The thunderous clap from the townsfolk broke the intimacy between Aralyn and Noah, making them look away.
Standing at the far end of the long table with his back facing Sentinel was Mayor Grayson Fletcher. Tonight, he wore a simple cream linen shirt tucked into dark trousers, but a deep green sash embroidered with gold leaves draped across his chest, giving him just enough festivity. A crown of woven leaves sat slightly crooked on his head.
"Welcome to our annual Full Tree Festival, people!" he boomed. "It is the day we honor the ancestors for saving our great and mighty tree, Sentinel."
He turned, gesturing toward the ancient oak, its massive branches stretching wide under the lantern lights, before facing the crowd again.
"For it is to them that our gratitude must be given. Year after year, we gather not just to celebrate, but to remember. To remember the roots that hold us, the hands that built us, and the lives that came before ours."
The mayor reached for a goblet from the table and lifted it high. "Please, take any drink from the table."
Everyone followed suit.
From afar, Aralyn could see Mrs. Collin distributing juice boxes to the children behind her, taking one for herself as well. Aralyn assumed they were her grandchildren. Among them was Patrick, smiling as he held the juice box close to his chest.
'Nana said you lived alone.'
Aralyn recalled what the little boy had said when they first met. Could it be that was his grandmother?
Noah took two from the table and handed one to her.
"A toast," the mayor declared, raising his goblet higher. "To our ancestors. A toast to Sentinel. A toast..."
"To the moon," the crowd echoed in unison, including Noah.
They all began to drink.
Before the juice in the straw could reach his mouth, Aralyn grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"What's the matter?" he asked, confused, but Aralyn only shook her head.
"Please don't drink it," she said.
"You didn't stop me from drinking it earlier. Why stop me now?"
Aralyn glanced around. Goosebumps rose all over her skin. Everyone drank until the very last drop. When she turned back toward Noah, he had already emptied his juice box.
"I told you not to drink it!" she whispered harshly.
"Relax, Scarf, it's just a drink," he replied nonchalantly. Before she could respond, a familiar voice came rushing toward them.
"Aralyn! You made it!"
Aralyn was swept off her feet and pulled into a hug that knocked the air out of her.
"Oof!"
"You look absolutely wonderful, my dear," Mrs. Collin said as she stepped back, taking another look at her.
Aralyn blushed at the compliment and looked down, offering a small smile. The uneasiness from earlier vanished the moment the old woman appeared.
"And you," Mrs. Collin turned to Noah, who immediately spun into a pose, "are such a sight for sore eyes, Brooks."
"Thank you. Thank you very much," Noah said in his best Elvis impression. "You're not so bad yourself. I take it you're a fan of Queen Summer herself. Orange has never looked this good on you."
Mrs. Collin beamed. She wore a flowing orange dress layered with soft gold fabric, like sunlight caught in motion. Tiny artificial flowers were pinned along her sleeves, and her leaf crown sat neatly atop her silver hair.
"You are so much like your father. Flirting and charm run in the family, and it's King Summer, by the way," she said fondly. "How do you enjoy the party so far, dear?"
"It's... pretty festive, I have to say. I didn't know you all would use costumes to celebrate it," Aralyn admitted, a hint of excitement slipping into her voice.
Even Noah raised a brow, surprised to hear her tone lift.
Mrs. Collin laughed warmly and slung an arm around Aralyn's shoulder.
"I knew you'd love it. We host it every year, and this year's theme is fantasy. Or anything your heart fancies."
Aralyn's eyes widened. "Oh, um. I brought the cinnamon rolls."
As expected, the old woman's eyes lit up like a hearth fire.
"Truly?"
Aralyn nodded and pointed to where she had placed them. Mrs. Collin wasted no time. She grabbed one without even bothering with a plate and took a huge bite.
Both Aralyn and Noah stared, their jaws nearly dropping. Mrs. Collin let out a delighted, almost comical hum, something between a pleased sigh and a happy little grunt.
"Mmmph! Oh, that is lovely," she said, clearly enjoying herself without a trace of restraint.
Aralyn and Noah had to press their lips together to keep from laughing.
"This is incredible, Aralyn," Mrs. Collin added, still chewing, completely unbothered.
"She's having a foodgasm," Noah whispered.
"A what?"
Mrs. Collin made the noise again, making Aralyn nodded in understanding. "Got it."
"I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to go. We will be starting soon," said Mrs. Collin again, waving them goodbye.
"Starting what?" she asked, looking at Noah.
"They call it a Blessing Ritual. A few people will be joining them around Sentinel and give their blessings for him. You'll see it," he said. "Now, we have to enjoy."
"Blessing for him? Why do they need to bless a tree? It's just a tree," said Aralyn, making a face as she gestured toward the giant oak.
Noah sighed and pulled her lightly by the shoulders.
"Don't you witc-"
The moment the word almost slipped, Aralyn's shoulders tensed. Noah quickly corrected himself.
"I mean, don't you know how to have fun? C'mon, let me show you."
For an hour or so, Noah dragged her from one game to another. Most of the townspeople hesitated at first when they saw her, their expressions tightening with uncertainty. But once Noah spoke, assuring them she would be on his team, they reluctantly agreed.
It didn't take long for that hesitation to disappear.
Aralyn was competitive. Fiercely so.
Whether it was tossing rings onto wooden pegs, racing to stack carved blocks, or a two-on-two game involving beanbags and moving targets, she played with sharp focus and surprising agility. Laughter broke out more easily with each round, and soon, people were cheering her on instead of watching her warily.
By the end of it, voices were calling out to her from every direction.
"Aralyn! Play with us!"
"No, no, with me!"
Noah only laughed, casually slipping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her away.
"Sorry, fellas. We might try the next game," he said.
Once they were out of earshot, he leaned closer and whispered, "Didn't realize you're this famous. You sure they're not lying about you never joining the festivals?"
Aralyn glanced up at him. "They're not. This is my first night, honestly."
His eyes lit up with mischief. A dimple appeared as his lips curled.
"First night of what, exactly?"
"My first night of here, that-" She stopped mid-sentence, catching his meaning. Her elbow nudged him lightly. "Pervert."
"Noah! C'mere, c'mere."
A tall, lanky man appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Noah by the arm.
"You need to try these babies."
When his arm slipped from her shoulders, the absence was immediate. Too immediate.
"I'll be right back," Noah said, glancing over his shoulder.
Aralyn nodded, but the moment he disappeared into the small crowd, the air around her shifted.
It felt wrong, colder and lonelier all at once. Quieter, even with the noise around her. She wrapped her arms around herself, annoyed at the sudden unease creeping in.
Chin up, Aralyn. This is nothing compared to those people decades ago.
But you're supposed to hate them, not indulge them.
Her gaze drifted across the clearing.
A group of women stood close together, speaking in hushed tones. One of them turned slightly, and Aralyn recognized the scar along her cheek.
Mrs. Pinnings.
The woman's eyes met hers briefly, filled with distaste, before she turned away as if Aralyn wasn't worth acknowledging. Aralyn frowned. That was when she noticed it again.
The same silver pin, fastened neatly on the upper left side of their chests.
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
"Damn, you look hot like that."
Aralyn stiffened. That voice didn't belong to Noah. Before she could react, three men closed in around her. Recognition struck instantly. They were the same ones who had catcalled her before.
Her face paled.
The smell hit her next. Alcohol, thick and sour. Their eyes lingered too long, too boldly, and something in the way they looked at her made her skin crawl. They reeked of lust. It was beginning to suffocate her. She turned, intending to leave, but one of them stepped into her path, blocking her with a crooked grin.
"Who you supposed to be? Some kind of princess?" he snickered.
"Don't touch me," she snapped when a hand brushed her shoulder.
"Aw, don't be like that," another one said, laughing under his breath. "We're just talking."
"Yeah," the first added, leaning in too close. "No need to act all high and mighty."
Aralyn stepped back, her breath hitching as they closed in again, their presence pressing in on her from all sides.
"Back off, Jack."
Relief flooded her instantly.
Noah.
He stepped in without hesitation, shoving one of them aside and placing himself firmly in front of her. Aralyn blinked, her head tilting slightly. Jack.
Where did I hear that name before?
Jack let out a low scoff, rolling his shoulders as he steadied himself.
"Relax, man," he muttered, though his tone carried an edge. "We're just having a little fun."
"Does it look like she's having fun?" Noah shot back, his voice calm but sharp.
One of the other men snickered. "You're acting like you own her."
Noah didn't even spare him a glance. His focus stayed on Jack.
"I said back off."
For a moment, the tension held. Then Jack stepped forward again, slower this time, his expression hardening. "You always gotta play hero, huh?" he said, his voice dropping. "Careful. Not everyone's impressed."
Noah didn't move.
"Good thing I'm not here to impress you."
Jack's jaw tightened. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a second, it looked like he might actually swing.
"Dude," one of his friends muttered, grabbing his arm. "Not here."
"Yeah, not worth it," the other added, pulling him back. "Festival night, remember?"
Jack shrugged them off roughly, eyes never leaving Noah. Then, slowly, his gaze slid past him to Aralyn. A sharp, lingering look.
"Stay close to your boyfriend," he said flatly. Then he turned and walked off, his friends trailing after him. The moment they disappeared into the crowd, the space around them seemed to breathe again.
Noah turned around to face her. Her breathing was heavy, and he could hear it.
"Hey, hey. You're okay. I got you," he said, reassuring her in a low tone. "I won't let you outta my sight, remember?"
When he winked, Aralyn finally let out a shaky sigh of relief and nodded a few times.
A sharp clap cut through the air.
"It's time, people!" Fletcher called from the end of the long table.
This time, Aralyn had to take a second look. She remembered seeing Fletcher old, worn with age but now... he looked different. Skin more smoother. His posture firmer, his voice stronger. Younger.
A chill ran down her spine.
Noah stayed close by her side, his arm casually slung over her shoulder, though the weight of it felt heavier than before.
Aralyn watched as a few people stepped forward, forming a circle around Sentinel.
One, two, three, four, five...
Five of them. Each held a candle. They raised them in unison, and began to chant.
"Thank you for the sun.
Thank you for the winds that bide by the moon's rule.
Thank you for the life you give us till this day."
Their voices blended together. As the chant deepened, the air shifted into something thick and charged. Like a storm waiting to break.
Aralyn's breath caught. Her eyes darted around and her heart dropped.
Fletcher.
Mrs. Pinnings.
Others she recognized. Their skin wasn't just smoother.
It was tightening. Stretching. As if something beneath it was pulling them back in time. Their wrinkles softened. Postures straightened. Eyes brightened with something unnatural. They were becoming younger.
Right in front of her.
Her gaze snapped to Mrs. Collin.
She stood just outside the circle. Aralyn's stomach twisted as she looked closer. Their expressions had gone slack. Heavy-lidded. They blinked slowly, as if fighting sleep. Some swayed gently where they stood, drinks still loosely held in their hands. Mrs. Collin looked high. A few even smiled faintly, dazed, like they were caught in a dream.
Like they didn't realize what was happening.
Aralyn's chest tightened. Her heart began to race. Noah's arm around her shoulder suddenly felt too heavy. "Noah?" she called.
He didn't respond immediately. When she turned, her stomach dropped. He swayed. His head dipped forward slightly before jerking back up. "I'm… fine," he muttered, his voice weaker, slurred at the edges.
Her breath hitched.
No, no, no...
Her gaze snapped back to the circle. That wasn't a blessing. It was something else and something so, so very wrong.
"Okay, we should go," she whispered urgently.
"What for, Scarf?" Noah murmured, his words slower now. "The Blessing Ritual just began. I want you to watch it... it's beautiful."
Beautiful?
Aralyn's grip on him tightened as she pulled him closer, letting him lean on her. Her mind raced.
The drink.
The chant.
The changes.
Everything clicked together in one terrifying thought.
"You trust me, don't you?" she asked, looking up at him, her voice steady despite the panic clawing at her chest.
She couldn't let this happen to him. Not when he had just begun to matter lately as annoying it sounded.
"For you?" Noah murmured, blinking heavily. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Always."
"Then we need to go home. Now," she said, urgency bleeding through every word.
For a moment, he didn't respond. Then slowly, his arm lifted from her shoulder. His fingers brushed her cheek, gentle despite the weakness. "Okay."
Relief hit her so hard it almost made her dizzy. "Good," she whispered.
Behind them, the chant rose.
Louder.
Sharper.
The wind picked up, rustling through Sentinel's massive branches. The lantern lights flickered violently, shadows stretching unnaturally across the ground.
For a split second, Aralyn thought she saw something move within the tree.
Watching.
Waiting.
Her grip on Noah tightened.
"Don't look back," she muttered.
Each step felt heavier than the last. As if something unseen was pulling at them. Calling them back.
Aralyn guided him to turn around, adjusting her grip as his weight sagged heavily against her. Moving quickly, she half-carried, half-dragged him out of the woods, struggling with every step to keep him upright, determined not to let his soul be siphoned away by the group of witches.