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Perceptive Ambience
Chapter 7: Continents and Centuries Away (2 / 3)

Chapter 7: Continents and Centuries Away (2 / 3)

The village's townspeople were curious but uncomfortable. Only a couple of them came. Two volunteered, and a third spoke up as a volunteer once the others spoke. Then the second recanted as they were chastised by a family member, making the third volunteer change their mind as well.

Going alone, even if the mayor had still lived there wouldn't have been acceptable, as he never invited anyone nor allowed anyone to invite themselves. At the time, every time, it seemed more of a personal choice and that the man simply kept to himself and remained professional, but after he stopped being seen by anyone, some questions arose.

No questions would have arisen if he was still present. He was intimidating, and that alone kept anyone's imagination from getting away from them. Gossip was to be used in regards to others, but not him.

Two others were chosen to go with the only volunteer remaining. The three men went onto the disused farmland no longer owned, and after the course of two hours finally got to the house itself. The wooden shutters over the windows clapped the walls, the whitewash against the house was stained with grass, and a the front door seemed to have never been closed.

They stayed together, still thinking there might be a chance that the mayor might still be there, despite the old woman motionless from her window chair saying that she saw the man leave with a fearful expression in his eyes in the dark of night. Walking inside, dust and dirt were everywhere, every drinking vessel was pulled out of the cupboards and smashed on the wooden floor in front of them, chamber pots no longer smelling but clearly hadn't been emptied even long before the property was vacated.

One of the men voiced that he feared they might find a body, which wasn't uncommon in those days, but there weren't any traces of wildlife having gone inside, which was odd. Their own fears began to grow, and-

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A door slammed.

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Two of the men nearly jumped out of their own boots. "It's just the wind", the one man that didn't jump said in consolation, though he didn't see anything move or feel any wind. He admitted to himself that even he wasn't as stoic as he had previously been.

Trying to step around the countless fragments of ceramic was impossible, especially for three men. Abandoning the kitchen and dining area, they moved into the sitting room. One of the windows had broken, though it looked as though it had done so from being slammed shut too quickly. Some of the ceramic shards they abandoned shortly before clattered, almost sounding like someone was coming towards them.

"Is anyone there?" one of the men shouted out. No reply came.

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They inspected the study, but it was just vellum on desks, some vellum on the floor, and two dried inkwells that showed any sign of anyone being in there if one would ignore the pristine but dusty furniture. From the far side of the house, though the echoing made it impossible to tell which of the two directions, all three men heard the sound of wood dragging against wood.

When they got to the final rooms, the fact that something was wrong became impossible to ignore. Their fear had been growing as they went through the house as random noises became more frequent and from less discernible locales...

The first man to be appointed to the team opened the door widely. There was a simple wooden bed there, though the quilt upon it was not properly positioned. Seeing and hearing nothing, the man went inside and looked to see if someone had fallen out of bed and passed away on the side he couldn't see. Since the one man went in and nothing happened, the other two felt confident they could do the same.

Nothing seemed to be there. The volunteer crouched down, and began to look under the bed, but there was a very close bang. "Be careful, don't bump the bed. I don't want it to collapse", said the man to the others.

Neither of the other men were close enough to have done so, as they realized upon checking each other's positioning. One of the men was looking out of the window at the time, standing even further away.

"You heard that, right?" the volunteer asked.

"Yes, it sounded-" but the second appointed man didn't finish his sentence.

The bed itself made another banging noise, this time jumping up from its position a good two inches. It didn't take the adults more than a moment to back themselves against whatever wall was closest to them, gazing at the bed in disbelieving shock.

It made itself jump a few times, nearly galloping in place as it bounced between each of its four legs. The men didn't need to be told a third time- it was time to go, and now. As they ran terrified from the building, the cupboards, doors, furniture, and drawers went wild. Small items that weren't already broken, and some that were, went flying across the rooms or down the hallways.

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A week later.

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She knew what she had to do. Her grandmother taught her, as hers had taught her. When things like this happened, the only thing to do was to bind it. It wouldn't defeat the entity, but it would at least alleviate the problem for a long time.

Rumors had gotten to her from the gossip of the local wives, retelling in hushed tones what their husbands had told them, with the promise of silence before a word would be said. Something happened there, though exactly what was unknown. For the mayor to run off like that, and not even sell his house? A man that everyone knew pinched his pennies? No, something definitely happened. The rumors answered at least one of the questions.

She waited until late afternoon, so dusk would set before she had arrived where someone else might see her. People had started to get stupid lately, and she didn't know how it would be considered. It was better safe than sorry. She looked down at the small sapling that she carried in a cheese cloth. It would protect everyone for a good long time.

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That night...

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The ritual complete, she took the sapling to the edge of the forest. There was a wide area of dirt that for some reason wasn't fertile even for grass, probably due to lack of the river able to moisten the earth so far. Though, there was one spot of grass in the middle, and that could serve as a good place to plant the tree. The adult trees had a lush canopy, though this tree having a monopoly of the immediate area's fertility would help it grow big and old.

Back at the house the ritual was performed in, all was silent.

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