The days that followed were full of hope.
Kids ran along pristine cobblestone streets. In front of their stalls, merchants swept with pride, lining up their merchandise in tidy rows. Fresh water gushed from the fountain, and the aroma of herbs and roasted grains wafted through the air. Even the rough-and-tumble blacksmith Garren had started humming a song as he worked on his forge.
It was a time of quieter burdens and little pleasures. The people had a sense of dignity and purpose because of the homes, which were now stronger and built in a fair and straight manner. Walls were no longer mentioned. They mentioned gardens and Celebration.
Ethan watched with cautious optimism as it happened. Maybe, he thought, they were really starting over.
Then there was silence.
It started out innocently. Lina was informed by a woman that she hadn't noticed any sparrows building their nests beneath her eaves that morning. A boy tugged on his father's sleeve and asked why the frogs by the river had stopped croaking. "My flock has become restless," muttered a shepherd.
Nobody gave it much thought at first.
But the silence grew more profound.
Ethan also noticed it by the middle of the week. The constant buzz of life, the rustling of leaves, the distant birdsong, the insects was no longer there. Unnaturally, the forest remained motionless. The trees were no longer moved by wind.
Even the fountain seemed too loud to Ethan as he stood by himself in the square one morning. He felt as though he was standing in a sealed room as the silence pressed down on him.
As he and Lina patrolled the new homes' perimeter, he brought it up.
"The world seems to be holding its breath," he remarked.
She nodded slowly but remained silent.
The whispers started that night.
In the tavern, old men leaned close over mugs of cider, speaking in hushed tones. Farmers drew Ethan aside to tell him stories about cattle refusing to graze close to the woods, wolves howling in the daytime, and birds flying south too early.
The elders then arrived.
Garren was among them, his face tense, as they gathered in the center hall. Using a name Ethan had never heard, he said grimly, "It's the Shattering Silence."
Mave, the herb-woman, said in a low voice, "An old story." "Before your people arrived. Something is waking when the forest becomes silent and the sky grows dimmer. Something profound.
Another whispered, "It happened once before. "A long time ago. Before the east was overrun by beasts. Before the old barons' walls was constructed too late.
Ethan scowled. Do you think this goes beyond a simple migration? A change in the weather?
"Rabbits don't come into the hearth because of the weather." Garren snaped, "It's fear."
Ethan peered out the open door. The street lamps flickered. Dogs were howling once more, but only in brief outbursts, as though they were afraid to make noise for very long.
Ethan whispered, "You mentioned earlier that you were afraid of raiders." "But this isn't the same."
Garren's eyes grew serious. Worse than sword-wielding men. The land doesn't forget. The animals are stirred. And there won't be much of it left if the town doesn't prepare itself.
The room fell into a thick silence. The firewood didn't crackle either.
Ethan watched the forest line that night from the roof of the city hall. A chilly, unfamiliar wind blew across his face. Clouds hovered low in the distance, their bellies glowing a faint red in the darkness.
He didn't sleep.
By dawn, he had made his decision.
He sounded the alarm.
Confused and muttering, people gathered in the square. Youngsters held on to their moms. Merchants left their stalls half-set.
Ethan ascended the ancient stone steps near the fountain, where he had been standing when he spoke to them weeks prior. He started by saying,
"We don't know what's coming, but something is." The terrain is shifting. The atmosphere is changing. And we cannot overlook it.
He glanced at the people, at Lina at his side, at Garren close to the front, at the stonemasons, carpenters, and weavers who had already rebuilt so much.
"We have constructed houses. Our water has been cleaned. We have strengthened one another. We have to defend it now.
He looked over at Garren. "Get the old iron going. We'll need anything you have, like tools, blades, and nails.
"To defend the wall?" someone inquired.
Ethan gave a headshake. "To defend us." The wall might hold. However, we will.
No applause was heard. Just nods. Quite resolve.
And beneath that quiet, a low, ancient hum reverberated beneath their feet.
The beasts had not yet come. However, they would.