The stablehand gave one last thankful nod as the three stepped back into the night. The fog had thickened, swirling low across the path in pale, curling strands. The light from their lantern seemed dimmer now, swallowed by the damp air. Joren adjusted his grip on the lantern. "Let's move quick," he murmured. Gus gave a grunt of agreement. They started down the narrow path toward the inn, boots crunching softly over damp roots and packed earth. A faint flicker caught Joren's eye as they were walking back, just standing between trees. An eerie green figure stood between two trees, when it began to make a sound that terrified them on the spot. Earlier, when they were walking to the wellhouse, Gus had been whistling a tune to distract himself. That tune was now being heard again, just not by Gus.
Another flicker, closer this time. Then two, then three, weaving through the mist. The air seemed colder. And then they heard a voice. Faint and hollow, warped by the fog: "Come on back now… supper's waitin'..." All three men froze. The voice was wrong, stretched and watery. It sounded like Maerle's voice, but not at the same time. Gus's eyes widened. "That's not her." Joren's breath quickened. That was enough. "Run," Joren hissed. They bolted, boots thudding against the wet ground, lantern swinging wildly as they sprinted for the glow of the inn's windows ahead.
They burst through the front door in a flurry of boots, fog, and gasping breaths. The inn's warmth hit them like a wave, the orange glow of the hearth a welcome sight. Maerle looked up from wiping mugs behind the counter, ecstatic at first, then brow furrowing as she took in their wide eyes and damp coats. "Oh you found Jack. Hey, what's up with you guys?" The stablehand was the first to find his voice, gasping between words. "Something... out there. It started... speaking to us." Maerle's smile faded, her expression turning grim. "Ghostlights," she said softly. "You're lucky to be back inside."
Joren caught his breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "They weren't just lights. One of them copied Gus's whistling too." The stablehand sank into a chair, head in his hands. Gus shook his head and gave Joren a sideways glance. "Well... looks like we earned that free stay." Joren let out a weak chuckle, tension still prickling beneath his skin. "Yeah. Let's call that a night." They retreated upstairs soon after, leaving the common room in uneasy quiet. Outside, unseen in the thickening mist, pale flickers still danced between the trees.
Mid-Afternoon – The Inn
The morning passed in a slow haze. Neither Joren nor Gus had slept much after the night's scare, and now they found themselves hunched at one of the inn's worn tables, two steaming mugs of bitter tea between them. Outside, the fog had thinned but not lifted entirely, lingering in pale ribbons along the edges of the clearing. From the kitchen drifted the scent of baking bread and herbs.
Gossip of last night had already spread, which caused one traveler to leave as soon as the sun rose. Maerle bustled between tables with practiced energy as if nothing happened the last night. The inn's little dog still dozed by the door, though its ears twitched with each creak of the floorboards. There was a tightness around her eyes, her usual cheer worn thinner beneath the surface. When she passed their table to refill their mugs, Gus looked up.
"Didn't think we'd end up the talk of the morning," he said wryly. Maerle gave a small smile. "Better you three come back than not at all. Folks here... they've been uneasy for weeks now from all these sightings and superstitions." Joren sipped his tea, glancing at the mist still curling beyond the window. "That old traveler from yesterday seems to have left in a hurry." Maerle replied, voice quiet. "Can't blame him. Travelers passing through keep moving faster these days. It never used to be like this, until they started appearing a year ago"
Maerle wiped her hands on her apron and leaned in slightly. "There is this old patch of land just beyond the far path. Folks used to gather herbs and roots there, but the lights started showing up and no one wants to chance it now. If you two are still set on poking around.. " her eyes flicked between them "I'd be grateful if someone checked it and maybe put a stop to whatever those things are." Gus arched a brow at Joren. "She's got us working for our room again." Joren gave a tired grin. "If it helps us sleep easier tonight. Besides, I think we can take one of them on if it comes to it" Maerle straightened, her smile faint. "Why don't you explore the area, it really is a lovely place during the day."
They rose from the table, shouldering their packs and heading toward the front. By the door, a few battered old lanterns hung from pegs; the glass smudged but serviceable. Gus grabbed two, handing one to Joren with a knowing look. "Just in case." The two set out to explore the area and check out the grove Maerle mentioned.
Late Evening – The Forest
They followed the outer path that curved through the trees, the ground soft beneath their boots. Shafts of pale sunlight pierced the canopy in patches, catching on leaves and spiderwebs stretched between the low branches. A pair of crows flapped overhead, their caws breaking the stillness. The farther they wandered, the quieter it seemed to become. Joren was lost in his own head, thinking about the bread from last night and how good it was. He was looking forward to having it again tonight.
Pushing aside a curtain of greenery, they found themselves staring at the remains of what must have been an old shrine or monument. Weathered stone pillars jutted from the ground at odd angles, their carvings faded beyond recognition. At the center stood a squat statue of what could only be described as a small troll. The stone was slick with moisture and streaked with green moss, giving it a life-like look about it. The green was so real, it felt as if it was a pigment of skin.
"Well," Gus said softly, circling it. "This must be what Maerle was talking about for things to discover out here." Joren ran a hand along the surface, feeling the warmth of the stone. "Think it's from the second era?" Gus shrugged. "Could be. If nobody comes out here anymore, makes you wonder what else got forgotten." They lingered for a few moments longer, eyes sweeping the strange site. Something about it felt odd, as if this statue was not supposed to belong here.
Gus gave a low hum, tapping a knuckle against one of the leaning pillars. "Well... we could probably stand here guessing all day, but I'd rather be back at that inn before the next round of ghost stories starts." Joren nodded, casting one last glance at the strange little troll. The longer he stared, the more it seemed to watch him back, when just then it started to move.
Joren blinked. The mossy green "skin" along the statue's arms rippled faintly. A slow, deliberate blink from two small black eyes, previously hidden beneath a film of grime, opened and stared right back at him. "Uh... Gus?" Joren's voice tightened. Gus, who had already turned half away, paused. "What?" "The statue's... not a statue." Gus turned fully, eyes narrowing. Sure enough, the little troll-creature shifted again, yawning like a dog. "What the hell are you doing, touching me in my sleep?"
Joren stumbled back a step. "It… talks?" Gus frowned slowly. "It complains." The creature flopped upright, stubby arms akimbo, glaring up at them with half-lidded eyes. "Tourists. Always pokin' and proddin'. Don't you two have somewhere else to be?" Joren exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Gus. The big man rubbed his chin, perplexed by such an absurd conversation. "Yeah... I think we've seen enough ancient mysteries for one day."
The troll-creature let out a harrumph and waddled back toward the tree line, disappearing from the clearing. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Gus shook his head. "Well... guess that explains why no one's been picking herbs out here lately." Joren exhaled, half a laugh. "Let's keep moving. I think Maerle mentioned a patch farther in. Might as well check the rest before we head back."
They left the clearing behind, following the narrowing path deeper into the trees. The air grew cooler, the light filtering through the canopy in pale, shifting beams. Occasional drifts of mist curled along the ground again, but nothing like the heavy fog of the night before.
After a short walk, the forest began to thin. A small grove opened before them with a cluster of low-growing shrubs and a beautiful array of flowers scattered about. The ground was uneven here, soft and littered with fallen branches. Joren crouched by one of the bushes, brushing aside the leaves. "This must be the place. Look at these stems, these are medicinal herbs." Gus stepped beside him, giving Joren a slow, confused look. "How do you know that?" Joren looked confidently at the herbs. "My mentor, Elira, taught me about them plenty of times when we were observing stars."
They worked quickly, filling a small cloth pouch with the herbs Maerle had mentioned. Overhead, the sunlight shifted again, dimming slightly as night soon approached. When their pouch was full, Gus gave a nod. "That should do it. Let's head back before this place changes its mind about being friendly." Joren stood, slinging the pouch over his shoulder. "Yeah. I'm ready for some of that bread."