The Siege of Shadows: Book one

Danger on the Horizon (7)

The townsfolk had gathered in the square by the time we arrived, their faces pale and anxious. In the center stood a man I hadn't seen before, tall and imposing with a silver-threaded cloak and piercing eyes that seemed to see through the crowd. He held up a tattered banner, its edges burned and stained with something dark.

"This was found at the edge of the woods this morning," he announced, his voice carrying easily over the murmurs of the crowd. "Another caravan attacked. All gone. Not a body left to bury."

Gasps rippled through the crowd, and a woman clutched her child tightly.

"Bloodfangs?" someone asked, their voice trembling.

The man shook his head. "No. This wasn't the work of wolves. This was something else. Something worse."

My stomach churned as the villagers began to murmur in hushed, fearful tones. Eddric leaned in close, his voice low. "You'd best stay sharp, wolf-slayer. Looks like your bad luck isn't done with us yet."

I clenched the hilt of my new blade, a chill running down my spine. Whatever was out there, it wasn't just wolves.

...........................
The sword felt heavy in my hands, unfamiliar and awkward. The polished steel gleamed in the light streaming through my  window in the Inn, its edge sharp enough to split a hair. It was a fine weapon—far finer than I deserved, if I were honest. The blacksmith had insisted it was a gift, a token of gratitude for the pelt of the monstrous wolf I'd slain.

But staring at it now, I couldn't help but feel out of place.

What good was a sword if I didn't know how to use it?

I ran my fingers over the leather-wrapped hilt, trying to imagine myself wielding it against another wolf, or something worse. My hands still trembled when I thought of that fight—the blood, the snarling, the raw terror. I'd survived, but not because I knew what I was doing. It was luck, desperation, and the blunt edge of a shovel that had saved me. Next time, I might not be so fortunate.

No, I needed to learn how to fight. Properly.

The thought sent a chill down my spine. Winlow was not the kind of place where people casually learned swordsmanship, but there was one group who could teach me: the Night Guard. They were the only ones who ventured into the forest after dark, the only ones who had any experience with the dangers lurking beyond the safety of the village.

And I knew just the person to ask for help.

Eddric.

The thought of him brought a flicker of warmth to my otherwise frayed nerves. Eddric was... well, Eddric. Friendly, charming, and more than a little flirtatious. He was the kind of person who made you feel like you belonged, even if you were as out of place as I felt most days.

But there was a complication.

Bram.

Eddric's twin was as grim and unfriendly as Eddric was warm and inviting. He had made it clear from the start that he didn't trust me, and every time I crossed his path, he greeted me with a glare that could freeze the sun. I didn't know what I'd done to earn his disdain, but I doubted he'd be thrilled at the idea of his brother teaching me how to swing a sword.

Still, I didn't have much of a choice. If I wanted to learn, Eddric was my best option.

I slung the sword across my back, the weight of it unfamiliar but strangely reassuring. It felt like a promise to myself—a commitment to no longer rely on luck and desperation. I was going to be ready next time. For whatever came.

The training yard behind the guardhouse was quiet when I arrived, the faint clang of steel against steel echoing from within the armory. I hesitated at the gate, my heart pounding harder than it should have. What if Eddric said no? What if Bram was here and decided to chase me off before I even had the chance to ask?