Chapter 2 - Death in the woods.
Almost half a year had passed since Aren came to the Greenfield family.
Even though his mind went on shaping its own language base without help, he still studied words and concepts diligently alongside Elara, who'd managed to find him a variety of books that helped him quickly master writing, reading, and fluent speech.
In the time free from language study, he took up other fields as well. To everyone's surprise, he was drawn to everything, whether it was the craft of the forge, helping on the farm, or working in the shop.
He was ready to take on anything and learn anything, greedily soaking up knowledge of everything around him. This trait let him adapt quickly to the village and its culture, earning trust and making friends with many of the villagers.
Even Bernard, though it took time, came to trust Aren and think of him as "one of his own." Aren often came to his forge to help out and learn the smith's trade, and he built himself up along the way.
But first and foremost, he helped Elara with the household, tending the livestock, the garden, and her shop, where she sold various brews and herbal infusions, the ingredients for which they gathered in the forest.
Out in the riverside grove, Aren and Leo were testing another invention, while sunlight, breaking through the thick leaves, lay in golden patches on their skin.
"There... think that's enough..." Leo mumbled, focused on fastening the self-deploying wooden shield onto Aren's forearm.
When he finished, he stepped back two paces, while Aren examined the small folded device on his forearm and felt how little it weighed despite the many steel gears and rods forming the unique mechanism hidden at the back of it.
"Fits great... and it's not that heavy either... you really think it'll be better than a normal shield?" Aren asked, still looking the device over.
The boy's eyes shone with feverish excitement as he wiped his oil-smudged forehead with the back of his hand.
"A normal shield? Ha! A normal shield is just a piece of wood, Aren. It's heavy, it's in your way when you run, and you can't hide it. But this... this is my own masterpiece! It's got the best protection and comfort built right in, which is more than you can say for a normal shield."
The boy stepped up and pointed to a small trigger ring connected to the mechanism's central core.
"Inside, there's tempered-steel springs and a lever system. All you need to do is snap your wrist sharply. If my calculations are right, it'll open in a second. Go on, try it!"
With a small sigh, Aren shifted from a frontal stance into a defensive one, just moving his right foot back and bending his knees slightly.
He pulled the ring, and the sharp, short snap of the mechanism firing gave way at once to a long, ringing clang as the wooden panels' steel rims struck together, which only added to the impression the invention made.
Deployed in a fraction of a second, the shield sat well on Aren's arm and gave him the same coverage as an ordinary shield.
"Holy shit..." he said, raising his eyebrows and opening his mouth a little.
"It really is comfortable..."
While Aren turned his arm and looked the shield over, Leo watched him with his usual calm, analytical expression and rubbed the tip of his chin.
"Hm... it deployed great, but the sound the steel rims make on impact is kind of off... I think the vibration dampening between the mechanism and the main frame isn't finished... in that case, this shield would give out right away against ordinary sword strikes... needs more work..."
Aren lifted only one eyebrow at Leo's words and looked at the shield again.
"You think so? Looks sturdy enough to me."
Leo sighed with a smile, rubbed the back of his neck, and came a little closer.
"Key word, 'looks.' It has to actually be sturdy."
Suddenly they heard a familiar voice approaching, and when they turned toward it they saw their mutual friend, eleven-year-old Mortis, from the Siever family, their neighbors.
"Leo!"
"What's up, Mortis?" Leo asked.
"Elara's looking for you. She's asking you to come home a bit early and help her out," Mortis answered, glancing over at Aren, who stood there with the mechanical shield.
Leo sighed, a little disappointed, and wiped his hands on his t-shirt.
"I thought I'd already helped her with everything she needed... oh well. Aren, you can fold the shield back up, just pull the same ring."
Aren took hold of the trigger ring again and pulled it to activate the retracting mechanism, but nothing happened.
He was a little surprised and tried a couple more times, with the same result.
"I think... it's not working anymore..." Aren said, turning the shield over.
"What? Already? No way!"
Leo came closer, yanked at the ring and examined the shield at the same time.
"Weird, I don't think the problem's the—" Leo muttered thoughtfully under his breath, then pressed on the seam of one of the panels.
Suddenly the mechanism triggered, instantly folding the shield and pinching the tip of Leo's finger in the process.
"AAH, DAMN IT!" Leo's loud cry rang out across the whole grove, followed by the flustered voices of Aren and Mortis, startled and trying to help the little inventor.
Later, once they were back home, Bernard's laughter filled the room when he heard Aren's account of what had happened.
"Little Leo still hasn't learned any safety habits, has he?" Bernard said, his mouth twisting into a sly grin.
Aren sat on the floor and carefully assembled boxes made of thin wooden panels held together by special steel corner brackets with a clamping mechanism, while Elara sat across from him with Leo.
She shot the blacksmith a reproachful look as she bandaged her brother's finger.
"All you ever do is laugh, Bernard. A couple more millimeters and Leo would've had to learn to hold a screwdriver in his left hand. Some inventor, geez..." Elara said, and finished by tugging Leo's nose.
Leo pouted and hissed in pain as the herb-based antiseptic touched the wound.
"But the mechanism worked! Just need to sort out the vibration dampening, and the shield will be ready."
"Maybe add some kind of safety mechanism too? Something like what Aisengard devices have? You know... so you don't hurt yourself if something goes wrong," Aren asked, raising his head and looking at the boy.
Leo smiled and glanced at Aren, while Elara finished with his finger, stood up from her chair and carefully put the extra bandages away in a drawer.
"Interesting idea, but in practice it wouldn't help at all, since one of the shield's key features is how fast it triggers. Remember we read that physics textbook together not long ago, the one brought over from Aeris-Lund? There was a section on kinetic energy."
Aren lowered his head, sank into deep thought and dug through the endless library of knowledge he'd gathered from every corner of his life in this village, until at last he remembered.
"Kinetic energy... yeah, I remember, but how could that be conne—"
Before he could finish the question, his eyes widened, and then he smirked.
"Right, of course. Even if some kind of safety catch did trigger, it wouldn't have had time to cancel out the kinetic energy anyway, not with the mechanism's high trigger speed, the weight of the panels, and the stiffness of the shield's steel trim all working against it. So no matter how you look at it, there's no avoiding injury..."
"Bang on!" Leo answered, and snapped his middle finger and thumb together with his index finger pointed at Aren.
But the boy had used his injured middle finger for the snap without thinking, and a moment later he cried out in pain again.
"AH, DAMN IT!"
He immediately clapped his other hand over his mouth, too late to stop himself from blurting out a bad word, and Elara spun around at once, frowning straight into his eyes.
Meanwhile, Bernard gave a low chuckle at the scene in front of him and got up slowly from his chair.
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"Well, kids, before my brain boils over again from another one of your big-brained conversations, I'd better get going."
Bernard was heading for the door when Elara came up to him quietly and brushed a few dusty smudges off his shirt.
"Heading straight home?"
"Yeah, there was a good bit to do today, and I'm damn tired."
"All right, take care of yourself," Elara answered, and Bernard nodded with a warm smile and left the room.
Bernard's heavy footsteps faded past the threshold, giving way to the barely audible crunch of gravel under his boots, and a cozy evening dimness settled over the living room, cut through only by the reddish rays of the setting sun.
By the time it had gone dark outside, the smell of fresh pine shavings and warmed wax filled the living room, mixing with the scent of night herbs sweeping in through the open window.
Aren set the last finished crate against the wall, then brushed the dust off his palms with a few light claps.
"Well, that's done," he muttered under his breath.
"Thank you so much," Elara said, coming up beside him.
"This season's been especially generous... the Summer Festival is only two days off, and we still haven't finished sorting everything," she added, with a small smirk.
Visibly worn out, she walked over to one of the stacks and ran her palm over the smooth wood, a strand of hair loose from her braid and a smudge of wood dust on her cheek.
"By the way... about the festival... what makes it special?" Aren asked.
Elara glanced at Aren, then stepped closer and carefully picked bits of debris out of his hair.
"The Summer Festival in Ockhaven is a national holiday our people have celebrated since ancient times, after making it through winter and the hard part of the year. During this festival, we sort of welcome in the new year while seeing off the old one. For most people it's a chance to really enjoy themselves and feel the joy of life, and for some it's also a chance to earn money and get their goods some attention."
Elara turned back and pointed at the crates.
"These are for the rare infusions we've been brewing all spring. If everything goes well, we'll have enough silver to last us through next winter."
Aren looked at her, then thoughtfully lowered his eyes to the floor, while Leo fiddled quietly with his shield, left-handed.
Long after dark, Elara and the children were already asleep, but Aren, instead of sleeping, was at Ingrid's shop, where the two of them sat in a candlelit room, looked over each item in silence and packed them carefully into sacks.
The silence in Ingrid's shop was broken only by the dry rustle of cloth and the steady clink of glass vials as Aren packed them into soft straw inside the sacks.
The candle flame in the old brass holder danced in the draft, throwing long, broken shadows across walls lined with shelves of exotic curiosities from overseas.
Ingrid, usually loud and lively, was working with focus now, deftly tying off knots on leather cords and every so often shooting Aren short, appraising glances.
"You know, it's so interesting, watching you."
Aren raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"Not the best time or way to make a confession, Ingrid."
The woman's quiet but deep laugh filled the room and they kept working right through the exchange, without even looking at each other.
"Ha, you rascal, you're in no position to joke like that with a married woman... But seriously, I find it interesting to watch you, since I still can't get used to how fast a lost boy who couldn't even talk properly has, in half a year, picked up so many trades, learned to read and write, and works day in and day out, here and there..."
She chuckled and set a bundle of incense from Aeris-Lund into a sack, while he went on sorting the other goods in silence.
"Listen, Aren, have you really still not remembered anything at all?"
He didn't answer right away, and went on examining the items and putting them into different little sacks.
"No, nothing but my name. Not about my past, not about who I am."
Ingrid fell silent, and quiet settled over the shop, broken only by the crackling of the wick.
She looked closely at his profile, lit by the uneven candlelight, and her fingers went still for a moment on the coarse twine.
"Maybe that's for the best... Sometimes the past is a weight that gets in the way of a peaceful life, or a fresh start. Either way, in just half a year or so, you've settled into this village, and a lot of people here are glad for how much care and effort you put into helping us with anything you can. And even if it comes purely from a thirst for knowledge... people here trust you."
She straightened up and, glancing back at the closed door, reached under the counter.
A moment later an object wrapped in dark velvet came to rest on the table.
"Since you've turned out to be so reliable... I've got a job for you. A special one. There's going to be a lot going on in Ockhaven during the festival. I need you to deliver this to someone. His name's Magister Kyle, he usually hangs around the reagent shops in the Upper City. Don't ask what's inside. And for the Goddess's sake, don't show it to Elara. She's too... proper for this kind of thing."
He took the bundle in his hand, looked it over, then met Ingrid's eyes.
"A suspicious object for some magister, and one that clearly won't sit well with Elara?"
Ingrid looked away for a moment, and in the shop's dim light her face seemed older than usual. She leaned her elbows on the counter, tipping a little closer to him, so that the smell of her strong perfume mixed with the smell of dust and wax.
"Magisters are strange people, Aren. They always need things nobody's meant to shout about in the market square. And Elara... she sees the world as honest and simple. For her, anything that doesn't smell of wheat or medicinal herbs seems dangerous. I don't want her fretting over this on top of everything else, she's got enough of her own worries already."
She laid her hand over his, the one gripping the bundle; the metal inside felt cold, and surprisingly heavy for its size.
"Call it payment for my kindness. You didn't really think I gave you the best boots in the village just for your pretty black eyes, did you? Get this to Kyle. He pays well, in silver, and Elara needs that silver right now a lot more than she needs your explanations about morals. Just... don't unwrap it anywhere crowded."
Aren sighed hopelessly and tucked the bundle into the pouch on his belt, then went back to sorting the rest of the goods.
An hour past midnight, he finally finished helping Ingrid and headed home, then slipped quietly inside and past the living room.
Seeing that the door to Elara's room stood slightly ajar, he glanced carefully inside, where she lay on the bed, clearly having dropped onto it without even changing out of her clothes.
With a warm smile, he came closer and covered her with a blanket, then left the room and quietly shut the door.
Aren stepped into Leo's room and found the boy sound asleep on his bed too, with his own bed against the opposite wall, facing it.
He sat down quietly on his own bed, lay back with a deep sigh, stared up at the ceiling, then closed his eyes and let his mind sink into sleep.
While the whole village lay sunk in sleep, somewhere to the south of Waldruhm, where the Great Forest stretched all the way to the southern mountains, a group of three unknown researchers made camp.
The three researchers had settled in the shadow of a fallen tree, taking care not to build up a bright fire; their only source of light was a small oil lamp, shuttered behind a heavy screen.
Around them towered giant trees, their canopies blotting out the moonlight completely.
Vine, the senior member of the group, adjusted the collar of his heavy leather coat marked with the Trade League's insignia and studied a battered map, while beside him Aris, a researcher and his assistant, checked it against notes in a leather notebook.
"Hm... about two days, if we go along this ridge," Vine said thoughtfully, running a finger over the terrain on the map.
"The notes say the terrain there is extremely difficult to cross, and that's not even counting the local predators," Aris added.
Vine frowned, grumbling a little as he tried to work out alternatives.
"There's only the one way in, you can't get into this part of the forest from any other direction. And even so, we don't have enough provisions."
He rolled up the map with a sharp, dry crackle — the mention of the food shortage had made his jaw clench without his meaning it to.
"In that case, we'll have to tighten our belts. Magister Kyle doesn't pay for complaints. If we don't reach the trade road within forty-eight hours, we can kiss our licenses goodbye."
Aris adjusted her thin-framed glasses and started to answer, but froze at the look on the face of York, the third member of their party, who had not been watching the map and had taken no part in the discussion of the route.
He sat motionless, his fingers white with strain around the forestock of his steam rifle.
"York? What's wro—" Aris started to ask warily, but he cut her off.
"Quiet."
"Listen... not a sound... even the crickets have gone quiet," York added.
Absolute silence fell over the forest. The rustle of leaves stopped, as if the forest itself were holding its breath.
The air grew noticeably heavier and took on an ominous edge, and every pulse in the party quickened.
At the sound of a deep crack from the tree trunks somewhere in the dark depths of the forest, an inexplicable panic mixed with primal fear filled their minds and almost paralyzed them.
"The light... Aris... put out the flame," Vine said in a trembling whisper.
She stretched her hand out slowly to the side and pointed her index finger straight at the flame inside the open lamp.
"Fluve~"
The word had barely left Aris's lips before it dissolved into the still air, and a thin but dense stream of wind shot out from her fingertip, snuffing the lamp's flame out cleanly.
A primeval darkness came down, one that not even the faint light of stars could pierce through the giant canopy above.
In that blackness every sense sharpened to its limit, and all that could be heard was Vine's quick, ragged breathing and the quiet metallic click of the safety catch as York released it on his steam rifle.
Suddenly the heavy crack came again, much closer this time, and everyone in the party flinched.
Vine slowly drew his pistol, while Aris raised her hands, ready to fight.
But for all their readiness, their fear showed in their shaking hands and cold sweat.
Something was wrong.
Their bodies were clearly screaming "run," but they kept standing there, throwing glances at each other, until the next crack, deeper and closer than before, came at the same instant as a deep, low growl that made the tree trunks vibrate and the ground shake.
In the darkness they saw two huge, ominous flashes of eyes, not human, but monstrous, and absolute terror made every one of them spin around at the same instant and run for their lives in the opposite direction, leaving their whole camp and provisions behind.
Adrenaline slammed into their blood, turning their muscles into taut strings, and the crack of branches under the researchers' boots seemed deafening in the dead silence of the forest.
But it was lost under the crashing that echoed from the creature now chasing after them.
Every step of their pursuer struck their spines like a heavy blow, a clear sign of the creature's gigantic size.
York stopped for an instant to fire, and the loud crack of the shot was met by an even more terrifying, aggressive growl.
"York, don't stop! To the road! Faster!" Vine shouted, still running.
Aris tripped over a jutting root, almost plowing face-first into the ground, but Vine grabbed her cloak and hauled her up, forcing her to keep running.
Her breathing turned into a wheezing rasp, and sparks danced before her eyes.
Behind them, the giant trees cracked and split, powerless to block the creature's path.
The low growl turned into a guttural grinding of stone, and the creature carved a path of its own, shattering rock and felling giant trees.
"It's... it's not falling behind! It's too fast for something that size!" Vine shouted.
Then he looked across at York, who was running five meters off to his side, to give an order.
"We need to spli—" Vine shouted, but before he could finish, a horrifying, instantaneous image flashed before his eyes, and he kept running.
In the space of a single heartbeat, York's body was crushed under the creature's paw, blood and pieces of flesh flying against the tree trunks, and the rifle itself burst apart, its own steam pressure compounded by the creature's weight.
The sound of the body tearing, of York's bones shattering, and the hiss of the rifle's punctured steam cylinders drowned out even the crash of falling trees; hot spatter struck Vine's face and mixed with his cold sweat.
He didn't stop. He didn't look back.
The survival instinct pushed out everything human and left only the animal urge to run.
Aris let out a choked scream that immediately broke into a silent gasp.
Her eyes, wide as they could go, caught only a bloody smear where their companion had stood a second before.
The creature didn't slow.
York's death was nothing to it but an irritating obstacle, and it let out a short, guttural roar that sent the ground heaving under the fugitives' feet.
"Jump! Into the ravine!" Vine rasped.
To the right, down the slope, gaped a dark drop, the old bed of a dried-up forest river.
Vine all but shoved Aris into the emptiness and jumped right after her an instant before the beast's massive, stone-plated paw tore down the tree they'd just been standing behind.
They tumbled down the slope, scraping their skin on rocks and thorny brush.
The crashing overhead didn't let up, since the creature, worked into a frenzy by the smell of blood and the motion, had no intention of giving up the hunt, and its heavy breathing carried down from above as its claws scraped along the ravine's rocky edge.
When the massive shadow crept slowly down into the ravine and blotted out the last light of the stars, Vine, terrified, pressed his palm over Aris's mouth and held her silent.
A dull grinding of stone on stone announced the beginning of the end of their mission, leaving nothing behind in the night forest but the echo of a dying cry and the heavy tread of the thing now moving north, relentless.