Elara watched Del walk off with a small pang of misgiving in her gut and also a rising curiosity, ready to explore this village in her own way. A part of her was concerned, that with the feelings seen in some about her race, she might be met with more open hostility without Del’s presence, but she also wanted to prove her own worth to this investigation. First stop, she thought. The market. If this place was anything like the markets in her own Hometree then it would be a hub of information, gossip, and rumour.

As she had thought, the market was indeed buzzing about the latest news. Emily was a well-liked member of the community and living and working in the elder's house just behind the stalls, her absence was deeply felt. At first, being on her own, Elara was treated with a mix of interest and caution. Elves were very rare in this rural part of the land as most trade between them and the humans went along the main routes that skirted the mountains between. In fact, as far as any of the villagers here knew, she was the first to travel the pass across to the high hills and down to Stonebridge. Because of this Elara was not surprised to find herself the subject of much subtle and at times quite overt questioning.

‘I guess it's only fair, we arrived at a rather troubled time and their history with my kind is not entirely wholesome’ she considers as she talks.

As she moves from stall to stall, taking in the smells of freshly baked bread, steaming meat pies and sweet citrusy fruits; she admires the neatly cut linens and well-crafted tools that filled many stalls. Examining goods and the occasional purchase of a sweetmeat to nibble on was a great way to initiate conversation. Often begun by the holder’s casual questioning of where she hailed from and if she found the village to her liking. One or two, though courteous as any trader to a potential customer, could not hide the mistrust in their eyes or the way money boxes were carefully closed as she approached. Inwardly it hurt, as she knew she had done nothing to garner such a view, she accepted that there were always going to be those who found it hard to accept those who were different in their limited view of the world.

Ultimately although many had opinions, everything ranging from a rogue witch or warlock in the area to bears or wolves raiding the village; even one suggested that Paolo may not be as innocent as he seems, though everyone else appeared to hold him in high esteem. Unfortunately, many of the rumours could be completely discounted. There was no evidence to support wild animals and it was more likely to be human or other sentient entities responsible. Perhaps hiding in plain sight as just another villager going about their life. Paolo was the least likely suspect. His obvious distress that morning would have been hard to fake in her opinion. Besides, she had always had a good way with judging people's character. He felt like a good man in the way that Del also felt to have a good heart though he did at times seem as naïve as a newborn in his strange lack of knowledge about the wider world. She smiled inwardly at the thought of Del and hoped he was able to get some answers from Vita. One thing that she was able to find in her meander through the market, was the prevalence in use of Listwort around the town. If it wasn’t for the fact that she knew it had no addictive properties, she could well have been more concerned than just curious at this.

Unable to gather any more real clues in the market she eventually moved on, visiting workshops and talking with some of the older kids running errands around the place. The carpenter's workshop had the heady scent of fresh-cut timber and fine sawdust floated as sparkling motes in the air. As she chatted with Joe, the village joiner, she discovered that Will, one of the missing, was his nephew. Apparently, he had finished his work for the day as a baker's hand and was left to go gather some wood for the hearth. Will had spent three days out looking for him with not even a scuff of dirt to give a sign of what happened. All he found was his billeting axe lying on the ground.

“It’s lucky he had no wife nor sprouts yet,” Joe said sadly. “None left to struggle to find means with him gone.”

As she talked to more and more people around the town, Elara noticed this strange coincidence, or maybe not so much, as all of those who had vanished were single with no dependents. Was the person responsible, targeting this type of villager only or was it just happenstance?

Unable to gain any further information, just more and often wilder rumours, Elara moved on around the village.

“Quick, hide.” She hears loudly whispered from up ahead. Looking she quickly picks out half a dozen or so young children scattering with muffled giggles into the bushes up ahead. One has his eyes tight shut with his small hands covering them, he starts counting loudly and then, with a cry of “Dix”, and a few muffled squeals from hidden youngsters, he uncovers his eyes and looks about.

Elara is transported back in her mind to her own carefree days what seems like so long ago. When pressures of her own responsibilities didn’t weigh her down and make her do the unthinkable.

‘Was running from it the real answer or just delaying the inevitable’ she thought with a frown. Still that was a problem for another day, hopefully one that was far in her future.

The boy had found most of his giggling friends with only the one lying on a shed roof yet to be discovered. As Elara approached she was soon surrounded by the boisterous bunch, all of them clamouring with excited questions and comments.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“You came in the other day.”

“You have pretty eyes.”

“Can I play with your bow?”

“Why are your ears pointy?”

“Do you know the night man?”

That last made her stop short in her attempts to answer the multifarious eager questions. She looked at the little girl who asked it, and crouched down to get on an better level with her. When she did, she could see that the girl was about 7, maybe 8 with rich auburn hair braided into two plaits, deep green eyes and a little button nose.

“Don’t listen to her,” one of the boys says. “She makes up stories.”

Ignoring the others, much to their disappointment Elara gives the girl a warm smile.

“Hello,” She says gently. “I’m Elara, what's your name?”

The girl scuffs her shoe nervously on the ground. “Naomi” she answers quietly.

“Well Naomi, why don’t you and I have a little talk about the night man.” She pulls out a small bag of sweet treats from the market and offers one to Naomi before passing the bag to the other children to share.

The child considers Elara carefully as she chews on her sweet, a small dribble of saliva escaping to run down her chin.

“You have pretty eyes.” She says.

“Thank you, Naomi, so do you,” Elara smiles encouragingly. “So who is this night man. Have you seen him?”

The girl gives a little nervous nod, her eyes flitting towards her busily chomping friends, who, bored with the conversation are beginning to drift off.

Elara steps to a low wall and sits, patting the wall to invite Naomi to join her, which, with a look at her departing friends, she does.

“I guess they don’t know the night man do they?” Elara asks. “I don’t either, but I think I might be looking for him.” Sneaking out another sweet she passes it to the girl once she was sure the rest were out of sight. After all, she did want some left to enjoy herself later on.

“I saw him,” She answered, tucking the sweet into her mouth. “I really did, though they don’t believe me. They didn’t believe me when I said a fox was coming to steal the chickens neither. But it still came.” She stated indignantly. “They just say I make up stories.”

She stood up and glared at Elara daring her to disagree with her.

“I don’t make things up. I see them and when I wake up, I remember.” With a cute stamp of her little foot, she plops back down on the wall.

Elara ponders her words for a moment.

Cautiously she asks. “You see them when you sleep? Like in a dream?”

The girl gives a little nod, looking embarrassed to admit such a thing.

“Yes.” She quietly admits. “That’s why they don’t believe me, says I am just making things up.”

“I believe you,” Elara says. The beaming smile from Naomi could have lit up the night sky.

“Ok Naomi, I’ll tell you what we need to do,” Elara stands and offers her hand to the small girl. “Let’s you and me go talk to someone who will also believe you. Would you like that?”

With a little nod the girl jumps from the wall and takes a firm grip on Elara’s hand.

“Where are we going?” She asks. “Only I can’t go far and I’m not allowed out of the village gates yet.”

“No, not far Naomi,” replies Elara. “We are going to go have a talk with Paolo.”

Naomi’s mouth opens in a big ‘Oh’ and she grips Elara’s hand even tighter.

“It’s alright,” Elara says with a musical little laugh. “He is a friend of mine.”

Passing through the market they get a few idle stares and she can see people clearly wondering but too polite to ask. But as it's obvious that Naomi is happily trotting along and not upset, she gets no direct confrontation as they pass through. Several yards back she can sense the other children from the group are following on watching with interest.

Once through the gates, leaving the onlookers in their wake, she enters the elders residence and passes through the quiet front office, and to the open door of the room beyond where she can see Paolo sat at his desk, head in his hands.

“Are you busy?” She asks as he looks up.

Paolo just shrugs his shoulders, his face distressed and looks around.

“I can’t seem to get my mind on things today. Emily…” He trails off sadly.

Elara nods in understanding. She sits and motions for the girl to join her, who nervously climbs on her lap and semi-hides herself in Elara’s shoulder.

“This is Naomi, you probably know her, but she has something very interesting to tell us.” Elara introduces.

“Yes I know her, one of the Cooper children aren’t you?” He asks, to which she shyly nods.

“I think Naomi is a Dreamwalker,” explains Elara and seeing the confused look on Paolo’s face goes on to explain. “A Dreamwalker is someone gifted with the ability to walk the astral, the space between waking and sleeping, life and death. It’s a rare talent but it comes out in young childhood. If encouraged and not suppressed, Dreamwalkers can become powerful seers and scryers as they grow up. If they are ridiculed or shunned the gift often departs into the ether and never develops, being left behind as childhood ends.”

Paolo looks a mix of incredulous and sceptical. “You believe Naomi to have this gift?”

“Yes, she has seen things and remembers them when she wakes. As often the case, these visions are generally mocked as made up, but she saw foxes before they raided the chicken coops and I am sure she has seen other things as well that have been equally dismissed a sidle childish chatter.” Naomi nods at that.

Elara could see she had Paolo’s full attention now.

“And, what is more, she has seen the Night Man.”

Paolo almost stands from his chair, his hands pressed hard into the desk. As he takes a breath to speak, they hear running footsteps approaching the building.

Out of breath and looking totally stressed, Dell bursts into the room.

“Vita’s gone,” he pants. “She’s been taken.”