The Nightfolk (1)

His eyes were getting used to the light out there. However, he could already see the silhouettes of a dozen men walking towards the east. Strange looking men, he thought for a while, searching in his memory for he never saw any like those. Very short men, perhaps half of his height, most of them heavily bearded with shiny pieces of metal around their bodies. Most of them carried weapons he never saw before. A long stave – perhaps too long for their height, he thought – with a metal piece that resembled a woodcraft tool, although these seemed capable of splitting a man’s head so big they were.

It was a bright day out there. Sky was blue as far as his eyes could see. Only a few white clouds here and there. It was close to midday for the short men shadow was small. And he thought those men must be tough for they were carrying too much weight at that warm day. And not a sign of weakness those men showed. They were talking in a language he could not understand. They were laughing loud, and he thought that even the Goddess would hear that from her sanctuary in the sky. But they kept moving east, faster then he expected for men with such short legs.

He followed them for as far as he could along the border of his homeland, but a few hours later they turned north, away from him. For a moment he thought of stepping out, but the protection of the darkness would be gone, and he would not dare go anywhere without it. He waited for two days expecting them to come back. In vain. And so he decided to go back, and report to the others what he have seen. Perhaps the Oracles could bring some clearance of who those men were. And what were they doing so close to their homeland.