In the hours after the banquet, the walls of Valenwood seemed to close in on Elara. The once vibrant town, bustling with traders and travelers, now felt like a maze of shadowed alleys and distant voices. She walked through the town square, the crisp night air biting at her skin. Her thoughts, though clouded by the lingering aftertaste of the night’s revelry, kept returning to the unsettling realization that her fate was entwined with those of the other travelers.

  Kieran’s words rang in her mind. "The time for answers is coming." What did that mean? Was it a warning? Or a call to arms? She could feel the pull of something greater just beyond her reach. As much as she wanted to ignore it, the truth gnawed at her like a silent predator.

  As she passed the old temple on the hill, a flicker of movement caught her eye. Her hand instinctively gripped the hilt of her sword, her body tensing as a figure emerged from the shadows. She was not alone.

  “You always seem to be in the right place at the right time, Elara.” The voice was familiar—soft, yet laced with an unmistakable edge. She didn’t have to look to know it was Kieran.

  “Elara, you are truly a mystery wrapped in shadows,” he continued, his figure emerging fully from the darkness. “But that’s what makes you dangerous. You don’t know what’s coming, do you?”

  She met his gaze, studying him carefully. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Kieran. But if it’s danger you’re speaking of, I’m no stranger to it.”

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  Kieran’s smile was almost a smirk, his eyes scanning the town below. “No, of course not. But danger alone won’t be enough. You’ll need something more. Something you don’t even know you have.”

  A long silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant sounds of the night. Then Kieran stepped closer, his voice low. “I’ve been watching, Elara. And I know what’s coming. There’s a storm on the horizon, and you’re standing in the center of it.”

  Elara’s heart raced, but she refused to let it show. She’d heard such talk before, rumors and half-truths meant to stir up fear. But something about Kieran’s words felt different this time.

  “What’s coming?” she asked, her voice steady but with a hint of curiosity.

  He paused, looking out over the darkened streets below. “Something old. Something forgotten. And it’s waking up.”

  A shiver ran down Elara’s spine. There was no mistaking the weight of his words. It wasn’t just talk this time. Something was indeed stirring, something dark and ancient, waiting to emerge.

  “And what do you want from me?” Elara’s tone was sharp, but not hostile. She’d learned to be wary of people like Kieran—charming, mysterious, and always with a hidden agenda.

  Kieran’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, she saw something flicker behind them. A flicker of regret? Or was it something darker? She couldn’t tell.

  “You’ll find out soon enough. The question is,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers, “are you ready for what’s coming?”

  Before Elara could respond, Kieran melted back into the shadows, his presence lingering like smoke in the air. She stood there, staring at the empty space where he had been, trying to shake the feeling that his words had more weight than she was willing to admit.

  With a sigh, Elara turned back toward the inn.