the dawn of darkness | t riddle [incomplete]

Chapter 39: The Beast Within the Forest

Chapter 39: The Beast Within the Forest

a/n: this chapter is the latest update but i have decided that it fits better between chapter 38 and 40 - so i hope that makes sense to you all! and, as always, i hope you enjoy the chapter!

Her long, plum dress dragged along the narrow streets, the fog that hung thick in the air practically clutching at her ankles like a beast as the moaning wind whirred through the thick forest that encompasses the town like an impenetrable barrier. Each house that she passed stood lonely and cold, almost every building composed of grey slate and stone that had darkened with the dampness of the foggy air.

As she passed through the centre of the village, she noticed the way the people threw her uneasy glances and the way that mothers would haul their children up into their arms as soon as they saw her. Even the burly men drew away as she passed, swooping into little shops and crevices to avoid her path. Groups of villagers fell silent as they laid eyes on her - their previously lively conversations falling thin in mid-air.

Though they were whispering, the seer could still hear the peoples' snide remarks as she passed by.

"Who's that?"

"An outsider. Never seen her before."

"Looks like some kinda sorcerer."

"Don't say that!"

"She does! Might be connected to that creature in the forest."

"Hush! This instance! We do not speak of-of that... creature"

"Well, she shouldn't be here."

"I'm sure she will soon learn that people like her are unwelcome in New Inn."

She ignored them all, blaming their remarks and jittered looks on some silly old fables and tales that often came along with these sort of recluse little muggle towns and villages. Though, judging by the density of the thick, wildly growing forest that outlined the village, she wouldn't be surprised if a few mighty valcores and other magical beasts actually were residing in that forest. That would certainly explain these peoples' fear of anything that seemed new or out of place.

Yet, as she walked, and despite the seer's confidence and magic at her back, a strange sense of isolation crept up onto her shoulders. This was a far-flung part of the world, she could tell. And by the way everyone was looking at her - she could tell that this muggle village didn't get many visitors. Certainly not the magical type.

"You shouldn't be here!" one man called out to her from the small town square, his voice echoing across the now quiet roads.

She turned, stopping in her tracks to look at him. Everyone was glancing from her to a man of average height with the complexion of a pallid candle, both of his hands clutching onto his wool coat with such severity his knuckles were turning white.

"I'm looking for a Mr Brereton," she called back to the man. And he visibly stiffened at her words, his face draining of any colour it may have previously held. And instead of answering her or giving her directions, the man turned at once; his pace quick, his head hanging low as he crossed the square and disappeared through one of the openings in the stone wall.

The seer watched as about a dozen other people slipped away at her words too; and she glanced upwards to see men and women closing the windows of their houses with a snap all around her, followed by the echoing chorus of locks clicking into place.

A single man remained, standing a few feet away from a little Post Office at the corner of the square, envelopes in hand. He wore a coat that seemed to be three sizes too big for him - his lengthy sleeves completely obscuring his hands from vision; the material hanging loose on his body like a child who would try on his fathers' overcoat for fun.