Chapter 95: How strange.
Nathan and Liaraen returned to the settlement with the horse loaded.
The Drakain bodies were tied with thick ropes to the horse’s sides. The bags with the tree meat and the seed were secured in the central luggage. And Nathan and Liaraen walked beside the horse with the calibrated calm of two people who’d had a considerably more productive afternoon than they’d planned.
They entered the settlement around dusk.
And from the first step into the clearing, something felt different.
The settlement’s people stopped when they saw them.
Not with the neutral calm they’d shown the previous afternoon when they first arrived. With the specific fixity of people who had been waiting for hours for exactly this moment, and who were now watching the scene in real time with an attention that suggested every detail was important to them.
Nathan noticed it in a second.
Ah.
Good. Today too.
Liaraen noticed it as well.
Her right hand moved beside her sword’s hilt with the reflexive efficiency she’d developed over the past few weeks.
Nathan shook his head briefly toward her.
No.
Not yet.
Let’s see what happens.
They continued walking toward the settlement’s center.
And as they advanced, the people began to approach.
Not exactly with hostility. Just with presence.
A small group formed around Nathan and Liaraen approximately ten meters from the central well. Approximately eight people. All with the same expressionless expression. All looking at the horse with the Drakain and the bags of meat.
Nathan stopped the horse.
He turned to the group.
And with his cynical smile calibrated to "I’m going to try to handle this with diplomatic naturalness" mode:
"Good afternoon."
No one responded.
"We took advantage of the afternoon to eliminate some Drakain that appeared near the burned area. And also to extract a bit from the meat tree at the edge."
No one responded.
Nathan looked around.
The same faces. The same expressionlessness. The same fixed eyes.
Nathan continued.
"We need a place to store the meat. It’s considerable. Approximately twelve kilograms. We’re going to extract more tomorrow before returning to Greywall. And I’m going to share the surplus with the settlement. You earned the share by calling us with the mission."
Silence.
Eight people. No response.
Nathan glanced at Liaraen out of the corner of his eye.
Liaraen returned the look with an expression suggesting she also hadn’t received this kind of response before during any documented diplomatic interaction in her aristocratic instruction.
Nathan tried once more.
"We’re going to prepare a feast tonight. With the tree meat. It can feed considerably all twenty settlement people. Everyone eats. No one goes without a portion."
Silence again.
Approximately five full seconds.
Then, from the back of the group, a man stepped forward.
Tall. Approximately forty years old. With a face slightly different from the others. With an expression that combined the same general expressionlessness of the group with something barely different behind it.
"I’ll store it."
Nathan looked at him.
"I appreciate the offer. Your name?"
"Yorel."
"Yorel. I appreciate it."
And in the exact second Yorel stepped forward to offer himself, all the settlement’s people simultaneously turned their heads to look at him.
Nathan caught it with the visual efficiency that passive Soul Sense had developed in him over the past few weeks.
Eight people.
Eight heads moving in unison.
With the synchronization that no casual human group could have achieved without explicit coordination.
And approximately half a second after the synchronization, the eight people simultaneously resumed their normal range of behavior. Soft smiles. Relaxed posture. Small comments among themselves about how exciting the night’s feast was going to be.
As if the expressionless moment had never happened.
Nathan kept his cynical smile calibrated.
Liaraen kept her hand near her sword but didn’t draw.
And Yorel turned to Nathan.
"Come, Hunter Voss. I’ll show you where we’re going to store the meat."
Nathan nodded.
"Let’s go."
They began walking toward one of the houses at the settlement’s edge.
---
Yorel’s house was one of the most isolated from the center.
Approximately fifty meters from the well. With a small orchard behind it. With a stone storage shed beside it that functioned as a cold room. Yorel opened the shed door. The interior was considerably colder than the outside air, with the temperature the thick stone maintained throughout the day.
Nathan carried the meat bags into the shed.
He placed them on the wooden shelves Yorel indicated.
He straightened up.
He turned around.
And with his cynical smile calibrated to "I’m going to make an observation I’ll handle diplomatically" mode:
"Yorel."
"Yes."
"You seem like the most normal person in the settlement."
Yorel looked at him.
With a slightly reserved expression.
Then he spoke, with a calm voice:
"Ah. The others."
"Yes. The others. Everyone seems to act considerably strangely."
"Excuse them. Most of the village doesn’t like being near that tree."
Nathan nodded.
Liaraen spoke beside him.
"Why?"
"Meat trees attract dangerous creatures looking for the meat. That’s why the settlement has had problems over the past few months. First the Nightbrid. Now the Drakain. And in recent weeks, the creatures have been acting considerably stranger."
"Stranger how?"
"They kill each other. Without visible reason. Something is affecting them. That also explains why the Nightbrid disappeared suddenly."
Nathan processed that.
The larger creature. The one that left marks on the ground. The one that probably eliminated the Nightbrid. The one that’s probably empowering the Drakain with the strange aura.
It’s affecting the entire local ecology.
This is considerably more serious than the original mission suggested.
Yorel continued, with his still-calm voice.
"The settlement has learned to keep its distance from the meat tree. The residents consider it a restricted zone for their own safety. That’s why they reacted when they saw you return with the meat. They’re worried the creatures will follow the meat to the settlement."
Nathan nodded.
"Understandable."
"The feast tonight will serve to consume the meat quickly. That reduces the window during which creatures can be attracted by the residual scent."
"Understood."
And at that moment, as Yorel finished the phrase, Nathan’s Soul Sense reacted.
With the specific alert signature he’d learned to recognize.
Hostile presence.
Close.
Approximately a meter from Liaraen.
Nathan reacted.
He extended his right hand. Gave Liaraen a firm pat on her right thigh, over the fabric of her dress, with the specific precision Soul Sense had indicated.
Liaraen let out a small sound of surprise.
Her pale green eyes widened.
Her cheeks flushed considerably.
And with her voice calibrated to "I’m going to maintain diplomatic calm but considerably" mode:
"Nathan."
"Sprout."
"What are you doing?"
"Soul Sense detected a threat."
"A threat?"
"Yes."
Nathan raised his palm.
And on his palm, crushed by the impact, was an insect.
Approximately the size of a fingernail. With a black body and transparent wings.
Liaraen looked at it.
Then at Nathan.
With the specific mix of reduced embarrassment and calibrated annoyance.
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"It’s an insect."
"Yes."
"Soul Sense alerted you to an insect."
"Yes."
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"That technically is a threat, but definitely not of the category that justifies you slapping my leg."
"Sorry."
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"Next time, please warn me first."
"Alright."
Yorel laughed softly.
With the first completely human expression Nathan had seen from him during the ten minutes of conversation.
"Hunter Voss."
"Yes."
"Those are swamp horseflies. They appear in this part of the forest at this time of day. They’re not dangerous to humans because they can’t penetrate thick skin. However, they’re considerably annoying. And for small animals, they’re considerably worse."
"Understood."
"They appear more frequently in autumn due to the forest’s humidity. The settlement’s residents got used to them over the years."
"Understood as well."
"You should rest. The feast is going to start in approximately two hours. You two are the guests of honor because you brought the meat and also eliminated the Drakain that were stalking the area."
Nathan nodded.
"Understood."
"You can also visit the settlement’s hot springs before the feast. They’re behind the blacksmith’s workshop. The residents have maintained them for generations. Men on the left side, women on the right side, with stone walls dividing them. The water is heated by natural underground currents."
Nathan nodded again.
"I appreciate the information, Yorel."
"Rest. I’ll see you at the feast."
Yorel turned and left the shed.
Nathan and Liaraen were left alone.
They looked at each other for a full moment.
Then Liaraen spoke, with the calm voice she’d developed.
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"This settlement is considerably strange."
"Considerably...? It really is strange."
"The synchronization behavior when Yorel stepped forward was especially strange."
"Yes, and everyone also changed their attitude from when we arrived to when we returned."
"And Yorel is also part of the strange behavior, even though he seems more normal than the others."
"Yes, also."
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"Are we going to the hot springs?"
"Yes. We need to relax before the feast we’re going to have to critically evaluate for its entire duration."
"Acceptable."
"Acceptable."
They left the shed.