Shadowed woods lay thick with smell of damp moss and wet leaves. Still air clung to the ground with patches of fog. And a questioning little voice sounded through it all, lost in great distance.
"Aah?" A toddler called out.
Picking himself up, the tiny being stood with his small, chubby hand reaching to the dark trunk of a tree for support. Looking up at the enormous world around him, diffusing away into colors and intriguing shapes, the child blinked his glowing white eyes, and stepped forward, only to stumble with a small 'oof'.
Struggling up to all fours, the child looked up and began to crawl instead. Just a little ahead lay the edge of a ravine. Grass and tree roots hid from oblivious child the view of the jagged drop off, with only a thin stream bubbling lazily on the very bottom.
A buzzing noise and purple particles appeared, making the child briefly blink as he bumped against two hard, black legs that stepped right before him.
"Nno!" The toddler stubbornly complained, recognizing the obstacle and tried to crawl around it. Looking down at the little being, the mob made an uncertain noise. And, ignoring the child's displeased protest, picked him up and vanished.
Just beyond the edge of the twisted ravine on the other side stood a startled villager in blue robe and pale, almost gray skin. Gaping, it continued to stare at the place where the child was just a moment ago, until a basket of herbs dropped from its hands. Then, the villager looked down at it and groaned on bending the aged body down to reach it. Grumbling under its nose, its gray lips twisted with displeasure, it began to stuff the spilled herbs back into it.
...
"Hero! There you are!" Beor exclaimed and stepped to the tall being before it even had the chance to leave the disobedient toddler on the porch of their house as he usually did after Hero went missing.
"Uncle! He is back!" Beor called back to the house over his shoulder and irritably pulled the toddler from the being's arms. Only already turning to the house did he realize what he just did and froze.
Turning around, the tall villager looked back at the being, finding it still standing there in utter confusion at the villager's daring. His breath held, the villager slowly looked up from the being's chest to its face where two lilac eyes looked down at him with disapproval.
"Um..." Beor said, not sure what to say, both grateful that it brought Grake's foundling back to him and irritated that the child vanished again. Their uncle grumbled that they were not watching him well, but how could they when Margol and Tnul kept running in and out of the house, playing, and forgot to keep the door closed?
This morning, he and Rangil were busy washing the dishes and talking. One moment, Hero was there at the table, chewing on a piece of bread that he begged to have despite them all just having eaten breakfast. And when Beor glanced back again, he was gone! If Beor didn't know better, he would have sworn that the child gained the power to Travel the same as this strange being that followed him.
"Rpt..." The Traveler emitted a creaking, mild sound and vanished, leaving behind usual faint, purple particles that drifted around in a flurry. Some landed on the villager's skin, leaving behind tingling, but otherwise causing no ill effect. Beor let out a breath.
"Uncle, he is here now and we need to get ready to leave!" He called back to the door. He critically looked at the child in his hands and found white eyes curiously looking back at him. The child grinned brightly, looking at him with fondness.
"Bah." He said in recognition.
"Hmm..." Beor frowned at him and checked his clothes. "At least, your clothes still look clean." He grumbled.
The door of the house opened and his uncle stepped out. Beor gave the child to him with relief. He had things to do!
"Hero, you are in trouble, child. You cannot run away like this! We were looking for you all morning!" Grandpa Grake began to scold the child with a tone more sad than angry. The toddler's smile fell a little and guilt appeared in his face. Maybe he understood a little more than Beor gave him credit for.
"Uncle, since he's back, I'm going to get my children ready. There is still plenty of time so we all could go to the market today. Are you going to come?" Beor offered.
His uncle nodded without looking at him. He must still be grumpy because Beor and Rangil failed to keep an eye on Hero this morning. Beor sighed. His uncle's concern was not without a good reason.
"All right. We're going to get ready." Beor said firmly and went inside the house.
...
Half hour later the entire family stood gathered outside their house. It was sunny and quiet. Their new house stood on the very edge of the village, separated from it by wheat fields and some bushes, which made it feel as though their house stood alone.
Little Margol stood with a beaming face, proudly waiting while Beor checked again over his new "grown-up" gown. His hands held on tightly to a beautiful large basket that Grandpa Grake made for him just this morning, its edges decorated with intricate motifs that also appeared on its handle and bottom. Margol's younger brother, Tnul, was looking at his happy brother with slight envy and a face still red from crying, now mollified with a promise that once he got a little older, Grandpa Grake would make him such a special basket, too.
Holding his foundling safely in his hands so he wouldn't toddle off again, Grandpa Grake watched with a smile as Beor straightened the little villager's festive gown, while Rangil did the same for little Tnul. Finished, the villager looked over his children and with a satisfied humph turned and lead their entire family to the market. Sun poured down brightly. And everything was calm and well.
Patiently, they stood by and waited for Margol to repeat the Trading words, which uncle Rangil from time to time whispered with everyone pretending not to hear him. The little villager stumbled and slurred, but the villager in the stall patiently waited for them to finish, smiling at them with a kind expression. For his age, Margol was doing very well and such small blunders were allowed. There was laughter and friendly voices not far from them. Everyone just went about their daily routines.
Then, the voices began to hush. Finally, even the villager they were trading with, looked up and his eyes widened. Noticing this, Rangil, Beor, and Grake turned as well.
Coming along the middle of the village path was the Witch. It seemed almost as if a faint shadow fell over the market where she passed. Ignoring everyone staring, she unhurriedly made her way past the numerous stalls until she stopped right in front of Beor's family. All three grown-up villagers tensed as they looked at her and the villager in the stall completely shrunk and tried to remain unnoticeable, realizing that the being had no interest in him at all.
Alien eyes with violet tinged irises held on the oldest villager, first, and Grake immediately clutched tighter to his foundling, turning so Hero would be hidden behind him. Child's white eyes searched his caretaker's face with growing confusion and apprehension settled on his face, even though he obviously didn't understand a thing. Still, the child blinked and hid his face against his caretaker's shirt.
Rangil, too, drew Tnul behind him, though he shrunk back a little and his eyes widened, filling with anxiety. Margol, who noticed the Witch last as she listened to the little villager still trying to repeat the last sentence, before he finally became aware of the silence, gasped and darted behind Beor, who lay a protective hand on his child's shoulder and frowned at the strange villager from his height of nearly two heads up.
The villager looked at each of them in turn, last of all at Beor, and then suddenly smiled. Slightly shaking her head to herself in amusement, she turned and began walking away the way she came. Everyone watched, all conversation hushed, until the strange villager's hunched form disappeared behind the outer houses. Then, everyone started talking.
"Uncle... " Beor frowned after the Witch. "... She would know... if he is Human or not. We should ask her." Beor spoke very quietly, so only his uncle could hear him. His uncle's eyes shot to him and a frown immediately settled on his face.
"No!" His uncle cut off, his tone sharp. "I forbid you!"
There was an iron edge in his tone and the taller villager winced. Skewing his eyes at Grake, Beor saw a scowl on the old villager's face as he once again glared in direction the Witch went. "She will only tell you lies because she wants Hero."
"How do you know that?" Beor insisted with a frown settling into his heavy eye-brows. The older villager switched his troubled gaze to him, his hand protectively patting his foundling's back as he clung to him, his face still hidden against the villager's shirt.
"Shhh. Its all right, Hero. She's gone." The villager said gently, ignoring Beor's question at first as he seemed to be thinking. Finally, he humphed. "I just know... Do not trust her!" The villager warned. Uneasily, Beor glanced at the empty path where the Witch passed, but then frowned again as doubt returned to his expression. He didn't say anything again, though. His uncle was too set on believing what he did to listen.
The other villagers all quietly gossiped, casting Beor's family suspicious looks.
"Why did she come?"
"Its Grake's foundling, no doubt."
"What did she want with him?"
"She didn't say."
Grake also heard these things. "...I better go home." He said quietly with returning weariness, his shoulders slumping a little. Beor looked at him a moment. Pinching his lips a bit, he stubbornly set his jaw and reached his hands to Grake's foundling, firmly taking him from his uncle's hands. His uncle let him.
"No. You should stay. I'll take him home." Beor said firmly. "You've been cooped up inside too long as it is because of him." He nodded to the little being in his arms.
"Hmmm. Yes, that's true... But... You should stay with Margol." The old villager reluctantly cast the lively market around them a wistful look before his pale green eyes came to rest warmly on two little villagers who were already taking the opportunity of being ignored and giggling as they pushed each other in gest.
"Oh, don't worry of it, Uncle. There will be more days to teach them our ways. Rangil can keep an eye on them both today." The big villager insisted and his younger brother immediately nodded with a soft smile at young villagers, his uncle, and his elder brother.
"All right." The old villager gave up, pleased. He roughed up his foundling's hair to which the toddler responded with a contented smile. "Hero, be good. Don't let him wander off. And make sure he takes his nap on time. He is already tired." Grake reminded, at which Beor only huffed.
"I know everything I'm supposed to do uncle, don't worry. I'll take care of him."
Dismissing the grateful thanks from his uncle that followed, the tall villager leaned to the little villagers, whose faces beamed at his attention. "Listen to your uncle." He told them both a little sternly. Content at their ready, obedient nods, the villager smiled and headed out of the market.
Noticing the uneasy, speculative looks that followed him, aimed at the little being he carried, he made an annoyed huff. Yes, Grandpa Grake's foundling was strange and they didn't know even half of it. But, that didn't give them all permission to stare like this. It was impolite. He frowned, returning a disapproving look to the villagers he found doing so and they immediately turned away their eyes, a bit ashamed. It didn't last long and Beor felt them turning to watch again behind his turned back.
He sped up his step and felt glad when he was finally out of the Market where the incident occurred. Then, he slowed down again, relaxing as he thought about all the things he still needed to do when he got home. One of them was making some sort of bars on the child's bed to keep him from running off the moment he turned away. He had heard enough of Grandpa Grake's grumbling since the last time the child vanished and he didn't want to hear anymore, even if it meant he would have to put him back in a crib. It wasn't good, though. He should have been old enough to sleep in his own bed and do as he was told.
Glancing at the Grake's foundling in his hands, grasping securely to his shirt, he allowed himself a small smile at him, too. Despite knowing what he did about him, he couldn't help becoming attached to this little being. His bright eyes shining with curiosity, the child looked back at him with trust, no different than his own children.
"Some nice stew. And eggs for lunch. How does that sound." Beor offered, himself looking forward to a tasty meal.
"Um!" Grake's foundling responded with almost a fully intelligible word. Or, at least Beor hoped it was. He smiled again, this time wider, and roughed up the child's hair as a reward and tickled his side. The child giggled and briefly tried to wiggle out of the secure hold, but stopped almost immediately. Instead, making a tired yawn, he leaned his tousled head against Beor's shirt and rested, his eyelids drooping.
His smile turning into a content brief chuckle, the tall villager continued walking. Nodding to a few greetings and nods cast his way by other villagers, very soon he reached the edge of the village and then crossed across the fields to their family's new house. It was much bigger than their uncle's old house, even though Beor also made many improvements there before he decided to build an entirely new house further away.
Proudly, the villager surveyed the work of his hands that he did with his brother's help and continued on with his chin lifted to the freshly painted, ornate gate of the accurate fence stretching all the way around it and the large garden, where fresh green stalks of vegetables perked out of the ground, ready for gathering. Bright red poppies softly swayed beyond the newly tilled ground and soft white clouds passed above. Gently, translucent green leaves rustled on the small oak saplings that Beor planted around the house to give it shade in the future.
Everything was well. Contentment washed across Beor's heart.
"Ooof. You got heavier..." Beor commented, adjusting the weight of Grake's foundling in his arms. The child only widely yawned, his glowing eyes entirely closed. Beor looked at him critically, trying to remember how big the child was now compared to when he saw him first and couldn't quite make up his mind. He was definitely a little bigger, but not nearly as much as he expected. Compared with Margol and Tnul, who were already running and talking, it seemed that Grake's foundling barely grew at all. Beor wondered just how much longer would it be before he finally matured.
He had been too optimistic when he reassured his uncle that it would be all right and take however long it took for his foundling to grow up. What if he didn't? What if it would be Beor, old, who would have to seek for someone to take over this strange being's care? He didn't want to reveal to anyone the strangeness about him for his old uncle's sake, because he knew what would happen if they found out about his connection to the monsters. They already disliked him because of earlier noise and crying. At least he didn't do that anymore and Beor never had to deal with it, or he might have grown to dislike the child, too.
Still, since he couldn't tell anyone of his doubts concerning the child, that he wasn't a Human like his uncle still claimed, then it meant that he might have to ask Rangil to help care for the child until he grew up. And it wasn't fair, because it meant that his brother would not get the chance to have his own family. To raise his own children, who would care for him in his old age.
Yes, this future was vague and Beor didn't like these thoughts. At least, those other, dangerous wild monsters stopped coming here for some reason. Only the Traveler continued to come, much to Rangil's unease, but Beor himself no longer feared him. He was only here to help watch over Hero, it seemed.
With an uncertain humph, a slight frown reappearing on his face as he looked at the child he carried, Beor pushed the gate open and carefully closed it behind him. A few more steps took him to the safety of his home, where everything was familiar and in its right place. Placing the sleepy child in his bed, Beor tucked his favorite and somewhat tattered blanket around him and tried to cast the worries from his mind. It was not too hard, as his entire attention switched to making a properly cooked meal. It would be all ready for his family when they got home and it would be really good. He did everything very well, Beor thought to himself, growing contented once more. He always did the right thing.
__________________________
Everything seems very well now and even little Hero's strangeness seems accepted by his family, though they avoid telling about this to the other villagers. It helps that they live slightly away now. Unfortunately, little Hero just ran into someone who is going to change all this.