The town hall loomed over the square, its stone façade weathered but proud, banners fluttering in the morning breeze. Alex and the Shadow Weaver approached with purpose, the silver thread hidden in Alex's pocket and the pendant warm against their chest. The Weaver's shadow stretched long behind them, drawing wary glances from townsfolk lingering in doorways.
Alex paused at the heavy oak doors. "If the mayor sees us-"
"He will," the Weaver replied softly. "But the truth must be found, even in the teeth of opposition."
Inside, the hall was bustling. Clerks shuffled papers, townspeople queued to register complaints about drought, blight, and trade. Mayor Hargrove's office door stood open at the far end, the man himself hunched over a desk, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Alex and the Weaver slipped past the crowd, heading for the side corridor that led to the archives. The corridor was narrow and dim, lined with portraits of past mayors-some stern, some smiling, all watching with silent judgment. At the end, a locked iron gate barred their way.
Alex produced a small iron key, a relic entrusted to them by the elder at the chapel. The lock clicked open. Beyond, a spiral staircase descended into cool darkness.
The air grew thick with dust and the scent of old parchment. At the bottom, the archives stretched in every direction-rows of shelves heavy with ledgers, scrolls, and brittle tomes. In the center, a vault door stood embedded in the wall, its surface etched with the same web motif as Alex's pendant.
The Weaver traced the pattern with a shadowed fingertip. "This is it. The oath of truth and transparency. But the vault is sealed by more than locks."
Alex pressed the pendant to the center of the web. The metal warmed, and a faint blue light traced the lines of the carving. The vault door shuddered, then swung open with a groan.
Inside, the chamber was lined with shelves of records and artifacts. At its heart stood a stone pedestal, atop which rested a leather-bound book-the Oath Ledger. Its cover was embossed with the names of Ravenswood's founders.
Alex approached reverently, opening the ledger to the first page. The ancient ink was faded but legible:
"We, the people of Ravenswood, swear that no truth shall be hidden from the eyes of our kin. In darkness or in light, knowledge is our shield."
The Weaver nodded. "Read further. There must be a record of the first corruption, and how it was faced."
Alex turned the pages, scanning entries about droughts, disputes, and strange occurrences. Then a passage caught their eye:
"In the year of the long shadow, a sickness spread, and trust faltered. The oath was nearly broken, but the truth was brought to light: a poison in the well, hidden by fear. Only when all saw the danger did healing begin."
Alex's pulse quickened. "It's all here-proof that hiding the truth only made things worse. They faced it together, and that's how they survived."
Suddenly, footsteps echoed above. The mayor's voice rang down the staircase, sharp and suspicious. "Who's down there? This is a restricted area!"
Alex and the Weaver exchanged a glance. The Weaver's eyes glimmered. "Show him. Let him see what his ancestors swore to protect."
Alex stood tall as Mayor Hargrove descended, two guards at his heels. He stopped short at the sight of the open vault, his face a mask of anger and alarm. "You have no right-"
"We have every right," Alex interrupted, holding up the ledger. "Read this. Your own family's name is here. You're not just the mayor-you're a guardian of the oath."
Hargrove hesitated, then took the book. He read in silence, the lines of his face softening as he turned the pages. The guards shifted uneasily.
Finally, Hargrove looked up, his voice quieter. "I… I didn't know. My father never spoke of this. Why now?"
Alex met his gaze. "Because the web is fraying. The Unraveler feeds on secrets and division. If you keep the truth from the people, you help it win."
The Weaver stepped forward, his presence gentle but firm. "This is not about blame. It is about choice. Will you honor the oath, or let fear rule?"
For a long moment, the mayor said nothing. Then he closed the ledger and nodded. "Call a meeting. Tonight. I will tell them everything."
Relief washed through Alex. The Weaver's shadow seemed to lighten, the air in the vault less oppressive.
As they climbed back to the surface, Alex felt hope flicker anew. The truth was out. The oath would be renewed. But as they emerged into the sunlight, a cold wind swept through the square, and Alex saw the same child from before watching with ancient, knowing eyes.
The Unraveler was not finished. But for the first time, Ravenswood was ready to face it-together.