The guild woke before sunrise. Boots scraped on the wooden floor and the air carried warm grain scent mixed with soft herbal notes. I rubbed my eyes and stepped into the hall where Lira waited with her usual sharp alertness. She handed me a thin roll of parchment. Maren wants your nose in the storage room she said. Something is wrong with last nights herb deliveries.

I followed her through a narrow hall into a dim storage chamber. Shelves lined the walls filled with dried leaves berries roots and strange glowing buds. The air should have smelled like soft earth and gentle spice. Instead it felt twisted. A sour top note hovered above everything. It tingled in my nose like faint vinegar. Lira frowned. I smell nothing she said. But her instincts told her enough to trust my reaction.

I stepped deeper into the room. The scent grew heavier. Too heavy. My tongue buzzed. Something was hiding beneath the sour tone. A faint burnt sweetness. A metallic echo. The room was wrong. I crouched beside a crate of dried petals. They looked normal but the aroma was off. The petals carried two tones that should never exist together. A healing note twisted with faint decay. Someone tampered with them or the forest mutated faster than expected.

Maren arrived with several guild workers. She asked me to pinpoint the problem. I inhaled again. The sour top note was a distraction. The real danger lay in the metallic echo deep inside the scent. It meant the herbs absorbed unstable mana during harvest. I opened another crate. Inside were small purple berries. They had bright fruity scent but under it a cold bitterness hid. The bitterness curled on my tongue like frost. These berries could freeze blood if consumed.

I explained this quietly. The workers backed away fast. Maren narrowed her eyes. She asked if the contamination was natural. I shook my head. Natural shifts carried smoother transitions in scent. This abrupt mix of tones meant forced mutation. Someone or something pushed mana into the plants at the wrong angle. It was like over roasting beans until the sugars burned while the inside stayed raw. A mismatch of signals. A warning.

Maren ordered the room cleared. Lira helped me move crates outside one by one. As we carried them the wind changed direction and a new scent hit me. Sharp. Clean. Like broken quartz. I stopped. Lira asked what was wrong. I pointed toward the northern road. Something there gave off the same crystal tone as the plants at the quarry. Not as strong but similar. A thread leading to trouble.

We walked outside the guild gate. The northern road stretched toward small merchant huts. The scent grew clearer with each step. A cold soft sweetness. A hollow aftertaste. Someone here carried corrupted goods. We reached a stall run by an elderly merchant with gentle eyes. He smiled and greeted us. His table held bundles of herbs wrapped in leaves. At first glance they looked fresh. But the crystal scent pulsed from them. I knew immediately they came from near the quarry.

I picked up one bundle and sniffed lightly. The sweet tone hid a cold vibration. The herbs were stable for now but would turn volatile by nightfall. I asked the merchant where he harvested them. He said he bought them from a traveling gatherer at dawn. A stranger with a hood who moved quickly and spoke little. The merchant had no reason to doubt the goods. But they were dangerous. I explained this gently. He looked shaken.

Lira traced footprints leading north. Light tracks. Fast steps. Whoever sold these herbs knew what they carried. Or did not care. Maren arrived after hearing our report. She ordered scouts to search the area. She turned to me. Can you follow the scent. I inhaled again. The trail was faint but present. A thin ribbon of cold sweetness drifted along the road. I nodded. I could follow it.

The scent led us through the market then into a small alley behind a row of houses. The air grew colder even though the sun rose higher. At the far end of the alley a wooden door hung open. Inside the room was empty. Dust on the floor. A smell of old cloth. But near the window a strange scent lingered. Crystal tone mixed with burnt metal. The same combination from the quarry creature. Whoever stayed here carried corrupted supplies and left in a hurry.

On the table lay a small fragment of glasslike bark. I picked it up and inhaled. The scent vibrated faintly. This was not natural forest bark. It came from a tree warped by mana. A rare tree that grew only in deep unstable zones. If the gatherer collected herbs near such trees then the corruption level was rising far beyond the ridge. Someone was pushing into dangerous territory.

Lira leaned against the wall thinking. She wondered aloud if the gatherer was part of a group who experimented on plants. Maren wrote notes quickly. She said the capital once banned such experiments. Too unpredictable. Too dangerous. But someone might be reviving them.

We left the empty room and returned to the guild where workers already burned the contaminated herbs to avoid accidental use. The smoke smelled sharp but safe. Maren gathered us around the central table. She said the guild needed to prepare for larger shifts in the forest. I felt my stomach tighten. My tongue tingled as if agreeing.

Lira asked if I was alright. I nodded but took a deep breath. The scents from today circled my mind. Sour top notes hiding deeper corruption. Crystal tones leaking where they should not be. Someone was stirring the forest. And my senses were picking up every tremor.

As night approached I stood outside watching torches flicker along the road. The air carried the usual mix of grass and warm smoke. But beneath it a faint cold sweetness still lingered. A reminder that something out there waited. And my tongue would have to find it.