The completion of the village defenses became a race against the unknown. The scouts' report of faint trails and distant smoke had injected a new urgency into the work. The rhythmic sounds of hammering and digging intensified, fueled by the tangible threat of other people in the surrounding forest. The trench deepened, the earth bank rose higher, and the palisade of sharpened logs steadily encircled the village perimeter. Every villager contributed, their movements driven by a shared purpose – to make their home a secure bastion in a world that was proving to be far more complex and dangerous than they had initially believed.
Elias worked tirelessly alongside them. His small hands were strong now, calloused and capable. He carried logs, helped weave brush and mud into the palisade walls, and constantly moved along the construction line, guiding the villagers, explaining (in their now-familiar language) the principles behind the fortifications. He showed them how to create murder holes in the gate – small openings from which defenders could fire down on attackers – and how to build a simple, sturdy rampart behind the palisade, allowing defenders to stand higher and shoot over the wall.
Borin and the toolmakers were busier than ever, constantly repairing and sharpening the digging sticks and axes that were essential for the work. The discovery of the creature's hide plates and the dark metal panel remained a topic of fascination and speculation, but the immediate, practical need for sturdy wooden tools and strong defenses took precedence. The metal panel stood by the entrance, a silent, dark guardian, a reminder of both the power of the Old Ones and the unexpected aid it had provided during the creature attack.
As the defenses neared completion, smaller, more frequent foraging parties were sent out to the newly discovered resource locations. These were quick, efficient trips, focused solely on gathering the needed healing leaves and strong wood, with the scouts moving cautiously and returning before nightfall. They saw no more direct signs of other groups, but the knowledge of their potential presence lingered, keeping the villagers vigilant.
One sunny afternoon, while a small group of villagers, including Elara and Elias, were gathering edible roots and berries near the edge of the clearing, a sudden shout echoed from the direction of the river. It was a cry of alarm, sharp and urgent.
Immediately, the villagers around Elias tensed, their hands going to the simple knives and tools they carried. Elias's heart leaped into his throat. Had another creature attacked? Had the defenses been breached?
Kaelen's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the sudden fear. "To the walls! Hunters, with me!"
The villagers gathering roots scattered, some running back towards the village entrance, others seeking cover behind trees. Elara grabbed Elias's arm, her face pale. "Come, child! To the village!"
But Elias hesitated, his gaze fixed on the direction of the shout near the river. He could hear more shouts now, but they didn't sound like the roars of a beast. They sounded like… human voices. Unfamiliar human voices.
He pulled his arm free from Elara's grasp. "Other people!" he shouted, pointing towards the river. "Not beast!"
Kaelen, already halfway to the river with a group of armed hunters, paused, looking back at Elias. The child's assertion gave him pause. He had expected another creature, or perhaps bandits, but other people?
Elias knew this was a critical moment. Direct confrontation with an unknown group could be disastrous. But if they were peaceful, it could be an opportunity. He had to try and prevent a hostile first contact.
"Wait!" he shouted, running towards Kaelen. "Do not attack! See first! Talk!" He made gestures of peaceful greeting, hands open, a smile.
Kaelen hesitated, his hand on the haft of his spear. His instincts, honed by a lifetime of survival in the forest, screamed caution, screamed defense. But Elias had been right before. His strange knowledge had saved them.
"Lyra, Finn," Kaelen said, his voice low. "With me. The rest, guard the village. Be ready."
He, Lyra, and Finn moved cautiously towards the riverbank, where the shouts were coming from. Elias, ignoring Elara's worried calls, followed close behind, his small legs pumping.
As they neared the river, they saw them. A group of people, perhaps ten or twelve, standing on the opposite bank. They were human, but their clothing was different – woven fabrics dyed with unfamiliar colors, adorned with beads and feathers. They carried spears and bows, but their posture was not immediately aggressive. They seemed as surprised to see the villagers as the villagers were to see them.
A man at the front of the group, taller than the others, with a headdress of bright feathers, called out in a language Elias didn't understand. It was different from the village's tongue, softer, more melodic.
Kaelen and his small group stopped at the river's edge, facing the newcomers across the water. Tension hung in the air, thick and heavy. Spears were held ready on both sides, but no one made a move to attack.
Elias stepped forward, moving slightly ahead of Kaelen. He raised his hands slowly, palms open, the universal gesture of peace he had used when he first arrived in this world. He then spoke, his voice clear despite his pounding heart. "We… are… village," he said, using the simple words he knew. "We… friend." He pointed to himself, then to Kaelen and Lyra, then swept his hand towards their village hidden behind the trees. He then pointed to the newcomers and made a gesture of question – asking who they were.
The man with the feather headdress watched Elias with a look of astonishment. A child, speaking in simple terms, making gestures of peace. He exchanged a quick glance with his companions. He then lowered his spear slightly and spoke again, his voice less sharp this time, still in his own language, but accompanied by gestures. He pointed to himself and his group, then made a gesture of traveling, of coming from a distance. He pointed to the river and then downstream, indicating they had come from that direction.
Elias understood the basic message – they were travelers from downstream. He nodded, then pointed to the river flowing past their village and upstream, indicating their village was here.
A tentative, non-verbal communication was established, mediated by gestures and Elias's simple language. The tension began to ease, replaced by cautious curiosity on both sides. The newcomers seemed as hesitant as the villagers to initiate conflict.
Kaelen, watching this exchange, lowered his spear further. He looked at Elias with a mixture of wonder and relief. The child's strange ability to bridge the gap, to communicate with these unknown people, had potentially averted a dangerous confrontation.
The two groups remained on opposite sides of the river for a time, observing each other. The Sun-Eye began to dip lower, casting long shadows across the water. It was too late for a prolonged interaction, too risky to invite strangers into the village immediately.
Kaelen, using gestures and simple words, indicated that they would stay on their side of the river, that they were not hostile, and that perhaps they could speak more tomorrow. The man with the feather headdress seemed to understand, nodding in agreement. He pointed to the setting sun, then to the sky, then made a gesture of the sun rising again, indicating they would remain nearby until morning.
With a final, cautious exchange of looks, the two groups began to withdraw from the riverbank. Kaelen, Lyra, and Finn led their small party back towards the village entrance, their spears still in hand, but their steps lighter than they had been moments before. Elias walked beside Kaelen, his mind buzzing with the implications of this encounter. Other people. A different language, different customs. The world had just become a little smaller, and a lot more complicated. The sounds of the village resuming its evening routine filled the air, a comforting backdrop to the new awareness of their neighbors in the vast green expanse.