Dusk Glow

Chapter VII: Letters of the Lost

Darla barely sleeps that night, tossing and turning as the moonlight filters through her curtains. She clutches her diary, the hidden letter inside pressing against her like a secret weight. When morning finally comes, she springs out of bed, determination shining in her eyes.

Okay, Darla, time to put your Jimmy Sprocket hat on. You're getting into some adventurous waters. Edwynn's got his secrets, Jaku's got his secrets, and apparently, so does Dad. But you're not going to stay in the dark forever. Time to do some serious snooping.

She flips through her diary one more time, rereading the mysterious letter, then tucks it into her bag, determined to dig deeper into the secrets of the Fangs and Claws.

As she pulls on her coat, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror—bedraggled hair, puffy eyes from lack of sleep, but a spark of determination in her expression.

You've got this. You're basically an explorer now. And if anyone asks, you're just doing 'research' for a school project or something.

She heads downstairs, finding her dad already gone for the day, his coffee mug sitting in the sink. Darla grabs an apple for breakfast, shoving it into her bag before hurrying out the door.

As she steps into the chilly morning air, she glances at the path leading to Cedar Centre but shakes her head.

Nope, not today. Today, I need to do some research. And that means heading straight to the source—the Dowry Platz Library.

She climbs into her old red truck and drives through the winding streets of Spoons, the small town slowly waking up around her.

The library is quiet when she arrives, its brick exterior looking worn but welcoming.
She pushes open the heavy wooden doors, and the familiar scent of old books and dust greets her like an old friend.

The librarian, Mrs. Rittan, gives her a curious look over the top of her glasses as Darla walks in. "Back again, Darla? Shouldn't you be out enjoying the sunshine?"

Darla manages a sheepish smile.
"Oh, you know, I'm just really into history lately. Especially... um, local folklore and stuff."

Mrs. Rittan raises an eyebrow but doesn't pry further. "Well, you know where everything is. Just don't go getting any ideas about wandering into the restricted section, young lady."

Darla gives a quick nod and makes a beeline for the back of the library, where the old history and folklore books are kept. She pulls out a stack of dusty tomes, flipping through pages filled with faded illustrations of creatures and myths. Most of it is familiar—the actual tales of the kid friendly bedtime stories her father used to tell her, tales of ancient wars between wulfens and fangstons, the runaway bride who sparked the feud.

But she finds one book that's different, hidden behind a row of others. Its cover is worn, the title barely legible:

"Legends of the Veilwood."

Darla's heart skips a beat. She pulls the book into her lap, dusting off the cover before opening it.

The pages inside are handwritten, filled with careful notes and sketches. Diagrams of wulfen packs, symbols she doesn't recognize, and mentions of ancient oaths. But one page catches her eye—a faded sketch of a young woman standing between two figures, one with the sharp, elegant features of a fangston, the other with the broad, powerful form of a wulfen.

Beneath the sketch is a caption written in slanted handwriting:

"Between the Fang and Claw, she stands alone,
To shape the rift, to carve the stone.
Her choice a whisper, her will a flame,
To tip the scales and call fate's name."