The village of Oakhaven nestled at the edge of the Whispering Woods like a child clinging to its mother's skirts. The wind that swept through the towering trees carried the scent of the forest, mingling with the faint smoke rising from the chimneys of old wooden cottages lining the packed-earth road. It was a place where time seemed to move slower than in the bustling capital. Yet beneath that tranquil façade, I could sense an undercurrent of tension—wariness in the eyes of villagers who cast furtive glances at me, the unfamiliar woman in travel-worn clothes, neither a wandering merchant nor a devout pilgrim.
I had come here with dwindling hope. My attempts to gather information from the authorities in the capital had ended in failure—and veiled threats that sent chills down my spine. Scraps of paper I had salvaged and strange carvings on trees within the forest told me that something was deeply wrong. But I needed more than instinct. I needed stories. I needed connections. And this village, the closest settlement to the former Stonehand estate, was my next step.
I stopped at the village's lone tavern, The Broken Oak. The atmosphere inside was subdued—only a few old men nursing their ale in the corner, while a stout woman behind the counter methodically polished glasses with a blank expression. I ordered a simple meal of vegetable soup and bread, attempting to strike up conversation about the weather and the harvest. My efforts were met with short responses and assessing stares. They weren't used to outsiders—especially not in times when rumors of the "development project" had begun to spread and distrust of the capital's power ran deep.
"I'm an independent scholar," I eventually introduced myself, deciding honesty might open more doors than deception. "I'm researching the history and flora of the Whispering Woods. I heard that the Stonehand family once watched over this land, and I'd like to learn more about their story."
The tavernkeeper stilled her hand against the glass she was wiping, eyes narrowing slightly.
"The Stonehands, you say..." she muttered. "They're gone now. Only Kaelen, that hot-blooded boy, is left. And he's been wandering who-knows-where since losing his land." There was a touch of sympathy in her voice, but also distance—as if she were speaking of something lost long ago.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I replied sincerely. "I'm especially interested in their connection to the Whispering Woods. I've heard they had some... role in protecting it?"
An old man in the corner coughed, his voice raspy as he spoke. "A role, you say... The old folks called it a 'covenant,' lass. Not a duty imposed by law, but something older than that."
I turned to him, my curiosity sharpening. "A covenant? Could you tell me more?"
The elder hesitated, glancing toward the tavernkeeper as if seeking permission. She merely shrugged, leaving the choice to him. He looked back at me, his expression unreadable.
"It's an old tale, passed down through generations," he began, his voice low. "The first Stonehand made a pact with the spirit of the forest itself. They were to guard the borders, ensure no one disturbed the heart of the woods without cause, and prevent reckless logging or destruction. In return, the forest granted them bountiful lands and protected the village from certain... natural calamities."
"The spirit of the forest?" I echoed, a shiver running down my spine. I had read legends of such things, but hearing them spoken aloud by those who had lived beside the woods was something entirely different. "And... is the covenant still in effect?"
"Who's to say?" another elder interjected with a shrug. "It was a bond of belief, passed down through blood. But I'll tell you this— the Stonehands respected the forest. Never took more than they needed. Unlike..." He trailed off, swallowing his words, as if realizing too late that he had said too much.
"Unlike whom?" I pressed gently.
"Unlike the city folk these days, who see the forest as nothing more than timber and stone," the first elder muttered, staring into his ale. "Ever since Lord and Lady Stonehand... Kaelen's parents... passed away, things have only gotten worse."
My heart pounded. This was what I needed to know. "Their passing... I heard it was an accident, was it not?"
A heavy silence settled over the tavern. Only the wind's mournful whistle outside filled the space.
"The authorities called it an accident," the tavernkeeper said at last, sighing. "A carriage mishap—tumbling off the cliffs on their way back from the capital. But..." She hesitated, biting her lip.
"But what?" I coaxed, keeping my voice steady.
"But it was... strange," the elder murmured, lowering his voice to a whisper. "That night, the storm wasn't that fierce. Lord Stonehand knew that road like the back of his hand, and his driver was an old hand at the route. And yet... there were reports of strange lights on the cliffs that night. Then morning came, and the authorities rushed to declare it an accident. Closed the case faster than they should have, like they didn't want anyone asking too many questions."
"And not long after," the other elder added, "strangers from the capital started showing up. Talking about development. Government interest in the Stonehand land. It was all too... convenient."
I sat still, absorbing their words, my mind a whirlwind of realization. The covenant. The suspicious deaths of Kaelen's parents. The government's vested interest in that land. This wasn't just about resources—timber or minerals. It was something deeper. Something tied to the spirit of the forest. Something that the Stonehand family had once safeguarded. And something that Valerius Thorn wanted to control—or destroy.
"Thank you," I finally said, keeping the turmoil in my heart from showing. "Your stories are more valuable than you know."
I paid for my meal and stepped out into the afternoon light, which now seemed dimmer, as if the weight of history itself had cast a shadow over the village. The whispers I had heard today did not come from the rustling leaves or the murmuring wind. They came from memories—memories of a past that someone wanted buried.
This fight was more complex, more dangerous than I had imagined. Thorn's ambitions weren't merely about wealth or industry. They were entangled with the very essence of the Whispering Woods. And eliminating the Stonehands may have been his first necessary step.
I clenched my fists, the weight of responsibility pressing down on me.
I had to warn Kaelen Stonehand, even if he did not yet trust me. And I had to uncover undeniable proof—something that could expose this sinister truth before the whispers of the wilds... and the voices of those who remembered... were silenced forever.