The morning after the oath gathering, Ravenswood felt changed. The market square buzzed with cautious optimism, but Alex sensed an undercurrent of unease. The villagers' unity was fragile, and not everyone trusted the truce between light and shadow.
As Alex crossed the square, a commotion erupted near the old wooden bridge-the only access to the fortified part of town. Guards blocked the way, their voices sharp: "We must ask you to move on," one called, eyes scanning the crowd for threats.
Alex pushed through, lantern in hand. Beyond the bridge, the fort's main marketplace was nearly empty, only a handful of stallholders braving the tension. Soldiers paraded by the water fountains and in front of the barracks-more soldiers than Alex had ever seen in one place.
The Shadow Weaver appeared at Alex's side, his presence drawing wary glances from the guards. "The Unraveler's influence is spreading," he murmured. "It sows suspicion and fear. If we don't act, the web will tear from within."
A sudden chill swept through the air. Alex noticed a small, dark mark spreading on the bridge's timbers-a corruption, subtle but unmistakable, like the one they'd seen beneath the town.
Alex met the Weaver's gaze. "We need to warn everyone. The Unraveler is already here."
The Weaver nodded. "And this time, it's not just shadows we must face, but the darkness in people's hearts."
As the guards reluctantly let them pass, Alex realized the next battle would not be fought in hidden chambers, but out in the open-where trust and fear would decide Ravenswood's fate.