The corruption on the bridge was just the beginning. By midday, dark tendrils had spread beneath the cobblestones of Ravenswood's main square, creeping like ink through water. Most villagers couldn't see it, but Alex noticed how they unconsciously avoided the affected areas, their faces clouding with unease as they passed.
"It's happening faster than I feared," the Shadow Weaver said as they walked the perimeter of the marketplace. His voice was low, meant only for Alex's ears. "The Unraveler has found a foothold in their doubts."
Alex watched a merchant argue with a customer over the price of bread-a common enough sight, but there was something different in their expressions: a hardness, a suspicion that hadn't been there before. Nearby, two children who had been playing together were pulled apart by their mothers, each woman eyeing the other with distrust.
"We need to gather the elders again," Alex said, clutching the pendant that hung warm against their chest. "Show them what's happening before it's too late."
The Weaver's expression darkened. "It may already be. Look there."
At the far end of the square, Mayor Hargrove addressed a growing crowd. A tall man with silver-streaked hair and a perpetual frown, Hargrove had always been skeptical of Ravenswood's legends. Now he gestured emphatically, his voice carrying across the square.
"...cannot allow strangers to spread panic with tales of shadows and magic! Our town faces real problems-trade disputes, the drought, the illness in the eastern quarter. These require practical solutions, not superstition!"
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Alex felt a chill that had nothing to do with the autumn air. The mayor's words were reasonable, logical-and exactly what the Unraveler would want them to believe.
"He doesn't understand what he's doing," Alex whispered.
"Or perhaps he does," the Weaver replied, his eyes narrowing. "Not everyone who serves the darkness knows their master."
As they approached the gathering, Alex noticed how the corruption seemed to flow toward the crowd, feeding on their fear and division. The pendant pulsed in warning, and the silver thread in Alex's pocket felt heavier, as if responding to the threat.
Mayor Hargrove's eyes locked with Alex's, his speech faltering momentarily before he continued with renewed vigor. "And here comes our self-appointed 'protector,' with that shadow-creature in tow. Tell us, Alex, what new dangers should we fear today? What sacrifices must we make for your crusade?"
The crowd turned, faces a mix of curiosity, skepticism, and outright hostility. Alex felt the weight of their stares but stepped forward anyway. This was the moment that mattered-not the battles in hidden chambers, but here, in the light of day, before the people who needed to understand.
"I'm not asking for sacrifices," Alex said, voice steady despite the pounding heart. "I'm asking you to remember. Remember the oath your grandparents swore. Remember how Ravenswood has always stood against the darkness-not through denial, but through unity."
A few heads nodded, but the mayor scoffed. "Pretty words. Meanwhile, real problems go unsolved while we chase shadows."
"The shadows are the real problem," Alex insisted, pulling out the silver thread. It glimmered in the sunlight, drawing gasps from those closest. "This town was built on a promise to stand together. The web that protects us is weakening because we've forgotten that promise."
The Weaver stepped forward, his presence causing several people to back away. "Your mayor speaks of practical concerns. But what could be more practical than the survival of your town? The drought, the illness-these are symptoms of a deeper corruption."
Mayor Hargrove's face flushed with anger. "Convenient explanations that place you at the center of our salvation. I've heard enough." He turned to the crowd. "A town meeting tonight. All are welcome-except those who would divide us with fear."
As the mayor strode away, the crowd dispersed, their conversations hushed but heated. Alex noticed how they split into groups-those who believed, those who doubted, and those caught in between. The corruption beneath the cobblestones seemed to pulse with satisfaction.
"We're losing them," Alex said, despair creeping into their voice.
The Weaver placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, his touch surprisingly warm for a creature of shadow. "Not yet. There is still time. But we must find proof they cannot deny-something that bridges the gap between their practical concerns and the truth we know."
Alex thought of the journal, the lantern, the pendant-all pieces of a puzzle that had convinced them of the Weaver's truth. But what would convince an entire town?
"The second oath," Alex said suddenly, remembering the Weaver's words about multiple promises that protected Ravenswood. "Where was it sworn?"
A glimmer of approval shone in the Weaver's eyes. "In the old records hall, beneath what is now the mayor's office. It was an oath of truth and transparency-that no leader would hide knowledge from the people, even when that knowledge brought fear."
Alex felt a surge of determination. "Then that's where we need to go. If Mayor Hargrove is truly concerned with practical solutions, he should welcome the whole truth."
As they set off toward the town hall, neither noticed the small figure watching from the shadows-a child with eyes too old for their face, smiling with quiet malice as the division in Ravenswood deepened.
The Unraveler's web was spreading, thread by thread, heart by heart.