NOVEL WEB Chapter 5: Ch 4
Chapter 4: Motives and Plays
Tara stood at the doorway of the modest guesthouse, her sharp green eyes lingering on Aria's retreating figure. The warmth of the stone walls and the coziness of the surroundings did little to soothe the unease thrumming in her chest. Aria had been a whirlwind of generosity and charm, weaving Tara into the village's fabric with a precision that was almost unnatural.
Grateful? Certainly.
Unsettled? Absolutely.
Tara's instincts, honed in a future filled with treachery and survival, whispered caution. Aria's cheerfulness felt genuine, but was it? Or was it the type of sincerity that hid daggers beneath velvet smiles?
As the figure of the bubbly woman disappeared beyond the trees at the village's edge, Tara's fingers flexed. She exhaled softly, her breath carrying an invisible current of wind. The air whispered its secrets to her, swirling through the village, seeking its target.
Aria's footsteps were light, deliberate, leading her uphill toward the woods. But she wasn't alone. A second presence joined her, the voices too faint to decipher yet laced with familiarity. The wind's gentle caress painted a picture of hushed conversation and concealed intentions. Tara frowned, pulling the breeze back to herself.
Her stomach churned. Was Aria's kindness a ruse? Or was there another layer to this village that she had yet to uncover? Tara's trust was a currency she couldn't afford to spend, not here, not now.
---
When Aria returned later that evening, her radiant demeanor filled the guesthouse like sunlight through stained glass.
"Tara!" she called, her voice a melody of excitement. "You've been cooped up all day! Come join the harvest festival—it's the highlight of the season. Food, music, dancing—everything you need to lift your spirits. You'll love it!"
Tara hesitated. The thought of mingling with strangers sent a ripple of discomfort through her. She wasn't ready to let her guard down, not in a place where she stood out like a lone flame in the dark. But Aria's enthusiasm was contagious, her eyes sparkling with an almost childlike delight. Against her better judgment, Tara found herself nodding.
"Just for tonight," she murmured to herself, her lips barely moving. She'd indulge her curiosity, but she'd keep her defenses firmly in place.
---
The village square was a scene pulled from a dream. Lanterns glowed softly overhead, their warm light casting a golden hue over the bustling crowd. Stalls overflowed with ripe fruits, vibrant fabrics, and steaming delicacies. The air was thick with laughter, the rhythmic beats of drums weaving through the chatter.
Tara followed Aria, her movements cautious, her gaze sweeping over the festivities. Villagers greeted Aria with open arms and familiar smiles, offering her food and trinkets with an ease that spoke of deep bonds.
"Aria!" A vendor called out, holding up a basket of golden apples. "Here, these are for you!"
Aria grinned, twirling as she accepted the gift. "You spoil me! How will I ever repay your kindness?"
Tara trailed behind, her presence unnoticed by most but not all. She felt the weight of curious gazes flitting toward her, whispers brushing against her senses like phantom touches. Her pink hair and unfamiliar attire marked her as an outsider.
When they reached the center of the square, Tara stopped. The sight of long tables laden with food, dancers twirling to the music, and children chasing each other through the crowd was overwhelming. It was a celebration of life, pure and unfiltered, but to Tara, it felt like an intricate web.
"Go on," Aria urged, nudging her forward. "Enjoy yourself!"
Tara offered a small nod, her lips pressed into a thin line. She drifted to the edges of the gathering, blending into the shadows of a nearby stall. Her hands brushed against the fabric of her borrowed sari, her fingers tightening around the material.
She flexed her fingers discreetly, summoning a faint breeze. The wind carried the conversations of the villagers, their words a mosaic of laughter, gossip, and harmless chatter. But beneath the surface, there was something else—a note of vigilance.
"Tara."
The voice was soft yet sharp, cutting through the ambient noise like a blade. Tara turned her head, her green eyes locking onto a man who had approached her without warning.
"You're not from here, are you?" he asked, his tone casual but his gaze piercing.
Tara's heart skipped a beat. She lowered her gaze, feigning nervousness. Raising her hands, she gestured in silence, playing the part of a mute traveler lost in an unfamiliar land.
The man frowned, his scrutiny unrelenting. He leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin. "I've seen you before. You can't hide forever."
Before Tara could react, a voice cut through the tension.
"Leave her be."
Aria's presence was sudden and commanding. She stepped between Tara and the man, her cheerful demeanor replaced by a quiet intensity. "She's a guest, and she's under my care. I'd appreciate it if you respected that."
The man hesitated, his jaw tightening before he stepped back. Aria's gaze lingered on him until he disappeared into the crowd.
"Thank you," Tara murmured, her voice barely audible.
Aria smiled, her warmth returning. "Don't let him ruin your night. Come, there's still so much to see!"
---
But Tara couldn't shake the unease that had settled in her chest. As the night wore on, she stayed on the periphery, her senses sharp, her mind churning. The wind was her constant companion, whispering secrets she couldn't ignore.
Some villagers avoided her entirely. Others observed her with thinly veiled suspicion. And Aria—bright, bubbly Aria—seemed to hold the village in the palm of her hand.
From the shadows of a distant alley, a pair of eyes watched her intently. Samudra leaned against the cool stone wall, his lips curling into a smirk. The game had begun, and Tara was playing her part beautifully.