The first sign came from a Freehold farmer named Doren.
He had been a quiet man, content with his crops and his family. But one morning, his wife found him standing in the field at dawn, staring at the sky. His eyes were empty. His mouth moved without sound.
By noon, he had attacked three neighbors. Not with rage. With something worse. A cold, mechanical precision that made his wife's blood run cold.
"He wasn't himself," she told Lena. "It was like something was wearing him."
Lena felt the familiar chill of recognition. "The hunger?"
"No. Not the hunger. Something else. Something that's been here all along."
---
The council convened in the longhouse.
Mira's face was stone. "Doren is sedated. The healers can't find anything wrong with his mind. But his behavior is... unnatural."
Am
