It was an odd piece of ore, a sickly shade of green, with patches of sickly yellow and black, marring its otherwise metallic appearance. While its appearance grotesque and aberrant, its once shiny and pristine surface marked by pulsating, fleshy growths writhed and squirmed of their own accord.

It was the stench that first grabbed his attention, a smell of decomposition that had wholly been unsavory. Rowan scratched his head, then proceeded to run his fingers through his tousled hair. His mind in the fog of despair began to arise, it coming out back into focus on the ore. He scanned for others but saw none. Everything else appeared normal. The mountain side was filled with vibrant greenery and colorful flowers, creating a rich and diverse ecosystem. Below Willow and Spruce trees stood tall, their branches reaching toward the sky.

Rowan, who had spent most of his life in the mountains, was familiar with every plant and ore, even if he didn't know their names. His friend Alrick had introduced him to hunting for timber and tinder at a young age, showing him the best sources of lumber and explaining why they were superior. Alrick had also taught Rowan about the flora and fauna they encountered during their excursions, treating him as an equal and encouraging his curiosity. This ignited a passion for learning in Rowan, driving him to constantly strive for a deeper understanding of the world around him.

The ore,though,he had only seen once before and it wasn’t out in the mountainside. He had found a tidbit of it at his sisters house, on the scale he had purchased for her on his name day.  Mika was a well-known merchant who journeyed far and wide in search of rare and remarkable items. Her reputation drew in wealthy patrons who sought out the treasures she uncovered.

Despite the allure of rare finds, Mika took more pleasure in the thrill of the hunt than in the possessions themselves. She was always eager to part with her latest discovery, eager to move on to the next adventure. Rowan often marveled at her ability to let go of prized possessions without hesitation, knowing that his her true passion lay in the journey rather than the destination.

Since childhood, Rowan found solace in spending time with Alrick. Being an orphan, he didn’t have a family. The children at the orphanage were like his brothers and sisters; Andrew and Mika more so than others. They  constantly looked out for one another often telling others they were their own family. Their bonds, although strong, didn’t include having similar interest. Besides Rowan, the others showed no interest in the forge or Alrick's adventures, preferring to socialize with children their own age. As the years went by, Rowan eventually moved out of orphanage and out onto his own, but continued to visit mostly Mika, unlike Andrew and who seldom made an effort to stay connected. Whenever Mika was absent, he would leave notes in a jar above the cupboard containing updates on news, gossip, and interesting sights she had come across.

Three weeks prior, when Andrew had broken the news to him about Mika’s murder, Rowan defied warnings to stay away and instead went to her home. Rowan was past the age he listened to his brother. Wanting to spare him, the people there didn’t let him see the body. But still, he saw the sickening pools and splashes of blood across the floor. When Rowan came close, voices fell silent except to offer sympathy. In hushed voices, he overheard conversations about the legends and myths of creatures, beast and magic venturing out from beyond the veil, but he pushed the thoughts to the side.

Rowan was shocked at how her small home had been torn apart and ransacked. Only a few things had remained untouched. One of them being the message jar in the cupboard which held a chunk of the ore. What she wanted him to know, he couldn’t guess.

Despite having his brother by his side, Rowan was consumed by grief and depression, feeling a deep sense of abandonment. Even as a grown man, the feelings of being orphaned and alone in the world haunted him, echoing the loss he had felt when his parents gad abandoned him. While Mika had been frequently absent in the past, Rowan had always found comfort in the knowledge that she was somewhere out there and would eventually return. Now, that sense of security and reassurance was gone forever.

Despite Andrew’s adamant refusal to involve him in the investigation of Mika’s murder, Rowan was undeterred. He had hired skilled trackers to pursue the killer, but Rowan couldn't shake his own desire to uncover the truth. With Andrew’s request to stay out of the search, Rowan kept the ore hidden from him and ventured out alone each day in pursuit of its origin.

For three weeks, Rowan trekked through the Westfall foothills, exploring the forest trails and beyond in search of the elusive vein. Despite his determination, the source of the ore remained elusive, and Rowan returned each day empty-handed, plagued by the mystery of its origins.

Finally, against his better judgement, he gave into the whispers in the back of his mind and ventured farther up into the upper mountainside, above the trees, near the veil. Haunted by the whispers, was a feeling that somehow he had known why Mika had been murdered. Teased and tormented, but out of reach, the whispers laughed at him for being blind to it. Rowan reminded himself that it must be the grief playing tricks, not something real.

Now that he had found the vein, he had hoped it would have given him some sort of answer. Now that he had it though, he didn’t know what to think. The whispers in his mind had stopped teasing him, and instead he began to languish over them. He knew it was his own mind overthinking and that he needed to stop giving the whispers a life of their own. Alrick had taught him to be better than that.

Rowan looked at the ore now before him, in what appeared to be its own agony of pain. He thought about Mika’s own pain and death. The ore had been there. Now the ore was killing this vein; it couldn’t be anything good. Though unable to help his sister, he could help here in stopping chunks of the ore from spreading into the rest of it. Pulling the pickaxe from his pack, and gripping it tightly, he swung, and with powerful muscles clashed against the stone.

That’s when the ore ruptured.

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Part of the infected bursted forth and hit his hand, causing him to jump back in pain and surprise. Inspecting it, he found bits embedded into his wound. That’s when he knew, this ore was trouble.  He reached for his knife to dig out the bit, but the knife wasn’t there. Momentarily surprised, he realized that admit his depression, he had forgotten something as basic as taking his knife on his travels. Using his pickaxe and fingernails instead, he tore and dug at the bit. As his concern grew, the bit, as if alive, wiggled and dug down deeper. He dragged the pickaxe across the wound, in hopes of snagging the bit. The more he dug, however, the deeper it went. Nausea hit him as he picked at the wound making it bigger, so he stopped. The bit had disappeared into the oozing blood.

Scanning his surroundings, Rowan's eyes stopped upon a cluster of roots that might offer relief from the searing pain in his hand. Remembering the teachings of Alrick, he recognized the distinct shape and leaves of an Arnica plant amidst the undergrowth. With deft fingers, he plucked the plant from the earth and swiftly snapped the stem, coaxing a viscous ooze to trickle from the base. Applying the soothing substance to his wound, he exhaled in relief as the pain dulled. A faint smile appeared on his lips as he took a moment to reflect on the valuable lessons imparted by Alrick during his childhood, grateful for the knowledge that now proved invaluable in his time of need. Exhaling, the potent juice began to numb the throbbing ache, offering a momentary reprieve from the agony.

Despite the temporary relief offered by the root, the haunting presence of the embedded bit remained a constant source of unease for Rowan. The worry lingered ominously in his thoughts, clouding his mind with a persistent sense of dread. Like a nagging sensation that wouldn't go away, he couldn't  shake the feeling of discomfort as he contemplated how the foreign object had insidiously burrowed deeper into his flesh.

Kneeling down, Rowan gently nestled the Arnica plant back into the welcoming embrace of the earth, ensuring its roots were snugly tucked beneath the soil. Using firm pats, he compacted the ground around the plant, securing it in place to foster its growth and ensure its vitality for the future. Rising to his feet, a sense of satisfaction washed over him as he admired his handiwork, a small but meaningful act of nurturing the natural world around him.

With a weary sigh, Rowan lifted a sleeve to wipe away the beads of sweat that had gathered upon his brow, the humid air clinging to his skin in a suffocating embrace. Despite the oppressive heat, a gentle breeze danced through the dense foliage, offering a fleeting respite from the sweltering conditions.

As Rowan scanned his surroundings, a disquieting hush descended upon the forest, the familiar sounds of nature abruptly falling silent. Unease tightened its grip on his heart, compelling him to search for the elusive source of the eerie stillness. His gaze darted frantically from one shadowed nook to the next, until the ground shook  beneath his feet.

The ground trembled and heaved, resembling the work of a burrowing mole. Rowan stumbled as he thought he saw something brown and large erupt from the ground and then dive back into the earth; this left him with a creeping unease. Struggling to comprehend the source of the strange event, fear took hold of him, its grip tightening with each passing moment. Visions of eerie myths and legends, whispered in dark corners, crowded his thoughts, sending shivers down his spine.

Despite his fears, Rowan pushed them aside and started running after it following the rising landmass. He tried to dismiss the notion of mythical beings emerging from the veil as mere superstition, the idle chit-chat of bored townsfolk. However, he couldn't shake the curiosity gnawing at him as he struggled to make sense of the scene before him. It seemed impossible for something so large and vast to cause such a tremor or disturbance.

Though he attempted to convince himself that it was just a trick, perhaps a quake or some other natural phenomenon, but deep down he knew better. The fear and uncertainty continued to gnaw at him as he chased after it, desperate to uncover the truth.

Looking up while running, he headed for the path that skirted around the trail knowing that up ahead was a drop off point. Dodging branches and pushing through brush that scratched his legs, he navigated the rocky terrain, mindful of streams that posed as obstacles. Gasping for breath and feeling the chill of sweat on his skin, he pushed on, desperate for another glimpse of the strange creature to no avail. Stumbling off the trail, he scanned the landscape, hoping to spot traces of the creature's destructive path.

Searching the terrain below he saw the thing, far away and too small for him to tell what it was. He squinted adjusting his hands and shielding his eyes from the sun in hopes that it would help him see it better. Before he could get a look at it, it was out of sight. He hadn’t even been able to tell what it was other than it being large and brown.

Winded, Rowan slumped and sat down on a boulder next to him. With his hands on his knees he steadied his breath and picked up a rock and threw it toward the lake down below in frustration.  Maybe he should tell Andrew about the ore and the giant brown burrowing beast. He knew he would laugh and shake it off like it was nothing. He himself had laughed at it.

No, It was clear to Rowan that Andrew would not react well to him being so close to the veil and trying to uncover the truth behind Mika's death. Despite the fact that his brother's constant reminders and lectures could be frustrating, Rowan understood that they came from a place of genuine care. As a grown man, he could easily dismiss Andrew's instructions with a shake of his head and a chuckle, but he couldn't ignore the unmistakable look of displeasure in Andrew's eyes that followed. His brother's concern was evident in every scolding and every warning, even if it sometimes felt suffocating.

Rowan took another rock and threw it. He shouldn’t have felt singled out. Andrew was always telling people what to do, even their sister.  He pushed his harsh judgement aside as today was a big day for Andrew. Today Andrew would become an advisor to the  noble family of Ignis. It was a dream he had always talked about and one that he never gave up on, despite the challenges he faced along the way. Rowan knew that he needed to support his brother on this important day. It was only right as Andrew too had lost a sister.

Rowan hoped he wouldn't embarrass his brother at the scheduled ceremony later, which would be followed by a festive celebration and feast where he was expected to attend, his hunger becoming apparent as he thought about the food. His stomach ached as he thought of  the succulent dishes he would be tasting later.

As he took a moment to reflect on his thoughts, the rustling of leaves and the gentle sway of the trees caught his attention. His sharp eyes scanned the dense forest around him, from the ancient, towering pines to the winding trails below. He was a seasoned ranger, well-versed in the ways of the wilderness, and took great pride in his duty to safeguard those journeying through the highlands.

With a sense of vigilance that came from years of experience, he meticulously examined every shadowed nook and cranny, looking for any out-of-place detail that could hint at potential danger. His presence in the forest was both a watchful protector and a beacon of reassurance for the weary travelers passing through, knowing that they were under the skilled guidance of a ranger who would always go above and beyond to ensure their safety.

As he scanned the area, his eyes were drawn to something small in the distance. The blurry outline caught his attention, standing out against the backdrop. Initially, he thought it might be his friend Dain, but upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a woman. She moved gracefully, dressed in travelers garb, her figure distinctly outlined by the trees and brush around her. Each step she took was deliberate and confident, displaying the movements of a seasoned traveler navigating the wilderness with fierce precision.

Further back, the movements of other figures caught his attention. They moved wildly, thrashing about without concern for sound or stealth. These vile creatures showed no respect for the forest, their intentions unclear. One thing was certain, they would eventually intersect. Whether they were tracking the girl or searching for their next prey, the encounter would be ominous. Their blatant disregard for the forest's peace and their frenzied actions revealed their malevolent purpose. A confrontation with their target was imminent, promising danger and violence whether they were pursuing the girl or on a hunt for any unsuspecting victim.

Something didn't feel right. First the ore, then the creature, now the woman. This was spelling trouble, and lately, trouble seemed to be his constant companion.