Chapter 2 — The Echoing Shadows

Aria

The hum was faint at first, like the sigh of distant wind through the cracks of a long-forgotten door. Aria stirred awake, her breath caught between sleep and consciousness. Somewhere beyond her small cottage, the village stirred too, but not with the sounds of mundane life. There was an unusual tension in the air—a crackling unease that seeped through the walls like frost, wrapping around her chest like an unseen hand.

She sat up, the faint melody from her dream still curling through her thoughts, and instinctively glanced toward the bed where she’d hidden the stone. The memory of its weight, its warmth, clung to her. It hadn’t stopped humming—not entirely. She could feel its resonance, faint and persistent, like a second heartbeat she couldn’t silence, and it seemed to grow heavier, as though alive.

Wrapping her cloak tightly around her shoulders, Aria pushed herself to her feet and tried to shake off the remnants of her restless dreams. The pull of the stone was strong, like an itch beneath her skin, but she had other things to worry about now.

The morning outside was dull and gray, the sunlight struggling to pierce through the thick clouds overhead. As she stepped out into the lane, the familiar scent of damp earth and woodsmoke was gone, replaced by something acrid and sharp, like burnt iron. The low, uneasy murmurs of the villagers reached her ears, but what struck her most was the silence that pressed against it—the absence of birdsong, the unnatural stillness of the forest beyond the village.

The moment Aria approached the central square, she saw them—the villagers clustered together by the well, their faces taut with fear. Their voices were low, urgent whispers, punctuated by the occasional sharp cry of alarm. Eyes darted, hands wrung together, and the usual tension that marked her existence here had thickened into something heavier.

"What's happening?" Aria asked, her voice hesitant as she approached a group of villagers huddled near the edge of the square.

A woman, her face pale and drawn, glanced toward her but said nothing. Beside her, a wiry man with graying hair spat at the ground, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Aria.

“The crops,” he muttered darkly, the words like gravel in his throat, “Rotten. Overnight. And the livestock—all dead or dying.”

Aria’s stomach twisted. “All of them? How?”

“Magic,” the man hissed, his voice rising with venom. “What else could it be? A hex, a curse. Something unnatural.”

The word hit like a lash, and Aria felt her breath hitch. Her scarred palm instinctively curled into her cloak, hidden from view. But before she could respond, another voice cut through the din.

“It’s not just the crops!”

A young boy stumbled into the square, his small body trembling. His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were wide with panic. “The ground by the fields—it’s turning to ash!” he cried, pointing toward the village’s outskirts. “Like it’s eating everything up!”

The crowd erupted into chaos. Shouts and cries overlapped, some villagers backing away from the well while others clutched their children closer. The raw fear rolling off them was suffocating.

Aria froze, her skin prickling with dread. She could feel their suspicion thickening, like smoke curling in the air around her. Across the square, the Elder’s reedy voice rose above the noise.

“Enough!”

His command cut through the villagers’ shouting, though their fear still simmered in their wide eyes and trembling hands. The Elder stepped forward, gripping his staff tightly as his weathered face hardened with authority.

“We will not solve this by shouting at each other,” he said, his sharp gaze sweeping over the crowd. “If the curse has reached us, then we must act quickly and wisely—together.”

The word “curse” sent a ripple of unease through the gathered villagers. For a moment, there was silence—broken only by the sound of someone’s muffled sob. Aria flinched as the word echoed in her mind, her scarred palm burning faintly beneath her cloak.

“What if—” someone began, their trembling voice faltering.

“What if it’s her?” a woman snapped, her words cutting the air like a knife. Her accusatory glare landed squarely on Aria. “Strange things have always happened around her! She’s cursed, we all know it!”

Aria’s heart clenched, heat flaring in her chest—anger and shame twined together so tightly she could barely breathe. Her mouth opened to protest, but the murmurs were spreading now, growing louder as more eyes turned to her.

“That’s enough,” the Elder barked, his tone brooking no argument. “Aria has lived here her whole life. She is one of us.”

For a brief moment, Aria felt a flicker of relief, but it was quickly snuffed out by the hesitant flicker in the Elder’s eyes before he turned away from her. It was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. Enough to make her feel the fragile thread of trust she clung to fray further.

The woman wasn’t the only one glaring now. Others were muttering, their fear twisting into suspicion. Aria felt the weight of their stares pressing down on her like iron chains.

“Elder,” she began, forcing her voice steady, “I can—”

Her words faltered as the air shifted suddenly, heavy and electric with a presence that didn’t belong. The hum she’d heard faintly before was growing louder now, threading through the village in a way only she seemed to notice.

Then it struck.

An unnatural shadow swept over the square, blotting out what little light the morning had offered. A cold, suffocating silence fell, and the air itself seemed to twist with a low, resonant groan that reverberated through Aria’s chest.

Her scarred palm burned as though the stone hidden beneath her bed was searing into her flesh. The villagers screamed, scattering toward the edges of the square, as the shadow pulsed with a sickly, gray light.

The ground beneath the well cracked, dark smoke curling up from the widening fissures. Where the stone met the earth, it crumbled into fine ash, spreading outward like spilled ink. The sound of splintering wood and breaking stone filled the air as cottages closest to the square began to collapse.

“No!” the Elder shouted, his voice hoarse with desperation. “Do not panic—stay together!”

But his words were drowned out by the chaos. The curse was alive, spreading with a ferocity that left the square in ruins within moments.

Aria’s scar burned hotter, and instinct took over. She pressed her palm against the aching heat in her chest, gasping as her magic roared to life.

“No, no, not now,” she whispered, trying to rein it in, but it was too late.

The sound came first—a low, deep rumble like the groan of a collapsing mountain. It surged outward, a shockwave of raw, vibrating energy that slammed into the encroaching ash. For a brief moment, the curse shuddered and stopped, as though repelled by the force of her magic.

Aria stumbled back, clutching her head as the sound continued to pulse around her. Her vision blurred, tears streaking her cheeks as the force of her own power overwhelmed her senses.

The villagers’ cries softened into stunned silence. When the rumbling stopped, Aria blinked and looked up. The ash had halted, its edges smoldering faintly where her magic had struck it.

“What did you—” one of them began, but their words caught in their throat.

The Elder stepped forward slowly, his gaze heavy as it landed on Aria. For a moment, it seemed like he might speak, but all he said was, “Go home, Aria. We’ll... discuss this later.”

The weight of the villagers’ stares bore down on her as she staggered away, her legs trembling beneath her. Once inside her cottage, she collapsed onto her bed, her breath hitching as she pressed her trembling hands to her face.

The stone beneath the bed seemed to hum louder now, as though mocking her attempts to bury it.

Her magic had revealed itself again, and this time there was no denying what they all must believe. The villagers would never see her as one of them now—not after this.

And worse, she knew deep down that the stone, the curse, and her magic were all connected. Somehow, she was at the center of it all.

As the village smoldered quietly in the distance, Aria curled into herself, the melody from her dreams echoing faintly in her mind—a haunting reminder of the path she could no longer avoid.