had begun. Villagers sat in tense silence, the air thick with unease. At the far end of the long wooden table, slightly elevated on a carved oak chair, sat an elderly man draped in a heavy cloak.
His name was Andros Skall—the Headman of Hollow Village. His stern eyes scanned the room, and though age bowed his back, the weight of leadership kept him upright."
Andros slammed his fist on the table, voice sharp and rising. "What are your real concerns?" he barked, eyes narrowing at the restless crowd.
A man stood among the villagers, his face worn and tired. "The disappearances," he said firmly. "People are still vanishing. Do you even have a plan to stop it?"
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room.
Andros straightened in his seat, frustration seeping into his voice. "That problem has plagued us for years. My men and I investigate every report. We search the woods, question outsiders. But we've found nothing. Nothing!"
Another voice cut through the din, sharper this time. "Then what do you expect us to do? Keep clinging to your empty promises, hoping one day you'll suddenly have the answer?"
Andros's gaze darkened. "You speak as if you're being fed lies by our enemies. Perhaps the corrupt cities beyond the ridge are paying you to stir rebellion."
Gasps filled the room.
"We're speaking the truth about Hollow Village!" the villager snapped. "This is our home—our families are the ones disappearing!"
"Enough!" Andros roared, rising from his chair. "You all think you can overthrow me? Try it. But you'll find I'm not so easily removed."
The room fell into stunned silence. Slowly, villagers began filing out, some shaking their heads in disappointment, others casting wary glances over their shoulders. Andros's guards closed ranks around him, hands resting on their hilts, as the hall emptied in bitter silence.
Just as the last of the angry crowd filtered out of the hall, the heavy doors groaned shut. Moments later, several of Andros's guards returned from patrol, their boots crunching on gravel as they approached.
"Sir!" one of them called, urgency in his voice. "Look what we found."
Three limp bodies—Toby, Reu, and Brea—were dragged forward, dirt-streaked and unconscious, but breathing.
Andros stepped down from the platform, his brow furrowed. "Who are they? Travelers? Traders? Or Ashkins?"
"Hard to say, sir," the guard replied. "They look too young to be merchants. Don't seem like Ashkins either—no markings, no gear."
Andros eyed them warily. "Lock them up. We can't trust anyone these days. I can't even trust my own people in Hollow Village."
Without another word, his men hauled the three away, securing them behind the meeting hall, bound and watched under torchlight.
Creaking wood. Chains. A cold wind.
They were inside a rusted cage behind an old hall. Behind the iron bars, flickering torches lit the dusty back of a building. Reu shook Toby awake.
"Toby. Wake up. We're locked up."
Toby stirred groggily. "My head... Where are we?"
"I don't know. But this cage... it's reinforced. I can't pry it open."
Toby tried to flicker—but nothing happened. He blinked in confusion.
A man stepped into view, arms crossed. His tone was cold, analytical.
"I've been watching you. You," he pointed at Toby, "are a Heartstone bearer, right? But your powers won't work inside that cage."
Reu glared. "Who are you?"
"Mikael. I serve Headman Andros. And you won't be escaping that easily."
He left, silent and sure.
Soon after, Brea stirred.
"Where... where are we?"
"Locked up," Reu answered. "And Toby's still weak."
More time passed. Eventually, a group approached. An old man in thick robes stood at the center.
"Good day," he said, voice falsely pleasant. "I am Andros Skall. Headman of Hollow Village. I apologize for the... accommodations."
"Please," Brea said urgently. "We're not enemies. Let us go."
Andros sighed. "I cannot trust strangers. Not anymore."
"We were attacked," Reu growled. "Something in the woods. Then flowers released some kind of sleeping mist."
Andros frowned. "Ah... the Postania blooms. Rare. Dangerous. What are your names?"
"Brea. Reu. That's Toby."
Mikael leaned in to headman Andros and whispered.
Andros raised a brow.
"So... a Heartstone bearer."
Reu asked, "Are we in Opesia?"
"Indeed. This is Hollow Village."
He stepped close to the cage and tapped it thoughtfully. Reu suddenly grabbed him by the collar.
"Let us go, old man."
Mikael reacted instantly, gripping Reu's wrist with unnatural strength.
Reu stared into his eyes. Pale yellow slit pupils. Lines on his face.
Reu backed off slowly. "You... you were the one in the forest."
Mikael didn't answer. He merely smiled.