Third Person’s Pov:
The night wrapped itself around the old inn like a shroud.
Far beyond the bustle of Willowpeak Town, far even from the outskirts where the lanterns dimd and the forest thickened, an abandoned structure crouched in the wilderness - its roof sagging, its windows boarded, its porch cracked under years of neglect.
A dirt path led to it, overgrown and nearly swallowed by weeds, as though the world had long forgotten this place existed.
But tonight, sothing moved.
A shadow broke away from the treeline and sprinted across the clearing - silent, swift, purposeful. Then another. And another.
Three figures approached the inn, checking their surroundings before slipping through the warped front door. They moved unhesitatingly, as if they had done so many tis before.
The interior was as dilapidated as the outside - dust, broken stools, a cracked bar counter - but they didn’t spare it more than a glance.
Their destination lay below.
The wooden floorboards gave a faint groan as they approached the trapdoor at the far end. One of them lifted it, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
Minutes later, two more arrived. Then a group of five. And the night continued pulling wolves into its shadows.
Outside, hidden in the wilderness, lay more than twenty warriors - camouflaged, silent, and alert. They were positioned in strategic clusters around the building, weapons sheathed, comms active. Their expressions were tight with readiness, awaiting only the signal.
Leading the operation were River, Oscar, and Jasper. The three crouched low behind a thick cluster of shrubs. River’s expression remained calm as he listened through the small device in his ear, his finger periodically adjusting the frequency.
Oscar was still, deadly calm, but tension radiated off him like heat. Jasper was crouched beside them, scanning the periter.
Inside the estate’s study, far away yet connected through the sa live feeds, Eva, Kieran, and Rowan listened as well. The study was dim, the only light coming from the screens and the small lamp behind Eva. She sat forward, elbows on the table, gaze locked on the audio monitor.
Kieran leaned against the desk behind her, arms crossed but jaw tight. Rowan stood near the screen, one hand flat on the desk, listening with sharp attention.
On the other side, below the inn, the students gathered deeper into the basent.
The basent was the only part of the inn that had been cleaned - swept of dust, walls wiped, and a few candles lit to offer dim, flickering illumination. About two dozen students were already there - so familiar faces who had graduated, others still third or fourth year students at Silver Moon.
They weren’t excited to be here.
In fact, most of them looked uneasy, shifting from foot to foot, whispering among themselves.
"When is that person getting here?" one boy hissed, glancing toward the staircase as though expecting footsteps at any mont.
"Relax," another muttered. "He always cos. Just wait."
"Easy for you to say," the first boy shot back. "I don’t want to stay one more second in this creepy place."
In Thorne estate’s study, Eva narrowed her eyes. This was the second ti she’s hearing the students of this secret group talking about a certain soone.
River’s voice crackled in her earpiece.
"Keep listening. We can’t miss any possible lead."
She nodded even though he couldn’t see her.
One girl hugged her jacket tighter around herself as she whispered, "I just want him to co, collect the offerings, and let us all leave. I hate it here."
Offerings.
Eva’s spine stiffened.
Kieran looked at her imdiately. Rowan moved closer.
"What offerings?" Eva murmured.
No one answered... because no one knew.
Outside the inn, Oscar exchanged a sharp glance with River.
"Offerings," he repeated in a low voice. "That’s new."
"Keep listening," River said again, but even he sounded strained.
What none of the students in the basent realized was that seven of them were carrying secrets of their own... without even knowing it.
Five of their phones had been bugged over the last few days. Silent, untraceable, woven into the hardware by Jasper’s best technicians.
And three others had bumped into a stranger in an alley in Lakeshire Town earlier that day - all three were with different people and bumped at different tis.
They had been bugged too.
They hadn’t noticed the faint brush against their clothes.
They hadn’t noticed the tiny fleck of tal being stuck to underside of their coats.
But every word they spoke now...
Every whisper...
Every nervous breath... was being heard by River and others.
Back in the basent, tension deepened.
"How long do you think he’ll take?" a second-year boy muttered.
"Stop asking," another snapped. "You think any of us want to stay?"
"What choice do we have?" soone else whispered bitterly. "If we stop delivering the offerings-"
"Don’t say it," the girl beside him cut in quickly. "Just don’t."
The fear in her voice was unmistakable.
Eva’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk.
What were they offering?
And who demanded it?
The candles flickered as a cold gust stirred the air... followed by the soft thud of footsteps upstairs.
Everyone went still.
A mont later, a cloaked figure appeared at the bottom of the basent stairs.
He swept into the room with a controlled, confident stride, the hood of his dark cloak shadowing his face. Every student imdiately straightened, standing taller, more rigid... fear tightening their shoulders.
When the man finally pushed back his hood, the basent went dead silent.
He wasn’t soone they didn’t know.
He was familiar.
A senior.
One of their own.
A face that had once displayed charm and politeness in the Academy hallways, now twisted into sothing smug and quietly superior.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said... without an ounce of true apology in his voice.
He looked at each student in turn, gaze sharp and expectant.
"Do you all have the offerings?" he asked.
Most nodded imdiately, eager to appease.
One boy, however - the sa boy who had complained earlier - lifted his chin and dared, "For how long do we have to keep doing this? I-I can barely keep up..."
The temperature in the room seed to drop.
The cloaked man turned to him slowly, his expression shifting into sothing colder, sharper.
"Oh?" he drawled, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You are already struggling? Then by all ans, stop."
The boy shivered.
The man leaned forward just slightly, his voice turning deadly soft.
"Go ahead. Stop your offerings. And see if the Great Evil allows you to live long enough to regret it."
The basent fell into silence.
Even the candles seed to hold their breath.
Inside Thorne estate’s study, Eva flinched.
Kieran’s eyes narrowed.
Rowan straightened.
Outside the Inn, River’s head jerked up, his eyes flashing.
Oscar’s fingers tightened around the branch he was gripping.
Jasper muttered under his breath, "What is this Great Evil now?"
The students in the basent swallowed their fear, none daring another question.
The cloaked man finally relaxed... just a fraction.
"Good," he said, pulling a large black bag from beneath his cloak. "If there are no more complaints, place your offerings in here."
He dropped the bag onto the table in the middle of the basent.
The students obeyed hesitantly.
While River, Oscar, Jasper, Eva, Kieran, and Rowan tried to understand what’s going on.
Offerings.
The Great Evil.
It was ti to act...!
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