A feast a tad too rowdy

“Drink more, Vic! Svadil is healing, the harvest and hunts went so well that we will have food for winter and spring and even summer, and all the births went well! You are bigger than me, you should be able to rise your arm more, no?” Inside the common house, the harvest feast had been going strong, for a place with ninety souls inside a “church” used more as a pub than anything else.

Truly, the baron who had paid pretty pennies for this was probably turning in his tomb at seeing the equivalent of a church being turned into a place of merriness, its holy walls being lined up with kegs of salted food, conserve and liquor, and its holy table being used to serve the cups in the feast.

Or maybe not, nobles were very likely to be corrupt after all.

“Oi, Vic, drink.” Ingrid continued to push the mead against my chin, the raw wood scraching my chin, and the aroma of honey filling my nose, while the other people continued to cheer and laugh and drink.

The whole hamlet, from the fourteen little children who were drinking milk and honey liquor to old Grandma and Gramps, dwarves who were older than even this building, drinking something that smelt like gasoline.

I am sure that Luke's dingy plane would fly as fast as a jet if it had that as fuel.

"Stop ignoring me."

Annnndd now I was sad again.

"I will stomp your foot." Ingrid's voice cut through my mood before it came up again, making me look at her with the tail of my eye, her figure becoming more and more menacing by the second, her green eyes glaring through me.

Better bully the small woman, it would help.

"Sorry Ingrid, you were just too small to see." I turned towards her fully, being taller than she was while I was seated.

It was also a-

*Stomp!*

"Conar-!"

The full weight of the dwarwish woman fell on my foot at that moment in a mighty stomp, making me shout before my mouth was full of honey wine, which almost went down the wrong pipe.

I coughed when the mead reached my stomach, some of the drops really going down the wrong pipe, laughter at Ingrid's violence and at my own pain, some even heavily patting my back.

Damn it, Thorin, you are the smith, your hands are worse than paddles!

Shut it, Ivar! You may be wider than me, and just slighly smaller, but I can bring mice inside your trousers!

Frida, I will not give you no-more lavander soap, see if you like it, I know you loved it when I bring it for your birthday, and when I add it for your dear Ivar's birthday!

Also, my back isn't a drum, damn it!

"Now, will you drink Vic or do I need to use my foot to shut the speaking pipe and open the right one?" Ingrid asked sweetly, her smile far too wide to be called anything other than scary, her squinted green eyes reflecting the light of the common house's hearth, in a way that truly made me almost cower in fear.

Unfortunately wisdom was not my strongest virtue, so I pointedly looked at the foot and quipped: "You know, to put your foot down you may need bigger ones, dear Ingrid."

Her eyes squinted more, her smile became even wider, while I felt the air around us becoming more and more charged.

Wait.

"Oi, Vic, I will-"

"Shh." I shushed her before she could speak, getting up and looking around, my instincts saying that something was wrong.

From afar there were so many sounds of animals, from howls to caws to shrills to grunts to even the insects, waking them up from their slumber.

"Vic, why-" probably Ingrid saw my face, and the same did Gramps and Grandma, who stared at me and put down their own glasses, and the other people stopped speaking, themselves feeling something was wrong.

It's-

Listener-

Protector of the old ones-

Remnant of the old world-

Paladin-

Hero-

Villain-

Of the Enders-

The spirits were getting in a fritz, almost deafening me with that cacophony, my hands reaching for my ears.

Danger-

Opportunity-

Duty-

Injustice!

Oath breakers!

Save-

Preserve-

I felt the vertigo taking over me, my stomach twisting, my head pulsing, my skin becoming slick with sweat.

Listener-

Oath-taker-

Protector-

Druid-

Liberator-

Bringer of-

“Vic!” Ingrid grabbed me before I could fall down, her face a mask of worry and concern, but the cacophony didn’t end, it did not end.

The animal weren’t speaking, the people weren’t speaking, even the wind was voiceless, despite this being autumn.

But the spirits continued, continued, continued.

Then, for a second, they stopped as well.

For one second.

Then, light.

Of many, wrong colours, of purple and red, of blue and yellow, of white and black, coming from the forest, through the transparent part of the stained window.

Get down!

I jumped on Ingrid in that moment, covering her with my body, the universal shouts of the spirits making me move and shield her.

Then came the explosion.

The window broke first, its coloured glass breaking in many particles, which luckily didn’t hit anyone badly.

The Common House shook for a moment, but it fortunately held well, some kegs falling to the ground and cracks appearing, and some cups following them.

Nothing went against the people, again luckily.

Unfortunately, the sound came later.

It was loud, like a cannon had gone off beside my head, louder than the engine of that single engine, louder than the concerts I had been to before arriving here.

After remaining down for a few seconds, I shook off my daziness and got up, my ears ringing painfully.

But there was much to do.

First, Ingrid.

Scared, wide pupils, quick pulse, but no injury.

Then, I went to the children, who were grabbing their ears and crying, but other than some cuts and some bruises, they were well, and so their parents, after I asked through some signs if they were well.

Then I went for the old people. There were some grandmas and grandpas who, other than the scare, were less scared than the children, and were helping those who had fallen badly on their own, helping their children's and their children's children.

Nothing broken, luckily for us.

The bigger problem were Grandma and Grandpa.

The old dyrgia was clinging to Grandpa, the old dwarf shaking slightly and gripping his wife as well, his grey eyes spirited, while her own blue unfocused.

I made sure to put myself in front of them and get on my knees, to look as unthreatening as possible, and point to myself, trying to make myself seen and understood.

Unfortunately I could not use my voice due to how, well, all our ears would probably be gone for at least a quarter of an hour, so much that even when they said something over and over I could not get it.

But, they were not injured, not openly at least.

I could not see shortness of breath, nor bruises on their heads, and they were in the same position they were before the explosion.

I could not do much, not with the ringing and above all not without risking them being hurt more, and I needed to make sure that there was no one really hurt, so I got up.

Only for a strong hand to clamp around my forearm, and for an old and powerful voice to enter my mind.

Go to the forest, Druid. All in the house are well, your presence will be needed there.

I turned sharply towards the old dwarves, and Grandma was the one whose eyes I met, her blue eyes now focused again, and sharp like knives.

If it had been the old world, the old France, the old village in the Savoy I came from, I would have rejected.

But this was a hundreds years old woman who had just shown to be someone with a lot more past than I thought, so instead I nodded and started moving towards the door, Erik taking my place at taking care of his parents.

"-c!"

Listener!

We need eyes!

Old enemy!

Old friend!

The cacophony of the spirits was back, and I groaned at the headache it formed with the headache I already had, but it almost seemed like they understood and piped down, now only a strong pulling feeling to where the explosion had been.

"-ic!"

I then saw two crows, one white and one black, land in front of me, their caws barely audible, but urgent.

Munin and Hugin were here, and if them and the spirits wanted me to go somewhere...

important.

The village had broken windows, and the animals were obviously cared, but if the forest was this important…

"Vic!" Ingrid appeared beside me, her green eyes wide and searching for any wound on me, and grabbed me with her own strong hands: "Are you allright?!" she shouted, her voice barely audibile from the ringing, the tone concerned.

I shouted back, trying to calm her down: "I am alright! The Spirits are saying that something is happening in the forest and that I need to go there!"

Ingrid stared at me, her hands still grabbing my arms, then, after a few seconds, she shouted: "Give me a minute, I will grab the rifle!"

I didn't refuse her, didn't even think about it.

Scared animals are dangerous animals, above all when it's almost winter, and there are bears in these mountains.