It was still midday, but the clouds had started gathering in the sky that was clear just a few minutes ago and the wind had started picking pace.

The grounds between Hillford and Lowmere were alive with movement once again, ropes pulled taut, poles adjusted, markings redrawn where needed. The earlier awkwardness between the two villages had not disappeared, but it had settled into something manageable, something that no longer threatened to break apart at every misstep.

Eric knelt near one of the marked lanes, adjusting the boundary line with careful precision as Lysanne stood beside him, holding the measuring cord steady.

"A little more to the left," he said, glancing up briefly. "If it curves inward, it’ll throw off the alignment."

Lysanne nodded, shifting her grip slightly. "Here?"

"Mm... yes, that should-"

He stopped.

Not because of the line.

But because he just saw a Lowmere youth he had sent away to get Frank Rovers had returned but instead of coming to him he had ran over to the other Lowmere people.

Eric watched as he spoke to a middle-aged farmer, his face ashy pale and the farmer’s expression grew tight and angry and slowly people started gathering around them.

The steady hum of voices in the distance had begun to thin, the scattered sounds of work giving way to something uneven, clusters of murmurs gathering too quickly in one place.

At the center of it, a young man stood, his posture tense, his voice raised, though from this distance, the words were lost to the wind.

Lysanne followed his gaze, her brows knitting slightly. "What’s going on?"

Eric didn’t answer immediately as he just watched.

The young man spoke again, sharper this time, his hands moving as if trying to force the words into the others. One by one, more people began to gather around him, faces tightening, expressions shifting from confusion to something darker.

Anger.

Eric’s fingers stilled against the rope.

"...That’s not good," he murmured under his breath.

The shift spread quickly.

What had been scattered work now slowed, then halted entirely as more of Lowmere’s people turned toward the growing cluster. Voices rose, still indistinct from where he stood, but no longer calm. The kind of sound that didn’t belong to discussion.

Lysanne straightened slightly, unease settling into her expression. "Should we-"

Footsteps approached from behind, Eric didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

Drac came to a stop beside them, his presence cutting cleanly through the moment. His gaze was fixed on the gathering crowd, his expression unusually tense.

Eric rose to his feet immediately.

"What are they talking about?" He asked.

Drac didn’t look at him right away as he seemed to listen, Lysanne frowned a little thinking how could Drac listen to the conversation happening at that distance but only after listening for a couple of seconds Drac turned to Eric.

"They know," he said.

Eric’s posture stilled. For a brief moment, the sounds in the distance seemed to fade entirely, as if his mind had chosen silence over what it already understood.

"...Know what?" Lysanne asked, her voice uncertain as she glanced between them.

Drac’s jaw tightened slightly before he answered.

"The channels... They know Hillford dug them."

The words settled.

And this time, there was no mistaking the change.

Eric’s expression did not shift dramatically, but something in his gaze sharpened, the calm ease from moments before giving way to something more alert, more focused.

He turned back toward the crowd.

Now he could see it clearly.

The cluster had grown larger, too large for simple confusion. The young man at the center was still speaking, but now others had begun to respond. Hands moved. Voices rose. A few had already begun to step away, not dispersing, but moving with purpose.

Toward the other side of the grounds where Hillford people were.

Lysanne’s breath hitched slightly. "Wait... what channels?"

But neither of them answered her.

Eric’s eyes tracked the movement, watching as what had once been a gathering began to turn into something else entirely.

"...It spread faster than I thought," he said quietly.

Drac finally looked at him. "What do we do?"

For a fraction of a second, Eric didn’t respond.

Not because he didn’t have an answer.

But because he knew whatever came next would not be something he could quietly guide from the sidelines.

The fragile balance he had been holding together had just slipped.

Eric exhaled slowly, his gaze steadying as he straightened.

"Let’s go."

Eric moved quickly across the grounds, Drac falling into step beside him, Lysanne a pace behind despite the uncertainty written across her face. The air had shifted in the span of moments, what had once been filled with the steady rhythm of work now carried something uneven, something sharp that pressed against the senses.

By the time they reached the center, the divide had already formed.

Lowmere’s people stood gathered in a dense cluster, their voices no longer restrained, anger rising unchecked as words spilled over one another. Across from them, Hillford had drawn together as well, less vocal, but no less tense, their stances rigid, their expressions guarded as they faced what was coming.

And between them, barely enough space remained to breathe.

"You think we wouldn’t find out?" One of the Lowmere men shouted, his voice cutting through the noise.

"So that’s why the river dried!" Another followed, stepping forward. "You were taking it all along!"

The accusation landed hard, rippling through the crowd.

Hillford stirred immediately.

"That’s not-"

"We did what we had to!" Someone snapped, the words coming faster now, sharper, as if forced out before they could be buried again.

"You call that fair?" A Lowmere youth stepped forward, his hands clenched at his sides. "We were watching our fields die while you-"

"We were surviving!" A Hillford farmer cut in, his voice rising to meet the accusation. "Just like you would have!"

"That doesn’t make it right!"

"It kept us alive!"

The voices collided, building over one another, each word dragging something older with it was frustration, resentment, the weight of months that had never truly been spoken aloud. What had been held back during the past few days now surged forward all at once, raw and unfiltered.

A few stepped closer.

Then a few more.

The space between the two groups narrowed further, tension coiling tight in the air as if it only needed the smallest push to snap.

Eric slowed.

Not because he hesitated, but because he saw it clearly now.

This wasn’t an argument.

It was the moment before something broke.

He stepped forward anyway.

Straight into the space between them.

"Enough."

The word wasn’t loud. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

But it carried.

It cut across the rising noise, not silencing it entirely, but forcing just enough of a pause for attention to shift.

Some turned.

Others didn’t.

But the momentum faltered.

Eric’s gaze moved across both sides, steady, unreadable as he placed himself firmly between them, not in front of Lowmere, not with Hillford, but directly between the two.

"This isn’t the place for this," he said, his voice calm despite the tension pressing in from all sides.

"Then where is it?" Someone shot back immediately. "When we’ve been wronged for months?"

Murmurs surged behind the voice, louder now, sharper.

"They took our water!" Another called out.

"They should be punished!"

The word spread quickly.

"Yes, punish them!"

It echoed, picked up by others, gaining weight with each repetition.

And just like that, the argument shifted.

No longer just between the two villages.

But toward him.

The word lingered in the air, gaining weight with every voice that picked it up.

Punished.

It was no longer a demand thrown at Hillford alone.

It turned.

Toward him.

"You’re the one in charge now, aren’t you?" A man from Lowmere called out, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "Then do something about it!"

Others followed immediately.

"Give them a punishment!"

"They let us suffer!"

"Make them answer for it!"

The crowd pressed forward, not enough to close the distance, but enough for the tension to tighten, to focus. The anger that had been scattered moments ago now found direction, gathering like a storm that had finally chosen where to break.

Eric didn’t move.

He could feel it, the expectation, the weight of their words, the sharp edge of something that demanded an answer he could not simply give.

Because they weren’t wrong.

That was the problem.

His silence stretched for a fraction too long and the panicked Hillford farmers turned to Eric.

"Your Highness, please say something! You told us it was fine for them to be open for some more time, right?"

"Yes, please, stand on our side!"

The Lowmere people got another shock hearing this and they all turned to Eric with the gazes of hurt and betrayal.

Eric felt the sense of immense guilty come over him as they all looked at him.

"So that’s it?" Someone scoffed. "You knew?"

The question wasn’t loud, but it spread faster than the shouting had.

"You knew about this?" Another voice pressed.

The air tightened further.

Eric’s gaze remained steady, but he did not answer immediately and that hesitation was enough.

Murmurs rose again, quieter this time, but far more dangerous.

Before the people could start shouting at Eric, another voice cut through the growing unrest.

"That is enough."

Earl Castermere stepped forward, his presence firm, composed, carrying the weight of authority that did not need to raise itself to be heard. His gaze swept across the crowd, sharp and controlled.

"You stand here, after days of working side by side," he said, his tone measured, "and would throw it all away over something that is already being corrected?"

A ripple passed through the people, less explosive, but no less tense.

"Corrected?" Someone repeated, incredulous. "We suffered for months!"

"And now the river flows again," the Earl replied, his voice hardening slightly. "Would you rather return to what it was before?"

"That doesn’t change what happened!"

"It doesn’t erase what they did!"

"They took from us!"

The voices rose again, louder, more insistent, pushing back against reason, against restraint, against anything that asked them to let go.

"We don’t want peace like this!" A man shouted, stepping forward. "Not if it means we just forget everything!"

"We want justice!"

"They should pay for it!"

"And what happens next time?" Another voice added, sharper, more cutting than the rest. "Do we just trust them again?"

That question struck deeper than the others.

Because no one had an answer.

Not one that would satisfy them.

The Earl’s jaw tightened, but even his authority faltered against the tide of it. Logic pressed forward, but it had no place to land.

The crowd wasn’t listening anymore.

"It was all a waste!"

"Peace was never an option anyways!"

"Let’s go!"

The people from Lowmere started leaving the venue while cursing under their breaths while Hillford people lingered behind looking at Eric who seemed to have frozen in his place.

After a few minutes, even Hillford people started leaving while giving remorseful looks over their shoulders.

The fragile balance that Eric had managed to create had shattered.