The air was thick with a tense stillness as Jack approached Eamon’s study. He felt a gnawing sense of dread, the kind that had been growing in him for days now. It had been weeks since the disturbances in Eldergrove had begun, and every attempt to make sense of it had led him to dead ends. But Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that he was missing a piece of a puzzle he wasn’t even sure existed.

The village seemed quieter than usual. Villagers went about their daily routines, but there was a tension in their movements, a tightness in their smiles. Jack had seen it, and so had Eamon. As he stepped into the study, he found the sage hunched over a table, a cluster of scrolls and papers spread out before him.

Eamon looked up as Jack entered, His face betraying a look of concern from the usual calmness. “You’re here. Good. I’ve been going through the records, trying to make sense of what’s happening.”

Jack pulled up a chair and sat down. “And?”

Eamon sighed, leaning back slightly. “I wish I had answers, Jack. But the more I read, the more questions I have. This... whatever is happening... it’s unlike anything we’ve seen before. The disturbances, the strange behavior, the unrest spreading to the neighboring villages... it all points to something. But I can’t find a single pattern that makes sense.”

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Then maybe we’ve been looking at it wrong. Maybe it’s not about finding patterns.”

Eamon raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking... what if this isn’t just about the physical things we’re seeing? What if it’s about how people are feeling, how they’re acting?” Jack’s voice was steady, but there was an edge of frustration. “You’ve seen it too, haven’t you? The way people have been behaving lately... it’s like they’re on edge, like they’re... afraid, but they don’t know why.”

Eamon’s eyes darkened, and he nodded slowly. “I have noticed. But fear is not something that can be measured or tracked. It’s insidious, it spreads without reason, without logic.”

“Exactly, And that’s what makes it dangerous. What if whatever is causing this... this unease... is doing it on purpose? What if it’s feeding off the fear, making it worse?”

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint rustling of the wind outside. Eamon’s fingers drummed on the table, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It’s possible... but if that’s true, then we’re dealing with something more than just a passing threat. This could be—”

“A Scourge,” Jack finished, his voice barely a whisper.

Eamon’s gaze snapped to Jack, and for a moment, the two men just stared at each other. “That’s a dangerous assumption, Jack.”

“I know. But it’s the only thing that makes sense. Think about it. The stories of the past Scourges... they all brought chaos, destruction, fear. They were grand, they were obvious. But what if this one... what if it’s different? What if it’s not about making a grand entrance, but about slipping in unnoticed?”

Eamon’s eyes narrowed, and Jack could see the gears turning in the sage’s mind. “If that’s true, then we’ve been blind this whole time,” Eamon said, his voice low. “And we’re not just dealing with chaos... we’re dealing with deception.”

Jack nodded. “Exactly. And that’s why we haven’t been able to stop it, why we haven’t been able to make sense of it. Because it’s been hiding, working behind the scenes, spreading fear and unrest without revealing itself.”

Eamon pushed himself back from the table, his hands running through his graying hair. “But if it’s a Scourge... how could we have missed it? How could everyone have missed it?”

“I don’t know. But I think it’s time we stop trying to find the Scourge and start looking at what it’s doing.”

For a long moment, Eamon said nothing. Then he stood up, crossing the room to the window. “If you’re right, Jack... then we’re in more trouble than I thought. Because that means this Scourge, if it is a Scourge, is playing a game we don’t even know the rules of. And we’re already losing.”

“So what do we do?”

Eamon turned to face him, his expression grim. “We keep our eyes open. We watch, we listen. We don’t assume anything, and we don’t trust what we see on the surface. If this is a Scourge, then it’s only a matter of time before it reveals itself. And when it does, we need to be ready.”

---

Jack left Eamon’s study feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. For the first time, he felt like they were on the right track, like they had finally begun to understand what was happening. But that understanding brought with it a new kind of fear, one that chewed up at his gut and made it hard to breathe.

He wandered through the village, his mind racing, replaying the conversation over and over. If Eamon was right, then they were dealing with something far more dangerous than they had imagined. And they were nowhere near prepared.

As he passed the village square, he spotted a familiar figure leaning against a wall, a grin on his face. Jones, his old friend, was chatting animatedly with a couple of villagers, his hands moving as he told a story that had them laughing. For a moment, Jack felt a pang of jealousy. How could Jones be so carefree, so lighthearted, when everything felt like it was falling apart?

“Jack! Over here!” Jones called out, waving him over. Jack hesitated, then made his way over to his friend.

“What’s got you so cheerful?” Jack asked, trying to keep his tone light.

“Oh, you know, the usual. Trying to keep spirits up,” Jones said, clapping Jack on the shoulder. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost again. What’s got you all worked up this time?”

Jack hesitated, then shrugged. “Just... thinking. Things have been strange lately.”

“Tell me about it,” Jones said, rolling his eyes. “Everyone’s been acting like they’ve got a stick up their—well, you know. I’ve been trying to distract them, keep them laughing. It’s not much, but it’s better than brooding.”

Jack managed a small smile. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to lighten up.”

 “Lighten up? Jack, you’re the most serious guy I know. If you start lightening up, I’ll have to start worrying.”

Jack laughed, a sound that felt foreign in his throat. “Maybe I should be more like you.”

“Nah, the world needs serious people like you,” Jones said, his tone suddenly more serious. “People who actually care about what’s going on, who try to make sense of things. Me, I just try to make people laugh. It’s easier that way.”

Jack’s smile faded. “But what if there’s nothing to laugh about?”

Jones was silent for a moment, then he shrugged. “Then you find something. Or you make something. Because if you don’t, then what’s the point?”

Jack stared at his friend, feeling a strange mix of admiration and pity. Jones made it all sound so simple, but Jack knew it wasn’t. Nothing was simple anymore.

Later that evening, Jack sat alone by the river, watching the water flow by. The village was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, like it was waiting for something. He thought about what Eamon had said, about fear and deception, about the possibility that a Scourge was already among them, hiding in plain sight.

He thought about the villagers, about the strange behaviors he had seen, the unrest that was spreading. And he thought about Jones, and the way he had tried to make light of it all, as if laughter could chase away the shadows.

But Jack knew better. Whatever was happening, it was more than just fear. It was something darker, something that was creeping in, taking hold of people’s minds and twisting them. And if he and Eamon were right, then it was only going to get worse.

As the last light of the sun faded from the sky, Jack made a silent vow. Whatever this was, whatever was causing this fear, he would find it. And he would stop it. Even if it was the last thing he did.

Lost in thought, he barely noticed the sound of footsteps approaching until a voice cut through the stillness.

“You look like you’re about to jump in,” said a calm, quiet voice.

Jack turned to see a woman standing a few feet away, her silhouette framed by the faint glow of twilight. She was strong, built with a balance of agility and power, her presence commanding without being imposing. Long, dark hair cascaded down her back, swaying gently in the evening breeze. She wore a fitted white coat reinforced with silver pauldrons on her shoulders, the edges slightly weathered from travel. A leather belt cinched the coat at her waist, from which hung a sheathed dagger and small pouches. Beneath, dark trousers were tucked into sturdy, silver-plated boots that bore the marks of wear. Laced tightly and reinforced at the toes, barely made a sound against the earth. The flowing tails of her coat, tattered at the edges, stirred lightly in the wind.

She wasn’t from Eldergrove; Jack was sure of that. He would’ve remembered seeing someone like her.

“Not planning on it,” he replied, his curiosity piqued. “Just... thinking.”

She stepped closer, her movements smooth and deliberate, like a hunter approaching her prey. The fading light cast soft shadows on her face, making it difficult to read her expression. Jack, taller by a fair measure, had to angle his gaze slightly downward to meet her sharp, discerning eyes. But despite the difference in height, there was no sense of diminishment in her stance—if anything, she seemed entirely unaffected by it.

 “Must be some heavy thoughts to drag you all the way out here.”

Jack studied her for a moment. There was something about her presence, something calm yet sharp, like a blade sheathed in leather. “And you? You don’t look like you’re out for a stroll.”

A faint smile touched her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m passing through. Heard there were some troubles around these parts. Figured I’d see for myself.” She tilted her head slightly, studying him in return. “You don’t look like the type to run from trouble.”

“I’m not,” Jack said, his voice steady. “I face it.”

“Good, There’s a lot of trouble to face these days.”

Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Jack found himself intrigued by this stranger, by the way she spoke with such quiet confidence. “Name’s Jack,” he offered, breaking the silence

“Page. If you’re looking to face trouble, I might just stick around. Could use someone who doesn’t scare easy.”

Jack chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “You have no idea what kind of trouble you’re getting into.”

“I guess I’ll find out. I’ve dealt with trouble before, and I’m still standing.”

Jack didn’t know why, but he believed her. There was a strength in her, something solid and unyielding. “Then maybe we could use someone like you,” he said, more to himself than to her.

Page nodded, as if the matter was already settled. “Then it’s a good thing I found you, isn’t it?”

As she turned to leave, Jack watched her go, a strange feeling settling in his chest. He didn’t know what it was, but he had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths. And maybe, just maybe, she was exactly what he needed to face the darkness creeping into their world.