The Elder's Warning
The werewolf's voice, just saying my name – Elara – was scarier than any growl.
It broke everything I thought I knew.
The villagers said they were just dumb beasts.
But how could a monster know my name?
And the small, clicking creature next to it, with the same strange shiny eyes, made the mystery even bigger.
I felt like I was caught in something old and unknown.
The hunter was really scared.
He fell backward over a tree root. His eyes stayed on the werewolf and its friend.
He couldn't breathe well.
He wasn't a threat anymore; he was just something to be afraid of.
I was so scared I couldn't move.
It was different from when I was trying to get out of the net.
The net held me tight like I was a helpless gift for this strange, quiet family from the Blackwood.
Inside, I was trying to understand what was happening.
It was so different from the village's fear and my own wanting to know things.
These weren't just monsters; they seemed smart, and they seemed to care about each other
The scary thing from the forest had a face now, and it knew my name.
Then, I heard a voice I knew.
It sounded worried and a little bit angry.
"Elara? What in the world is going on here?"
My heart jumped hard.
Standing at the edge of the small open space was Old Man Hemlock.
His old face looked worried.
His eyes, usually cloudy, looked very clear as he saw everything: the scared hunter on the ground, the two strange creatures, and me, stuck in the net.
The village's fear had come, not as quiet stories, but as the voice everyone respected most.
The werewolf's shiny eyes looked at Old Man Hemlock.
I couldn't tell what it was thinking – did it know him? Was it warning him?
The clicking creature next to it got ready to fight, its sharp claws coming out a little.
It felt tense.
Old Man Hemlock took a slow step forward, still looking at the werewolf.
"Stay back," he said.
His voice was strong for an old man.
"She's just a girl. She won't hurt you."
Inside me, I really wanted them to understand.
I wasn't just a girl lost in the woods; I had been trying to learn, but now I felt silly for being so curious.
But Old Man Hemlock being there felt a little safe, like seeing someone I knew in a scary place.
The hunter on the ground made a whimpering sound, trying to stand up.
"It's… it's the beast, Hemlock! The one from the stories!"
Old Man Hemlock didn't even look at him.
He kept looking at the werewolf.
"The stories are just stories, Thomas.
They come from being scared and not knowing things."
The wisdom of someone old was standing against the fear of something unknown.
The werewolf tilted its head a little, its smart eyes looking at Old Man Hemlock.
There was a quiet moment like they were talking without words.
The clicking creature stayed ready to fight, looking from Old Man Hemlock to me.
"You know them?" I asked quickly, my voice still shaking a little.
Old Man Hemlock finally looked at me.
He looked worried but also… very tired.
"I know of them, Elara. Enough to know that being scared will just make things worse."
His words were the opposite of what everyone in the village believed.
It was a big surprise that made me not believe my ears.
If Old Man Hemlock knew about these creatures, why was the village so scared?
What secrets had he kept?
The hunter finally stood up, his face white and dirty.
"But… the attacks! The people who disappeared!"
Old Man Hemlock sighed, looking a little sad as he looked at the scared hunter.
"Sometimes, Thomas, the scary things we see are just our own fears."
The truth about the Blackwood was like a mess of roots, much more complicated than just the simple fear the village felt.
The werewolf took another step towards me, its shiny eyes still looking at mine.
But this time, it didn't feel dangerous, just that strange strong look, that feeling like it knew me.
"Let her go," Old Man Hemlock said.
His voice was strong but calm. "She is not your enemy."
The werewolf stopped for a long moment, looking from Old Man Hemlock to me like it was thinking about his words.
The clicking creature next to it made a soft, fast-clicking sound and nudged the bigger werewolf with its head.
Inside me, I felt confused but also a little hopeful.
Could Old Man Hemlock really understand these creatures?
Could he help the village stop being so scared of the Blackwood?
Slowly, carefully, the werewolf reached out a big, furry hand.
Its claws went back in. It gently touched the net holding me.
Then, it moved quickly and broke the thick net, letting me go.
I almost fell, my legs weak.
Old Man Hemlock held me up with his strong arm.
The werewolf and its friend watched us, their shiny eyes still looking hard, but not scary anymore.
The hunter just stared, his mouth open.
He was so scared before, but now he just looked confused.
"But… but they're monsters!"
Old Man Hemlock shook his head sadly.
"They are creatures of this forest, Thomas, just like we are creatures of this land.
We have lived near each other for many years, but fear has kept us apart."
The wall of fear that kept the village away from the Blackwood was starting to break down.
It showed a story that was much more complicated than anyone knew.
His words hung in the air, a big surprise that changed everything Oakhaven believed.
Many years? Living near each other? It was a twist that changed the whole reason for our village's fear.
The werewolf took a step closer to Old Man Hemlock, and then it did something that made me stop breathing for a second.
It lowered its head a little like it was showing respect.
Old Man Hemlock nodded slowly back like they understood each other without talking.
It was something I couldn't explain, a look into a secret relationship that had been hidden for a long time.
The clicking creature made a soft, fast sound and nudged the werewolf again, looking at the sun going down.
The werewolf seemed to understand.
It looked back at me, its shiny eyes looking both hard and… like it was saying goodbye.
Then, quickly and quietly, the werewolf and its clicking friend turned and went back into the dark shadows of the Blackwood.
Old Man Hemlock, the scared hunter, and I were left in the suddenly quiet open space.
The weight of a hidden story felt heavy in the air.
Old Man Hemlock turned to me, his old face looking serious.
"Elara," he said quietly and quickly.
"You have seen more than you should have. And now… the old ways might not be enough to keep things calm.
Things have changed.
And you, child, are now part of it."
He put his hand in his pocket and gave me a small piece of wood with a lot of carvings on it. He pressed it into my hand.
"Keep this safe.
It might be the only thing that stops our world and theirs… and something much older, and much more dangerous, that's sleeping under the Blackwood."