He's a battle-hardened knight; she's from the modern world.
He has faced the unthinkable, while she was sheltered in comfort.
His body and soul bear scars, but she still believes in wonders.
He seeks redemption and peace, and she craves true love.
B...
"I can't believe you were talking to him alone!" Dan paced back and forth in his room. "After everything, Liz? Really?" His eyes, full of smouldering anger, scrutinised her as she sat in a chair, her guilty look following him.
"Dan, I... I didn't ask to speak with him... he approached me. He seemed... sincere." She avoided Dan's gaze, feeling diminished under its weight.
"He's manipulating you, Liz! He can feel you're weak. You see that, right?"
Her cheeks flushed as she was holding back tears. "I just want to consider all the options before making the final decision."
He stopped, leaning over her. "It is our final decision!"
Elizabeth met his gaze, her voice firmer now. "So, my opinion doesn't count?"
"You know you trust too easily." His tone grew milder, as if he was explaining something obvious to a child. "People like him see that as an opportunity. And I... I always want what's best for us."
Dan's lips curved into a slight smile, though his eyes remained cold. He touched her hair, but this seemingly tender gesture didn't release the tension in her body. Elizabeth sighed, uncertain whom to trust, and questioned whether her own feelings and perceptions were reliable. She had always seen Dan as smart and sophisticated. Naturally, he would know better, and she was just a naive girl. William had seen that vulnerability and tried to exploit it.
Yet a nagging voice inside her warned they might make a mistake by not giving William a chance. There were no simple answers, and the decision weighed heavily on her. All she could do was hope they had made the right choice by staying in the village.
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As evening fell, Mairéad locked the door and drew the curtains across all the windows, not lighting any candles—a village rule for everyone. Dusk marked the beginning of the hunt, and the villagers hurried to their homes before twilight. At such hours, Oakwood Village merged into the woods—shrouded in darkness like a black cloak.
Ciaran explained that after the war, there were few men capable of warding off the bloodfiends. Patrols were only for the major cities of Aradon, not for small villages like theirs. Thus, the locals had to fend for themselves.
Only by morning would they know if any villagers were missing. Sometimes, a bloodfiend would consume its prey right on the spot, leaving behind only remnants. Identifying the victim from these remains could be hard. But the small village meant the villagers usually could determine who it was. However, Ciaran quickly reassured his guests that no bloodfiends had yet come to Oakwood.
His reassurance offered some relief, but Elizabeth's fear resurfaced after Ciaran mentioned the lurking dangers. The ambience only added to her unease: the room's sole light came from the hearth, casting grotesque and distorted shadows around the space. Her heart sank as she surveyed the gloomy surroundings, the dim light intensifying her sense of entrapment. Even the faces around her seemed to sharpen, their features taking on a mysterious, eerie quality.
