The village square buzzed with activity. Merchants barked out prices, children darted between stalls, and the fountain's steady stream whispered a soothing rhythm at the heart of it all. Yet beneath the lively hum, unease lingered—like a shadow no one dared to name.
Kara made her way up the cobblestone streets, her basket tucked close to her side. The salty breeze from the lake followed her uphill, carrying memories of childhood days spent by the shore. Those memories felt distant now, smothered by the ever-present fog.
She passed houses with weathered shutters, their wood creaking softly in the wind. The streets converged toward the square, and there, the village came alive.
Stalls lined the edges, filled with vegetables, dried fish, and handmade goods. Villagers traded gossip as easily as they traded coins. For a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.
But Kara could feel it—the tension in the air. Every laugh sounded forced, every smile strained. Even the fountain's melody seemed quieter today, drowned by the weight of unspoken fears.
A small group of villagers huddled in a corner, their voices low but sharp. Kara slowed her pace, pretending to rearrange the vegetables in her basket.
"I've never seen so many soldiers," one man muttered, shaking his head."Maybe, they prepared something, you know, winter was harsh this year after all"
Another voice joined in, harsh with frustration.
"We're stretched thin, feeding them as well as ourselves, do they care !"
Kara's ears perked. She kept her head down, careful not to draw attention.
"It's more than that," said a third villager, bitterness lacing their tone. "They vanish into the fog with those strange devices… like they're searching for something in particular now."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the group.
"Rumors say they're trying to harness the fog's power."
"Like the sect before, why would they do that? It has been years now !"
Kara's lips tightened, but she didn't stop to argue. Villagers had been angry for weeks now, and whispers like these had become common.
Her gaze flicked past them. A pair of soldiers leaned against a stone wall nearby, silent and watchful. Their hands rested on their weapons, their faces unreadable. They never joined the villagers' chatter. They never smiled.
Kara quickly turned down a narrow alley, her steps quickening. Better to leave soldiers and rumors behind—for now.