Red was frozen in shock for a long while as he stared at the villagers. Domeron frowned as he noticed the youth’s reaction, and he looked between the villagers and Red, unsure about what to do.
The initiative was taken off their hands, though, as one of the villagers approached them. It was an old man, as far as Red could see beneath the rot, dressed in an elder’s clothing. His skin was falling off his face, revealing putrid flesh and bone, where maggots and all sorts of corpse-eating creatures made their home. One of his eyes was completely consumed by the squirming things that occupied his eye socket, while the other was clouded in a grey haze.
Red was used to grisly sights, and this wasn’t the first time he saw a corpse or something resembling a zombie. However, the more he stared at the old man and the villagers, the more a feeling of wrongness set in the pit of his stomach. As the elder approached them, Red felt compelled to draw his sword and attack.
Thankfully, Aurelia snapped him out of his daze before he could do anything. “What is going on with you, Red?”
The youth frowned and stayed his hand. He closed his eyes and opened them again after counting to ten.
Unfortunately, nothing changed in front of him. The villagers still looked just like corpses, even the children, and this strange sensation continued to spread through his mind. Still, Red managed to hold himself back from doing anything rash.
By this point, the elder reached them, stopping a safe distance away.
The old man held a hand up in greeting. “Ho, there. What’s ye business is in our village?”
The voice of the elder sounded normal to Red’s ears, or at the very least, it didn’t seem like it came out of a corpse. For a moment, the youth wondered if what he was seeing wasn’t an illusion.
“We are just passing by in our travels and were looking to trade for some supplies.” Domeron took out a pouch from his waist and shook it. The heavy clinking of coin came from it.
Red saw what he thought was undisguised greed in the old man’s rotting face.
“What’re ye lookin' to buy?” the elder asked.
“Food. Something fresh maybe. We’ve had enough of rations for now.” Domeron said.
There was a prolonged silence as the old man stared at them.
“We can do that, aye.” The elder nodded. “But you’ll need to give yer weapons up while ye’re in our village.”
Red frowned, immediately against the idea. Domeron didn’t seem too happy about it, either.
“We’ll keep it inside a barrel in full view of ye.” the old man said, as if to assuage their worries. “Just can’t have ye carryin' them around the village, is all.”
Domeron still seemed hesitant, but in the end he nodded. “Keep the barrel near us at all times, or else we’ll assume you’re up to something.”
“Right.” The old man nodded before turning to look at the villagers gathered behind him. “One of ye, bring me a barrel!”
A young man, at least as far as Red could tell beneath his rotting flesh, ran off in a bolt towards a shed by the village side. He returned carrying a barrel soon after and approached the village elder wearily.
“Now, if ye’d please.” The elder waved at the barrel.
Domeron, still looking rather reluctant, unstrapped his sword from his waist before dropping it into the barrel. The young man nodded at him before moving over to Red.
“Yours too lad.” the elder said.
The youth hesitating, staring at the man holding the barrel in front of him. A maggot suddenly poked out of the hole where his nose was supposed to be, causing Red to frown and for his grip around his sword to tighten.
“Ah, he’s gonna kill me!” The young man jumped back in fright.
“Shut up, ye useless moron!” The elder glared at the man, before looking back at Domeron. “Tell your lad to give up his weapon or none of ye is enterin' our village!”
Domeron looked at Red with a hapless smile. “You don’t need it.”
“… I’m not too sure about that.” Red said.
“We’ve come this far already. Will you really let this stop us?”
Red hesitated until a few seconds later, he relented. He unstrapped his sword from his waist before holding it in front of him while looking at the young man.
The villager approached him with trembling hands until the barrel was right under the youth’s weapon. Red dropped it down, letting the sword tumble to the bottom.
The young man jumped back in relief, standing behind the elder. “What do we do with it now?”
“Carry it with us.” the elder said.
“Carry it? But-”
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“Follow me to my house.” The elder cut him off, looking back at Domeron and Red. His gaze lingered on Red, though. “Pull back yer hood, lad. We don’t take rogues in our village.”
Red hesitated once more, before Domeron gave him a meaningful gaze. The youth sighed before pulling back his hood. Immediately, a bunch of surprised gasps and whispers sounded from the village.
“His hair! It’s red!”
“Is he bleeding mum?”
“I heard people with red hairs are children of demons!”
Red frowned. He didn’t like gazes lingering on his person already, and this problem was exacerbated when the ones staring at you were all rotting corpses.
The elder also seemed surprised, but he didn’t say anything. “Follow me. We’ll talk inside me house.”
Domeron shook his head. “We would rather do this in the open if it’s all the same to you.”
The old man’s rotting expression seemed to twist into a frown. “Suspicious of us, are ye? Of a couple of harmless villagers?”
The swordsman smiled. “Helps us in our trade.”
The elder snorted. “We’ll do as ye please, then. Lad, go fetch us a few chairs!”
The young man seemed to be at a loss. “B-But I’m holding the barrel.”
“Just drop it and go get them!”
“R-Right!” The young man ran off to do as he was asked.
“What are ye lot lookin' at?!” The elder waved at the other villages. “Go bout your business already and stop gawkin'!”
The villagers all started to disperse with unwilling groans and expressions. Still, more than a few of them continued to stare at Red in curiosity, including every children.
The youth tried to not look straight at them for too long. For some reason, the rotting corpses of these children seemed to invoke a feeling of wrongness even stronger than in any of the adults. Red didn’t think it was because he was too sensitive, but he couldn’t identify the reason.
Still, he was eager to get this over and done with and leave the village as soon as possible.
The young man returned with three chairs soon enough, and set them near the center of the village by the well. Although the entire place seemed to be quite remote, from what Red could see, they had more than enough to survive on their own out here.
Whether it was water, crops, or a handful of cattle and other farm animals. Red wondered, however, how these people dealt with the native monsters of the forest, but he didn’t feel compelled to ask given the circumstances.
“So, what do ye want to know?” the elder asked as he sat down in a chair.
Domeron raised his eyebrows. “How did you know?”
The elder snorted. “City folk like ye always come around givin' excuses, like buyin' our food or grain. Bah, all nonsense! It’s clear ye want somethin' else! Lucky for ye, we trade in everythin' we can get our hands on, includin' information.”
Domeron hesitated and looked over at Red. It was clear that the youth’s attitude since entering the village had given the swordsman some doubt, and now he was unsure of how to proceed.
Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t like Red had any more of an idea about what was happening.
He just nodded at Domeron. “Ask him.”
Domeron looked back the elder. “Did someone disappear from your village over the last few years?”
The elder didn’t respond immediately, but Red felt his fluctuation change.
“That’s my pa!” A child’s voice came from the side.
Red looked over at what he thought was a girl listening in on their conversation from the side, along a group of children.
The elder glared at them. “None of these two are not your pa, you stupid brat!”
“No, you dumb oaf! I meant my pa disappeared!” The girl glared back at him.
“Ye bastards! Scram!” The old man raised his hand in a threatening manner, causing all the children to disperse in fear.
Domeron cleared his throat, getting the elder’s attention again.
The old man looked back at them and sighed in resignation. “That’s right, her pa disappeared some time ago.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” Domeron asked.
“Nothin' much to tell. He started goin' crazy, said he was hearin' voices and seein' things. Then one day, poof!” The elder shook his head. “Just gone!”
Domeron frowned. “Is that all you know?”
“… It’s all there is to say.”
Red didn’t even need to use his crimson sense to be able to tell the elder was lying.
The swordsman was able to tell as much. “Do you mind if we talk to the girl and her family, then? Anything we can learn about his disappearance would be of much value to us.”
“No way!” The elder denied them without hesitation. “I won’t let ye lot harass them anymore!”
Domeron was confused. “What do you mean by that?”
“You know what I mean!” The elder glared at them. “Ye and yer lot have been comin' around askin' about Gavin for weeks already. Now even his wife is gone! If you have any questions, get them through me!”
Red and Domeron were at a loss. They knew Rimold had investigated this village a while ago, but according to the elder’s words, it seemed like he wasn’t the only one asking around about this disappearance.
“Can you tell us about who came asking about this?” Domeron asked.
“What’s there to tell?” The elder spat on the ground. “Mercenaries, just like ye. Leather armor, weapons, ugly mugs… When we had enough of them, one of them threatened us. Told him to shove his sword up his arse and said I would call the guard if they came back, and that seemed to do it for them to stop harassin' our village…”
The elder’s description was too generic for them to associate to any person in specific. The town had a lot of mercenaries dressed and equipped in that exact manner, so Red and Domeron knew they wouldn’t get much of asking about that.
“Did they tell you their name?” Domeron asked.
“Nay.” The elder shook his head. “Told us nothin' at all other than what they were here for.”
A dead end for now, it would seem.
“You said his wife disappeared, too. What happened?” The swordsman followed up with another question.
“She came tellin' me that she was goin' to brin' him back.” The elder shook his head. “Nonsense, I told her. I said all the pressure was getting to her head, but she was dead-set on it. Said she knew he was out there, waitin' for her… Now she’s gone, and their poor lass is all by herself.”
Domeron and Red exchanged glances.
“When did this happen?” Domeron asked.
“A week or so.” the elder said. “Some folks wanted to search for her, but it was too dangerous. Couldn’t risk losin' more people.”
“Are these the only two people that disappeared?”
“Aye.” The elder nodded. “Why? Should I worry about more of my folk disappearin'?”
Domeron shook his head. “No, not if we have anything to say about it… Look, we are here to help.”
“Help? You?” The elder frowned with his rotting expression.
“Yes. We just want to figure out why these disappearances are happening, so we need all the information we can get… We would like to investigate this Gavin’s house and speak to his daughter.”
The elder shook his head. “The other ones were also spewin' the same nonsense when they first got here. When they didn’t get what they wanted, they started pushin' us around.”
“Well, our weapons are with you now, right? How can we push you around like this?”
The old man hesitated. “Ye do only have one arm, and the lad’s skin seems too soft for a fighter.”
Both Red and Domeron frowned at the same time.
“Fine.” The elder nodded. “Ye can speak to her, but only as long as I’m around.”
Domeron smiled. “You won’t regret it.”
Red was also relieved the elder relented, but on the other hand, he was reluctant about having to spend more time in here. It seemed like with every passing minute, the villager’s corpses continued to deteriorate, and while the youth wasn’t sure what that meant, he was certain it couldn’t mean anything good.