ENG-Leriana-Shadows on the Roads

CHAPTER 34 "Shadows on the Roads" The afternoon moves slowly over Jores. The sunlight begins to soften, tinting the interior of the house with warm, peaceful tones. On the wooden table, the parchment remains spread out, carefully written, the ink already completely dry. Anastasia looks at the letter in silence. She does not reread it. She does not correct it. She knows every word is exactly where it should be. Across from her, Leriana finishes reading the final lines attentively. Her eyes move slowly over the paper, absorbing the meaning of each sentence. She finds no drama in the letter. No accusations. No reproaches. Only truth. And care. When she finishes, she lifts her gaze. “It’s well written,” she says softly. Anastasia nods. “It was important that it was.” Silence settles between them for a few seconds. Leriana lowers her gaze to the parchment once more. “You don’t seem angry.” A faint smile appears on Anastasia’s lips. “I’m not.” Her tone is calm. “But I am worried.” The answer is simple. Honest. Leriana takes a deep breath, absorbing those words. Then she gently slides the parchment back toward Anastasia. “You can send it.” The phrase does not sound resigned. It sounds resolved. Anastasia watches her for a few more seconds. Assessing. Confirming. Then she carefully takes the letter and slowly rolls it up, securing it with a small wax seal. Her movements are precise, steady, full of routine and experience. She stands up from the table. “Come,” she says calmly. Together they step out into the small courtyard in front of the house. The air is fresh, and the sky is beginning to change color, announcing the end of the afternoon. Anastasia holds the letter in her hands and murmurs ancient words, speaking an enchantment known only to a few. The parchment vibrates softly. A faint light surrounds it. For a moment, it seems suspended in the air. And then— It disappears. Without sound. Without flash. It simply ceases to be. The message has departed. Straight toward Arcanis. Anastasia remains still for a few seconds, watching the empty space. Then she exhales slowly. “It’s done.” Leriana nods in silence. There is no relief. But there is a sense of having done what was right. Both return inside the house. And that is when they hear the voices. Not shouting. Not arguing. But murmuring. Many of them. Growing closer. Anastasia frowns slightly. “Stay here,” she says calmly. But it is already too late. The door opens before she can reach it. Three villagers enter with restrained urgency, visibly shaken. Their faces show concern, exhaustion… and fear. “Anastasia,” one of them says, breathing heavily. “We’ve found more tracks.” Silence falls immediately across the room. Leriana stands still. Anastasia steps forward slowly. “Where?” “On the northern road,” another replies. “Near the fields.” A pause. “They’re huge.” The third villager swallows before adding: “And deep.” The air grows heavier. Anastasia remains calm. She always does. “Are they moving toward the village?” The three men exchange glances. One of them shakes his head. “No.” Another pause. “But they’re circling the area.” The words bring a denser silence. More unsettling. Leriana feels a slight chill run down her spine. The monster is not fleeing. It is watching. Anastasia nods slowly. “Has anyone been hurt?” “No,” the first man replies. “But the animals are restless. The dogs haven’t stopped barking since last night.” The healer remains silent for a few seconds. Thinking. Evaluating. Then she hears soft footsteps in the hallway. Forau appears at the entrance to the room. His expression is calm, but his eyes show he has heard enough. “The wolf?” he asks quietly. The villagers turn toward him. And the atmosphere changes. Not abruptly. Not visibly. But clearly. Their expressions harden. They grow more cautious. More uncomfortable. One of the men shifts his body slightly, as if the space between them suddenly needs to be wider. Another lowers his gaze. The third stares at the dark marks visible on Forau’s skin. Fear begins to spread slowly through the room. Not toward the monster. Toward him. The silence becomes uncomfortable. Heavy. Forau notices. He always does. But he does not react. He does not get angry. He does not defend himself. He simply remains calm. “Yes,” one of the villagers finally answers. “The purple wolf.” A pause. Then he adds, in a tone trying to sound neutral: “People are worried.” The phrase seems directed at Anastasia. But the meaning is obvious. Forau understands. And he also understands what is left unsaid. That the creature appeared when he was in the forest. That the fight happened near the village. That his presence always brings trouble. The weight of those thoughts hangs in the air. Anastasia steps forward. Her voice is firm. Protective. “The monster is a threat to everyone,” she says clearly. “Not to one person.” The villagers do not respond. But neither do they argue. Silence settles again. And in that silence, invisible blame begins to take shape. Not because Forau has done anything wrong. But because fear needs a face. And his is the easiest to point at. Forau watches the men for a few seconds longer. Then he exhales slowly. “Stay away from the forest,” he says calmly. “Especially after nightfall.” His tone is not commanding. It is practical. Protective. The villagers nod. One by one. Without arguing. Without meeting his eyes for long. Then they leave. The door closes. Silence returns to the house. Heavier than before. More real. Anastasia remains still. Leriana too. Forau keeps looking at the door for a few seconds. Then he lets out a small breath. “Well,” he says with a faint, tired smile, “at least this time I didn’t blow anything up.” The comment breaks the tension just enough. Enough. But not completely. Because somewhere beyond the village, the tracks of the purple wolf still mark the earth. And every step it leaves behind… brings fear a little closer to Jores.