Chapter 3: The Gathering Storm

The dark clouds gathered on the horizon, casting a foreboding shadow over the small village of Brindlemark. Makwcit, a young apprentice to the village elder, stood at the edge of the village, her eyes fixed on the approaching storm. The wind whipped through her long, dark hair, and she shivered, despite the warmth of the summer evening. As she gazed out at the storm, Makwcit felt a sense of unease growing within her. She had always been sensitive to the moods of the natural world, and this storm seemed to be building in power and intensity by the minute. The villagers, too, seemed to sense the approaching turmoil, and they scurried about, securing loose items and preparing for the worst. Makwcit's thoughts turned to her mentor, the village elder, Thorne. He had been acting strangely of late, muttering to himself and seeming increasingly distant. She wondered if he was aware of the growing storm, not just the one in the skies, but the one that seemed to be brewing within the village itself. As she turned to make her way back to the village, Makwcit spotted a figure emerging from the trees. It was a traveler, dressed in worn and dusty robes, and carrying a large pack on his back. He looked up, catching her eye, and Makwcit felt a jolt of surprise. There was something about the traveler that seemed...familiar. As the traveler drew closer, Makwcit saw that it was a young man, with piercing blue eyes and a mop of unruly blond hair. He smiled wearily, and Makwcit felt her heart skip a beat. "Greetings," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I'm Eryndor Thorne, from the city of Willowhaven. I've been traveling for days, and I saw the lights of your village. I was hoping to find shelter for the night." Makwcit's eyes widened as she realized that the traveler's last name was the same as her mentor's. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she wondered if this was more than just a coincidence. "You're welcome to shelter," she said, trying to sound calm. "But be warned, the storm is approaching quickly. We'll need to get you settled in before it hits." Eryndor nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "Thank you, I appreciate it. I'm famished. Do you think I could get some food and drink?" Makwcit nodded, and led Eryndor towards the village. As they walked, she couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the night might bring. The storm was gathering, and she had a feeling that it was going to change everything.