Chapter 5: Lingering Shadows

The new morning soon came. Outside in the courtyard, the slashes of Solan’s blade cut through the air, his breath fogging in the air with each swing. He had trained like this countless mornings before, but this one felt different. Each swing was heavy, as though the weight of his thoughts pressed down on his arms. He fought not an enemy but the restless guilt eating away at his consciousness.

From the upper window, Lucina sat at the windowsill, still draped in her nightgown, her golden hair loose over her shoulders and shimmering in the early morning light. She gazed down at her husband, still carrying himself with the same strength and honor he had that one day when he had saved her and her family’s land from an attack when she was younger. Yet, now there was something in his movements that seemed different… his swings with more force behind them than usual, and he moved less agilely than normal.

She drew her knees close, resting her arms in her lap. Behind her, the roused twins lay awake in their cots near the bed, their little eyes shifting to the window and back to the ceiling as though trying to make sense of their new surroundings. Linae sat perched on a low stool beside them, a ribbon in hand, dangling it back and forth.

“Come on, you two,” she said, swaying it teasingly. “Try and grab it.”

Her smile widened when her brother’s hand raised upward, though it only skimmed the air. The girl’s soft whine followed, her tiny fingers curling and uncurling.

Why… Why can’t I reach it? Thought the boy, frustration bubbling behind his cry. I can think, I can feel, but my hands! I can't even speak aloud; cries are all that come out. What's happened to me? He shook his fists in frustration as tears welled up in his eyes.

The girl’s vision narrowed as she tracked the ribbon. And her… who is she? She keeps looking at us as if she knows us, but I don't remember her. Is she supposed to be family, like a sister or something? A sharp, helpless whine left her mouth, where words should have been.

The door opened.

Lilibeth cleared her throat. “Breakfast is ready, my lady,” she proclaimed warmly. Her white hair caught the morning light as she stepped inside, bowing her head slightly.

Lucina drew herself from the window and stood. “Come, Linae. Let’s go down.”

“Yes, Mother,” the girl answered quickly, hopping down from her stool.

Lucina gathered the twins into her arms, their small bodies squirming against her, and they made their way downstairs.

Lilibeth prepared the kitchen table. Fresh bread sat warm beneath a cloth, bowls of berries and sliced fruit along with jam, and a pot of tea that steamed faintly. Lucina settled the twins into their cushioned cradles near her chair.

For a moment, the room was still until wails came forth again.

That feeling again… Lea thought reluctantly, her stomach twisting. Her tiny body shook in the cradle as she continued to cry louder.

Leo joined his sister in the commotion. I don't wanna do this again, but if I don't, I’ll starve. Lucina leaned over, gathering them both as she had countless times prior. “There, there. My darlings. Leo, Lea. You needn’t cry so much, Mama is here.”

The kitchen door opened.

Solan stepped in, sighing a breath and scratching his dirty blonde hair, his cloak draped over his shoulder. He looked worn, though his stride was steady as ever. Without a word, he tore a piece of bread and chewed it quickly, before downing a cup of water.

“I’ll be riding with Alten up to the village today,” he said, setting the cup down. His tone was firm. The guards will comb through the forest again,” he turned his gaze toward Linae, rethinking his next words carefully, “to make sure the area is safe and, if needed, replenish the barrier stones.”

“The barrier stones?” Linae asked quietly, her gaze toward him.

“Yes, they’ll be seen to,” Solan replied. “We’ll replenish them with mana. No beasts will wander near the manor grounds or the roads.”

He moved closer, bending down. His lips brushed the foreheads of both babes, just long enough to relieve the tension in his face. “Rest well, my little ones. I’ll return by nightfall.” “See you tonight, be careful, Father.” Linae waved.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen, his boots striking the tiled floor. Then he was gone, and silence returned once again to the room.

The ride to Attalon Village was steady and went without hindrances; the sky was painted with scattered clouds through which the sun shone. When Solan and Alten arrived at the town square, they dismounted and left the horse and carriage in the hands of an ostler who worked near the town hall. Solan tossed the young man a silver coin and thanked him. Whispering among the townsfolk stirred as the Lord and Alten strode past toward the meeting room in that village hall.

Inside, seated at a long table were a few of the guard patrol and some of the elders who were the original settlers of Attalon. The fire at the hearth did little to ease the tension. Solan sat at the head of the table, his face stern.

“I'm sure all of you have heard the news by now, but the old hag and Crone of souls, Veldra Deadwood, is dead. Her crime of snatching our children from their homes at night to do Gods knows what to them cannot be excused, nor can the danger she has caused be ignored. The remains should be burned here in the square, as a sign that the crown and its subjects will not tolerate such evil transgressions against us.”

One of the guards, a grizzled man with scars across his cheek, slammed his fist against the table. “Yes, it’s justice, my lord. The people need to see her destroyed—body and all. Not buried. Burned.”

Murmurs of agreement swept the hall. Alten’s arms were folded, his crimson hair casting a shadow over his face. He gave a slow nod. “A pyre in the square will settle the villagers’ fears. They’ll know this decades-old threat is truly over.”

One of the elder men cleared his throat and began “During my many years of life here I've had friends who've had relatives or children go missing never to return, I myself haven't had the opportunity to come across her presence but what happened to your heirs my lord, confirms these disappearances were not due to monsters, at least most wouldn't have been."

Solan let their words settle, then gestured to the door. “Then let’s finish this. We’ll bring her remains from the forest and see it done.”

The party rode back into Endlost Forest, Alten and Solan along with three escorts, the hooves muffled by the soft ground. The woods felt much more tranquil than the other night Alten rode through it. They strode by on a dirt path until Alten stopped the carriage. He paused for a second. “It looks different in the daylight, but I'm pretty sure it was through this passage. Follow me, Sir. We'll go on foot, one of you stays with the carriage,” he pointed to the guards accompanying them.

The witch’s hut still stood there, same as that fateful night. Its door still swung half open

“Here inside,” Alten muttered, stepping closer.

The table, where the children had been bound, was bare. The blackened spell circle lay cracked across its circumference. And in the corner near the door where Veldra’s corpse had fallen… There was nothing. No body. Only a broad, dried stain of blood that had seeped deep into the wood.

A murmur rippled through the men. “She’s gone?!,” one whispered.

Solan’s hand tightened on his sword hilt. He crouched low, eyes sweeping the floor. No claw marks. No drag lines. No pawprints in the dirt outside. Nothing that spoke of beasts.

“Not taken by animals,” Alten said, his voice sharp. His jaw flexed as he ground his teeth. “Something else perhaps?”

For a long moment, no one spoke. The wind shifted, carrying with it the faintest echo of crows in the distance, but here, in this place, the air was too still. Too empty.

”It doesn't seem like any other spells were cast here, and I don't see how she could've fled if somehow she still lived.” Alten said. Solan rose to his full height, his cloak shifting in the damp breeze.“Okay, we’ll continue through Endlost to renew the barrier stones,” he said firmly, though unease twisted in his gut. “Make sure no lesser beasts wander near the roads. And Veldra, her absence… We speak of this only to the king’s court. No further panic for the villagers.”

Alten gave a curt nod, though his eyes lingered on the dark stain in the hut. “She was dead,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. “I struck her down. I saw her bleed. And yet…”

The men avoided the hut after that, setting to work at the forest’s edge. The stones whose appearance resembled more a giant gemstone were fixed to tree trunks along the path; they were about the size of a hand and were octagonal and bright blue in color. Each stone flared as the men pressed mana into them, until the glowing gems formed an unbroken line of pale light separating the depths of the woods and the road. When at last the final stone had been replenished, the men turned the carriage back toward Attalon. Their mana was spent, muscles sore, and thoughts already set on the warmth of food and drink waiting in the tavern.

Yet as hooves struck the damp earth and wheels rolled over the soft soil and the forest fell away behind them, a silence heavier than fatigue hung over the group. Not one of them gave voice to the thought gnawing at their minds, but it clung to them all the same.

Wolves had not taken the witch’s body. Nor had it been swallowed by the earth.

It had simply vanished.

And that, more than her death, was what haunted them.