The night settled over Hallowglen, heavy and suffocating. The fires burned steadily at the gates and along the walls, their light flickering against the growing tension that gripped the village. Inside the sealed Briarhouse, the infected and husks stirred, their groaning and thrashing echoing through the night air. The unsettling sounds filled the guards outside with unease, their hands gripping their weapons tightly as they exchanged anxious glances.

  One of the guards, unable to bear the growing restlessness, sent word to the elders and Kalenor.

  Kalenor sat in his room at the inn, the faint glow of the village fires filtering through the window. His mind was a storm of thoughts, circling back again and again to the figure he had seen earlier that day—the woman cloaked in ocean blue. The image of her singular horn, twisting like a branch, haunted him. Who was she? Why would a noble of Thalassai venture this far inland? And why was she tied to the corruption?

  A knock at his door shattered his thoughts. Rising quickly, Kalenor reached for his cloak and sword, pulling them on as he opened the door. A young messenger stood there, his face pale with urgency.

  “Scalesworn, the elders sent me. There’s trouble at the Briarhouse.”

  Without another word, Kalenor nodded and stepped out into the cool night air, his sword resting heavily on his back. As he approached the Briarhouse, the scene before him brought him to a halt. All four elders stood outside, each holding a torch, their faces shadowed but clearly tense. Their agitation was palpable, and the flickering light of their torches reflected in their wary eyes.

  Kalenor quickened his pace, his boots crunching against the dirt as he approached the group. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice calm but firm.

  One of the elders, a wiry man with a furrowed brow, turned to him, his expression grim. “We’ve been discussing whether to burn the Briarhouse.”

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  Kalenor’s amber eyes narrowed. “Burn it?” he repeated, his tone sharp. “The building is sealed, and we’ve kept it guarded at all times. What reason do you have for such an extreme measure?”

  Another elder, a stout woman with a steely gaze, stepped forward. “The sound from within… it hasn’t stopped since the moon rose. Groaning, thrashing—those things inside are restless, and we fear they’ll break free. If that happens, the entire village is at risk.”

  Kalenor took a step closer, his tone softening but remaining resolute. “I understand your fear, but burning the Briarhouse is not the answer. The infected are contained, and we have guards stationed here to ensure that. We cannot act out of panic.”

  Two of the elders, visibly worn from the stress, exchanged glances and nodded reluctantly. “Perhaps you’re right,” one of them said. “We’ll return to our homes and leave this in your hands.”

  The other two elders, however, remained firmly rooted in place. The wiry elder shook his head. “No. We need to see if this building can hold. We cannot blindly trust that it will.”

  Kalenor sighed, suppressing his frustration. “Give me a chance to investigate. If I find anything concerning, we’ll address it together. But for now, burning the Briarhouse will only spread more fear.”

  The two remaining elders hesitated but eventually nodded. “Very well, but we’re staying here. We need to know.”

  As they approached the Briarhouse, the sounds from within suddenly ceased. The eerie silence was like a tangible weight, pressing down on the group. Kalenor froze, his eyes narrowing as he studied the building. “When did they stop?” he asked, his voice low.

  One of the guards stepped forward, his expression uneasy. “They’ve been making noise all night, Scalesworn. Since the moon rose.”

  Kalenor frowned. “And this silence—how long has it lasted?”

  The other guard answered, his voice trembling slightly. “Just now, as you arrived.”

  A cold prickle ran down Kalenor’s spine. The timing was too precise to be a coincidence. Something had changed. He turned to the elders. “I need to see what’s happening inside. But I’ll need your permission to unseal the building.”

  The wiry elder hesitated, his torch casting long shadows over his lined face. “You may, but only under one condition: we bring a small militia here to defend against whatever might come out.”

  Kalenor nodded in agreement. “A reasonable precaution.” He turned to one of the guards. “Round up two of the patrols. Bring them here as quickly as you can.”

  The guard saluted and took off into the night, leaving the remaining group to wait in tense silence. Kalenor’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword as his thoughts churned. The infected had been restless all night, but now, with no warning, they were silent. It wasn’t a good sign.

  As the minutes ticked by and the faint sound of approaching footsteps signaled the arrival of the reinforcements, Kalenor glanced at the elders. “We’ll proceed carefully,” he said. “If there’s anything unusual inside, we’ll deal with it swiftly. But burning the Briarhouse now will only hurt our chances of containing this plague.”

  The elders nodded, their unease evident. Kalenor turned back to the sealed doors of the Briarhouse, the oppressive silence pressing against him like a physical force. Whatever was waiting inside, he would face it. For the sake of Hallowglen, he had no choice.