𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘵

05 | 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞

• ──────── ꗃ ──────── •

Morning arrived with a veil of fog that shrouded the village in an eerie stillness. The air was damp and heavy, muting even the sound of footsteps as the small family prepared to set out. 

Geralt fastened his swords to his back, his expression calm but focused, while Roseanne double-checked her wand holster, her nerves on edge.

"Stick to the plan," Geralt said, his voice low but firm. "I'll scout the woods and meet you back here by sundown. Be careful who you talk to—some of these people won't take kindly to questions."

Roseanne nodded, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. "We'll be fine." She glanced at Ciri, who was adjusting her belt, a determined look on her face. "Won't we?"

Ciri grinned. "Of course. I'll keep us out of trouble."

Geralt gave a curt nod before slipping out the door, disappearing into the fog like a ghost. Roseanne turned to Teddy, who was tugging at her hand, his wide eyes full of questions.

"Where are we going, Mama?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

"To talk to the villagers," Roseanne said, kneeling to meet his gaze. "But you have to stay close to me, alright? No wandering off."

"I won't," Teddy promised, clutching her hand tightly.

They stepped out into the village, the cobbled streets slick with dew. The villagers were already at work, tending to livestock or hauling goods from carts, but their eyes still lingered on Roseanne and Ciri as they passed.

Ciri led the way, her steps confident despite the uneasy glances thrown their way. She approached a woman hanging laundry on a line, offering a polite smile.

"Excuse me," Ciri said, her tone friendly but firm. "We're new here and heard there's been trouble lately. Monsters? Disappearances?"

The woman froze, her hands gripping a damp sheet. Her eyes darted to Roseanne and Teddy before she quickly shook her head. "I don't know anything about that," she said, her voice trembling. "Best you don't ask questions."

"But—"

Before Ciri could press further, the woman gathered her laundry and hurried inside, slamming the door behind her. Ciri sighed, crossing her arms. "Well, that went well."

"They're scared," Roseanne said, her eyes scanning the street. "Something's happening here, and they don't want to be involved."

Ciri frowned but nodded. "Let's try someone else."

They moved on, speaking to a baker, a blacksmith, and a group of children playing in the square, but the answers were always the same—fearful denial or hurried silence.

It wasn't until they reached the edge of the village, where the houses thinned and gave way to a field of tall grass, that they found someone willing to talk.

An old man sat on a wooden stool outside his home, whittling a piece of wood. His eyes were cloudy with age, but he watched them approach with a calm curiosity.

"You're not from here," he said, his voice raspy but steady.

"No," Roseanne admitted, stopping a few paces away. "But we've heard about the troubles in this village. We want to help."

The old man chuckled, setting down his carving. "Help, is it? Strange company you keep for helpers. A witcher and a sorceress. And that boy—" He gestured to Teddy, who hid behind Roseanne's cloak. "—doesn't belong in a place like this."

Roseanne's heart tightened, but she kept her voice steady. "What do you mean?"

"This land," the man said, his gaze turning to the distant woods. "It's cursed. Always has been. People vanish. Shadows move where they shouldn't. And lately..." He trailed off, his expression darkening.

"Lately?" Ciri prompted, stepping closer.

"Lately, there's been singing," the man said, his voice barely above a whisper. "At night. A voice as sweet as honey, calling from the woods. Those who hear it don't come back."

Roseanne exchanged a glance with Ciri, a chill running down her spine. "Do you know what's causing it?"

The old man shook his head. "No one does. But it's not of this world. You'd do well to leave before it finds you, too."

As they turned to leave, Teddy tugged on Roseanne's sleeve, his face pale. "Mama," he whispered, "I heard singing last night."

Roseanne froze, her heart pounding. "What did you hear, Teddy?"

"It was soft," Teddy said, his voice trembling. "Like a lullaby. It made me sleepy."

Roseanne knelt in front of him, gripping his shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to scare you," Teddy said, tears welling in his eyes.

Roseanne pulled him into a hug, her mind racing. Whatever was happening in this village, it was already closer than she had thought.

"Come on," she said, standing and taking Teddy's hand. "We need to find Geralt."

As they hurried back toward the inn, the fog seemed thicker, the air heavier. Roseanne's grip on her wand tightened as her thoughts spiraled.

Whatever was out there, it wasn't just hunting the villagers. It was hunting them.

• ──────── ꗃ ──────── •