The walk to Oakhaven was mostly uneventful. A quiet procession, interrupted only by the nervous shuffling of the two boys ahead. Ren kept a watchful distance, his senses alert, ensuring no unexpected threats or curious eyes followed their small group. Lyra walked beside him, occasionally making quiet comments about the changing plants or a subtle shift in the air, hints of her deep bond with the land. She seemed to understand Ren's preference for silence, filling it only when necessary.
As the sun climbed higher, the trees eventually thinned out, revealing rolling farmlands dotted with small homesteads. The air became thick with the scents of wood smoke, livestock, and freshly turned earth. Distant voices, the clanging of a blacksmith's hammer, and the faint sounds of a busy town drifted on the breeze. Oakhaven, a modest town beside a winding river, came into view. Its wooden palisade, old but strong, surrounded a cluster of buildings, with smoke rising lazily from their chimneys.
The two boys, visibly relieved, quickened their pace when they spotted the town gates. "Finally!" the taller one exclaimed, the fear finally fading from his voice. "We made it!"
Ren watched them practically sprint towards the gates, eager to leave the wild forest behind. He didn't expect to see them again, nor did he care to. They were just a temporary variable.
"They'll spread tales of 'Stone Giants'," Lyra mused, a faint, almost amused smile on her lips. "It will just add to the local legends. Most people won't truly believe it."
"Good," Ren replied, his voice flat. He preferred the less obvious truths to stay hidden. Mass panic was never helpful.
They approached the main gate. Two guards, clad in simple leather jerkins and armed with spears, stood watch. They looked bored, but their eyes sharpened slightly as Ren, cloaked and carrying a sword, approached. Lyra, in her travel-worn clothes, looked less intimidating, but her green eyes had a certain strength.
"Welcome to Oakhaven," one guard grunted, a burly man with a thick beard. His gaze lingered on Ren's blade. "What's your business in town, traveler?"
"Supplies," Ren stated, his voice even, revealing nothing. He offered no name or destination. Lyra stepped forward slightly.
"We've come from the northern roads," Lyra said, her voice calm and clear. "Seeking rest and provisions. My name is Lyra." She didn't offer Ren's name. He appreciated her discretion.
The guard eyed them for another moment, then shrugged, satisfied enough. "Alright, just keep your blade sheathed, traveler. No trouble in Oakhaven." He nodded them through.
The town itself was a lively hub of activity. The central market square was filled with color and noise: merchants calling out their wares, farmers selling fresh produce, children laughing as they chased stray dogs. The smell of baking bread mingled with the sharp scent of cured hides and the sweet aroma of spiced wine. It was a stark contrast to the silent, ancient forest they had just left.
Ren moved through the crowd with practiced ease, a quiet eddy in the boisterous stream of people. He noticed the subtle things: the nervous glance of a pickpocket, the whispered conversation of two cloaked figures near a shadowy alley, the way some townsfolk seemed to avoid looking at each other. Information, even in a small town, was always present if one knew how to read the signs.
Lyra walked beside him, her head slowly turning to take everything in. "It's been a while since I've been in a town this busy," she murmured. "We Rune Weavers tend to stay away from crowds. It's easier to sense the land's balance when there isn't so much human noise." She chuckled softly. "Though I admit, a warm meal and a soft bed sound wonderful right now."
"First, supplies," Ren stated, his gaze fixed on a general store. He rarely indulged in comfort before taking care of necessities.
They bought dried rations, a fresh water skin, a new whetstone for his blade, and a few small, nondescript pouches. Ren paid with a handful of silver coins, showing no reaction to the cost. Lyra, meanwhile, stocked up on basic medical herbs and a small, oddly shaped pouch of powdered chalk.
"For my runes," she explained when she noticed his glance. "Sometimes, the flow of Divine Power needs a little physical guidance."
As they exited the store, Lyra suddenly paused, her eyes narrowing, her attention drawn to a small group of men gathered near the town's well. They wore matching dull tunics with a strange, angular symbol stitched onto their sleeves—a jagged lightning bolt striking a stylized mountain. There were five of them, their postures stiff and their expressions grim. They seemed out of place in the lively market.
"That symbol," Lyra murmured, a frown deepening on her face. "I've seen it before, in very old, dark records from my ancestors." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "They're called the Stone Breakers. Or at least, that's what the old texts named them. A group said to have once sought to 'unmoor' the world. To 'reclaim the raw power of the earth' from the Heartstones."
Ren's gaze sharpened, his focus now entirely on the group. Stone Breakers. The name alone brought to mind the chaos they had just witnessed. An organization with a purpose. This was the kind of information he sought.
"What do you know of them?" Ren asked, his voice low.
"Not much beyond the name," Lyra admitted, her brow furrowed in concentration. "They were believed to be long gone, faded into myth. They sought to shatter balance, to release the pure, untamed Divine Power that the Heartstones contain. My ancestors, the Rune Weavers, fought against them centuries ago when the world was much wilder. If they are truly active again…" Her voice trailed off, a chilling implication hanging in the air. "This is far more serious than I imagined."
One of the Stone Breakers, a man with a scarred face and a cruel glint in his eye, turned his head slowly, scanning the crowd. For a moment, his eyes seemed to linger on Ren and Lyra before moving on. Ren felt no immediate recognition from the man, but a flicker of suspicion.
"We need to find out why they are here," Ren stated, his gaze locked on the group. "And if they are connected to the Guardian's agitation."
"Agreed," Lyra said, her earlier weariness replaced by a renewed sense of purpose, mixed with apprehension. "But we need to be careful. If they are the Stone Breakers, they are ruthless. And their power, from what my ancestors' records suggest, can be unnatural."
Ren led them away from the well, towards the quieter edge of the market. They found a small, unassuming inn named 'The Sleeping Bear.' It wasn't fancy, but it looked clean and, more importantly, had a back exit.
Inside, the inn was warm and smelled of roasted meat and ale. Ren secured a small, private room for them, paying enough coin to discourage questions. Lyra gratefully sank into a chair, but her eyes, like Ren's, remained vigilant.
"So, the Stone Breakers," Ren murmured once they were alone, the door firmly shut. "Their methods?"
Lyra leaned forward, her voice hushed. "The records are vague, filled with warnings. They didn't just smash things. They used twisted forms of Divine Power to shatter the natural bindings. They could disrupt Aura, even unravel simple magic. They were said to make the very ground tremble, to conjure crude, earth-born creatures not unlike the Guardian, but darker and more malevolent. They believed the Heartstones were prisons, and they were liberators of true power." She shuddered slightly. "They were fanatic."
Ren processed this. A fanatic group, powerful enough to disturb a Grove Guardian, with the means to corrupt Divine Power. This added a new, dangerous layer to the unfolding mystery. He thought of the Guardian's agitation, its desperate flailing. It wasn't just disturbed; it was suffering. The Stone Breakers weren't just waking them; they were torturing them.
"We need more information," Ren concluded. "Their numbers here. Their goals. And their movements."
Lyra nodded. "I can try to sense any lingering Divine signatures they might have left in the town if they used their power. But it would be faint here, diluted by other energies."
Ren considered it. "Try after dark. Less noise. For now, we rest and observe." He moved to the small window, peering out onto the dusty street below. The town seemed peaceful and bustling with life. But beneath the surface, a new, ancient threat was stirring, a dark echo from a forgotten time. And Ren, the quiet shadow, found himself once again drawn into the heart of it. This was no longer just a disruption; it was a brewing storm.