Chapter 8

Taliarrah towered over the children and stared down at them with frightening seriousness. "What happened exactly?"

The children stood there, awkwardly fiddling with their clothing under her gaze. The parents who brought them to The Tavern stood behind them. "U-umm... W-well..." one boy started.

"It's okay, lad," Marcel said with a calm smile. "Just let us know what happened. I know she's scary, but you're not in trouble."

The boy gave a hesitant smile, but his obvious nervousness didn't dissipate. "W-we were... in the woods. We'd been there since midday."

"We were playing by the stream," another added.

"I told them we shouldn't," one of the girls said.

"Where along the stream?" Taliarrah asked.

"Umm... By the tree with the face."

"Face?" she asked.

"Yeah! The face tree! We were climbing it."

Taliarrah looked at Marcel. He shrugged.

"Oh, the face tree," Lycia spoke up. "I know which tree that is. It's a tree that has a bunch of twisted knots in its trunk and looks like a face."

"That one!" the children shouted in unison.

"Where is this tree?"

"Roughly east of here, mother."

She nodded and turned back to the children. "What next?"

"We didn't know what time it was."

"Really, we didn't!"

"We didn't know 'til it started getting dark! Honest!"

"Okay, so, it started getting dark. What did you do then?"

"W-we came home as fast as we could!"

"When did your friend go missing?" Marcel asked.

"We don't know..." The faces of the children contorted in worry. A couple started crying.

"W-when we got home, he wasn't with us..." The boy started tearing up. "It was an accident... We're sorry..." His tears overpowered his composure. This set off the rest of the children into a hysterical crying fit.

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault," one of the parents hushed and consoled them, but they didn't stop.

Taliarrah walked over to two of the parents. They were trembling with anguish. "It's okay, we'll find him."

"Is Matty dead?" one of the children cried.

"What? No, no, I'm sure he's okay," Marcel said.

"We killed Matty!" shouted one girl.

The crying of all of the children intensified. Krarshe saw the mother of the missing boy finally break down and start crying. Despite his best efforts, her husband failed to hold back his own tears as well.

Marcel squatted down and hugged as many of the children as he could fit in his arms. "It's okay, Matty's okay. Taliarrah will find him, okay?"

Taliarrah looked over. "As best I can." She turned to the rest of the barroom. "We need volunteers to search for him. And as many torches and weapons as we can find. Or just whatever you could use to defend yourself, weapon or not."

Everyone stood there looking at her, dumbfounded.

"Let's go! Time's of the essence!" she shouted.

Everyone in the room sprang to action, stumbling over chairs and tables as they set out to get any equipment they could find.

"What should we do?" Lycia asked.

"Same as the rest. Go home and grab mine."

Lycia nodded.

"Karshe! You're young and spry! Go home and grab my rake!" Marcel called out, still trying to calm the children.

Krarshe followed Lycia out, knowing Marcel likely wouldn't even notice him nod. "Umm... Lycia?"

"What?" she asked curtly.

"Why all this panic? Are the woods really that dangerous?"

She stopped. "... Yes. Very much so. Especially at night." She turned to him. "Bears. Wolves. And worse... Much worse... Not everyone has your luck. How you survived out there is still unfathomable to me."

Krarshe didn't have a follow-up to that; the woods hadn't seemed bad to him, aside from the insects. "Where's this tree exactly?" he asked finally.

"Further south from that tree you were sleeping in. It's along the same stream."

"That's not that far."

"No, it's not. Now, we best hurry."

Krarshe stopped and watched her hurry away. The village was in chaos, with people running all over frantically. People were bringing out pitchforks, hoes, brooms; pretty much any old tool that could conceivably be used as a weapon. People were yelling and stumbling over themselves as they tried to make haste. Krarshe hadn't witnessed one himself, but it felt like he'd just stepped onto a battlefield with soldiers rushing to the defense of the village.

Krarshe ran back to Marcel's house and started digging through the pile of farm tools he had. He finally pulled out a rake. The old wooden handle stood about as tall as he was, a split starting part way down it, with prongs covered in reddish rust. "What does he expect to do with this? Against bears and wolves? Or worse?"

He understood Marcel's current lifestyle, but even he knew this old farm tool wouldn't, couldn't stand in for a weapon. Taliarrah's hurried words resounded in his head. ... They're never going to make it in time...

He traced the small, silver plate in his pocket and breathed deeply. I'm not like I was before. I... I'm probably scarier than anything in these woods anyway, right?

Steeling himself, he made his way around the buildings and toward the treeline. He felt the sensation as he passed through the barrier. With a glance behind him to make certain there was no one around, he took off into the woods toward the stream.

* * *

Krarshe hastily made his way to his former encampment. It hadn't felt like long, but between the time since he'd been there and the darkness, the route seemed foreign to him. The conversation with Lycia had him on high alert, so each rustling leaf, chirping bug, and call of the nocturnal beasts triggered a jolt of attention.

After nearly getting turned around numerous times, he finally found his old tree-made-bed. From there, it was a fortunately short walk to the stream and then simply following it south. He walked the base of each tree, inspecting it carefully for signs of this "face tree".

A few dozen or so trees later, he came up to a huge tree with large, burly knots covering its trunk. "It does look a bit like a face," he mused. The Face Tree towered over him; the faint shadows cast by the moonlight made it appear stern, as if glaring at him. Krarshe shifted uneasily as he beheld it, or, as it beheld him.

The leaves on the ground seemed to have been disturbed. Some had been gathered up into a tidy pile on a nearby rock. Others had just been cleared out of the area. The remnants of innocent play and frolic, now in the dead of night, felt hollow. Empty. Like something was missing.

Again, Krarshe shuddered. It reminded him of his travels, coming across abandoned campsites on the road, embers still glowing, with goods and carts all left behind. As if the travellers had fled in the night. Or...

Krarshe stopped his thoughts from progressing further. Now wasn't the time.

"I think I'm in the right spot. Hmm..." He looked around again, but couldn't see anything. He looked up. "Guess it'd be better from there."

He quickly climbed the tree, using the knots as footholds. Looking out into the forest, he concluded from his new vantage point: that it was too dark to see. Or, more specifically, see far.

"Krun, this darkness is annoying. Maybe I should use a light spell? ... No, it could attract something. Ugh..." He started climbing down.

Again on the ground, he looked for any more clues. Anything that'd help him identify where Matty could have gone. Even some ruffled leaves. Anything! No matter how he searched, there was nothing. It was as if the child had been consumed by the forest itself. It wasn't until the rustling of his footsteps ceased that he noticed.

Why is it so quiet here?

All the way here, there'd been many noises. The night in a forest was rarely silent, as evidenced by his short time sleeping there. But now, it was completely quiet. Eerily so. There were no chirping insects, no hooting of owls. Nothing. It was as if the forest had stifled it, choked it into silence. The shadow of bare branches seemed to be closing around him, reaching for him, looking to drag him into the silent night like it had Matty.

Just then, he heard a distant noise. He stopped and held his breath, listening as carefully as he could.

"Heeeeeeeelp..."

Hmm?! He continued listening.

"Heeeeeeelp..."

Sure enough, it sounded like a voice. A young girl calling for help. "That must be-!" He jumped down from the tree and started running toward the sound, further south and across the stream. "What was their name...? Oh, right! MATTY! Matty, can you hear me?!"

He kept running, following the distant cries for help.

"I'm coming, Matty! Just keep yelling!"

He could barely see, the dark of night had fully set upon the forest. Low-hanging branches caught him in the face, protruding roots tripped him again and again, but he kept running. Where was Matty? How far? Could he hear him calling out? Was he... hurt? These thoughts drove Krarshe onward, pushing through all impediments and hazards and pain.

A valley suddenly appeared before Krarshe as he tripped and tumbled down the hill. When he finally slid to a stop, he took a moment to catch his breath and check himself. Okay, I think I'm okay. He got up and pressed on. Matty must have slipped down here.

"Heeeeeeelp..."

He's close! As he charged forward, he saw a shadow up ahead. That's- Wait... Matty is a boy... But this voice... He stopped. The figure was just past the next tree in the clearing ahead. But, even in this darkness, Krarshe could tell.

This figure wasn't human.

He hid behind the tree and tried to get a better look. A chill ran down his spine. MATTY!

A small child lay on the ground, motionless. Given the similar size to the other children, Krarshe reasoned it must be the missing boy.

Looming over him was... something. Krarshe wasn't sure what, but it was unlike any beast he'd ever seen. Its furry, hulking body was resting upon its stout, powerful hind legs. In sharp contrast, its long, spindly forelegs reached forward, its three clawed fingers contracting in an alternating pattern as it reached for its prey. The lopsidedness of it gave the monster a twisted, unnatural posture. At the end of its long, craning neck was a sickly pale, almost-humanoid face; atop its head was a pair of scraggly, gnarly antlers; its eyes were a fiery crimson, almost glowing in the dark night.

"Heeeeeeeelp..." the creature called out in a girl's voice as it slowly descended upon the boy.

"Krun!" With no chance to think, Krarshe dashed out from his hiding spot and leapt between the monster and Matty. He held up his hand. "Se Esfiru-"

The creature recoiled upon Krarshe's entrance. It let out a horrible, guttural screech, unlike the gentle girl's voice it'd used just a moment ago, and fled into the woods.

"-hino... What?" Krarshe watched it retreat, confused. It snapped branches and trampled through the foliage at full speed, giving little heed to what stood before it. "That... wasn't what I was expecting... Oh! Matty!"

He turned to look at the child. Sure enough, it was a boy. He'd seen him a few times in the village and never learned his name, but figured it must be Matty. He cast a light spell, now more worried about the boy than about drawing attention.

The boy was motionless but appeared unharmed. His eyes were wide, arms rigid in a defensive pose in an attempt to shield himself from the creature. Krarshe touched him; still warm.

As if in response to Krarshe's touch, Matty's eyes shut gently and arms slowly loosened and fell onto his belly. His breathing resumed, calm and slow. It was as if he was asleep.

"What in the world...?" He pondered it for a moment before shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. Just need to get him home," he told himself.

Krarshe ended the spell, crouched down, and took the boy in his arms. "Oof! How's such a small boy so heavy?" he groaned. He adjusted the boy and draped him partly over his shoulder. "This body is too weak. Ugh."

He made his way through the forest and back across the stream as quickly as he safely could. It wasn't long before he could see the faint light from the village. He quickened his pace. Once he felt the sensation of the barrier ripple over his skin, he breathed a sigh of relief.

As he made his way to the village center, he could see a dozen or so men standing around with farming tools and torches. They were listening to Taliarrah say something, but Krarshe couldn't make it out.

"Karshe?" Lycia said as he entered the center of the village. "Where have you... MATTY!"

Everyone turned to look at Krarshe. The look of shock and then excitement overcame them as they all shouted in unison, "Matty!"

Matty's mother came running over, taking the unconscious boy from him. "Matty!"

The boy slowly stirred, sleepily opening a single eye. "... Mama?"

"Oh, Matty!" She kissed and hugged him repeatedly.

"Karshe! How'd you find him?!" Marcel asked, running over from the throng of people.

"He was in the woods."

"Just in the woods?"

Krarshe nodded. "I sa-" Wait... No, let's not say it. "I found him asleep, not far from that face tree."

Marcel raised an eyebrow. "That... seems odd."

"I agree, but that's what happened. Maybe he was saved by some miracle?"

Marcel looked perplexed. "Maybe... I guess it does happen from time to time."

It does?? "Y-yeah. I guess we can count this as a blessing."

"Regardless of the results, Krarshe, you acted alone," Taliarrah said, walking up to him. "I don't care how skilled you are. You need to think and act more cautiously. Doing that will get you or someone else killed."

"Right..." Krarshe said, hanging his head low.

"You're lucky this time. Don't count on luck in the future."

"Yes, master..."

"Well, I guess the search party isn't necessary anymore," she said, turning to the crowd. "You can all go home and get some re-"

"This calls for drinks!" Marcel shouted. Everyone cheered, the excitement still high.

She looked at Marcel. "Do as you wish, I'm going to sleep. Dawn comes early."

"Suit yourself. To the tavern! Oh, and Karshe. I'll probably be too hung ov- I mean, I don't know if I'll have a chance to see you off. So, take care of yourself out there!"

Krarshe watched everyone celebrating as they paraded to The Tavern again. Matty's parents wouldn't give him a moment's rest, despite his confused protest.

"Oh, Krarshe. A moment, please." Taliarrah pulled him aside. "Lycia, you can go home. I need to speak with him. Privately."

"R-right. Well, good night then, Karshe," she said with a bow before she trotted off.

Taliarrah waited until they were alone before speaking. "Okay, what really happened?"

Krarshe's eyes went wide with surprise before catching himself. "W-what do you-"

"I know he wasn't just sleeping out there. The gods are not so merciful, nor do they act so directly. So what happened?"

Krarshe knew there was no deceiving her discerning eye. "He was deeper into the woods, past the stream."

"And?"

"T-there... was a... Actually, I don't know what it was. Some creature. It was leaning over him, calling for help in a girl's voice. A human voice."

"A howler."

"That was a howler?!"

She nodded. "They lure prey by mimicking its voice. In this case, a human voice to lure a human. They're dangerous, even for me. How'd you defeat it, exactly? I didn't notice your... magic from here."

"I... I don't know."

"You don't know? You're not getting off that easy. What do you mean? What did you do?"

"I simply... jumped out in front of it. I had started a spell, but I hadn't even finished two words before it turned and ran."

"It... ran?"

Krarshe nodded.

"Hmm... When it saw you, it ran?"

"I... guess so?"

"Hmm.........." She eyed him up before shrugging. "Whatever the reason, don't act so rashly in the future."

"R-right."

Turning, she waved a hand and said, "At dawn, Krarshe, we depart. Don't be late."

"Y-yeah..."

He sighed as he started for Marcel's house. What exactly happened in the woods, he wasn't sure, but he felt that his master might have an idea. He didn't know why she wouldn't bring it up but he hoped to put the conversation behind him. Besides, he was the hero of the day. At least in his mind. And tomorrow, new adventures awaited him.

His pace quickened, a smile spreading across his face as he thought about the next day.