That night, long after Liam had been tucked in, a low thrumming sound drifted through Tharn's Hollow. It was subtle at first, like the distant drone of bees. Liam stirred in his sleep as the family's old hound, resting by the door, lifted its head with a soft whine. The animals sensed it—horses shifted in their stables and chickens rustled uneasily on their roosts. The strange hum faded after a few minutes, leaving the village in silence once more.
Liam woke before sunrise, not entirely sure what had disturbed his dreams. In the gray pre-dawn light, he found his father standing on the porch, gazing toward the woods. "Pa? What's wrong?" Liam asked, voice groggy.
His father kept his eyes on the tree line. "Probably nothing," he replied, though his tone was uncertain. "Thought I heard something odd in the night." He noticed Liam's puzzled look and forced a smile. "Maybe an earthquake far off, or thunder. Don't worry."
When morning came proper, the village buzzed with quiet discussion. Over breakfast, Liam listened as his parents talked in low voices. Apparently, several villagers had heard the strange sound during the night. Old Mara, the herbalist, claimed the ancient stone monument in the woods had been humming. A few hunters went to inspect it at first light but reported nothing unusual—just cold stone and morning mist.
Still, an undercurrent of unease ran through the normally cheerful village that day. Liam felt it in the way adults paused to talk in hushed tones, and in how the usual laughter of the marketplace was subdued. He met Tomlin near the well, where a small crowd had gathered to discuss the mystery.
"My ma said she felt the ground vibrate," Tomlin whispered to Liam, eyes wide. "She thinks something's happening with the old magic in the ruins."
Liam swallowed a spoonful of worry along with his excitement. Part of him was nervous, but part of him couldn't help feeling a thrill—real magic in Tharn's Hollow? It was the sort of adventure he had only imagined. Still, seeing the furrowed brows of the village elders, he kept those feelings to himself.
By afternoon, life carried on mostly as normal. Children still played tag near the oak tree, and farmers tended their crops, though many cast wary glances toward the forest. Liam spent the day helping his father mend a section of wooden fence on their property. They worked in relative quiet, each absorbed in thought. At one point, Liam's father straightened and wiped his brow. "If anything ever feels off, you come straight home, alright son?" he said suddenly.
Liam paused, holding a nail in one hand and a hammer in the other. "I will," he promised. He hesitated before asking, "Do you think the monument really hummed, Pa? What if it's something bad?"
His father's face was thoughtful as he knelt down to Liam's level. "I don't know," he admitted. "These ruins have been here for ages without trouble. But sometimes the world has secrets, even in a peaceful place like ours." He put a reassuring hand on Liam's shoulder. "No matter what, we'll keep each other safe. Our village looks after its own."
Liam nodded and tried to smile. He helped pack up the tools, comforted by his father's steady presence.
That evening, a traveling merchant arrived in Tharn's Hollow with his horse-drawn cart, bringing tools, fabrics, and a handful of news from distant towns. As villagers browsed his wares in the twilight, some asked if he had experienced odd tremors or sounds on the road. The merchant scratched his head. "Can't say I have," he replied. "Though…" He lowered his voice. "There've been rumors further west of animals fleeing their forests. Hunters found whole stretches of woods empty, as if all the critters just up and ran off. Might be nothing, but folks were spooked."
This news only deepened the unease. Neighbors exchanged worried glances as the crowd dispersed for the night. Liam clutched his mother's hand on the walk home, imagining forests with no birds or deer—a silent wilderness.
Before bed, he peered out his window toward the dark silhouette of the woods. In the stillness, his ears strained for any hint of that humming sound. All he heard was the sigh of the night breeze and the distant call of an owl. Yet the quiet itself felt heavy, expectant.
Liam slid under his blanket, his heart fluttering with uncertainty. Tharn's Hollow was still peaceful, but something unseen was on the move, brushing against their small world like the first ripple of a coming storm. In the darkness, he whispered a promise to himself: whatever came, he would be brave.