Aiden stepped lightly in the forest's shadows, breathing in the fresh scents of moss and pine. It was a welcome change from the acrid smoke of the forge that seemed to permeate his hair and clothes. Out here, his thoughts moved in a different pattern to the ringing beat of the forge and the soft shuffle of pages in Bram's shop. In the forest, he moved carefully, listening to the whispers of other inhabitants moving about, and thrilled to the gentle touch of the wind as it flowed through the trees touched with a heavy, earthy aroma, plumerias, jasmine, mahogany, teak, and layers of animal musk.
Following a game trail to the first trap, Aiden listened to the soothing chorus of birdsong. It was one of the reasons he had taken up trapping the creatures instead of hunting them. While their plumage could be used for many things and sold well, he could earn a bit more with a small investment of time and some supplies by taming them to be pets. He admired their grace, colors, and voices that transformed the forest into a living choir. A trader had hinted that pets sometimes sold for more than feathers.
It had taken the better part of a year, but he'd found he liked catching, taming, and giving them to traders to sell in cities. In his mind, he saw it as a way to share a touch of the forest with peoples' lives. The traders paid two pence each for the small, colorful creatures and a whole silver chera for the larger parrots. More if they'd been trained to do small tricks like playing or coming on command.
He climbed up an ancient oak to the first of his traps meant to catch the small but colorful finches or pittas. He'd put the trap on a branch about fifteen feet off the forest floor which had a second branch he could stand on while tending to it. But rather than the sight of a fluttering, iridescent captive, the trap was sprung, empty, and the sweet bait gone.
Aiden pulled the trap down and cut the line, connecting it to the branch and releasing the branch to snap back. Another branch that must have been caught on it came free and, with a whipping snap, showered Aiden in drops of water caught in its leaves. Aiden stepped back at the surprisingly cold water and almost dropped the trap as he grabbed for support.
After he wiped his eyes clear, he laughed. The forest always had some surprises.
He took a more stable sitting position in the branches and looked the trap over. It was a wire cage trap he'd made to mimic the wood and twine traps. This one wouldn't be chewed through like the others. Yet, it was empty and the bait gone. How had this been done without leaving it open?
He whistled in amazement and glanced around. That's the third! Aiden's brow furrowed. He had set this trap just yesterday after devising the improved design and making it with small iron wires instead of twine. As a boy, he had learned to track, trap, and kill many animals with his parents and then even more from Finn, the village's master hunter. Aiden's traps never failed...well, until recently.
He climbed over to look at where the trap had been place. There were faint scuff marks in the branch's bark just above where the trap had been mounted. That might mean something with strong, sharp nails had been tampering with the trap from the outside, not the inside. The bait, a mix of seeds and berries, was gone. But there were no feathers, no signs of struggle. Had the trap caught something and then been opened? The locked door indicated no. The trap had been robbed and then sprung.
Aiden felt the first coils of frustration in his gut. Are birds outsmarting me?
He took the trap with him to the second trap.
The second trap was for bigger birds and had a door that would swing shut and lock when a bird stepped inside to get to the bait. This trap was also sprung, except a handful of creeping vine stems about a foot long each had been woven into the doorway, preventing it from closing and latching. The trap was too large to be overcome by whatever means the smaller one had but had still been thoroughly defeated. The bait was gone, and no bird to show for it. He pulled the entangling vines out of the trap door. A smaller vine broke free as he cleaned the vines from the trap, snapping away, clearly being under tension. Aiden looked up to see where it went just in time to get a face full of water.
There was a soft bird call from somewhere above him that didn't sound like any bird he knew. Only this call seemed to oscillate and it sounded more like laughter than a bird call.
Wiping his face clear of water again, he looked for the source of the unusual bird laughter. But, it went silent the moment he could see clearly.
Aiden waited and watched.
Nothing.
Finally, he reset the trap and climbed down. He'd promised a parrot to a traveling merchant and still didn't have it. If this kept up, he wouldn't have one.
Aiden's jaw tightened. He checked the remaining three smaller traps. Each one was the same: bait gone, trap empty. Except now he was looking for more traps and disabled three more water traps. They were all crude, made with the simplest of materials, none dangerous or difficult to spot. It was no longer coincidence or luck. Something, or someone, was deliberately freeing his quarry, and it was smart enough to set up some countertraps. But who or, more interesting, what?
Sitting on a wide branch leaning against the tree trunk by the last trap he tried to puzzle out what to do next. The shadows were stretching but the early evening sky was still light, there were about four hours of good light left.
Maybe I should reset the traps and then watch them from a blind. He thought.
But, no, he had work to do in the smithy and couldn't spend all night trying to find out what was going on.
A soft flutter of wings and a flash of color overhead caught his attention. Glancing up, expecting to see a finch or a sunbird, his breath caught at the flash of vibrant, shimmering feathers, a hypnotic dance of emerald, sapphire, and crimson.
What kind of bird is that?
Aiden straightened, his keen eyes scouring the canopy until he spotted a piece of it. It was a little smaller than a crow, a bird like none he had ever seen. And it was purposefully hiding. It leaned out and regarded him with bright, clever eyes. Seeing him looking back, it chirped a bell-like sound and darted off to the northeast, away from the village and deeper into the forest. Its dazzling plumage pulsed with a life all its own, brighter than the long shadows of the canopy in the late afternoon could explain.
Aiden sat motionless for several seconds, watching the bird's acrobatic flight. It moved with incredible speed, soon vanishing into the cover of the trees. He slid off the branch to climb to the forest floor. He took stock of the situation. It was still early evening; he wasn't all that far from the village. He had a few hours of daylight left. Aiden wasn't worried about getting lost in the forest. He'd been moving through the woods since before his earliest memory. His father wouldn't be back this evening, so no one would be worried even if he stayed out late.
I should still take precautions. He cautioned himself, remembering all the advice from Finn and even his natural father so long ago.
He took out a bit of paper and pencil from his pouch. Using his graphite pencil, he wrote which direction he was going and that he expected to be back before dawn. Placing the paper into one of his traps, he dangled the traps from one of the trees, which would be easily seen if someone came looking. Pulling out a piece of white chalk he used in the smithy to mark the projects, he marked a tree and set off in the direction the bird had gone.
Two things pulled at him beyond just trying to track that unusual bird. One, there were some old ruins in that direction which he liked exploring, and two it had been in those ruins he'd found the broken silver token. There was just enough light left to do a little exploring, and it would be a full moon, so getting back wouldn't be difficult either.
Alright, you feathered fiend, Aiden thought, a determined glint in his eye. You want to play games? Let's see where you went, and maybe I can turn the tables on you.
As Aiden ventured deeper into the forest, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mingling with the tingling apprehension in his gut. The ancient ruins hidden within these woods had always beckoned to him, their secrets whispered on the wind like ghostly echoes of a forgotten age.
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An hour later, he hadn't seen any other sign of the unusual bird. But, he came to the ancient moss-covered broken line of standing stones that he imagined were the remains of a border wall for the old ruins. Hopping over the wall, he moved through the tumbled blocks and overgrown passages toward the central area, which was marked by an open space still clear of plants and trees. Twelve massive stones stood in a large circle around a circular glade. And in the forest around them were the remains of stone buildings or stone walls. What had been here so long ago was beyond remembrance.
Aiden had explored them many times since he'd found them a year ago.
He ignored the now familiar stone circle and moved south across a small stream to the largest building he'd found so far. It had been two or three stories tall. And it was connected to what had to be the wall, but only a small three foot tall section still stood and went some thirty feet in a straight line to the west. There were fallen stones on both sides that had clearly been part of the wall. The bones of a large tree that had tumbled in some storm long ago lay through a part of the wall, the most likely thing to have caused the wall to finally fall so completely apart.
It was inside this building he'd found the silver token.
He took a moment to check for bear or wolf sign. It was still odd that in all the explorations of these ruins, he'd never found any sign of the typical forest predators. It seemed even the smaller forest creatures, except for the birds, stayed away from these ruins. Finding no signs of anything significant having been around, he climbed over the broken wall and into the building's interior. He'd found the silver token on the upper level but hadn't had time to explore the lower area.
With the bit of light he could see, there wasn't much to explore. All he could see was a small space filled with the crumbled remains of the stonework from above. Exiting, he moved around on the outside and climbed in a hole in the far side. This side had a way through the lower floor, a stone staircase leading down. He took time to inspect the construction. A few steps down, it grew too dark to see, but the moss and plants seemed to lessen on the steps further down.
He pulled his little camping candle lantern from his pouch. It took a few strikes on the flint but he got the candle lit and closed the glass door of the lantern to keep the breeze from blowing out his light. Holding it high, he slowly moved down the stairs. The moss made a soft carpet on the first steps leading down, then it thinned for a couple more, and past that lay bare dry gray stonework. With each step, he checked the next step for stability, the walls, and the ceiling for any sign of possible collapse. The stairs led a surprising distance underground, and as he moved, the steps became more and more clean. The musty smells of the forest faded behind him until he felt only the simple chill of being in a deep underground chamber and the smell of dry old stone.
The final steps and walls were polished smooth and clean. No dirt or dust rested on the stone steps. Aiden's own foot prints left bits of dirt and flakes of green moss on the clean steps.
The stairs ended in a small alcove with a pair of doors made of a black material. He touched the door; it was cold, not the cold of metal nor the shallow warmth of an old hardwood. The right door hung half open. The hinges caught his attention as he examined the doors; they were smooth and cleanly inset into the door frame and doors. There were door hangers for the open door, which looked strong and well-made. There were no screws or nails, only smooth rectangular plates with interleaved hinges to connect the door to the frame.
He stepped close, held his light past the open door, and saw some kind of inlaid pattern on the floor. Crouching he saw there was a pair of concentric circles of silver in the polished smooth deep blue stone floor. But, what caught his attention was that the two circles formed a band in which he recognized the symbols that matched those on the reverse of the silver token he'd found.
Standing, he slowly stepped into the room. His light barely lit the space, but he could make out it was a smallish circular room, maybe eight feet across. The two inlaid bands and symbols formed an inner circle about six feet in diameter. In the center of the room, a pile of something about three feet tall, dark, and dusty sat. There were no other apparent doors.
Aiden moved in closer and crouched down to examine the pile. At first, he couldn't figure it out. But, when he gingerly reached out to touch it, it clattered to the floor sideways, revealing itself as a human skeleton in rotted clothing.
Aiden screamed and lurched back, dropping his lantern. With a loud crash of broken glass and bouncing metal, he was plunged into darkness.
Off balance, he fell sideways, trying to catch himself in the dark. His head hit the floor hard, and may have been dazed for a minute or two. With the pain radiating through his head, he blinked, trying to get his breathing under control. Stars floated before him in the dark.
He felt the back of his head, cursing his stupid reaction. A dead person was no threat, and he knew it. He was going to have a heck of a bump.
Feeling around to shift his pouch, he carefully sat up and looked around uselessly. He moved his hands around carefully, feeling for broken glass or other dangers until he found the remains of his lantern. It wasn't expensive, but it wasn't cheap either. He cursed, looking for the pieces until he found the hot wax and the remains of the small candle. Crossing his legs, he started rummaging in his pouch for the flint and steel.
The back of his head had to have been hit hard because he was still seeing stars. Ten stars flickered dimly in the air.
Stopping, he blinked and put his hands in front of his eyes. He wasn't seeing stars in his head; he was seeing stars in the room. His eyes had adjusted slightly to the dimmer light, and ten glowing five-point stars about the size of his thumbnail were arranged in a circle. They were slowly circling the room. As he watched their movements and flicking light, he realized they were not flickering but flat as paper and spinning. When their spin made them sideways to his eyes, they appeared to blink out. This is what was causing the flickering effect. They were golden points of light, not even as bright as a firefly, but together, they were almost a tenth of a candle's strength.
Standing, he found they were all at the same height, just above his head, maybe seven feet in the air, and spaced evenly in a circle around the area. He realized with a start they were over the inscribed circle. Carefully, he reached out to feel one. It had no substance at all. No heat nor cold came from them. His hand could pass through them easily, and momentarily, they'd be inside of his hand. But, he felt nothing. Oddly, he could see the light coming from inside his hand. As he moved, the light would shine brighter, showing bone and blood vessel shadows.
The light was still not good enough, so he relit his candle. Then, he used the base of the lantern to hold the candle, and with three of the panes still mostly in place, it would be enough to get out.
With the candle lit, the stars were practically invisible, but knowing they were there, he could see them clearly.
Moving to the skeleton, he knelt but didn't touch it. He couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. Looking closer he realized it probably wasn't a human after all, it wasn't bone white, but made of a blueish crystal. This person had been kneeling when they'd died and then just slowly deteriorated undisturbed until now. The clothes were rotted and practically gone. The bones were blue crystal, but there was no hint of skin or hair.
That made no sense. There should be a dedicated framework of skin and hair to match the clothing. The clothing looked like it should just fall apart, but it strangely held together.
Gaining a bit more courage, Aiden lifted the ragged edges of the rotted cloak. The person had some cloth armor with silver studs, only the tattered armor was now so thread bare he was sure he could just pluck the silver studs without any resistance. A set of dried leather belts and clips held a short sword. Except the short sword's leather-wrapped handle looked practically new compared to the dried and twisted leather sheath and belt.
Aiden pulled the short sword free. It slide out of the sheath easily. But, it shouldn't have, the dried leather sheath should have shrunk around it to grip it tightly.
The sword was made of good spring steel and clean lines, with a trefoil blade, and it looked as if it had just been forged. There was a rotted coin purse with six pence, twenty-two silver chera, and five silver crosses. The coins looked exactly like the coins he used every day. Should the coins be aged or different if this place was so ancient?
The blade had to be worth at least three hundred silver crosses. If he took the silver studs, there would probably be another ten ounces of silver. This person had been very wealthy indeed.
But why was this person here? And what did they die of?
He thought about taking the silver studs. But, although the coins and the sword seemed okay, something felt wrong about pulling apart this person's armor for its bits and bobs. He'd already gotten far more than he'd ever held at once. Maybe he could return with a spade and dig a proper grave for this person.
He moved to stand, putting his hands down to push up from the floor when his hand was pressed into something soft with beads or heavy embroidery. He looked down and found a small dark brown alms purse that had probably been around this person's neck. The purse was made of soft leather with a burned pattern and embellished with embroidery and wooden beads. Unlike the sword, it looked old and heavily worn; however, like the sword, it wasn't damaged by time. He picked it up, and its decorated pattern had a circle band with the same symbols as those inlaid into the floor here and on the half-silver token he and Bram had been looking into. In the center of the circle was a unique symbol holding one five-point star at its center.
He put the sword in his belt, the coins in his coin purse, and the alms purse into his pouch. Looking around the room, he started to leave but stopped.
Turning back, he spoke softly. "I'll see about getting you a proper burial."
He then climbed back up the stairs to the waning light of evening. As he climbed out of the hole in the side of the building, he heard a squawk of surprise. His eyes darted up in time to see a flash of red and emerald feathers as that odd bird fled into the canopy from the top of a flat stone a few feet away. Looking back down at the flat stone that had been part of the building long ago, there was a set of three dark purple wild orchid blossoms laid in a row with a single golden five-petal wildflower on top.