The Autumn Woods were peaceful. But that didn’t stop retired General Astrati from his day-long perimeter walks. Despite the widespread opinion that there was no need for such a constant search for danger and enemies, Astrati did it anyway. He claimed it was good for his knees. This allowed everyone to believe that he secretly took the walks to be alone. But how could a soldier so easily retire after being vigilant most of his life? You cannot turn it off. It only made sense to him to offer his best skills to the group: his watchfulness, his paranoia, his darksight, and his wariness. Honestly, he was being a realist. Peace has to be protected. Boundaries must be enforced. They didn’t understand vigilance.
Astrati, they said, you get to be at peace too.
They’d all served their times, done their duties, been the advisors to Kings, been the mentors to magicians, the wise consultants for quests, the champions—the Generals.
This was years ago.
Now, they had each moved to the Autumn Woods to have lasting peace in their older years, far from the cities, far from the villages and towns, deep in the safety of a thicket of bushes and trees with old roots that twisted and tangled through the hollows.
They were entitled to rest, weren’t they? Let the Woods ward the strangers away, let the scary stories spread. How can we be at peace, when we look for danger?
However, Astrati was unconvinced of this “perpetual safety.” Sometimes good people, people who have done great good in the world, feel entitled to rest and peace, but unfortunately, he knew it didn’t always work that way. He’d seen many, many places destroyed by war. If his friends would not be vigilant, he would be vigilant for them.
During the day, he walked as quiet as a scout; at night, he slept like two soldiers—one asleep and one awake.
One night, a-ha, his steadfastness was rewarded with danger. He was startled by unfamiliar voices. Safely beneath a clusterberry bush’s thorny branches, he heard many voices, and huffs, and smelled a large beast. No, a large group. They passed his way. Bodies shuffled next to him. In the darkness, his cat eyes made out a hand, a leg, a sandal, but the branches obscured most of them, and he couldn’t count them. But more than anything, he recognized the familiar sound of marching, the rhythm of formation, of soldiers.
He knew these sounds, their feet hitting the dirt together, the clank of metal weapons against buckles, the smell of old leather armor. The music of their strides. Where were they headed? Why so many traveling through the middle of the woods? The woods were wide. There were paths designed to stay on the outskirts of the woods—never coming in this deep. Anyone brave enough to come in had a path that would take them around and out. But no troop needed to go through the woods unless they were trying to stay out of sight. Who were they hiding from?
The soldiers stopped; several of them surrounded the clusterberry bush. Astrati tensed. Big hands pushed through the leaves and picked the berries, grabbing fistfuls. He could hear the soldiers eating. The fingers got closer. Astrati raised his daggers and jabbed quickly upward, pretending to be thorns.
The yelp caused all the hands to draw back. He thought he might have blown his hiding place. He was ready to fight them all. Did he still have the skills? Thank the Moon for all those perimeter walks! He had stamina.
But then, a loud voice commanded them, and they left the bushes and started walking again, this time off the trail. He listened to their footfalls snapping branches and crushing leaves on the ground.
Astrati licked his dagger and tasted the blood of orcs.
Orcs. He’d seen firsthand the destruction caused by Orcan Armies. Aggressive, ruthless in battle, sometimes mercenaries, and now a troop of them marching directly into the Autumn Woods. What did they want? What was their mission? He needed to find out, but first, he needed to warn his friends. He slipped out of the bushes and ran into the shadows.
“Protect the Autumn Woods!” is an illustrated story by Jerome Stueart in 33 short flash fiction chapters. The story features D&D-inspired magic-using forest animals who fight to protect their homes. This story was at first a response to a prompt list created by Jenn Reese and Deva Fagan for an October Art Challenge in 2021. You can now read all 33 parts of the story, “Protect the Autumn Woods” with the search term, #AutumnWoods. “Protect the Autumn Woods!” Art Show at the Dayton Society of Artists (48 High Street, Dayton, OH) from November 1 — December 15 2024.
“Protect the Autumn Woods!” is adjacent to a larger show of amazing Dayton Artists, “Small, but Mighty.” Come see all of the art, any weekend, Friday 12-5, Saturday 12-5 to experience the art yourself.
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