Dense woods, fading over the horizon, encircled the village of Oakwood. Scattered across the fields and gardens, small dwellings stood alongside their outbuildings. Narrow paths, meandering unpredictably, wove between the houses. Farmers worked the land at some distance, their horses pulling ploughs through the rich, dark soil, while cows and sheep grazed contentedly in the verdant fields.

Manoeuvring among animal droppings, the group followed Ciaran to his home. Elizabeth tried to step carefully, but Dan was less attentive. Within moments, he wiped his boot on the grass with a look of disgust, muttering curses under his breath.

When they passed a vast lake, Elizabeth stopped to watch for a moment, gazing in admiration. Its far shore appeared as a faint blue line punctuated by jagged mountain peaks. Nearby, worn-out boats lay beside drying nets, all set against a backdrop of trees where rustling reeds swayed in the wind.

Soon, they arrived at a simple house with freshly whitewashed walls and a tiled roof covered with emerald moss. A modest garden in full bloom surrounded the house, brimming with fragrant herbs and vibrant spring flowers.

Ciaran showed William a ramshackle barn where they could leave their horses. While William unsaddled the animals, Ciaran approached the house and knocked on the door. There was a moment of anticipation before it creaked open, revealing an elderly woman. Her light-blue eyes, striking against her grey strands, widened upon seeing the strangers. But when she recognised her husband, her expression shifted to one of concern and relief. "Ciaran! I feared I would never see you again!"

"I went astray, Mairéad," the old man replied. "These people helped me find my way home."

Ciaran's wife looked at the newcomers for a moment, then a broad smile spread across her face, and she welcomed her guests in. She promised them fresh clothes, a hot bath, and a hearty meal by the hearth.

As they stepped inside, the aroma of a home-cooked meal wafted through the air. The interior was modest yet clean, with simple wooden furniture and handmade decorations. Handwoven tapestries and dried flowers hung on the walls, making the room cosier. A large, crackling hearth dominated one corner, casting a soft, flickering glow that filled the space.

In one room, Mairéad had prepared a small bathing area. It had a wooden tub filled with hot water and fragrant soaps, offering them a much-needed rest from their journey. Fresh clothes were on a nearby chair, ready for the travellers to change into.

A sense of comfort and safety enveloped Elizabeth within the walls of Ciaran and Mairéad's home. The warmth of the hearth and the simple meal that awaited them showed the kindness and hospitality of the old couple.

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Elizabeth, dressed in a comfortable dress, sat at the table in the main room. She relished a sense of cleanliness after taking a hot bath. Dan sat beside her while Mairéad served the table. Elizabeth's mouth watered at the sight of the dishes. The meal was simple, but it was a big improvement over the dry food from their supplies.

She looked around, studying the interior until her eyes settled on William, who was removing his shirt in a discreet corner. Her gaze lingered on his strong, well-built physique, and it was impossible to look away. She knew she should, but she continued to stare at his bare torso. When their eyes met momentarily, a rush of embarrassment sparked within her.

William's gaze was intense but cautious before he masked it with an indifferent expression. He glanced down, pretending to be occupied with folding his shirt. In that instant, she turned away, her cheeks burning.

But what remained in her mind were William's numerous scars. These scars silently narrated a life marked by danger and strife. Despite her initial confusion and the fact that William was a stranger, Elizabeth's heart clenched with profound empathy for the man. Each scar spoke of challenges he had faced and overcome. Whether from cruel battles or other ordeals, they were evidence of the pain he had endured as his wounds healed.

Finally, after William had bathed and changed into peasant clothes, everyone gathered around the hearth to share a meal.

"We're always glad to have guests." Mairéad's eyes twinkled with warmth as she looked at them. "Our children have grown up and started their own families. Sometimes, the house can feel lonely."

Intrigued, Elizabeth asked Mairéad about her children, and the elderly woman started a lively conversation about her family.

As the evening wore on, the hosts asked about the travellers' origins and the purpose of their journey. Yet William seemed hesitant to share any details. Sensing his reluctance, the couple chose not to press further and instead changed the topic to lighten the mood. As the conversation continued, Mairéad excused herself to prepare the beds, leaving the guests with her husband.

The night fell, enveloping the room in darkness. The only source of light was the fire crackling in the hearth, its warm, flickering glow casting dancing shadows across the walls. A hush had fallen over the group, each person lost in their own thoughts, preparing to retire to their rooms.

Before going to bed, Elizabeth wanted to steal a moment with the stars. They were brighter here and somewhat larger. She went towards a window with embroidered curtains—no doubt a product of Mairéad's skilled handiwork.

"Don't!" Ciaran's voice cut through the silence just as her fingers parted the fabric.

Startled, she withdrew her hand and turned to face him, eyes wide. Ciaran was already moving towards her with a swiftness that belied his age. He reached the window in a few quick strides and hastily drew the curtains closed with a shaking hand. His breath came in erratic gasps, and his eyes were alight with fear.

"Don't touch the curtains!" His voice was steadier now, but still tinged with unmistakable terror. His words hung heavy with unspoken warnings and a foreboding that left Elizabeth more puzzled than before.

"Why?" she asked in astonishment. "I just wanted to look at the stars."

"They could come..." The old man's hushed whisper was thick with dread.

Elizabeth was about to ask about the identity of 'they', but William interjected, "No use closing windows at night. It's not the light that draws them in. They can smell our living flesh."

"Bah," Ciaran grumbled. "It's an unspoken rule here. At the very least, a neighbour might shatter your window with a stone if you don't follow it."

Elizabeth gasped as a wave of realisation washed over. "Are you talking about bloodfiends?!"

At the mention, Ciaran's face twisted, reflecting the depth of his fear and superstition. "Don't mention that name in my house!" Righteous anger burnt in his gaze at that moment. "Just saying it can attract 'em!"

Dan's eyes darted between Elizabeth and the old man, confusion and irritation flickering across his face. "What the hell are bloodfiends?" he snapped, his impatience growing.

"Shh!" Ciaran shot him a sharp, lethal look.

But Elizabeth only stepped closer to Ciaran. "Who are these... creatures?" She seemed undeterred, driven by her desire to understand.

William furrowed his brow. "Elizabeth, let's discuss this later. We all need rest."

"Haven't you heard of them?" Ciaran whispered, his eyes wide as saucers.

Elizabeth shook her head.

"I thought everyone knew." The old man's voice trembled with awe and fear. "You are lucky that these monsters aren't in your lands. But wait, they'll come to your kingdom as well. No one is safe..." His words, heavy with implication, suggested a world of unknown horrors that Elizabeth and Dan had yet to encounter.

William leaned closer to Elizabeth. "You've frightened him," he murmured. "Let's talk about something else."

Though Elizabeth regretted her thoughtless question, the damage was already done. The old man invited them to sit by the hearth once again, where wood crackled and light danced across the rustic room. Ciaran's eyes widened as he began, "Sometimes, they call 'em 'shadow beasts.' They shun daylight 'cause they see poorly in it. But at dusk, these creatures start their hunt. Animals ain't enough for them—they crave human blood and flesh! Their hunt only stops at dawn, as their hunger is insatiable. And you never know where you might encounter 'em!"

Elizabeth shuddered and looked at William, but he appeared unfazed, as if he were listening to a routine conversation.

"Are these just spooky tales from around here?" Dan smirked. "Sounds like nonsense to me. I'm going to bed." He yawned, masking his unease with feigned indifference.

"You're laughing for no reason, young man!" Ciaran said, indignation on his face. "This is the pure truth!"

"It's true," William confirmed.

Dan's mocking smile persisted, but his fidgeting betrayed his fear. "Yeah, right. Sounds like a campfire story to me," he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Were they once humans?" Elizabeth recalled the conversation about William's friend.

"Yes, they were," said Ciaran.

"What happened to them?" She wanted to know more details.

"No one knows," the old man replied. "It started a month ago and has been happening more often. Sometimes, people who go into the woods return... changed. Very few have shared what happens there. But... from what I know, it doesn't happen by itself. In my daughter's village, two men went into the forest. One got bitten by a snake and turned into a monster just a few hours later. And there have been similar stories in neighbouring villages. Before turning into monsters, they encountered a snake."

"A snake?" William's interest was evident in the tone of his voice. "What kind of snake?"

"They say it was black, quite large, and its eyes burned like embers," the old man replied. "Its victims were mostly villagers, and many hide their bites to avoid instant execution." He leaned in, lowering his voice. "But after this bite, they gain extraordinary strength and ferocity. Eventually, their eyes darken to the depth of the void. In a desperate thirst for blood, these creatures attack suddenly, even their loved ones!"

"How horrible..." Elizabeth murmured, frozen in her seat, immediately regretting her curiosity about the bloodfiends.

"Their incredible strength makes 'em almost invincible," Ciaran added. "The only way to stop such a monster is to cut off its head. And since the transformation ain't immediate, anyone could be a threat without knowing it."

The old man paused, giving everyone a significant look. Dan and Elizabeth shared worried glances, but William's eyes remained fixed forward. He briefly passed his hand over his lips, a trace of irony, or perhaps disbelief, playing across his features after hearing Ciaran's words.

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