They hastily moved away from Dartridge, supporting their injured. Eamon felt ill at ease. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.

  Unseen by the group, hidden among the twisted trees, a shadowy figure watched them in silence. It was the same creature that had emerged in the ruins, tasked with a singular purpose: retrieve the fragment. Its form was indistinct, cloaked in swirling darkness that blended seamlessly with the shadows of the forest. Crimson eyes burned with malevolent intent as it tracked the group’s every step.

  The creature moved closer, intent on completing its task—but as it stepped forward, its body slammed into an invisible force. A hiss of pain escaped its lips as its blackened skin sizzled upon contact with the unseen barrier. The creature recoiled, pulling its hand back in frustration. It snarled, baring jagged teeth as smoke rose from the charred edges of its form.

  The barrier. Even without the fragment powering it, the barrier held strong.

  The creature prowled along the edge of the barrier, testing it in different places, but each time it tried to push forward, the same sizzling burn repelled it. It glared at Eamon and the group with furious red eyes, but it remained silent, unable to break through the protective magic that surrounded them.

  After a few long moments, when the group had disappeared over the horizon, the creature straightened. Its body flickered like a shadow caught in the wind, and without a word, it turned and began retreating back toward the ruins.

  The barrier wouldn’t hold forever and it would return.

  Eamon trudged alongside the weary group as they made their way back to Stonebridge, the sun dipping low and casting elongated shadows that seemed to chase them. The atmosphere was thick with tension, broken only by the labored breaths of the injured and the rustling of the forest. Eamon's father, Garret, leaned heavily on him, each step a struggle.

  As they approached the village outskirts, familiar sights did little to ease Eamon's unease. Villagers emerged from their cottages, faces shifting from relief to alarm at the sight of the battered men. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, eyes widening at bloodstained clothes and haunted expressions.

  "What's happened?" a woman called out, clutching her child tightly.

  Before anyone could answer, Jorik pushed his way forward, his gaze fixed sharply on Eamon. "What trouble have you brought upon us now?" he demanded.

  Eamon felt his stomach knot. Avoiding their eyes, he focused on helping his father toward their cottage.

  "Let them tend to the injured first," Master Rowan interjected, his tone firm but weary. "There's time for explanations later."

  Jorik scowled but stepped back, though his glare never left Eamon.

  Inside their home, Eamon gently eased Garret onto a chair. His mother, Elara, hurried over, her face pale. "What happened?" she whispered, her hands trembling as she assessed Garret's wounds.

  "An attack," Garret winced. "A creature... something we've never seen before."

  Elara's eyes darted to Eamon. "Are you hurt?"

  "I'm fine," Eamon replied quietly. "I need to fetch Matron Elspeth."

  As he turned to leave, Garret grasped his arm weakly. "Be careful, son," he murmured. "People are scared."

  Eamon nodded, the weight of his father's words heavy on his shoulders.

  Outside, the murmurs had grown louder. Small groups formed, their hushed conversations punctuated by glances in his direction. Eamon pulled his hood up, hoping to avoid attention as he made his way toward the healer's cottage.

  "Eamon!" a familiar voice called softly.

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  He turned to see Tomas hurrying toward him, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. "What happened out there?"

  Eamon hesitated. "It's... complicated. I need to get Elspeth for my father."

  "I'll come with you," Tomas offered, falling into step beside him.

  They walked in silence for a moment before Tomas spoke again. "People are saying crazy things. That you brought something back from the ruins."

  Eamon's jaw tightened. "I didn't bring anything back that would harm us."

  Tomas glanced at him sideways. "They also say you... used magic."

  Eamon stopped walking, avoiding Tomas's gaze. "I did what I had to do."

  "Is it true?" Tomas pressed, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Eamon looked at his friend, conflicted. "Yes."

  Tomas's eyes widened. "But how? Since when?"

  "I don't know," Eamon admitted. "It just... happened."

  Before Tomas could ask more, they reached Elspeth's door. Eamon knocked urgently, and moments later, the elderly healer appeared.

  "Matron Elspeth, my father is hurt," Eamon said quickly. "He needs help."

  Her eyes softened with concern. "Lead the way."

  As they escorted Elspeth back, the village bell began to toll—a summons for an emergency meeting.

  The village square buzzed with anxious energy as villagers gathered, their faces lit by the warm glow of torches. Eamon stood off to the side, hoping to remain unnoticed, but whispers followed him nonetheless.

  "He's the one who went to the ruins," a man muttered to his companion.

  "Ever since then, nothing but trouble," the other replied.

  Master Rowan stepped onto the raised platform at the center of the square. Raising his hands for silence, he began, "Friends, we have faced a grave incident. Our expedition to Dartridge was met with unexpected danger."

  "What kind of danger?" someone called out.

  "A creature attacked us," Rowan continued. "Something we've never encountered before."

  Jorik pushed his way forward, his voice sharp. "And who led us to this? That boy!" He pointed directly at Eamon. "First he disobeys our warnings, and now he brings calamity upon us!"

  All eyes turned to Eamon. He felt his face heat up, his heart pounding in his chest.

  Eamon stepped forward, his heart pounding. "I know you're afraid," he began, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I am too. But I didn't cause this. We went to Dartridge to find answers, to help and protect our village.”

  "Help?" Jorik scoffed. "You've done nothing but bring misfortune!"

  "That's not fair," a soft voice spoke up.

  Maeve stepped forward hesitantly, her hands clenched at her sides. "Eamon would never hurt the village. He's not to blame."

  Jorik glared at her. "Stay out of this, girl. This is a matter for adults."

  Maeve's cheeks flushed, but she stood her ground. "But it's true! He saved lives today."

  "Enough," Rowan interjected, his tone firm. "This is not the time for pointing fingers. We need to focus on what happened and how to move forward."

  "Then tell us," an elderly woman demanded. "Did he use magic?"

  A murmur spread through the crowd. Eamon swallowed hard, feeling all eyes on him.

  Rowan glanced at Eamon before addressing the villagers. "Yes, Eamon displayed abilities that appear to be magical in nature."

  Gasps and whispers erupted.

  "This is madness!" Jorik shouted. "Magic is dangerous and unnatural!"

  "Maybe it could help us," a man suggested cautiously. "If Eamon can use magic, perhaps he can protect the village."

  "Or bring more harm," another countered. "We can't trust something we don't understand."

  Eamon felt a surge of frustration and fear. Summoning his courage, he stepped forward. "I know you're scared. So am I. But I didn't choose this. I'm just trying to figure it out."

  "You're too young to be meddling with such powers," an older woman said sternly.

  "Then help me," Eamon pleaded. "Let me learn how to control it. Maybe it can keep us safe."

  Jorik shook his head. "We can't risk it. The boy's reckless actions have already cost us."

  "That's not fair!" Maeve protested. "You can't blame him for everything."

  "Maeve, hush," her mother admonished from the crowd. "Let the adults handle this."

  Tears of frustration welled in Maeve's eyes, but she fell silent.

  Rowan raised his hands again. "Please, everyone. We need to make a decision. Fear won't protect us, but perhaps knowledge will. I propose that Eamon be allowed to learn more about his abilities, under strict supervision."

  "And if something goes wrong?" Jorik challenged.

  "Then we'll deal with it together," Rowan replied.

  The villagers exchanged uncertain glances. Whispers filled the air.

  "I don't like it," someone muttered.

  "But what choice do we have?" another responded.

  "Maybe it's a sign," a third suggested. "That things are changing."

  Finally, Rowan addressed the crowd. "All those who agree with my proposal, raise your hands."

  A scattering of hands went up, including those of Master Rowan and a few others.

  "Those opposed?"

  More hands rose, Jorik's among them.

  The majority seemed undecided, their hands remaining down.

  Seeing the stalemate, Merrick, the village elder, stepped forward. "Perhaps we can compromise. Eamon is young and inexperienced. If we guide him carefully, we might benefit from his abilities without unnecessary risk."

  Jorik grumbled but didn't object further.

  Rowan nodded. "Very well. Eamon will be allowed to continue, but under close watch. We must all remain vigilant."

  The crowd murmured in reluctant agreement.

  Eamon exhaled, relief mingling with apprehension. He knew this was only the beginning of a challenging path.

  really long read. So, here we are, keeping things bite-sized for now!