CHAPTER 2: SHADOWS OVER EIRWEN HOLLOW

Kaelen woke the next morning to the sound of rain tapping lightly against the thatched roof of the cottage. The early light was dim and muted, casting the small kitchen in shades of grey. The fire in the hearth had burned low during the night, and a faint chill lingered in the air. It was a quiet, unassuming start to what would become an unforgettable day.

After a simple breakfast of porridge and fruit, Kaelen stepped outside to begin his morning chores. The rain had softened to a drizzle, a misty curtain that draped over Eirwen Hollow. The village, usually bustling with early morning activity, seemed hushed—only the occasional shout of a villager or the clucking of hens broke the silence. Even the children, who usually filled the air with their laughter and games, were absent from the streets.

Kaelen headed toward the stables, where he was supposed to help tend to the animals. The damp earth squelched under his boots as he walked, and the cool air nipped at his face. The feeling of unease from the previous day had not left him; if anything, it had deepened overnight. There was something in the air, something intangible yet undeniably present, that made him feel as though the village itself was holding its breath.

As Kaelen reached the stables, he found Tarin, the stablemaster, already at work. Tarin was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a gruff demeanor, but his love for the animals in his care was evident in the gentle way he handled them. He was brushing down one of the horses, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Morning, Kaelen," Tarin greeted him without looking up. His voice was a deep rumble, like distant thunder.

"Morning, Tarin," Kaelen replied, picking up a brush to help with the task. "Quiet day, isn’t it?"

"Aye," Tarin said, his brow furrowing. "Feels like the whole village is waiting for something."

Kaelen nodded, though he didn’t say anything. Tarin had put into words the very feeling that had been gnawing at him since yesterday. As they worked in silence, the only sound was the soft brush of bristles against the horse’s coat and the steady rhythm of rain on the stable roof.

When the horses were fed and groomed, Kaelen made his way to the market square to gather supplies for his mother. The drizzle had lessened, but the sky remained overcast, casting a dreary light over the village. The market, usually lively with vendors hawking their goods and villagers haggling over prices, was subdued. The stalls stood in a neat row, but the vendors’ voices were quieter than usual, their smiles forced.

Kaelen moved through the market, exchanging polite greetings with those he passed. He stopped at Yara’s stall, where the old woman was selling freshly baked bread and jars of honey. Yara had been a friend of Kaelen’s mother for years, and she always had a kind word or a piece of advice for Kaelen whenever he visited her stall.

"Good morning, Yara," Kaelen said as he approached.

Yara looked up from arranging her goods, her wrinkled face breaking into a smile. "Morning, lad. What brings you here so early?"

"Just picking up some things for Mum," Kaelen replied, selecting a loaf of bread from the stall. "She’s been feeling a bit under the weather."

Yara’s smile faltered slightly. "I’ve noticed she’s been keeping to herself more lately. Tell her I’ll come by later with some of my herbal tea—might do her some good."

"I’m sure she’d appreciate that," Kaelen said, though he knew his mother would likely decline the visit. Lyana had become more withdrawn over the past weeks, and Kaelen had learned not to push her when she needed space.

As Kaelen paid for the bread and honey, Yara leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Kaelen, have you heard any news from outside the village?"

Kaelen frowned, surprised by the question. "No, why?"

Yara glanced around, as if making sure no one was listening, before continuing. "There’s been talk of strange things happening in the nearby towns—disappearances, shadows moving where there shouldn’t be any. Some say it’s just rumors, but… I don’t like the sound of it."

The unease Kaelen had been feeling deepened into a cold knot in his stomach. "Do you think it’s connected to what’s happening here?"

Yara shook her head, her expression troubled. "I don’t know, lad. But something’s not right. Just… be careful, and look after your mother."

"I will," Kaelen promised, though the reassurance felt hollow. He thanked Yara for the bread and honey, then made his way back through the market, his thoughts racing.

Kaelen’s route home took him past the edge of the village, where the forest pressed close against the outer cottages. The trees loomed tall and dark, their branches twisting together like skeletal fingers. Kaelen had always loved the forest, finding comfort in its wild beauty, but today, it seemed different—darker, more foreboding.

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As he passed the treeline, something caught his eye—a flicker of movement just beyond the trees. Kaelen stopped, his heart pounding in his chest. He strained his eyes, peering into the shadows, but whatever he thought he had seen was gone. The forest was still and silent, save for the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Kaelen shook his head, chastising himself for being jumpy. "It’s just the wind," he muttered under his breath, quickening his pace. But the nagging sense that something was watching him lingered, sending a shiver down his spine.

When Kaelen returned to the cottage, he found his mother seated at the table, a book open in front of her. She looked up as he entered, her expression softening into a smile.

"You were gone longer than I expected," Lyana remarked, her voice gentle.

"I ran into Yara at the market," Kaelen explained, setting the bread and honey on the table. "She said she’d bring some tea over later."

Lyana’s smile faded slightly, but she nodded. "That’s kind of her."

Kaelen hesitated, then decided to voice the thoughts that had been troubling him all morning. "Mum, have you heard anything strange from the nearby towns? Yara mentioned something about disappearances and… shadows."

Lyana’s reaction was immediate—her face paled, and she closed the book with a snap, as if shutting out the very idea. "Kaelen, you mustn’t pay attention to rumors. People talk, especially when they’re afraid. But we’re safe here in Eirwen Hollow. We’ve always been safe."

But her words, meant to be reassuring, only served to heighten Kaelen’s concern. His mother’s sudden defensiveness, the way her hands trembled slightly as she spoke—it was clear that she was hiding something, something that frightened her.

"Mum, please," Kaelen said softly, taking a seat across from her. "If something’s wrong, I want to know. I can handle it, whatever it is."

For a long moment, Lyana remained silent, her gaze fixed on the table. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Kaelen, there are things you don’t understand, things I’ve tried to protect you from. But if what Yara says is true… then perhaps it’s time you knew."

Kaelen’s heart raced, a mixture of fear and anticipation churning in his chest. "Knew what?"

But before Lyana could answer, there was a loud knock at the door. The sound was so sudden and forceful that it made them both jump. Lyana shot Kaelen a warning glance, then rose to her feet.

"Stay here," she whispered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Kaelen watched as his mother crossed the room to the door, every muscle in her body tense. She opened it just a crack, peering out into the rain-soaked morning. Kaelen couldn’t see who was on the other side, but he could hear the low murmur of voices—his mother’s calm but strained, the other deep and unfamiliar.

After a few moments, Lyana closed the door and turned back to Kaelen, her face pale. "I have to go out for a little while," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "There’s something I need to take care of."

Kaelen stood up, his concern deepening. "Mum, what’s going on? Who was that?"

Lyana forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "Just a messenger from the next village. Nothing to worry about."

But Kaelen wasn’t convinced. "Let me come with you."

"No," Lyana said firmly, her expression softening as she stepped closer to him. She placed a hand on his cheek, her touch warm and reassuring. "Stay here, Kaelen. I won’t be long, and when I get back, we’ll talk. I promise."

Kaelen wanted to argue, but the look in his mother’s eyes stopped him. He nodded reluctantly, and Lyana kissed his forehead before heading to the door.

"Lock the door behind me," she instructed, pausing at the threshold. "And don’t open it for anyone until I return."

With that, she was gone, leaving Kaelen alone in the cottage, the door clicking shut behind her. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the soft patter of rain against the windows.

Kaelen stood there for a moment, his mind racing. Something was wrong—he could feel it in his bones. But what could he do? He had promised his mother that he would stay, and despite his worry, he didn’t want to break that promise.

But as the minutes ticked by, and the rain continued to fall, Kaelen’s anxiety grew. He paced the small kitchen, glancing out the window every few seconds, searching for any sign of his mother’s return.

Finally, he could stand it no longer. Grabbing his cloak from where it hung by the door, Kaelen made up his mind. If his mother wouldn’t tell him what was happening, he would find out for himself.

But as he reached for the door, a chill ran down his spine, stopping him in his tracks. The air in the cottage had grown cold, the shadows in the corners seeming to stretch and deepen. It was as if the very walls were closing in on him, the darkness pressing against the light.

Kaelen hesitated, his hand hovering over the door handle. He had never felt anything like this before—a sense of dread so powerful it was almost suffocating. Every instinct screamed at him to stay inside, to lock the door and wait for his mother to return.

But something else, something stronger, pushed him forward. Taking a deep breath, Kaelen steeled himself and opened the door.

The rain had stopped, but the sky remained overcast, the clouds heavy and dark. The village was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of daily life replaced by a silence so profound it was unsettling.

Kaelen stepped outside, his cloak wrapped tightly around him. He had no idea where his mother had gone or what she was dealing with, but he was determined to find out. He would protect her, no matter the cost.

And as he set off down the empty street, the feeling of being watched returned, stronger than before. But Kaelen didn’t turn back. He couldn’t. Whatever was out there, whatever was coming, he would face it head-on.

For the first time, Kaelen realized that the safety of Eirwen Hollow was an illusion, a fragile shield against the darkness that lay beyond. And that darkness was closing in.