Soren watched Luc leave the cabin, rushing back with hurried steps until he disappeared among the houses.
He stood there in the doorway, pondering what the boy had told him.
Missing children were not a problem to be ignored by the villagers, and considering the elder's personality, Soren couldn't imagine he'd just stand by and do nothing.
Of course, he might be jumping to conclusions. After all, he'd only known the elder for a little over half a day. Even with the missing children, the man had welcomed him warmly into the village.
"Except for that old man…" Durand's face surfaced in his mind.
Soren didn't suspect Durand of anything sinister. It was just that, unlike the elder, Durand seemed intent on driving him out of the village. But perhaps he could interpret it as the old man merely trying to protect the village from strangers in such a precarious time.
In the end, Durand had still taken him to the elder.
Rubbing his chin, Soren thought for a moment.
The pieces were beginning to fall into place, in a way. It made sense now why the villagers had been eyeing him so suspiciously.
"So that's it." Soren muttered with a bitter smile, carefully shutting the door and stepping back inside.
They think I might be a threat?
It seemed he had arrived in the village at a delicate time. Pacing the cabin, he wondered what to do next.
The idea of getting involved in the village's problems made him uneasy. He didn't want to intrude or draw attention to himself, especially given the mess of his own circumstances.
Thinking back to the wagon where he had spent the previous night, Soren felt torn.
Should he just leave?
But how — and where — would he go? The truth was, the nagging feeling that he wasn't in any familiar place was only growing stronger.
Soren had already begun to mentally prepare for the possibility. Thinking about the wagon that had brought him here was already absurd enough — no one would believe him if he explained it. So was it really that far-fetched to think he might be in another world?
What had truly tipped him off were the elder's books.
During his first visit to the elder's home, he couldn't read any of their titles. He'd thought he might have been mistaken since the books were covered in dust, but when he returned for lunch and looked closer, he confirmed it: this wasn't a language he recognized.
Maybe he didn't know enough, but another point was that his city didn't have villages nearby. And according to the villagers, the nearest town was several days away by horseback.
No matter how foolish or desperate he was to pretend everything was fine—to cling to false hopes just to stay sane — he couldn't escape the truth forever.
And the truth was…
Did I die in my sleep back in my room? Soren touched his cheek, running his fingers over his face, as though trying to reconnect with his body.
That didn't seem to be the case.
Well, it doesn't matter anymore how I ended up here… He sighed, shifting his attention back to the real issue.
Maybe it was selfish not to want to get involved with the missing children, but who cared?
'Being a hero doesn't suit you, Soren…' His lips twisted into a self-deprecating smile.
And even if he wanted to help, what could he do? Walk through the village streets searching for the missing children? Knock on doors, asking if anyone had seen them recently?
That would only make him more suspicious.
Besides, someone responsible for making children disappear couldn't possibly be a good person. It was far too dangerous, and he had no real reason to take such a risk.
Who was to say there wasn't more than one person involved? What if they were already keeping an eye on him? Soren was like a lit torch arriving in the village — anything he did would draw attention.
He sighed, recalling the cloth of herbs the elder had given him to help him sleep.
The old man had said it was for those nights when sleep refused to come. Soren wondered if it might not be more useful now than ever.
He tucked the cloth carefully beneath his pillow.
'Man, things are getting strange...' he muttered. 'A bath to clear my head wouldn't hurt right about now.'
He was still in the same pajamas he had worn the night before, his skin sticky with a film of sweat and grime that clung to him like a second skin. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.
'Let's take a bath. You need to relax...'
During a casual conversation with the elder over lunch, Soren had been instructed on several things, including that the village well was the place to fetch water.
But listening alone hadn't been enough for him to memorize the directions. Leaving his cabin, he decided to return to the elder's house to ask, but before he could reach it, he ran into Durand, who seemed in an even fouler mood than before.
"How's it going, Durand?" Soren tried to sound friendly. "Could you tell me where I can bathe around here? I don't know where the well is."
Durand shot him a sour look, as if the question alone were a great inconvenience.
"A bath? If you want one, grab a bucket and head to the well that way." He jabbed a finger in a general direction, his tone thick with disdain.
"All right, I... I'll do that, then."
The older man simply shook his head and turned back to his business as Soren walked away.
He followed the direction Durand had indicated, and after rounding a final corner, he spotted the well.
It was situated in a more remote part of the village, not quite where he expected.
The well itself was a worn structure of gray stone, its surface mottled with moss and its cracks infiltrated by creeping roots. At the top was a rusted iron crank and a thick, frayed rope plunging into the well's dark depths.
But what caught his attention was the woman standing near it. From where he stood, Soren could only see her back as she leaned over the edge of the well, apparently attempting to draw water.
Soren halted his steps, watching her.
She didn't seem to notice him.
For a moment, he waited, assuming she'd finish what she was doing. But as the minutes stretched on, and she remained still, he began to feel uneasy.
Finally, unable to stand the strange silence, he decided to approach.
"Excuse me, ma'am. Will you be long? I need to fetch some water." he said, keeping his tone friendly, wary of startling her. It was just the two of them out here, and he didn't want to come across the wrong way.
The woman turned abruptly, revealing her face.
A pale face.
She stared at Soren, her wide eyes sending a chill through him as if he'd been encased in ice.
She appeared to be in her thirties, but her face looked as though she hadn't slept in days.
Her disheveled hair, a dull brown, hung in uneven strands around her face. Dark circles underlined her hollow eyes, emphasizing her pallor.
She wore a simple red dress, soiled and frayed at the edges, as though it had been worn over and over without a chance to change. Her bare feet were coated in dirt.
The woman darted her gaze around, as if checking to see if they were alone. When she seemed satisfied, she quickly closed the distance between them and grabbed Soren's hand with surprising force.
"You're not from the village, are you?" she asked in a low, urgent voice.
Startled by the sudden contact, Soren tried to pull his hand away, but her grip held firm.
"No, I just arrived this morning..." he admitted hesitantly, unwilling to hurt her by forcing himself free.
Her eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope. "Have you seen a girl? A child with brown hair, wearing a blue dress and carrying a cloth doll with stitched eyes?"
Her voice quivered with desperation.
Soren shook his head, concern evident on his face. "I'm sorry, I've only seen three children today, and none match that description."
"What about on your way to the village? Did you see anything?" she pressed, her expression growing more distressed.
"No..." He shook his head again.
The woman's shoulders slumped, and she let go of his hand. He noticed her fingers trembling as she stepped back, as if the hope had drained from her.
"She... she's lost." the woman murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "Please, if you see her, tell me."
Soren felt a strange unease watching her. He opened his mouth to offer some reassurance, but no words came. Instead, he simply nodded.
The woman gave him one last sorrowful look before stepping aside, leaving the well free for him to use.
"Thank you."
Soren sighed as he unwound the rope, lowering the bucket into the well. The creak of the crank echoed in his ears. As he worked, his eyes flicked back to the woman standing off to the side, her gaze distant and lost.
She wasn't looking at him anymore, as though she had no interest left in their interaction.
When he finally drew up the bucket, the cool, clear water glistened in the sunlight. He tipped it into another container and prepared to leave.
"Well... I'm off..." he said with a small nod, signaling his departure.
***
Author's Note: Enjoying the story? Join my Patreon at GhostPig58 and support me directly!