The crowd gathering barely breathed. Everyone stared at the well, the cracked stone lip dark and hollow in the center of the square. A scream had torn through the air just moments before. Now it just hung there, dragging itself across the silence like wet cloth pulled tight over a wound. Even the wind seemed to stall, like it had no interest in sticking around for what came next.
Verek's eyes swept the crowd. They looked like people wearing the wrong bodies. Fear didn't sit right on them. It clung to the jaw, pulled tight at the shoulders. Some whispered prayers that tasted old in their mouths. Most didn't say anything at all, like they were waiting for the silence to explain itself.
All except one.
She stood frozen, barely more than a girl. Couldn't have seen twenty winters yet. Satchel too big for her frame, strap wound tight around white-knuckled fingers. Her eyes weren't on the square. They stared past it, somewhere too far away to be useful.
"You were near the well, weren't you?" Verek's voice broke through the quiet. Level, no edge. Careful as a scalpel.
She flinched. Just a twitch, but enough. "Yes," she whispered. "I saw someone. A cloak."
Next to him, Ezreal's fingers flickered with that eerie glow, light rippling off the pages of his spellbook. The runes shimmered like ice catching moonlight. Beautiful, if you didn't know what they meant.
"She's lying," he said. Flat. Like he was reading the weather off a chart.
Verek didn't blink. "What color was the cloak?"
The girl hesitated. "Black... with red trim."
He tilted his head, watching her. "That's ceremonial. Not something worn to keep warm. Not something worn to hide. That's a message."
Her mouth tightened. She didn't answer.
"Tell me what you saw."
Their eyes locked. What lived in hers wasn't fear now. It was sharper. Hungrier.
And then her skin split like paper soaked through.
Bone shifted, joints bending where they shouldn't. Her eyes went yellow and soured. Her mouth tore open wide, full of splintered things that weren't teeth anymore.
The girl was gone. A hag stood in her place, hunched and heaving.
"You bastards," she rasped. Her voice dragged over stone. "You reek of hope."
Verek didn't move. His staff was already lit.
"We've got company!"
She lunged.
Caylen hit the ground rolling, lute tossed aside like old laundry. His blades sang out with practiced ease. Dax slammed into her head-on, every swing of his weapon slow and full of purpose. Ezreal fired off a ward that caught her claws with a shriek of light and sparks.
"I'll wear your skin like a lullaby!" the hag howled, teeth rattling like loose nails in a jar.
Caylen dipped in low, steel catching under her ribs. Sour green blood splashed out. Dax followed fast, sword driving deep. Verek hurled a fiery bolt that split the air, but she twisted away and bolted, bones popping as she vanished into the trees.
"Don't let her get away!" Dax shouted, already sprinting.
The crowd gasped. That was all. The fight was already past them.
The woods swallowed them whole.
Everything shifted the moment they crossed the tree line. The ground turned soft, spongy. Moss muffled each step. The air got thick and heavy, like they were walking into something's chest. The trees leaned in too far. Roots snaked across the trail, curling slow like they were thinking about grabbing something.
"She's using the forest," Verek muttered. "This place answers her. Follows her lead."
Mist slid between the trunks, damp and cold, full of that ancient smell that clung to stone tombs and forgotten names.
"Help me!"
The scream cut through, raw and panicked.
They stopped.
"Please! It hurts!"
The voice echoed from every direction.
"This way!" Caylen was already moving left.
"No, this way!" Dax called, breaking right.
Ezreal spun, breath quickening. "They're everywhere."
"Stop!" Verek's shout cut clean through the chaos.
Everyone froze.
"They're using our ears against us. None of it's real. It's a trick."
The forest didn't wait.
A spell shot out from the brush, pale green and flickering like sick fire. Ezreal dropped. It hit a tree behind him, and thick black sap oozed down the bark like blood with secrets.
Three hags stepped out.
One moved along the trunks like smoke. Another stretched tall, limbs too long, mouth foaming. The third sang. The sound was wrong, folding in on itself halfway through every note.
Ezreal collapsed to one knee. His face turned gray.
"Caylen!"
Dax slammed a hand into the bard's back. A pulse of force jolted through. Caylen gasped, eyes snapping clear.
The song stopped. The singer hissed and melted into the mist.
Another hag slashed Ezreal across the shoulder. Poison hissed into the wound.
Ezreal grimaced, slapping a glowing hand against it. Light flared, pushed back the rot.
Verek raised his staff, muttering fast. "Ignore the sounds. They want you listening."
He pointed. Light exploded from his staff's tip, cold and white, like dawn breaking through a winter field. The hags recoiled, howling.
"You don't belong here," one snarled.
"You were born to fail," spat another.
They charged.
Caylen took a blow. Blood darkened his coat. Verek stiffened as a spell caught him—his limbs iced over, joints aching like old wounds.
Then Thimblewick moved.
The little beast shot from Verek's robe. Matted fur, gleaming eyes, teeth like crooked sewing needles. He bit Verek's wrist. Pain ripped through, snapping the spell's grip.
"Thanks," Verek muttered.
He pointed skyward. Voice cracked open.
Lightning answered.
It slammed down, forked and wild. Two hags lit up and dropped, their screams cut short.
Ezreal reached Caylen, pouring magic into the bard's side. Caylen stood, blades back in hand. He lunged. Steel sank in deep. One hag fell, twitching.
Dax was already swinging, fists driving bone. One last shot cracked a hag's jaw sideways. She folded.
Another ran.
"I see her," Verek said.
Magic spat from his staff. Three darts. One after another. The last one took her down.
One tried the fog.
Thimblewick reappeared. His eyes caught the light and threw it wrong. His shadow stretched long and sharp.
The hag hesitated.
Too long.
Caylen and Dax hit at the same time. Steel from both sides. Her cry barely made it past the trees.
Then came a sound that cut deeper.
A child's voice. High. Wet. Real.
They ran.
The woods opened. A river ran through, fast and mean. In the center, a small figure flailed.
"No!" Verek threw his robe aside and moved.
But Caylen didn't wait. He was already gone. The child surfaced. They made eye contact.
That was all he needed.
He jumped.
"Hold on!" he called.
The river pulled him under.
The forest held its breath.