The bell rang loud and clear in the plaza. Camdyn still clung to its rope, heart in his chest. Eyes stared at him, drawing closer, confused murmurs settling in the air. It was unusual for another town meeting to take place so soon.

  One by one, the colony filtered in. Mothers wiping dirt from their children’s faces, elders leaning heavily on their staffs, guards with fingers twitching near the hilts of their blades. The people always came when the bell summoned them, even if they didn’t know why.

  Camdyn stepped away from the tower, the heavy rope swaying behind him. He moved to the center of the circle and turned to face them all, pulse thundering in his ears. He spotted familiar faces in the crowd: His mother, standing off to the side, worry etched deep into her face. Beside her, his sister-in-law, watching wary but curious. And then finally, his father, tall and shadowed, arms crossed over his chest. His face conveyed a silent but stern warning.

  Camdyn took a steadying breath. “I called you here because I found something,” he said, voice carrying. “I didn’t want to bring it up until I knew, but now I’m certain. There is a sickness in the woods, and it is spreading. It’s called the Withering.”

  Gasps and mutters swept through the crowd like wind through dry grass.

  “You’ve seen hints of it,” Camdyn continued. “Blighted patches of land. Animals twisted beyond recognition…”

  For a moment, he saw a glimpse of the creature that took his brother. A flash of dead eyes and gnashing teeth. He pressed on. “And now this illness. This strange sickness that’s reached into our homes. I believe it’s all connected.”

  “It’s those things out there,” a voice called out.

  Others muttered in agreement.

  “No,” Camdyn said, firm, “I know that’s what you’ve been told, but I believe it's so much bigger than that.”

  A hush fell again, heavy and expectant.

  Camdyn hesitated. This was the part that would lose them. He knew it. But he also knew he couldn’t leave without telling the truth. The whole truth.

  “I met someone,” he said. “Out in the forest…. She’s not human like us, but she’s not a threat either. She’s a protector of nature. What we would call a nymph.”

  That did it. The silence shattered. Voices rose in disbelief, in anger.

  “Lies!”

  “There’s no such thing!”

  “He’s been cursed—enchanted!”

  Camdyn held his ground. “She’s real. And she saved my life. She’s the one who told me about the Withering, about where it started. And how we might stop it.”

  “Magic,” someone spat. “You expect us to trust magic?”

  “No,” Camdyn said. “I expect you to trust me.”

  He looked around at the sea of faces. Fearful. Skeptical. Outraged. “I know how this sounds. I know it breaks everything you’ve been taught to believe. But I’ve seen what’s out there. I’ve seen what this Withering will do if we do nothing. If there’s a way to stop it, I have to try.”

  “And you’d stake all our lives on the word of a ghost in the woods?” his father’s voice rang out at last “On some thing you’ve known for a handful of days?”

  I’d rather stake our lives on hope than on fear.”

  “And you think it cares about you?” his father pressed, “Those things watched us die from the shadows. If something humanoid is out there, like you claim, why would it even want to help us?”

  “Because not everyone thinks like you, Dad,” Camdyn replied, voice strained and weary, “Not everyone sees blood and a brewing war. Some just want peace. And to be left in peace.”

  He took a breath, the words burning in his chest. “I’ve followed your lead my whole life. Even when I didn’t agree. Even when it hollowed me out inside. But this… this is where I draw the line. If there’s a chance to heal the land, to stop this before it becomes something far worse than we can imagine, then I have to take it. With or without your blessing.”

  His father clenched his jaw, but said nothing more.

  Camdyn then addressed the gathered crowd. “I’m not asking you to follow me. I’m not even asking you to believe me. I just want you to be careful. Stay away from infected land. Watch for signs of Withered creatures. Check your food. Be alert.”

  Then he stepped away, and the crowd parted. His mother reached for him, eyes wide with concern.

  He brushed past her, “Mom, please. I need to do this.”

  The weight of the crowd’s judgment still clung to Camdyn as he slipped away from the gathering. Outside the meeting hall, the air was thick with whispers and wary glances, but he kept his head down and made his way home.

  Inside, the house was too quiet like it was waiting to say goodbye.

  He moved through familiar rooms, packing with the muscle memory of his hunting days. Rations. A canteen. A simple bedroll. His hand hovered over the hilt of a blade—his brother’s knife. The leather grip, worn smooth by stronger hands, blade once dull but now sharpened anew. Camdyn turned it over slowly, the metal catching the dim light overhead. He hadn’t touched it since the day they buried him.

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  “I couldn’t save you,” he whispered, barely above a breath. “But I’ll save the rest.”

  He slid the knife into his hilt and straightened, exhaling slowly.

  A soft knock came from the open door behind him. He turned to find Raya leaning against the frame, her expression a mix of warmth and quiet understanding.

  “I figured I’d find you here.”

  Camdyn offered a tired smile, grateful for her presence but unsure of what to say.

  She glanced at the pack, then met his eyes. “So… this nymph. She’s the reason you’re risking everything?”

  Camdyn hesitated, then gave a slight nod. “She’s part of it. But it’s more than that.”

  Raya stepped inside with a heavy sigh. “You always were the quiet one. The thinker. Never thought you’d be the one walking into something this big.”

  “Me neither,” he said. “But someone has to.”

  “And here I thought you didn’t want to be a leader.” She offered a faint smile before her expression softened. “I used to worry you might settle. Fall in line, do what everyone expected of you, and never find your own voice. Sure, maybe someday you’d have a quiet life. A garden. A family… But it wouldn’t have been yours, not really.”

  Camdyn looked down, a faint furrow forming between his brows. “I used to think that kind of life was enough. Safe and predictable. I thought maybe if I kept my head down, stayed out of the way, I could avoid losing anyone else…”

  She cut him off, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. “A life without risk isn’t a life worth living. I still believe that. Even after everything. It’s not about avoiding risk. It’s about deciding which ones are worth taking.”

  Then, quieter she added, “If this is worth it to you, Cam, then no one has the right to say otherwise.”

  He managed a smile. Something quiet, touched with both sorrow and gratitude before pulling her into a tight hug.

  “Just come back in one piece, okay?”

  “I will.”

  Camdyn stepped outside. The path to the gate stretched long and narrow, lined with quiet onlookers. Some stood with crossed arms and guarded stares, their disapproval as sharp as steel in their eyes. Others watched in silence, uncertain whether this was a mission… or a death sentence.

  He kept his gaze forward, jaw set, pack heavy on his shoulders.

  Alden pushed through to the front of the crowd. His pack swung with his step, expression grim but not unkind.

  “You’ll need these,” he said, pressing a small bundle of dried herbs and a roll of bandages into Camdyn’s hand. “Feverroot. Burn salve. Something for pain…” His eyes scanned Camdyn’s face. “I don’t like this but I suppose I should’ve seen it coming.”

  Camdyn gave a faint smile. “Thanks, Doc. Hopefully, I won’t have to use them.”

  Alden clasped his shoulder, emotion brewing behind his eyes. “Hopefully,” he echoed, then stepped back without another word.

  A tug at his jacket stopped him next. He looked down to see Jessi, leaning on her crutch, her face set in determination. She held up a small woven bracelet—twine and colored thread knotted together unevenly, lovingly.

  “For luck,” she said shyly. “In case you get a sprain or worse out there.”

  He crouched, accepting it with a soft smile. “Thank you, Jessi. I’ll never take it off.”

  “Come back,” she said seriously, then darted back to her mother’s side.

  Camdyn stood, heart heavier than before. His gaze swept the crowd once more but the space where his father should have been, stood hollow. No parting words. No watchful silence. Just an absence, louder than anything.

  He turned toward the barricade, the iron gate that marked the edge of the only home he’d ever known.

  “Camdyn,” a voice called, soft and unsure.

  He turned to see his mother approaching. She reached him just as Raya began opening the gate.

  “Mom, if you’re trying to talk me out of it—”

  She raised her hands gently. “It’s clear your mind’s made up. I just… thought I’d walk you to the edge.”

  They walked in silence for a few paces. Behind them, the crowd began to thin.

  At the gate, they paused. “I’m scared, Cam,” she said quietly, her voice tight with emotion. “So scared of what could happen to you. But I’m also proud. You’ve carried so much pain… and instead of letting it break you, you’re using it to move forward.” She began to choke on her words. “I see now. I’ve been the one holding you back.”

  Camdyn reached out, brushing a tear from her cheek. “I’m lucky to have a mom who cares this much. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.” he smiled, “I love you.”

  She closed her hand over his, pressing it to her cheek. “I love you more.”

  “I’ll be safe,” he promised. “I’ve got Roenen’s blade. And Flora has my back.”

  His mother, hesitant for a moment, finally said, “I trust you.”

  The gate creaked open with slow finality, its rusted hinges surrendering to the wild world beyond.

  “Good luck out there,” Raya said warmly as he passed.

  He paused in front of her. “My father—” he finally said.

  She was already ahead of him. “I’ll look after this community while you’re gone. Don’t you worry. We’ll be okay. Just focus on staying alive out there.” She tipped her chin toward the shadowed woods.

  Camdyn gave her a steady nod, drew in a breath, and stepped forward.

  Behind him, the crowd had quieted. Some watched with unreadable expressions. A few turned away, unwilling to witness what felt like betrayal. Others looked on with wary hope.

  Then gasps rippled through the onlookers.

  At the edge of the woods, a figure emerged quiet as moonlight, graceful as wind on water. Flora stepped from the trees, her presence both alien and beautiful.

  Camdyn stopped, stunned but only for a heartbeat. His eyes found hers, and a smile broke across his face.

  He walked to her.

  Someone in the crowd muttered a curse. Another made a sign for protection. But no one stepped forward. No one stopped him.

  Camdyn paused just before the treeline and looked back one last time. His mother stood nearest the gate, hands clutched to her chest, eyes brimming with both pride and fear.

  “When all of this is over, I’ll come back.” He vowed.