The village square was alive with murmurs, though the sun had barely risen. Smoke from hearth fires mingled with the scent of damp earth, but it did little to calm the unease in Eldervale.
Hunters leaned against carts, nursing bruises and cuts, while villagers pressed close, eager for news. Every tale was louder than the last: the beasts, the shadows, the red eyes that burned in the darkness.
Arden kept his hood low, walking at the edge of the crowd. Every whispered glance felt like a knife. He could hear his name muttered more than once, always with a tinge of fear.
"They say he froze out there," a woman whispered to her neighbor.
"Didn't he hear them coming?"
"Some say the boy is… marked. That forest never lets its victims go."
Arden's hands clenched at his sides. Marked… The word felt heavier than any wound he'd carried from the beasts themselves.
The council of elders gathered at the square's center. Elder Bran's voice cut through the chatter, commanding attention. "We must prepare. The forest is restless, and we cannot risk another attack. Scouts will go, walls must be reinforced, and everyone must stay vigilant."
Garrick stepped forward, his eyes narrowing at Arden. "With respect, Elder, we cannot ignore what we saw. Arden, he froze. He heard voices that no one else did. And the beasts… they seemed to sense him."
A hush fell over the crowd. Arden felt every pair of eyes piercing him like arrows.
Bran's gaze softened as he studied Arden. "These are dangerous times, boy. Do not mistake fear for truth. But understand this, if fear grows stronger than reason, even I may not protect you from its consequences."
Arden nodded, swallowing hard. Words stuck in his throat, unspoken, and he moved silently towards the edge of the square.
Maya fell into step beside him, her expression stormy yet worried. "Ignore them," she said quietly. "But you need to talk to me, Arden. If you don't… they'll consume you. They'll consume all of us."
"I…" Arden hesitated, his chest tight. The urge to tell her everything clawed at him, but he swallowed it down. "I can't, Maya. Not yet."
Her eyes softened, but her voice was firm. "Then don't hide too long. I can't fight for you if I don't know what I'm fighting against."
Later, as twilight bled over the village, Arden slipped past the watchfires and towards the riverbank. The river murmured softly, carrying the weight of the day's judgment.
From the shadows near the square, he overheard two villagers speaking in low tones.
"He's dangerous," one said. "If the forest knows him, then perhaps… maybe we should get rid of him before it comes for all of us."
Arden froze, heart hammering. The threat in the forest had not ended, it had simply shifted. Now, suspicion and fear had rooted themselves in the village.
He sank to the ground, clutching his hood, staring into the flowing water. The demon stirred inside, silent for once, almost patient. Arden knew with a sinking certainty: the real monsters may not be in the forest anymore. They were here, in Eldervale, and they had already marked him.
The sun had sunk lower, painting the village in shades of amber and gray. The square had emptied somewhat, but the whispers followed Arden wherever he went.
Children peeked from behind doorways, mothers called them back quickly, and men in the square lowered their heads when his eyes passed them. Fear was contagious, and now it clung to Arden like a second skin.
He moved toward the edge of the village, hoping for a moment of silence. Maya fell into step beside him.
"You don't have to face them alone," she said softly. "They're scared, yes, but you… You've carried more than anyone knows."
Arden shook his head. "It's not just fear. They're… thinking. Judging. Even the council will question me if something else happens."
She reached for his hand. "Then let them question. You don't answer to them, you answer to yourself. And to me."
Her words should have been comforting, but Arden's chest ached with doubt. The demon stirred within him, whispering:
"See? Even she fears what you are. They all will. No one can save you, not even her."
He shook his head, trying to push the voice down. But a cold wind swept through the village, carrying with it a faint, distant murmur, almost like a voice calling his name.
Arden froze.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.
Maya frowned. "Hear what?"
He looked at her, fear prickling at his spine. "Nothing… It's nothing."
She didn't press, but her hand stayed on his arm. Arden wanted to tell her, wanted to trust her, but the words wouldn't come.
Later that evening, he found himself at the riverbank again, the same spot where Maya had left him earlier. The water reflected the dimming light, rippling softly as if breathing. He stared at his reflection and felt the demon shift beneath his skin, restless and impatient.
"They watch you," it whispered. "They will betray you before the forest ever reaches them. You belong to the shadows, boy. Accept it."
Arden clenched his fists, teeth grinding. "No. I… I won't let that happen. Not yet."
A shadow moved in the corner of his eye. He spun but the village was quiet. Only the river flowed, carrying the faintest murmur again, so soft he almost didn't catch it:
"Vessel… you cannot hide."
Arden's pulse quickened. The forest, the beasts, the voice they weren't gone. They had followed him here, carried by whispers and fear. Even in the village, he could not escape.
He sank to the riverbank, head in his hands, the scarf Maya had dropped earlier clutched tightly against his chest. He understood now more than ever: suspicion in the village, fear in the hearts of those around him, and the other voices in the shadows all were pushing him toward a fate he couldn't yet see.
And when it came… he wouldn't have the choice to fight alone.