The next morning, Hearthvale moved as it always did. Farmers took their tools. Traders packed their carts. Children ran between houses.
To everyone else, it was an ordinary day.
Aren felt something different.
He walked to the well to fetch water. As he leaned over the stone rim, he paused. A faint trembling ran through the Dao threads beneath the ground—subtle, but real.
He narrowed his eyes.
Something had disturbed the balance.
A villager brushed past him. "Move aside, boy."
Aren stepped away without comment. The man lowered a bucket but grumbled under his breath, "Always standing around. Never speaks. Gives me chills."
Aren heard it. He didn't respond. He was thinking about the tremor.
On his way back home, he noticed people gathered near the square. Voices were raised; uneasy murmurs moved through the crowd.
Aren approached.
A hunter lay on the ground, pale and sweating. Two men held him upright while an elder examined his arm. A deep, jagged wound ran from wrist to elbow. Darkened veins spread around it like roots.
The elder shook his head. "A Dao beast attack."
Gasps rose from the crowd.
Hearthvale rarely saw Dao beasts. The Lowwood normally kept them deep inside its boundaries. The villagers looked at the injured hunter with fear and disbelief.
Aren watched too—but without the panic everyone else showed. He studied the wound, the discolored veins, the slight pulse beneath the skin.
"Something forced it out of the woods," the elder muttered. "But what?"
Aren felt the same tremor he sensed earlier.Stronger now.
He murmured, almost to himself, "The threads are unstable."
The elder turned sharply. "What was that?"
Aren didn't repeat it. He simply looked at the hunter's arm again.
The villagers watched him uneasily.
"Quit staring, boy," someone snapped.
"Have some respect."
"He's making it worse with that blank face of his."
Aren blinked once. The comments weren't new. Their irritation told him more about them than about himself.
The elder sighed. "Enough. All of you."
He motioned for the hunter's family to carry him away.
As the crowd dispersed, Lio appeared at Aren's side.
"You don't go near people when they're in a state like that," he whispered harshly. "They'll blame you for anything."
Aren turned. "Why?"
"Because you don't react like they do," Lio said. "You don't show worry. Or fear. People think that's strange."
Aren didn't see how emotion would help. Worry wouldn't heal the hunter. Fear wouldn't solve anything.
But Lio looked strained, so Aren simply nodded.
Beside them, the elder lingered, watching Aren with a thoughtful expression—not fearful like the others, but cautious.
"You sensed something, didn't you?" the elder asked.
Aren met his eyes. "The ground shifted. Twice."
The elder's brow furrowed. Before he could ask more, a loud crack echoed from the forest. Birds fled the treetops.
All three of them turned.
Another tremor rolled through the soil.This time, even the villagers felt it.
Someone shouted, "What was that?!"
The elder's face paled. "Something is coming."
Aren looked toward the Lowwood.He felt the threads tighten—like a string pulled taut.
A distant roar swept through the trees.
Villagers panicked.
Aren didn't move.He simply watched.
The roar faded into the trees, leaving the village frozen.
For a long moment, no one spoke.The only sound was the creak of shutters as a breeze moved through Hearthvale.
Then voices rose—soft at first, then sharper.
"Another beast?""It sounded close.""Should we warn the outer farms?"
Fear moved through the crowd like a cold draft. Villagers stepped away from the forest edge, some ushering children indoors.
Aren watched the tree line. The Willowshade leaves barely stirred. The forest looked unchanged. But the Dao threads beneath the soil still trembled, a steady, irregular pulse.
Lio grabbed Aren's arm. "Come on. We should go home."
Aren didn't resist, though he kept looking toward the Lowwood.
Inside their small house, their mother was kneading dough. She stopped when she saw their faces.
"What happened?"
"Something in the forest," Lio said. "A roar. People are shaken."
Her hands tightened over the dough. "Dao beasts?"
"Maybe."
Aren set the water bucket down. His mother turned to him.
"Aren, did you see anything?"
"No."
"But you sensed something," Lio added, his voice low.
Their mother frowned. "Sensed?"
Aren didn't know how to explain it. He had felt the threads shift—twice before the roar, and once after. But saying so would only make his mother worry more.
So he simply said, "The forest is unsettled."
His mother let out a slow breath. "We'll stay inside today."
The day dragged on.
The villagers didn't return to their normal rhythm. People moved in cautious groups, speaking quietly. No one approached the forest path.
Aren stayed near the door, watching the road through a small gap in the wood. His mother thought he was resting. Lio thought he was being obedient.
In truth, he was waiting.
Every few minutes, he placed a hand on the ground. The trembling had faded but hadn't vanished entirely. It felt like the tail end of something—an echo.
Not danger, not safety.Something in between.
The uncertainty interested him more than the roar itself.
By afternoon, the elder walked through the village, calling for calm.
"Boards the windows if you wish," he said. "But stay alert, not afraid."
People nodded, some grateful, some unconvinced.
When he reached Aren's home, he paused.
"Is Aren inside?"
Lio stiffened. Their mother's hands froze.
Aren stepped out.
The elder studied him for a moment. His gaze wasn't hostile, only searching.
"When you spoke earlier… you said the ground shifted."
Aren nodded.
"Did it feel like something rising? Or moving? Or breaking?"
Aren thought about it. "Not rising. Not breaking."
The elder leaned closer. "Then what?"
"Searching."
The elder inhaled sharply.
Lio looked confused. "What does that mean?"
The elder didn't answer right away. After a moment, he said, "The Lowwood hasn't stirred like this in years. Whatever is inside… it may be aware of us again."
A chill ran through his voice, though he hid it well.
He turned to Aren. "If you sense it again, tell me. Immediately."
Aren nodded once.
That night, the village barred doors and shuttered windows.
Lio and their parents slept close together in the main room. Aren lay slightly apart, staring at the ceiling.
The house was silent.
The forest was silent.
But the threads beneath the earth…They were still moving.
Faint.Soft.Searching.
Aren closed his eyes, not in fear, but in thought.
Something in the Lowwood was reaching outward.
And Aren wanted to know why.