The Faintest Sound

Morning came, and Rory stretched his arms over his head. The village chief's bed was comfortable and warm; he slept very well and woke up feeling limber and full of energy. There was a slight crispness to the air, and the sheets felt smooth against his skin.

After indulging in his post-waking bliss for a moment longer, Rory folded the blankets back and rose out of bed. He started to unbutton his nightshirt and paused, looking around suspiciously for something he knew he would never be able to spot.

"If you're watching, don't," he murmured, before stripping and putting on his usual sorcerer robes. The spirit said it didn't want any cheap favors, so Aurelius had no intentions of doing any for him.

After tidying himself up and eating a simple breakfast, Aurelius went outside to meet the villagers again and trade for supplies.

"Good morning, Aurelius," Jahreszeiten greeted him once he left the chief's house.

'Good morning, Jahre,' Rory smiled. 'We'll depart in an hour or two. I just want to run a few errands first.'

"Do as you please, Aurelius. I'm in no hurry."

Rory nodded and went to do just that. Despite the apprehension the villagers had toward him, manifesting as an uncomfortable hybrid of fear and respect, he was able to trade for more supplies. Winter's herd was loaded up with about as much as they could manage by the time he was done.

"Safe travels, sir Glorianus!" the village chief bowed to him as he was preparing to leave. "That really isn't necessary," Rory smiled awkwardly, "but thank you. You stay safe as w—"

The hairs on the back of Rory's neck stood on end, and he cut himself off mid sentence. Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him that something wasn't right.

As adrenaline flooded his veins and his mana surged within him, Rory's ears picked up the faintest sound out from the treeline and moved on instinct. He cast a spell to raise a shield made of transparent mana around himself. A wooden arrow shattered against it, while a second arrow clipped the edge and went clattering out of its intended path, at the end of which was the chief.

"Wha—Ambush!" The chief shouted, and the villagers scattered. She herself, admirably quick on the draw, ran not for her home across the way, but stuck to Aurelius's side.

The sorcerer himself was too distracted to comment, searching for the source of the arrows and debating whether to run, fire back, or stand and defend himself.

The decision was made for him when more arrows flew between the trees. Rory raised another shield, and when that volley fell helplessly to the ground too, the attacks simply stopped.

Tense with anticipation, Rory kept his eyes and ears wide. Eventually, he had to conclude, "They're gone…"

Well, who would stand and try to fight a sorcerer if they didn't know anything about magic themselves? Pulling back was only sensible.

"Who were they?" He asked the village chief.

"I don't know!" she exclaimed. "We've never been attacked like this before!"

Aurelius frowned. "Could they be bandits who were pushed out of the plains then?"

"Your guess is as good as mine sir," the chief shook her head. She pursed her lips and bowed, clasping her hands tightly and begging, "Could you please do something about them, my lord? At this rate, after you leave here, this village will…"

Rory felt his heart go out to the shrewd older woman. She was a mother around the same age as his own, and although her welcoming had been a little uncomfortable, it was still very generous. Didn't he have something of a responsibility to help, since he had the ability to?

But at the same time, he was on an important mission and had no way of knowing when the other spirits would awaken. The sooner he spread the word and learned the sealing spell, the better. Plus, powerful as sorcery may be against those who lacked it, he would still be putting his life at risk if he went after those bandits.

The scales in his heart were tipping this way and that, but ultimately leaned closer to helping. Before he could quite decide, however, Jahreszeiten spoke through a chilling wind.

"I will take care of them."

Rory blinked. 'You will? You… are going to kill people?'

He was caught completely off guard. All this time, Jahreszeiten had seemed like the time who couldn't hurt a fly—not directly, at least. Now he was offering to murder humans?

"They attacked my Druid," the spirit said, it's voice rumbling furiously through the earth. "I led them towards shelter, and they brazenly turned their weapons against you. That is unforgivable."

'I… I see.'

Rory was torn between feeling secured by the spirit's protectiveness and pitying the bandits. There was nowhere they could run or hide and no way they could defend themselves within this forest once they had angered its master. He wasn't sure how painful their deaths would be, but they were assured now.

Rory turned his attention back down to the desperate chief and reassured her. "You don't have to worry. The forest spirit says you won't see those people again."

When the village chief finished thanking him, Rory finally departed the village as planned, continuing the last leg of his journey out of the forest.

***

Meanwhile, from the shadows between the trees, a group of three dozen unwashed and unshaven men marched through the snow with bitter expressions.

"Great. Just when we think we've found a village, there's a goddamned sorcerer there," one man aggressively scratched his oily head and grumbled, unable to hold in his complaints any longer. "I'm fucking freezing out here. We could've lived like kings there for a month!"

"Shut up!" his neighbor snapped. "We're all fucking cold and hungry, so just shut up!"

"Shut your whore mouth, you don't talk to me like that!"

The de facto leader of these bandits, a particularly large man with a prominent scar across his face, was about to turn around and tell both of them to shut the hell up, when an ominous feeling came over him.

"Everybody stop," he ordered, his eyes searching the tree canopy anxiously. "… Did you hear something?"