The sun was beginning to sink, bleeding orange and gold across the edge of the sky. Shadows stretched long over the fields, swallowing the ground in slow, creeping strokes. The light was soft, almost beautiful but it did nothing to soothe her.
Shanane didn't move. Her arms remained wrapped tightly around herself, her body still cold from the truth. The wind had picked up again, brushing through the grass, tugging at her coat. But she couldn't bring herself to go back. Not yet.
Not back to the cottage.
Not after what she'd seen. Not after what she'd read. Not after feeling that presence behind her, quiet and watchful.
She couldn't go back and sit alone in that house, knowing that beneath the floorboards, beyond the hidden door, something waited. Knowing that every nightmare she'd dismissed had been real all along. Knowing that her grandmother, the only person she had, had lived a life of darkness she never wanted Shanane to discover.
But she had. And now she couldn't unsee it.
Her legs ached, her fingers numb, but the idea of returning to that place of being alone inside those walls again, twisted her stomach with dread.
But what choice did she have?
She had no friends in the village. No one to turn to. The people here barely looked at her without suspicion. Most of them whispered and crossed the street when she passed. She was her grandmother's blood, after all. That was enough.
Except… There was one.
Eoghan.
She hadn't wanted to rely on him. Hadn't wanted to trust anyone, especially not someone from the same village that hated her.
But he'd been kind. Honest. He'd looked at her with concern, not fear. He hadn't avoided her gaze, hadn't treated her like something cursed. He had helped her, calmly, gently, without asking for anything in return.
And right now, he was the only one she could turn to.
She hesitated, arms tightening as the sky deepened to violet. The thought of asking him for help made her feel exposed, vulnerable, weak. But pride had no place in her now. She couldn't return to that house alone. Not tonight.
She needed someone. She needed him. So she stood, legs unsteady, and started walking back toward the village. The streets were mostly empty when she arrived, quiet and shadowed as lanterns flickered to life. A few villagers passed by in the distance, their heads bowed, their pace quick. She spotted a woman sweeping her porch and approached carefully, cautiously.
__Shanane: "Excuse me…I'm sorry to bother you, but..."
The woman looked up and immediately stiffened. Her eyes locked onto Shanane's face for a heartbeat, then without a word, she turned and disappeared into her home, slamming the door behind her with a finality that echoed.
The young woman exhaled shakily, swallowing the familiar lump in her throat. her heart sinking. Not even surprised anymore.
She kept walking, eyes scanning the few scattered figures still outside. Eventually, she spotted an older man seated near the village well, watching the sky with a faraway gaze. He looked rough around the edges, weathered hands, boots worn from work but his face didn't carry the same tension the others wore when they saw her.
She approached slowly, her voice quiet but clear.
__Shanane: "Sir… Do you know where I can find the huntsman, Eoghan?"
The man blinked, surprised not by the question, but perhaps by the fact that she had dared ask it.
He studied her for a moment, gaze lingering not with judgment, but with curiosity. And maybe, a flicker of understanding.
__Man: "Eoghan?" he said after a pause. "Aye."
He pushed himself to his feet with a soft grunt, then pointed toward the trees at the west edge of the village.
__Man: "Follow the old path that runs behind the mill, past the tall stones. He lives in a cabin just beyond the tree line. You'll know it when you see a lantern hanging from a crooked post at the gate."
Shanane nodded, her voice catching slightly.
__Shanane: "Thank you."
He didn't respond, just gave her a slow, silent nod before turning away.
And with that, she headed toward the trees. Toward the only person who might still be willing to help her.
Shanane walked quickly, her boots crunching softly against the dirt path that wound between the thinning trees. The village faded behind her, swallowed by the darkening sky and her own rising heartbeat. The only light came from the distant moon, veiled in clouds, and the occasional flicker of a lantern hanging from a porch far behind her.
The woods loomed ahead quiet, dense, and somehow comforting in their solitude. At least the trees didn't whisper. At least the trees didn't lie.
She followed the path as the man had described, past the weathered mill and the line of tall standing stones, ancient and cracked with moss climbing their sides. Every so often, she glanced back, but there was nothing behind her. Just silence. Just her own shallow breath.
Then she saw it. A faint orange glow. A crooked wooden post leaned at the edge of a clearing, and from it hung a lone lantern, swaying gently in the breeze. Its light cast a soft circle over the gate below, which led to a modest, solid-looking cabin nestled against the trees.
It was quiet.
Smoke drifted lazily from the chimney, and she could just make out the warm flicker of firelight behind the shuttered windows.
She hesitated at the gate, her fingers gripping the worn wood. Her throat felt tight. This wasn't easy not after everything. Not after baring open the truth of what she'd been born into. But she couldn't carry it alone anymore. Not tonight.
Her fingers unclenched slowly.
She stepped through the gate and approached the door, her heart pounding. The cabin felt still, peaceful even, but there was weight here, too. Not darkness, not like the cottage she'd left behind… but something solid. Steady.
She raised her hand and knocked. She swallowed, pulse hammering in her ears.
The door creaked open and Eoghan stood there, firelight flickering behind him, casting warm gold across his features. His sharp green eyes narrowed slightly as they fell on her, then softened, just a little, when he saw her face.
He didn't speak right away. He didn't need to. He saw it in her eyes. In her trembling shoulders. In the way she stood just outside, like someone on the edge of falling.
And he stepped aside, quietly. Wordlessly inviting her in.
She stepped over the threshold slowly, almost reluctantly, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if shielding against something more than the cold. The warmth inside Eoghan's cabin enveloped her immediately, a welcome contrast to the heavy air outside but it did little to settle the storm inside her.
The space was modest, functional, but lived-in. A fire crackled in the stone hearth, casting shadows across the wooden floor. Animal pelts were draped over chairs, and rows of hunting knives, tools, and maps lined one of the walls. Everything had its place. Everything was in order. Unlike the chaos she had just come from.
Eoghan closed the door behind her with a soft click. He didn't ask questions, not yet. He moved past her, grabbed another log from the stack beside the fireplace, and placed it into the flames, coaxing the fire back to life.
Shanane remained standing near the door, her eyes drawn to the small details of his home. It was the opposite of hers, nothing hidden, nothing layered in lies. Just walls and wood and warmth.
__Eoghan: "You came a long way this late." his voice was calm, low, breaking the silence gently.
__Shanane: "I… I didn't know where else to go."
He turned to her then, his gaze steady. There was no judgment in his expression. Only quiet concern. He didn't push, didn't demand answers she wasn't ready to give.
__Eoghan: "You're not hurt?"
L
__Shanane: "No, not physically." she shook her head.
The words slipped out before she could stop them, and her voice cracked slightly at the end. She looked down at her hands, twisting them together to keep them from trembling. Her chest felt tight again, but this time, it wasn't from fear. It was from the sheer relief of being somewhere, anywhere, that wasn't filled with ghosts and whispers.
__Eoghan: "You want to sit?"
He gestured to the chair across from the fire. She hesitated, then nodded. Her legs felt heavy as she moved toward it, sinking slowly into the seat. The heat from the flames reached her face, her fingers, the stiffness in her body easing just slightly.
He handed her a mug, steam rising from it gently. She looked down and saw it was tea. Simple. Steadying.
__Shanane: "Thank you."
He didn't sit right away. He remained standing, arms folded lightly, watching her with the quiet patience of someone who had spent years tracking things that didn't want to be found.
__Eoghan: "Do you want to talk about it?"
Shanane stared into the fire, the light flickering in her eyes. Part of her wanted to say yes, to unload everything, to confess the terrifying truths pressed against her ribs. But the words stuck in her throat.
He wouldn't believe her. Not the rituals. Not the secret room. Not the name. And certainly not the thing in the dark that watched her now, even when she was no longer alone.
So instead, she offered only part of the truth. The piece she could afford to share.
__Shanane: "It's just… a lot. The house, the village, the looks, the silence...I thought coming back would bring me closure. But the more I'm here, the more I realize I don't know anything about the woman who raised me."
The huntsman jaw shifted slightly, but he didn't interrupt.
__Shanane: "She was kind. Gentle. She gave me everything she had. But now she's gone, and people act like she was something else entirely. And I don't know what to believe anymore."
Eoghan moved then, slowly, sitting down in the chair opposite her. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his green eyes locked onto hers.
__Eoghan: "Sometimes… people carry things they don't want others to see. Things they think will protect the ones they love."
She looked at him sharply, something tightening in her throat.
__Shanane: "What if it was more than that? What if it wasn't just things she hid… but parts of who she really was?"
He didn't answer right away. The fire cracked between them.
__Eoghan: "Then I think that doesn't erase what she was to you. Whatever else she did or didn't do, she raised you. Protected you. That matters too."
She stared at the flames, his words echoing softly in her mind. But the warmth of the fire couldn't reach the hollow cold inside her. Not yet. Not when so many shadows still waited in the dark.
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∆☆ ATHERAMOND ☆∆
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The silence between them stretched, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt like breathing space, quiet ground where Shanane could begin to collect the scattered pieces of herself. The tea in her hands had gone lukewarm, but she held it anyway, the faint warmth grounding her as much as Eoghan's steady presence.
She wanted to believe his words. She wanted to believe that the kindness her grandmother had shown her, the love that had been so real in the quiet corners of their home, could still be true, even if everything else wasn't.
But doubt had already begun its slow rot inside her.
She raised her eyes to Eoghan. He was watching her closely, not in the way people in the village watched, waiting for her to snap, to reveal something monstrous but with patience. With a strange, silent loyalty she hadn't expected from someone who barely knew her.
__Shanane: "Do you think people can be both?"
__Eoghan: "Both what?" he blinked once, brow furrowing.
__Shanane: "Good and… something else. Something darker."
The huntsman didn't respond immediately. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting toward the fire. The shadows along the walls flickered and shifted, making the room feel smaller, more intimate. More like confession.
__Eoghan: "I think people are rarely one thing. Sometimes the worst people carry kindness. Sometimes the kindest people carry… things they never asked for: shadows, regrets, history they didn't choose."
Shanane swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
__Shanane: "Do you think the villagers were right to fear her?"
Eoghan's gaze returned to her, and something softened in it. Not pity, but understanding.
__Eoghan: "I don't know what they feared, exactly. But I don't think fear is always about what's true. It's about what people don't understand. And most people… they don't try to understand what makes them uncomfortable."
Shanane looked down, her fingers tightening slightly around the mug. Her voice came quieter, more raw.
__Shanane: "She was all I had."
__Eoghan: "I know."
And something about the way he said it: gently, firmly, without a trace of doubt made her feel like he actually did. Like he wasn't just offering sympathy, but something real. Something solid.
She leaned her head back against the chair, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.
__Shanane: "I don't want to go back there tonight."
There was no shame in her voice. Just exhaustion. Fear. Truth.
Eoghan didn't ask what "there" meant. He didn't need to.
__Eoghan: "You don't have to."
She opened her eyes, turning to look at him, uncertainty flickering behind her lashes.
__Shanane: "I don't want to impose."
__Eoghan: "You're not. Not tonight."
For the first time in days, the tightness in her chest loosened just a little. Not gone. Not healed. But something had shifted.
She wasn't alone in this moment. And sometimes, that was enough to hold on.