Harris could feel the weight of the investigator's presence even as he and Liam walked toward the center of the village. The whispers had turned into something more; Finnian's tales had taken root, and Harris could feel the atmosphere shift around him, the suspicions growing like weeds in his neglected garden. The scent of freshly baked bread mixed with the dampness of the morning, but it did little to ease the tension that clung to the air.

“Do you think he’ll question everyone?” Liam asked, his voice low as they passed a group of villagers who quickly turned away, pretending they hadn’t been staring. The rustling of their skirts and the creak of a cart wheel were the only sounds breaking the uneasy silence.

“He’ll question everyone and anyone if it means he gets what he wants,” Harris muttered. He forced a smile, nodding politely to the villagers. “But I doubt he’ll find much. I’ve been very boring, after all. Just a humble gardener.”

Liam snorted. “Sure. Humble, and totally not mysterious at all.”

Harris shot him a look, but before he could reply, they spotted Martha standing near the bakery, her face flushed and her eyes wide. She looked around nervously before rushing over to them, the flour dust on her apron rising slightly with each hurried step.

“Harris,” she whispered urgently, “He’s been asking questions. About you, about where you came from… He’s even been to my house.”

Harris’s jaw tightened, and he fought to keep his expression neutral. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, a mix of frustration and worry. “And what did you tell him?”

“I told him you were harmless,” Martha said, her voice shaking slightly. “But he didn’t seem convinced. He kept asking, kept digging. I… I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up, Harris.”

Harris reached out, squeezing her arm gently. Her skin was cold despite the warmth of the morning. “It’s alright, Martha. You’ve done more than enough. I’ll handle this.”

“How?” she asked, her eyes searching his face. “He’s not going to stop, Harris. And Finnian’s making things worse. He’s been telling everyone that you’re hiding something—something dangerous.”

“Finnian couldn’t find his way out of a barrel,” Harris said, trying to inject some humor into his voice. He forced a chuckle, but it felt hollow even to him. “Don’t worry. I’ll deal with Finnian, and I’ll deal with the investigator too.”

“You’d better do it soon,” Martha said, glancing over her shoulder, her eyes darting around as if the investigator might appear at any moment. “He’s talking to Liam’s captain right now. And from the looks of it, he’s not giving up.”

Harris followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the investigator speaking with the captain of the village guard, a tall man with a stern expression. The captain glanced in Harris’s direction, his brow furrowed, and Harris could feel the knot in his stomach tighten, the weight of his secrets pressing harder.

“I’ll take care of it,” Harris said, his voice firmer now. “Just… trust me.”

Martha hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. But be careful, Harris. We don’t want any trouble.”

“No trouble,” Harris promised, though he wasn’t entirely sure he could keep that promise. Trouble had a way of finding him, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it.

As Martha hurried away, Harris turned to Liam, who was watching the investigator with a worried expression. “This is getting out of hand,” Liam said. “What are we going to do?”

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“We’re going to talk to him,” Harris said, his tone resigned. “If he wants answers, maybe it’s time I gave him some.”

Liam’s eyes widened. “You’re going to tell him the truth?”

“Not all of it,” Harris said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Just enough to make him go away.”

They made their way over to the investigator, who straightened as they approached, his eyes narrowing as he studied Harris. The investigator’s presence felt like a cold wind cutting through the warmth of the village, his gaze unrelenting.

“Mr. Harris,” he said, his tone icy. “I was just speaking with Captain Alden here. It seems no one knows much about you. Quite the mystery, wouldn’t you say?”

Harris shrugged, keeping his expression calm. “I’m just a gardener. Came here for a quiet life. Didn’t think my past was worth much interest.”

“And yet, there are whispers of strange occurrences,” the investigator said, his eyes never leaving Harris’s face. “People disappearing into the forest, odd lights at night… and your name keeps coming up.”

“Rumors,” Harris said lightly. “You know how small towns are. People like to talk.” He could hear the nervous bleating of a goat nearby, adding an odd sense of normalcy to the charged moment.

The investigator stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I think there’s more to you than you’re letting on, Mr. Harris. And I intend to find out what it is.”

Harris met his gaze, the tension between them palpable. He could feel Liam tensing beside him, ready to step in if needed. But before anything could escalate, Harris took a deep breath and spoke.

“Alright,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a weight that made the investigator pause. “You want to know who I am? I’ll tell you. But not here. Let’s go somewhere private.”

The investigator hesitated, then nodded. “Lead the way.”

Harris turned, gesturing for Liam to stay behind. “I’ll handle this, kid. Just… trust me.”

Liam frowned but nodded, his eyes filled with concern. “Be careful, Harris.”

Harris gave him a reassuring smile before leading the investigator away from the village square, toward the edge of Greenhollow where the forest loomed. The scent of pine and damp earth filled the air as they walked in silence, the tension thick between them, until they reached a small clearing just beyond the tree line. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the rustle of leaves the only sound breaking the stillness.

Harris stopped, turning to face the investigator. “You want to know who I am?” he said, his voice low. “Fine. I’ll tell you. But you’re not going to like the answer.”

The investigator’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

Harris took a deep breath, his mind racing. He couldn’t tell the full truth—couldn’t reveal that he was once Malakar, the dark lord who had terrorized the lands. But maybe… maybe there was a way to give the investigator just enough to satisfy him without endangering the village.

“I used to be someone else,” Harris said, choosing his words carefully. “Someone who made mistakes. Bad ones. I came here to start over, to leave that life behind. All I want is peace. To be left alone.”

The investigator studied him, his expression unreadable. “And these strange occurrences? The corruption in the forest?”

“I’m trying to stop it,” Harris said honestly. “I’ve been trying to fix the mistakes of my past. But it’s not easy. And it’s not something I can just explain away.”

The investigator was silent for a long moment, his eyes searching Harris’s face. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer. “If what you say is true, then prove it. Show me that you’re not a threat to this village.”

Harris nodded, relief washing over him. “I will. Just… give me some time.”

The investigator studied him for another moment before nodding. “Alright. But know this, Harris—I’ll be watching. And if I find out you’re lying, there will be consequences.”

Harris gave a tight smile. “Fair enough.”

With that, the investigator turned and walked away, leaving Harris standing in the clearing, the weight of his secrets pressing down on him. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. The smell of pine needles and the cool shade of the forest felt almost comforting, but he knew this wasn’t over—not by a long shot. But for now, he’d bought himself some time. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to protect the people he’d come to care about.

He turned back toward the village, his mind already racing with what he needed to do next. The corruption in the forest was growing, and the investigator wasn’t the only threat he had to worry about. But he couldn’t do it alone.

He needed allies. And he needed to make sure that when the time came, the people of Greenhollow would still believe in him.

As he walked back, he spotted Liam waiting near the edge of the village, his eyes widening in relief when he saw Harris. “How’d it go?” Liam asked, his voice filled with concern.

Harris gave him a tired smile. “It’s handled. For now.”

Liam nodded, though his eyes still held worry. “What now?”

“Now,” Harris said, his voice steady, “we get ready. The real fight is just beginning.”