《Awakening - Book 1 of Beyond Extinction》


 Chapter 1. The day after the night before

    Have you ever had one of those days?


    Mine seem to happen all too often, usually late at night when sleep evades me and the pain won¡¯t subside. Tonight was no different.


    With a sigh, I grabbed a coffee and turned on my laptop. Distraction can be a good way to take life¡¯s annoyances off my mind and help me relax.


    Who am I, well, nobody really; call me Del if you like. I¡¯m just your average mug, worn down by hypocrisy, age, and a youth not too wild, but definitely misspent.


    I wasn¡¯t always the wreck you see now. Once, I could walk without a stick. Yay me! There was a time when I had more friends, real ones, not the fake fools who clutter my inbox and social media profiles. Once, my days didn¡¯t revolve around which painkiller wouldn¡¯t really do anything to ease the ever-present throb.


    Damn.


    ¡®Stop it, Del!¡¯


    I¡¯m beginning to sound like some pathetic whinging mess. Life¡¯s a shit, no denying that, but it¡¯s not the shit you get; it¡¯s how you make the best use of it that counts. Bloody hell, I¡¯m bored; my mind is wandering down all sorts of paths I refuse to tread.


    ¡®Now, where was I.¡¯


    Nothing interesting in my email. Looks like a Nigerian prince wants to give me a wedge of cash to sell his diamonds. That¡¯s nice.


    Good old social media. I see my local pub has karaoke coming up; maybe I will show my face and torture a few eardrums. Some family member I can¡¯t remember had a kid. ¡®Damn thing looks ugly as hell.¡¯ They always do just after they get squeezed out into this unforgiving world.


    This post looks interesting, hmm, life skills, a free course. I click, look. Nope, definitely not for me, and the page is so full of ads and banners. These days the internet is more links than information.


    I start randomly clicking: scammers abound, ads for cars I don¡¯t want and certainly can¡¯t afford. ¡°Find your perfect partner?¡± No thanks. ¡®Nice tits, though.¡¯


    The internet is a deep, dark hole into dreams, and often nightmares. Promises and platitudes. A place where every desire and need can be pandered to, promised, and then whipped away faster than you can count your cash.


    I sip my coffee. ¡®Bah, cold.¡¯ Ah well, it¡¯s wet and bitter like a cold January morning. I can appreciate that. And time flies when you¡¯re having fun, so they say.


    Fun, yeah right.


    OK, so what¡¯s this next click going to bring me? Nothing apparently. I click again on another, nope: ¡®404 error page not found¡¯. ¡®Got to love the net.¡¯


    Are You Good Enough, the next banner reads. Yeah sure, good enough to waste my nights in mindless clickbait and eye candy.


    I click it anyway.


    Anything to while away another minute or hour and take the throb in my legs off my mind. Well, at least it¡¯s a decently designed site. A bit retro-looking, with quiet background music that reminds me of something I may have heard in a movie sometime.


    I don¡¯t normally stay on pages long. Just read a bit here and there, a quick scan, check out an image or two, and then move on to the next step along the path of distraction.


    For some reason, this one held me. It was like a quiz and IQ test wrapped up in a game of pattern recognition and morally challenging riddles.


    You know the one about a train on the track? Do you set the point to go right and kill one person or go straight on and kill five¡­ Well, not that one but absolutely that sort of thing.


    All in all, it was fascinating and fun. Something I had not found on the net for so long, as it had all got so predictable and bland for me over the years.


    Yet even so, in my gut, there was something gnawing, and no, I wasn¡¯t hungry. The remains of the sandwich I had for supper sat beside me, crust curling slightly as they dried out.


    It was more a disquiet. You know when watching a movie, especially some horror, and you know the guy going up the stairs is going to get it? Yeah, that.


    The site, the questions, and the puzzles seemed somehow almost intrusive and, at the same time, intuitive. Almost as if it knew me and was trying to understand me. Well, I guess it did ask if I was good enough. Maybe it was indeed trying to assess that. Good enough for what, who knows or cares? But my money is on a credit card application at the end of this or else an offer of a course in making millions if I ¡®have the right stuff¡¯. Who cares, I really don¡¯t, and as I said, it¡¯s been fun.


    I looked towards my window. I could see that faint lightening of the sky that indicated dawn was soon approaching. With reluctance, I closed the laptop. I could always come back and finish another night, but for now, I needed to try and get some sleep.


    For a change, it came easy to me. As my head settled into my pillow, I was able to snuggle down and roll over to sleep. The last thing I felt was a thump as Misty¡ªmy cat¡ªlanded on the bed to curl up next to me as she always did.


    I awoke, body stiff but OK, reluctant to open my eyes. I knew it was well into morning, maybe later. The cat was scratching at the door to be let out, and my mouth felt like a fur rug had landed on my tongue to have a conversation with the back of my teeth.


    With a groan, I smacked my lips and tasted the air. Must be Tuesday. Mondays had a sour, bitter taste to them, and this wasn¡¯t it. Rubbing my eyes open, I looked at the clock. It was flashing green dashes rather than the time. Must have had another flicker on the power at some point. I know the radio had said something about solar storms being likely. Well, I¡¯m glad it didn¡¯t happen when my computer was on. Last thing I need is to fry some chips when it wasn¡¯t for dinner.


    I went into the bathroom and took care of business. My mouth felt better after I had scrubbed away for a minute or two, and so I headed for the kitchen. Coffee: the day can¡¯t start until after my second cup.


    In the back of my mind, something is nagging. I checked the cupboard. Nope, I had bread and milk, so it wasn¡¯t that. I¡¯m sure it would come to me, so no point worrying about it for now. Not bothering with breakfast, I took my coffee and sit down in my comfy chair¡ªsigh, get up again and let out the damn cat.


    OK, so what are the plans for today? Same as always, I guess. Catch up with the news and shake my head at the stupidity of the world we live in. I would have liked kids, but it never happened, and now, in my 50s, I am grateful that I didn¡¯t. I will be long gone soon enough. It¡¯s the youth of today I feel sorry for; what a damn sad, dangerous, and spoiled world they are inheriting. I¡¯m not saying we had it all good. Heavens, no, life wasn¡¯t bad, and we got by without the modern conveniences, but I don¡¯t have rose-tinted spectacles either. Times were tough as people struggled to come to grips with the realities of the changing face of society. But it wasn¡¯t better then, or now. Just different struggles for a different age.


    I picked up my phone: no signal. That was odd, but it happens. I wondered if the net was down as well. No worries; I could check later. Shrugging on my shoes and grabbing my coat and stick, I decided to head to the shop to get something for dinner. As I open the door, the speed with which Misty flew back through told me next door¡¯s dog had been tormenting her again. I would have to have a word or two with them if it carried on. Stepping outside, I head up the street. Something was off, but I couldn¡¯t place it. It was quiet, really quiet. I live in a sleepy area of town, but even so. The distant rumble of traffic on the main road was missing, there were no birds. Hell, even the wind rustling the leaves was decidedly absent. I stop. This just wasn¡¯t right, and I feel a distinct sense of unease starting to build.


    ¡®What the fuck is going on?¡¯ The only real sound was that of my own feet as they hit the pavement and the accompanying clack of my stick.


    I decide to head on up the road, continuing on to my local corner shop. Ishmael, the shop¡¯s hard-working owner, I don¡¯t think he ever closed, would be chatty as always, and that would bring some normality back.


    ¡°Del, you really are losing the plot, my old mate,¡± I say to myself, as I shrug and carry on, softly chuckling to myself about the onset of senility and the perils of living the life of a self-induced hermit. I turned the corner, and ahead was the local shop. The place had been there since long before my time. When this was a village on the outskirts of the growing town, this, along with the pub, had been the centre of village life. Ishmael had owned it for about 20 years now and made it a microcosm of enterprise where everything was conveniently available at a price to make eyes water and bank managers weep.


    I walk up to the door. Strange, the door was closed. Lights were on, but there was no sign of the man or his wife, who between them ran the shop.


    I rattle the handle in hope, but it was locked tight, and even my knocking garnered no response. I hoped they are OK. Ishmael had had that nasty episode where he ended up in hospital for a couple of weeks last year, yet even then, the shop had been kept running by his nephew. The hair on the back of my neck prickles¡ªthis isn¡¯t right. None of it.


    Now, I¡¯m not a conspiracy nut, but hell. Something very odd is going on, and I¡¯m not feeling quite so blas¨¦ about it anymore. I look at my phone, still no signal. Mind made up, I turn and head, as fast as I¡¯m able¡ªhah, that¡¯s a joke, by the way¡ªback towards my home.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Ever had that feeling that you¡¯re being watched? Yup, that¡¯s right. Paranoia. I joke about encroaching senility, but maybe I really am losing my mind. As I round the corner and see my door ahead, it isn¡¯t the only thing I see. Someone¡¯s waiting, patiently it appears, at my gate. As I get closer, I see it¡¯s a youngish¡ªhard to tell these days¡ªwoman in a business suit, holding a briefcase.


    I get closer, and she turns to face me.


    ¡°Can I help you?¡± I ask.


    She smiles.


    ¡°Mr Axholm, I can certainly help you. May I come in?¡±


    Who the hell is she? How does she know my name? What¡¯s going on today?


    This whole day started screwy and is only getting worse as it goes on.


    ¡°No, you can¡¯t. Whoever the hell you are and whatever you¡¯re selling, I DON¡¯T WANT IT.¡±


    I go to push past her to get to my door. I really need to get fitter, and she doesn¡¯t make it easy for me, but I¡¯m rapidly getting pissed off with this whole damn day, and all I feel like doing is going back to bed and waking up to a normal Tuesday.


    ¡°Do you mind?¡± I say acerbically. She takes a step to the side, and I squeeze past, making sure to catch her shin with my stick on the way by. I open my door, slam it forcefully behind me, and, leaning against it, close my eyes and let out a long sigh.


    What a fucking godforsaken day this is turning out to be.


    My place isn¡¯t large. To the left of the front door is my bathroom, and it¡¯s my first stop. I splash cold water on my face and use the toilet.


    Damn.


    Opposite that is my kitchen, and just up the corridor to the left is my bedroom; to the right is my small but functional sitting room. I call my house compact, though I¡¯m sure an estate agent would market it as ¡°bijou.¡±


    Right, coffee. I knew I shouldn¡¯t have headed out before my second cup. That was just setting myself up for all sorts of bad vibes in the day, and today certainly fits the bill. As the kettle slowly comes to a boil, I let my mind relax and realise that it¡¯s been working overtime. Must have been that cheese sandwich last night. I¡¯m being irrational, that much is obvious. I¡¯m sure Ishmael and his wife are OK, and tomorrow they¡¯ll regale me with some crazy happenstance that made them have to close up for a couple of hours. As for the rest¡ªwell, it¡¯s well documented how the mind can invent absurdities to fill gaps and create weird and wonderful shit out of pure, overexposed imagination.


    ¡®You, Del, are a complete and total pillock,¡¯ I say to myself with a rueful smile.


    Coffee in hand, I wander through to the lounge. My coffee cup drops from my hands and smashes on the floor, splashing hot liquid across my foot.


    ¡°Fuck, damn¡ªYou! What the actual hell?¡±


    Sitting primly on my desk chair, facing me, is the woman from outside, smile still on her lips, though I notice it doesn¡¯t really reach her eyes.


    OK, now I know I¡¯m going mad. How can she be in here? She was outside, at my gate. My foot throbs with a mixture of its normal godforsaken pain mixed beautifully with the sting of hot coffee scalding my ankles. Yet she just sits there, watching me, unmoving and unmoved. I feel like some sort of specimen in a collection under her unwavering eyes.


    ¡°How the hell did you get in here¡ªactually, don¡¯t answer that. Get the hell out of my house, or I¡¯m calling the police.¡± I grab my phone, see there¡¯s still no signal, and throw it across the room to land unceremoniously on my chair.


    I¡¯m an old-fashioned guy, so I still have a landline. I take a step to the sideboard and grab the receiver. No dial tone. What is wrong with today? I¡¯m beginning to feel trapped in some sort of nightmare, isolated from reality and more alone than I¡¯ve ever felt before.


    ¡°Are you leaving, or do I have to throw you out?¡± I shout angrily.


    She hasn¡¯t moved. She just looks at me calmly. If anything, I might even say there¡¯s a hint of sadness in her eyes as she witnesses my frustrated anger. She crosses her legs and brushes an invisible speck from her suit jacket.


    I¡¯m a realist. I could probably no more throw her out than I could push past her outside. With a subvocal growl, I go and sit in my chair. I pull off my sodden shoe and still-steaming sock. My foot is an angry red. I¡¯m going to pay for that later.


    ¡®This had better not be a damn timeshare she¡¯s trying to sell,¡¯ I think.


    ¡°OK, let¡¯s have it,¡± I say. ¡°Who the hell are you, what do you want, and how the hell did you get into my house?¡±


    She looks at me for a moment that seems to stretch forever, her eyes assessing, her face calm.


    ¡°As I said outside, Mr Axholm, I am here to help you.¡± Her voice is soft but holds a certain dignitas. She¡¯s someone used to commanding respect without being authoritarian.


    ¡°I got that. Help me with what? I have no money, so whatever amazing gadget or lifestyle you¡¯re selling, I can¡¯t afford it. So if that¡¯s all, you might as well go.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not selling anything,¡± she smiles in reply. ¡°But I am here to fulfil your contract.¡±


    What? I¡¯m confused. Contract? What contract?


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± All anger slips away from me now, set aside in a mixture of throbbing burn and confused curiosity.


    ¡°Some months ago, we put out a job application. The criteria were strict, and although we¡¯ve had many applicants, you are the first¡ªand so far only¡ªapplicant to pass the initial selection process.¡±


    Now I¡¯m really confused. First off, I¡¯ve been medically retired from my job for five years after the accident that left me disabled. I haven¡¯t worked since, or looked for work. I¡¯ve had no intention of doing so either. The compensation I finally won from the firm, while not massive, was enough to clear the mortgage on my home and, by living frugally, will see me through until I need a box to rest in. My only real commitment or family is my cat, so I¡¯m OK and happy to live the remainder of my time without the stress of a job to consider.


    Next and most important¡ªwhat application?


    I¡¯m sure I¡¯d remember if I¡¯d applied for a job. This is definitely getting freaky. Am I losing my mind? I mean really, no joking here, but have I actually lost the plot? Hell, is she even here, or am I just talking to my damn cat? I glance around. Nope, there¡¯s Misty, curled up in that cardboard box she prefers over every fancy bed I¡¯ve ever bought her. OK, so the woman is here. I shoved against her outside, so she isn¡¯t some mind-fuck illusion. She¡¯s watching me calmly now, her eyes still assessing, as if she can see and hear every step of my internal monologue.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start over,¡± I say at last. ¡°You know who I am, so how about, for politeness¡¯ sake, you tell me who you are.¡±


    ¡°Certainly, Mr. Axholm. I am Menolly Swift,¡± she replies in her soft, firm voice.


    ¡°Call me Del; this ¡®Mr¡¯ stuff is unnecessary and too formal for someone who breaks into my home.¡±


    She smiles; this time, it reaches her eyes briefly. ¡°Of course, Del.¡±


    ¡°Now,¡± I say, ¡°I think I need some answers. For a start, I haven¡¯t applied for a job to anyone, and the last time I signed a contract was to get a new phone three years ago.¡±


    ¡°Certainly. Let me try to clear things up for you,¡± says Menolly.


    ¡°Last night, you made an application and signed the contract for your initial role suitability assessment.¡± She smiles. ¡°You passed.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I interrupt, ¡°I never signed anything. Certainly not any job application or contract.¡±


    She lifts her briefcase from the floor, quickly spins the combination, and opens it on the table. From where I sit, I can¡¯t see inside, but what the heck, I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll show me whatever she feels necessary. After all, so far, this all seems very much her show.


    Removing a notepad, she swipes through some pages.


    ¡°Ah, here we are. At 03:18 this morning, you accessed the application and assessment room and accepted the contract.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡±


    ¡°You ticked the box to accept, Del.¡± She sighs quietly, adding to herself, ¡°You humans never bother to read the T¡¯s & C¡¯s.¡±


    ¡®What was that? Did she say humans?¡¯ Nah, I must be hearing things. With the way this day has gone, that¡¯s not really surprising.


    ¡°So I ticked accept¡ªdoesn¡¯t everybody? So what, do tell, have I got myself into?¡±


    She puts away the notepad and instead pulls out a stack of papers¡ªprintouts that are very clearly from last night¡¯s games and quizzes.


    She hands them to me. The top sheet is startling, to say the least.


    It¡¯s a summarised biography. My full name, date and place of birth, mother¡¯s and ¡®father¡¯s¡¯ name; damn, I never knew who he was. Well, there¡¯s a corker. Mum never told me, and she¡¯s been under the ground for a long time now. She¡¯d turn in her grave if she knew I had this information.


    I have to chuckle. Who would have thought, my old schoolmaster, the dirty dog.


    ¡®Stop getting distracted, Del.¡¯ The sheet is full of all sorts of personal details: jobs I¡¯ve held, all the places I¡¯ve lived, an old library fine for a book I lost years ago.


    Well, I have to give them credit for a background check, but it¡¯s also very, very creepy. Who are these people?


    They certainly know too much for this to be some sales gambit or scam. I can¡¯t even say it¡¯s a hallucination. Everything feels more real than I¡¯ve ever known before. They know things. Things I have never shared and other stuff even I never knew. Only the accuracy of the statements I know to be true lends credence to the veracity of those I had no idea about.


    I wonder if Mr Willhelm ever knew that I was his bastard son, sharing a class with his daughter as he tried to cram Geography into our wandering brains. Heck, I nearly asked her out on a date once, and then she met the guy she married. Last I heard, they¡¯d moved to New Zealand or some other far-flung place. Mr Willhelm died during COVID a couple of years back. Shame really; he was a nice guy and a good teacher. The rest of the papers are from the website last night: evaluations, scores, lots of graphs and charts.


    ¡°So I had some fun passing a sleepless night on your website last night. Your information on me is disturbingly scary, and you say I¡¯m now in some sort of selection process.¡±


    I look at my broken mug, I need coffee to put down my throat and not over my foot.


    ¡°Do you want one? Then you can skip the BS and instead give me the what, why, and how of all this. Let¡¯s please just cut the crap and start getting down to what the fuck I¡¯ve got myself into.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good, thank you,¡± she replies. ¡°And yes, we can now ¡®cut the crap,¡¯ as you say.¡±

 Chapter 2 – I like my life simple.

    I go to the now-cooled and sodden carpet near the door and collect the remains of my broken mug.


    ¡°I liked that mug,¡± I grumble to myself. It was just the right size for a satisfying drink. I throw it in the bin and head for the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, I return, carefully place the new mug on the table, and sit back in my chair.


    ¡°Right then, Menolly, how about you tell me what you think I¡¯ve got myself into.¡±


    In my mind, I reserve the right to scepticism about whatever half-truths or lies she might throw at me. Alright, that bio of me was disturbing, but I¡¯ve always been a bit paranoid about ¡®Big Brother,¡¯ so who knows what the hidden powers of this damn government are capable of. I¡¯m pretty sure now that she¡¯s in some way connected with MI5 or MI6 or whatever other designation she might be hiding behind.


    She¡¯s too damn perfect in her depiction of an anonymous suit; it¡¯s right in so many ways that it seems to me¡ªoff.


    She¡¯s around 5¡¯6¡± or 7¡±, slim-built with short, collar-length blonde hair and blue eyes that seem to turn grey at times. She sits there, every inch of her screaming precision. The kind of person who probably irons their socks. Her cream suit is immaculate, not a single wrinkle, like she¡¯s stepped out of some high-end department store catalogue. But that isn¡¯t what¡¯s bothering me.


    It¡¯s her eyes. Blue, except when they flicker grey, like some old TV screen losing signal. It¡¯s subtle, but just enough to make my skin prickle. Something isn¡¯t right, and the fact that I can¡¯t put my finger on it is distracting and¡ª


    She¡¯s talking again, but my brain¡¯s already checked out, focusing on the way her hair doesn¡¯t move, even in the slight breeze from the open window. I realise my mind has wandered, and I haven¡¯t heard a damn thing she¡¯s said.


    I feel like I¡¯m losing track of what¡¯s real and what isn¡¯t. ¡®Am I still asleep? Maybe I¡¯ll wake soon, drool on my chin, and the cat snuggled in.¡¯


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. What?¡± I sigh. ¡°Please start again.¡±


    ¡°I was just telling you about your test and what the scores revealed about you, Mr. Axholm.¡±


    ¡°Del,¡± I retort.


    ¡°The application process and testing, Del, is designed to uncover various aspects about an applicant.¡±


    She has her pad in her hand again but doesn¡¯t need to look at it. Her eyes remain on me.


    ¡°We have assessed how you handle pressure, solve problems, your sense of right and wrong.¡±


    ¡°Pressure?¡± I harrumph. ¡°It was a damned IQ test and some games. I do them all the time. Was yours different from others in some way? ¡¯Cos I sure couldn¡¯t see it.¡±


    She doesn¡¯t smile this time or look away. Her eyes are grey, serious.


    ¡°Yes, Del, very different and far more so.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t say,¡± I shoot back sarcastically. This is just getting more frustrating, and I hold up my hand to stop her reply.


    ¡°Look, lady.¡±


    ¡®Why do things have to be so damned complicated?¡¯ I prefer a life that¡¯s quiet and uneventful. This is just sounding, once again, like so much BS, and I¡¯m getting a headache.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t invite you in to give me test scores or tell me I have some A-class IQ or whatever. Actually, I didn¡¯t invite you in at all.


    I¡¯m no super genius, and even if I was, so what!¡±


    I rub at my temples; I¡¯m going to need some painkillers and can¡¯t remember if I have any pills left in the drawer or just that super-strong prescription stuff they give me for my legs.


    ¡°I like my life simple¡ªcoffee, cat, peace and quiet. Not whatever the hell this is.¡±


    She nods.


    ¡°I felt it important you understood what you managed and why I am here because of it,¡± she replies.


    ¡°But if you don¡¯t want that information, I can provide you with a breakdown later for you to read or throw away as you desire.¡±


    I close my eyes with a sigh. ¡®Count to ten, Del. Maybe she¡¯ll be gone when you open them.¡¯


    She isn¡¯t.


    I take a deep breath.


    ¡°Maybe I will, who knows. This whole day¡¯s been screwy from the start, so you may as well go on piling on the shit.¡±


    She looks at me, assessing as if deciding what to say. She gives a brief nod.


    ¡°Things are a lot worse than most of you believe. This planet faces a crisis, one that will affect every animal living here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, global warming or some other such shit,¡± I reply. ¡°I¡¯ll be long dead before that becomes my problem, and while I like polar bears as much as the next guy¡­¡± The look in her eyes makes me stop mid-sentence. It¡¯s sad, yet determined and¡ªsomething else I can¡¯t put my finger on.


    ¡°I¡¯m not talking about global warming or polar bears. I might also remind you that humans are also animals.¡± One eyebrow raises briefly.


    ¡°Touche,¡± I snort.


    Her voice is quiet, calm, as she continues.


    ¡°Let me step back and give you a brief resume of who I am, and maybe you will understand better.¡±


    She puts down the notepad that¡¯s been sitting in her hands, unused.


    ¡°My correct designation is Menolly 14711. I am a construct employed by an organisation beyond this planet¡¯s parameters and part of the Sol monitoring collective.¡±


    I¡¯m about to sip from my mug as she speaks. Carefully, I put it back down¡ªlast thing I need is a lap full of hot coffee.


    ¡°The who-what now?¡± I say, scepticism thick in my voice.


    This confirms it; I¡¯m off with the fairies, and the men in white suits will be here to collect me soon.


    ¡®See, Del,¡¯ I think derisively. ¡®This is what you get for constant jokes about going senile.¡¯


    ¡°Monitoring?¡± I snort. ¡°Am I on some damned terror alert watchlist because of some website I randomly browsed?¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot to take in, and I¡¯m sure you have many questions and doubts. But this is important. YOU are important, Del. Of the several hundred thousand people who found the site and completed the tests, you were the only one so far to meet the criteria.¡±


    I stand up and start looking in the corners of my room, behind the curtains, out the window.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asks, her tone curious.


    ¡°Looking for the cameras,¡± I say as I move a picture frame and examine the clock.


    ¡°This has to be some sort of elaborate hoax. I¡¯m not sure who the hell put you up to it, but you, my dear Menolly, have been rumbled.¡±


    She looks at me. For a moment, confusion passes over her face, then it becomes stern¡ªalmost frightening.


    ¡°Sit down, Mr Axholm.¡± She doesn¡¯t raise her voice, but it commands in a way I can¡¯t ignore. With a start, I sit down and look her way, clasping my hand to stop the slight tremble from showing.


    As I sit there, her face slides back into its more neutral state.


    ¡°When you woke this morning,¡± she begins, ¡°tell me, did you notice anything a bit unusual?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± I reply cagily.


    ¡°No people about, no sound, nothing moving?¡± she asks.


    I look at her, eyes wide. ¡®Hold it together, Del.¡¯


    My mind is racing. She¡¯s right about the weird things going on¡ªor rather, not going on. My thoughts race back, replaying some of the strange things she¡¯s said, as if there weren¡¯t plenty of those already.


    ¡®You humans,¡¯


    ¡®Construct,¡¯


    ¡®BEYOND THE DAMN PLANET!¡¯


    ¡°Are you some sort of bloody alien? Is everybody else dead or something? What is this? What the actual fuck is going on?¡± My voice rises with every sentence, breath catching in my throat.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.¡°Is this some sort of alien abduction? Want me to bend over so you can stick a probe up my arse?¡±


    She doesn¡¯t flinch; my tirade might as well be waves beating against the shore for all the effect it has.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot to take in,¡± her calm voice a direct contrast to my short breaths.


    ¡®Hold it together, Del; having a heart attack won¡¯t exactly solve things.¡¯ I take a deep, shuddering breath.


    ¡°OK, I¡¯m okay.¡±


    ¡®Forget ten, just count to five and calm down.¡¯ I feel my heart beating in my chest start to slow and look at her.


    ¡°So, what was going on this morning?¡± I ask. ¡®Start with the simple stuff,¡¯ I think to myself. As if anything this morning has been simple.


    ¡°Put simply, imagine if you could exist in a time between time. Well, we are¡ªyou and I, that is. In answer to your question just now, nobody is dead, at least not due to what you and I are part of.¡±


    She uncrosses her legs and leans towards me slightly.


    ¡°Everything you have experienced so far since you woke has existed in a space less than a nanosecond in time. No sound, as sound needs time to be heard; same with the wind, opening a door of a shop, and so on. Once we have finished, the bubble will end, and your time will return to what you consider normal.¡±


    I think I¡¯ll have the mother of all headaches that lasts at least a week.


    ¡°You stopped time?¡± I feel beaten, one absurdity after another. It¡¯s just too much. I no longer have the strength for anger and outrage. This is just so far outside my reality. I pat my lap. Misty looks up from her box, gives a little mew, and prances over to jump into my lap. As I stroke her, she purrs and brings a small sliver of safe, bland normal back into my mind.


    ¡°No, Del,¡± she says with a small smile at the cat.


    ¡°Stopping time isn¡¯t possible, but let¡¯s just say that your world so far has only a limited grasp of the concept of time. It can be,¡± she thinks for a moment as if seeking the right word, ¡°manipulated.¡±


    ¡°Manipulated?¡± The word feels wrong; it doesn¡¯t fit.


    ¡°Rather than stopping time, we¡¯ve just, for a brief period, stepped outside of its normal rules.¡±


    I close my eyes. I feel strapped into some surreal nightmare. Every concept of what is and isn¡¯t is being challenged.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get back on track,¡± Menolly says. ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot to take in, but do try to stay with me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try, lady,¡± I say, ¡°but I¡¯m not making promises.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a start.¡± She smiles. ¡°The Sol monitoring collective is just one part of a group that monitors worlds where sapient life is either developing or has the potential to develop. The purpose is to passively watch and, when the time is right, intervene as is deemed fit.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± I ask. ¡°Intervene?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes a species doesn¡¯t get past certain developmental levels. In your past, the most successful genotype were the dinosaurs, yet they never developed true sentience. Long before them, there was another seedling species very similar to your own. It died out before the monitoring started.¡±


    ¡®Ancient civilisation?¡¯ I think with a start. Did those damned conspiracy theorists actually get something right?


    ¡°By the time of a large asteroid impact, it had been determined that the Saurons were not going to get anywhere and were, in fact, preventing a true sapience from developing on the planet.¡±


    She pauses.


    ¡°We did not intervene.¡±


    That simple statement hits me harder than some of the more outrageous things I¡¯ve had to deal with today.


    ¡°At the moment,¡± Menolly continues, ¡°your astronomical observers are unaware that another even larger asteroid will hit the planet in five years. The rock is known but considered in a safe near-earth orbit. Six days before it passes harmlessly, it will be struck by another smaller, unobserved asteroid and diverted into Earth¡¯s path.¡±


    I stare at her, dumbfounded. Mouth dry.


    ¡°It will be a massive extinction-level event.¡±


    I try to speak; I open my mouth. Nothing comes out¡ªtongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my brain feels like it¡¯s boiling.


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    I struggle to get my words out.


    ¡°You have to do something. You said before you didn¡¯t intervene.¡± I know I¡¯m babbling, my words tripping over themselves in their need to be expressed.


    ¡°Why tell me? Why not NASA or someone who can do something? I¡¯m just a man feeling older than my years, wasting away in a shitty little house.¡±


    I feel the sting of tears in my eyes, tears of frustration and worry and shock.


    ¡®Five years?¡¯


    ¡°Mr Axholm,¡± she says almost gently. Her eyes are sad and grey. ¡°You are not a nobody. As I said at the beginning, you are important.¡±


    She brings the chair closer to mine and speaks to me quietly.


    ¡°Intervention is not something undertaken lightly. Mistakes have been made in the past and cannot be made again.¡±


    She clasps her hands in her lap. For a construct¡ªwhatever that is¡ªshe sure has ¡®human¡¯ done right.


    ¡°In order for it to be considered, criteria have to be met.¡±


    She lifts a finger.


    ¡°First, the race has to show its ability to colonise more than their home world. Humanity is on its way to doing this, but it is still some years from being achieved.¡±


    Another finger lifts.


    ¡°Through innovation and invention, they have to prove able to be self-sustaining without destroying their planet in the process.¡±


    She sighs.


    ¡°Humanity is a long way off from this.¡±


    A third finger raises.


    ¡°A species must pass through the time of conflict and find ways to co-exist peacefully. There have been many times in recent history when your race has come very close to self-destruction. Had this happened, no intervention would have taken place to stop it. A race determined to destroy itself is just too dangerous to be let loose on the wider galaxy.¡±


    The final finger joins the others.


    ¡°You have to have cultural development that understands the concept of morality. While it is acknowledged that not every decision is the right one, the choice has to be made based on a sense of what is morally right.¡±


    My head drops. I let out a long breath.


    ¡°So, I guess we¡¯re totally fucked, then. We nearly got to Mars¡ªYee bloody hah. On the rest, we¡¯re royally buggered.¡±


    I shake my head and look up at her, right in her eyes.


    ¡°Why tell me? I could have happily gone on, enjoying my next five years, then¡ªpoof!¡ªwithout ever really knowing or caring that shit was going to get real.¡±


    I reach for my coffee. ¡®Bah, cold again.¡¯ Still, it¡¯s wet and my throat¡¯s dry, and I sure need that hit of caffeine.


    There¡¯s silence for a minute as I process all she¡¯s said, and she lets me, understanding my need.


    ¡°Mr. Axho¡­ Del. I said you met the criteria. And that matters more than you could know.¡±


    I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m really listening at this point. I absently stroke Misty, her ginger fur soothing against my skin. Her purrs are reassuring in a way I don¡¯t deserve to be reassured.


    ¡°How?¡± I say at last.


    ¡°You are correct in that the majority decision was for no intervention.¡±


    I just shrug. ¡®Figures.¡¯


    ¡°There was, however, a moderation put in place. A chance to prove the race had purpose in the future of the Galactic Collective. A specification was devised to find a person or persons to represent the planet¡¯s future potential. So far, it¡¯s very much you¡ªsingular¡ªwho has passed the mark for the first phase.¡±


    I start chuckling; it rises up and starts to bubble out loud. I find it hard to get a grip on myself.


    ¡°You are telling me,¡± I splutter between breaths, ¡°you are telling me that of all the arses on this planet, you¡¯re relying on a broken old fart like me.¡±


    My laugh is almost hysterical as I try to control it. With a gasp, I get a grip.


    I want to care, I really do. But what the hell difference can I make? It¡¯s all too much, beyond me. Yet she, this damned whatever-she-is, thinks I matter.


    ¡°My dear God,¡± I breathe. ¡°We really are well and truly fucked.¡±

 Chapter 3 - Welcome to the Overmind

    Menolly sat there, quiet, refined. Patiently waiting for me to gather my wits and get control of myself.


    I have never had a panic attack and I¡¯m certainly not prone to hysteria. Too much damned drama as far as I am concerned, so this was definitely a first for me. I think I am allowed a little leeway though, all things considered. One could hardly believe this to be a normal Tuesday, and I thought I was not doing too bad in holding onto whatever rationality I had left in me.


    ¡®OK Del, you¡¯ve got this¡¯  I mutter to myself.


    I stand, depositing the cat unceremoniously on the floor, she gives me a look and proceeds to mooch off indignantly. Without a word to my uninvited guest, I grab my mug and walk back to the kitchen.


    I needed to restore some reflection of normality, so I put on the kettle and throw a slice of bread in the toaster.


    A few minutes later I return to my chair. Sit down and take a bite of my toast.


    ¡°Right Menolly 90210 or whoever you are,¡± I say through a mouthful of crumbs.


    ¡°The world is ending and I¡¯m some superhero messiah thing that¡¯s going to save humanity.¡± She gives a bit of a wry smile. ¡°So how in hell am I to do that.¡±


    After a brief pause, she once again gives a slight nod as if recognising I was over a necessary hurdle.


    ¡°The universe as you understand it, is far more complex than humanity has yet understood. The Galactic Collective is just one of many overwatch bodies, each responsible for observing and eventually integrating new sapient species into the Overmind.¡±


    She is watching me closely.


    Personally, I have decided to just sit and listen and think of it as a movie, one I just happen to be part of for now. But that¡¯s just another plot twist and life is certainly full of those. At least this way I can hold on to my sanity for a bit longer, at least until it¡¯s time to change the reel.


    ¡°The Overmind? Is that some sort of high almighty lording over us and deciding our planets fate?¡±


    Menolly¡¯s eyes flicker slightly,


    ¡°Something like that, but not. The Overmind can be thought of as the creator and keeper of the rules that govern every aspect of how things work. Think of what you know about the laws of physics or life. They are a tiny shadow of the infinite possibilities that the Overmind manages.¡±


    I pause mid-chew, and then swallow loudly.


    ¡°Are you telling me it¡¯s some kind of superbeing? Or even a god?¡±


    She shakes her head


    ¡°No Del, gods are something else entirely.¡±


    ¡®Gods are something else? Damn Del. And she said gods ¨C plural. That¡¯s going to upset some folks¡¯


    ¡°Never had much time for religion myself¡± I said as I took a sip of coffee.


    ¡°Think of the Overmind as a consciousness, one that includes and interacts with every sentient race in subtle yet real ways. It¡¯s both a tool and a keeper of knowledge. It provides a commonality and a bridge between species. At the same time, it allows for complete freedom of thought and action within the natural laws it governs.¡±


    I could feel my mind starting to gloss over again. I put down my plate and watched idly as Misty ran over to lick the butter from the uneaten remains.


    ¡°OK, so the Galaxy is full of super advanced people who have all long met your criteria and now rule the waves, and if we manage to pass your little test, we get thrown into this melting pot? Perhaps it might be better to not have that happen.¡±


    I said morosely


    ¡®Damn it man, with the crap world we have with all the shit going on¡¯  I couldn¡¯t help thinking to myself.


    ¡°Why the fuck would you want this crap planet as part of your Overmind anyway?¡±


    Menolly tilted her head slightly, as if considering how best to respond to my pessimism. For a moment, her eyes softened, almost human. Made me wonder if there was anything human about her.


    ¡°The Overmind doesn¡¯t see things in terms of good or bad,¡± she said. ¡°It looks at potential, what a species can become, not what it currently is. Humanity is¡­ complex, yes. Chaotic, sometimes. But the Overmind values diversity of thought, creativity, and willpower. And your species is, like all human species, remarkable in an ability to adapt, develop and endure.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Endure? Sure. Look at us, barely surviving, polluting the planet, always on the brink of one disaster or another. If we¡¯re so great, why do we keep screwing things up?¡±


    She paused, and I thought for a moment she might actually agree with me. Instead, she spoke calmly, with the same frustrating patience she¡¯d had since this whole conversation started.


    ¡°It¡¯s not about perfection, Del. It¡¯s about growth. Struggle is part of growth. The Galactic Collective is not a utopia where everyone lives in harmony and peace. Each civilization within it has had its own trials, its own self-destructive tendencies. But those who evolve beyond those struggles contribute something invaluable to the Collective.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°And what, exactly, does Earth contribute? Reality TV and social media addiction?¡±


    She smiled faintly, the first sign of amusement I¡¯d seen. ¡°Earth¡¯s creativity, resourcefulness, and resilience. Your culture is vibrant, even if at times it seems¡­ chaotic. The Overmind recognizes that growth comes through conflict. Your world may seem broken now, but it is on the cusp of transformation. It just needs a catalyst.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s me? A catalyst?¡± My mind flicked back to school science experiments.


    ¡°In a way¡± Menolly responded. ¡°But more than that. You are a representative. You have shown, not just through your testing online but also in your interaction with me today. That you possess an ability to rise to even the most stressful or absurd challenges. That will be so important going forward if the Collective is to intervene.¡±


    ¡°There are always these ifs, buts and maybes hanging over everything¡± I retort. ¡°You are shoving a whole lot of pressure onto my shoulders and I still don¡¯t think you have the right person¡±


    ¡°We are confident, and we do think you are the right choice.¡±


    ¡°Why though. I am a beaten up man with buggered legs. I saw 60 pass me by and while away my days wasting time and wallowing in nostalgia. What do I bring to the table that some fit athletic intelligent youngster couldn¡¯t do better¡±


    She looked at me, her face calm.


    ¡°You are adaptable, free from any unbending dogma, have an open mind showing flexibility and a remarkable strength of will. You also have willingness to take on board totally alien and new concepts and have shown you can handle pressure.¡±


    I stared at her, digesting the weight of it all. Me, flexible? Adaptable? If she¡¯d seen how long it took me to switch from VHS to DVD, she might reconsider.


    ¡°Well,¡± I said, feeling the sarcasm rise, ¡°I guess it¡¯s good to know I¡¯m humanity¡¯s best shot, based on my ability to¡­ what? Wing it?¡±


    Menolly didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°Winging it has worked remarkably well for humans so far.¡±


    I chuckled ¡®She got you there Del¡¯ I mused.


    ¡°So what happens now. I have to sit some sort of cosmic test? An entrance exam?¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Not quite but it is a test.¡± She answers. ¡°It won¡¯t be easy, I will be honest with you about that. But as part of the Galactic Collective I can do a few things to aid you where I can.¡±


    ¡°So not left completely high and dry then¡± I snarked back.


    The look she gave me was unreadable.


    ¡°No¡± she said. ¡°That was never the plan. Any test is only valid if the one taking it is provided with at least rudimentary tools to make sure they start on an even playing field.¡±


    ¡°Not quite thrown to the wolves then, just almost¡± I shook my head. ¡°Do I actually have a chance, does humanity, does Earth?¡± I feel the build-up of dread, almost nauseous, in my stomach. For a moment I rest my head in my hand and close my eyes.


    ¡®Make this go away please¡¯ I say hopefully to myself. I look back up. Her eyes pierce into mine as if seeing into my very soul.


    ¡°That¡¯s up to you Del. If you didn¡¯t have a chance I wouldn¡¯t be here. Today would never have happened and in 5 years¡­ you would have been consigned to the same fate as the rest of your species as your planet played host to the approaching mountain.¡±


    She sighs, you could almost think she was human. Hell for a large chunk of our meeting I would never have even considered anything different. It was still hard to believe she wasn¡¯t.


    ¡®If this all turns out to be some twisted nightmare after all¡­ Quit it Del. This is too damn real for that.¡¯


    ¡°If there was another way, or more candidates and met the criteria, then we would have taken a different path. There is also still the chance that others may pass and you could be joined at a later point. This is by no means impossible.¡±


    ¡°There might be others who pass then?¡± I ask hopefully. ¡°How likely is that in reality.¡±


    She is always assessing me, watching, seeing. Its unnerving in one way. Strangely comforting in another.


    ¡°Without getting too deep into probability calculations the Collective have undertaken. You are the one person to pass in just over a million who have found the site. Most just passed the page by. Some didn¡¯t. With earth¡¯s present internet usage we expect another 7 to 8 million to find the page over the next 3 years. After that the page will be closed as that will be the point where the final decision will be made. So there is a slim possibility other representatives will be found.¡±


    I looked at her sharply


    ¡°But why, why 3 years? Why didn¡¯t you just make your decision already and either save us or let the cards land where they fall. This still doesn¡¯t really make sense.¡±


    This was one thing that my mind kept coming back to. Why, and why me? Not in a self-pitying manner but a simple question of what made me the correct choice.


    ¡°While its true¡± Menolly answered. ¡°The Collective monitoring party could well have packed up and left in place automatic systems to record for the archives the end of another potential addition to the Universal whole. Most times that would have been the case as only a small number actually make it to integration.¡±


    ¡°So why not us?¡± I ask.


    ¡°The majority thought that should be the case.¡± She responded bluntly. ¡°But, there was a significant enough minority who felt the potential should not be wasted out of hand, but instead, a slender lifeline offered.¡±


    ¡°Which brings you to me I suppose¡± I shake my head.


    ¡°Which brings us to you.¡± She agreed.


    For a while, we sat in silence. He eyes, flickered between blue and grey, so fast it was almost imperceptible. It made Del think of some sort of computer, constantly parsing information, running millions of iterations with every moment.


    ¡°Are you an android?¡± he suddenly asked.


    She tilted her head, somewhat expressing surprise at the unexpected question.


    ¡°I suppose I am close to what you might expect an android to be, but no. I am a construct of the Systarni. We are a race that developed from a civilisation that gradually adapted more and more to mechanical enhancements, until, after many millennia we became what we are now. So while not an android, that is to say an unliving machine. I am more a cyborg. A melding of the biological and mechanical.¡±


    I shrugged and mused. ¡°I guess the universe is full of all sorts.¡±


    ¡°Indeed it is¡± she agreed ¡°Although it is surprising how many times striking similarities arise on disparate evolutionary paths.¡± She lifted her hand to indicate me.


    ¡°Humanity has developed multiple varieties across the universe for example, becoming one of the most widespread species.¡±


    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°So why bother with all this and trying to save one more human species¡± I quickly did a rapid mental step back. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t want that of course.¡± I said with a half smile.


    ¡°Because no matter how many types of humanity or other species are inducted into the realm of the Overmind. Each brings something unique that adds to the whole.¡±


    ¡°But.¡± She raised her hand. ¡°We are getting distracted. I need to give you what information I can about your task and integrate you into the Overmind so you can do what you must.¡±


    Although it was said with no inflection, her words hit me with a touch of finality. There really was no misunderstanding this any more. A lot was at stake, more than I could truly imagine, and yet. I was the one carrying the can.


    ¡°OK¡± I said, resignation obvious in my tone. ¡°What do I do?¡±


    ¡°For now¡± She said ¡°Sit comfortably and pass me your hand.¡±


    I opened my eyes, I¡¯m not sure how long after. It could have been minutes or hours. I guess it didn¡¯t really matter as we are in a bloody time warp by all accounts.


    Menolly was still sat there. Quietly watching me.


    I noticed something. Actually I noticed a few things but the first most glaring thing was my constant pain and ache in my legs.


    It was gone!


    So were the other numerous aches that come with life dragging you through to the far end of middle age. The little niggles in my back, that tooth that had been annoying me for months but dentists cost too damn much. Even the headache that had been threatening to explode fully as the day had worn on.


    Standing I walked quickly to the bathroom to look in the mirror


    ¡®Still the same ugly old bastard though.¡¯  I thought with a wry smile.


    As I examined myself more closely I became aware of a quiet, almost sub-audible beeping.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± I said out loud and went back to the lounge.


    As I entered she turned to look at me.


    I said. ¡°Menolly, whatever the Overmind or you did, I feel better than I can remember since the accident. But I have some weird arsed buzzing going on in my head. Did something go wrong when you patched me up?¡± I may have sounded worried, yep, I definitely sounded worried. I was worried. I get fixed up but my brain is fizzling.


    ¡®Del, master of never quite managing to not fuck things up.¡¯


    ¡°Its alright Del¡± she says reassuringly. ¡°That¡¯s the Overmind. You have been integrated into it and that is its way of notifying you that information is available.¡±


    I sat down. ¡°OK so what do you mean, information.¡±


    ¡°Let me give you a brief outline of how things work. The rest of it you will find out as you go along as its all dependent of what choices you make.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough. Hit me¡±


    She momentarily looks shocked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea Del. I am far stronger than you and¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I interrupt her. ¡°Not literally. Let me have the information. Hit me with it is just a saying.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I shall add that to our database.¡± She assumes a look that reminds me of a teacher I had long ago.


    ¡°I told you that the Overmind acted as both a tool and a database of knowledge.


    As a tool it can keep you updated with your progress and guide you in what you need to do if you are to meet the criteria of your task.¡±


    I nodded.


    ¡°Information can be found by simple mental commands to access them. Think ¡®Status¡¯.¡±


    I gave her a quizzical look but did as I was told.


    And promptly jumped back deeper into my chair as a screen flashed up in front of me.


    ¡®Holy hells, what the actual!¡¯  I waved my hands in front of my face and rapidly turned my head. Wherever I looked it was right in front of me, semi transparent so I could see through it, but bloody disconcerting.


    ¡°What the hell is this¡± I shout.


    Menolly¡¯s calm but authoritative voice cuts through. ¡°Take a breath Del, its not dangerous and in reality its literally generated in your minds eye. Your brain has just created an image to provide what you requested of the Overmind, in this case your status. You can clear it just by thinking ¡®end¡¯ or any other command you personally understand as closing the effect. Try it and then open and close it a few times to get the hang of it.¡±


    Warily I thought, ¡®Close¡¯  Damned if it didn¡¯t work. Being the good student I opened and closed it a few more times. I didn¡¯t at this time bother to read whatever it said, probably scared shitless would be my status.


    As I closed it for the 3<sup>rd</sup> time and now feeling comfortable in its control I looked back to Menolly.


    ¡°What else?¡± I asked


    ¡°There are various other common commands such as ¡®log¡¯ to update you on what you are doing and have done. Status can also be used to assess the condition of clothing and any goods or equipment you might be using. Useful to see if something is getting worn out and in need of repair.¡±


    I nod and she continues. There is also a basic function to help you find information on things around you. Look at something, an object or an animal for example and think ¡®identify¡¯. Its not foolproof and will not properly identify anything significantly stronger than you but it provides access to the knowledge database that is the Overmind.¡±


    I look at Misty once more, curled up and sleeping in her box.


    ¡®Identify.¡¯


    Words appear in front of me:


    Cat: Misty, your companion.


    Level: 1


    Agile and stealthy.


    Strengths: Dexterity, agility.


    Weaknesses: Intelligence, wisdom.


    Attacks: Pounce, bite, rake.


    Skill: Charm person


    .


    Satisfied, I glance over at Menolly.


    ¡®Identify.¡¯


    Words appear, far more sparse this time:


    Systarni Bipedal Construct: Menolly 14711


    Affiliation: Galactic Collective


    Level: ???


    Strengths: Unknown


    Weaknesses: Unknown


    Attacks: Unknown


    Skills: Unknown


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s not very helpful,¡± I mutter. ¡°So you¡¯re a bit of a mystery woman then?¡±


    ¡°As I said, Del,¡± Menolly responds, ¡°identify won¡¯t reveal much about those significantly more powerful than you. The stronger they are, the less you¡¯ll know.¡±


    Nodding my head to indicate my understanding ¡°Alright, what else?¡±


    ¡°We are almost done.¡±


    ¡®I sure am.¡¯ I mutter.


    ¡°What was that?¡± She asks.


    ¡°Nothing, nothing. So what now?¡±


    ¡°A straight forward decision. Basically in order for a full assessment to made for your species, you need to prove its merits in a number of ways. Adaptability, initiative, morality and so on.¡±


    ¡°And how do I do that¡± I ask.


    ¡°Simple really Del.¡± Her eyes are piercing.


    ¡°Survive¡±

 Chapter 4 – I never made a bucket list.

    ¡®Well, that¡¯s certainly succinct. It¡¯s always nice when a job is so easy,¡¯ I think with sardonic acceptance.


    ¡°Nothing too hard, then,¡± I say grimly. ¡°Care to elaborate? Like, survive what? About my only survival ability centres on getting successfully through the monthly trip to the supermarket.¡±


    Damn, that actually gets a bit of a laugh from her.


    ¡°I can assure you that you are unlikely to face a shopping trolley challenge,¡± she responds. Becoming once more all business, she continues, ¡°First, you need to make a decision, and that will determine the first part of your assessment trial. Then things can begin. You¡¯ll be sent to a place where it will take place.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I interrupt. ¡°What place? If I¡¯m going somewhere, then how long? I have a cat, in case you hadn¡¯t noticed.¡±


    Misty, as if knowing she¡¯s become the topic of conversation, stretches languidly and wanders over to her bowl.


    ¡°I can¡¯t leave her for more than a couple of hours, or she gets feisty.¡±


    Menolly looks at my cat and then tilts her head toward the ceiling, her eyes rapidly flickering for a few seconds.


    ¡°We can accommodate Misty so she can go with you,¡± she says. ¡°It will only require a small adjustment to the parameters, and she may be of use in aiding your task.¡±


    I look at the cat. Normally, the most help she gives comes in devouring anything she considers edible and shedding ginger fur everywhere.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s my task, then?¡± I ask.


    ¡°As I said, Del, you have a choice to make. One of a selection of three possible locations. Depending on the search for other representatives, you may only need to visit one location, or you may need to go to more.¡± She shrugs¡ªa very human gesture that catches me by surprise.


    ¡°At this time, we can¡¯t know. But until the Collective either decides you have proved or failed to prove the suitability of your species, the assessment shall go on.¡±


    ¡®No pressure, then, Del. Surely someone else is better than me for this shit.¡¯ I can¡¯t shake my feeling of complete and utter unsuitability for all of this.


    ¡°Go on,¡± I say dryly.


    ¡°You need to choose one of either past, present, or future.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± I ask. ¡°A bit more to go on might be nice.¡± I feel sarcasm rising in my tone, directly competing with irritated confusion.


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you much or what the Overmind will be looking for specifically.¡± She looks at me with eyes that seem to express compassion.


    ¡°We just don¡¯t know. What I can tell you is that you will, from time to time, be notified of a Cuvat.¡±


    ¡®A what now?¡¯ ¡°Pardon?¡± I ask. ¡°What the hell is that?¡±


    ¡°Think of it as a path, a direction. Sometimes it may be direct, such as ¡®go here and do this.¡¯ Other times, it may be more cryptic or obscure,¡± she explains.


    ¡°Once you begin, you will be able to find and review cuvats in your log.¡±


    ¡°So, a quest,¡± I respond. ¡°Why not just say that?¡±


    She smiles.


    ¡°Similar, yes, but not quite. A cuvat is a direction from the Overmind. You may well find yourself given jobs or tasks to do as you interact with the people around you. These, you may think of as quests. Sometimes one or more quests may be important in completing a cuvat.¡± She shrugs. ¡°Other times, not.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll figure it out.¡± I pat my lap to call Misty. Purrs and fur are a good relaxant. Help me keep my head on straight.


    ¡°A simple way to think of it is that a cuvat, though it may not be obvious in what way, will directly provide information to the Overmind and further the assessment one way or another. But not all cuvats will necessarily move your case closer to intervention. Some may even have the opposite effect. Their purpose is to allow the Overmind to directly understand the complexity of a species¡ªall of it, good and bad.¡±


    ¡®As if my life wasn¡¯t getting complicated enough,¡¯ I inwardly grumble.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s this past, present, future BS all about?¡± I ask.


    ¡°That is the choice you need to make,¡± Menolly answers. ¡°I can provide you with some limited information to help, but most will be for you to discover as you go along.¡±


    She flicks her hand, and beside her, an image appears in thin air.


    I start.


    ¡°What the fuck!¡±


    The image is clear, semi-translucent, and not projected on any screen I can see. It shows a scene of a grassy hill flowing down towards a stream. The image rotates as if a camera is panning, and I see the edge of a wood and what looks remarkably like a herd of deer grazing at its edge.


    ¡°Some people of your species have theorised that, before recorded history, another ancient civilisation existed. They were right¡ªsort of,¡± Menolly emphasises.


    ¡°I have told you that your scientists do not yet understand correctly how time works. This, in some way, relates to the period you see depicted.¡±


    With a motion, she causes the image to start to move over the landscape, as if using a drone.


    ¡°This is your planet''s past, before the Saurons¡ªdinosaurs, you call them¡ªrose. And it will be the time you will have to negotiate and survive in if you choose past.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    What looks like a small village passes by in the distance.


    ¡°The people are very similar to your species of what you might think of as the early Saxon period. However, they have existed for over three millennia, so expect some inconsistencies in your own knowledge of history. Myth and legend always have an essence of truth to them¡ªa genetic memory, if you like. Your species has a fount of myth and legend, much of it from this distant past.¡±


    I laugh.


    ¡°My knowledge of history is what I had for breakfast yesterday and possibly some addled memories of punk rock and the miners¡¯ strikes. Though, to be fair, I spent much of that time pretty hammered.¡±


    ¡°Then you won¡¯t have any preconceived ideas,¡± she replies with a smile.


    The image changes. I¡¯m now looking at a city. It¡¯s not one I recognise, but I¡¯m not that well-travelled. It looks like any typical combination of urban overcrowding and chaotic sprawl.


    ¡°This is your planet now, and yet not,¡± Menolly explains. ¡°Timelines split and branch, and this is one of those branches. It experiences a lot of the same sorts of controversies and complexities as your own society, but very differently. The path their society has taken leads to many differences that may be disconcerting in their familiarity.¡±


    With a flicker, the screen changes again.


    ¡®What the bejesus¡ª¡¯ I jump, startling Misty, whose claws dig painfully into my leg.


    The screen shows a city of tall buildings collapsed into ruins. The sky is an angry reddish-brown with flashes of lightning illuminating the rain falling on the desolation. I can see a few shanty-style tents, ragged and barely holding up, dotted around. The few people I see scurry cautiously among the ruins or sit listlessly, trying to shelter from the rain as best they can.


    ¡°Is that really Earth?¡± I ask, hoping it¡¯s not.


    ¡°An alternate timeline, but yes. Your own timeline ends in five years.¡±


    ¡®Hmph, blunt but, I guess, accurate. OK, decision time, Del.¡¯


    ¡°So those are my choices, then,¡± I sigh. ¡°To be honest, Menolly, the choice makes itself. I¡¯ve had enough of the shit our world is in just now to not want to face another version that might even be worse.¡±


    She smiles.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say worse; I said very different.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, semantics, lass. And as for that last one¡ªno, just one big ¡®fuck off¡¯ nope.¡±


    ¡°Bear in mind, Del,¡± she reminds me, ¡°you may well end up facing those other two at a later point or even, potentially, other challenges I don¡¯t yet have information on. I can tell you that the decision you make forms the basis of your first cuvat. The Overmind is already assessing you and refining its data on your species.¡±


    ¡°Big Brother is watching me, then. Damn Orwell for poking his nose into things,¡± I say with a half-smile.


    ¡°My only reservation with choosing the past is I have no idea how to survive without a supermarket or freezer.¡±


    Menolly flicks her hand, and the horror show of future Earth 2 disappears.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Del,¡± she says. ¡°In the same way that the Overmind dealt with your injury and health issues on integration, prior to entering a phase, you will be given basic tools you need to make a start. It¡¯s hard to explain without being able to show you, but all will be apparent when you start.¡±


    ¡°What happens here when I¡¯m gone?¡± I ask. ¡°I don¡¯t have family, but I do have a few friends who might wonder and maybe worry. And my house?¡±


    Menolly¡¯s look is reassuring.


    ¡°Social media, Del,¡± she says. ¡°We will create some posts saying how, feeling bored, you have gone travelling for a while and follow that up with occasional pictures. I am sure you will have a great time touring the world for a bit.¡±


    I chuckle.


    ¡°Never did make a bucket list, but there sure are places I wish I¡¯d got to see. I might even get jealous of myself.¡±


    ¡°And we shall secure your home,¡± Menolly continues, ¡°so you don¡¯t have to worry about anything back here.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s it, then?¡± I ask. ¡°Three years to persuade Big Brother this sorry cesspit is worth saving. I mean, it¡¯s a really messed-up place with some total arseholes making up a large chunk of it. But it¡¯s ours, and I¡¯d rather it not get cracked like an egg.¡±


    I¡¯m nervous¡ªI can feel those irritating stomach tingles, and my pulse is thumping. Yet at the same time, I¡¯m excited. I know I¡¯ll pay for all the adrenaline coursing through me soon enough, but for now¡­Fear and anticipation.


    This is all a new and frightening well of emotions to experience.


    A life of dull monotony, and now¡ªthis.


    ¡®Tuesdays are never normally this exciting, mate,¡¯ I muse. ¡®Maybe it¡¯s Thursday. Thursdays are fun.¡¯


    ¡°That¡¯s the final thing to explain to you, Del,¡± she says as she stands and steps towards my chair. ¡°Time¡ªit works differently for this. Three years here could be far longer in your experience. Certainly, you have a deadline. But I can¡¯t tell you when that deadline is. So be smart and stick to task, whatever that may be.¡±


    Menolly reaches down, picks up Misty from where she¡¯s cleaning herself on the floor, and hands her to me.


    Then she touches my forehead.

 Chapter 5 – Breathing is good

    It¡¯s dark.


    Not black, more a sort of deep greenish-brown, like being underwater at night, in a brackish lake.


    ¡®What the hell, Del?¡¯ I try to look around, move, turn. In my head, I know I should be moving, but nothing happens.


    ¡®Is this what dead looks like?¡¯ I muse. ¡®I don¡¯t remember dying.¡¯ Though I think I¡¯m sitting. It feels like I¡¯m sitting.


    Which is strange, as I have no real concept or awareness of my body. Subconsciously, we¡¯re always aware of the simple fact that we have a body¡ªwe feel the contact with things around us, from skin on clothes to the feel of our feet on the ground or a chair pressing upon us.


    There¡¯s nothing.


    I mentally correct myself.


    ¡®What the heck is that?¡¯


    In all this numb blankness, the only thing, the only piece that doesn¡¯t fit the utter nothingness, is a weight¡ªonly slight, but definitely there. Right where my lap would be¡­ had I a lap in the first place.


    ¡®So, Del, has the grim reaper finally got your sorry arse?¡¯ Why am I not panicking?


    Good question. I try to panic. Nope, I can¡¯t do it.


    It¡¯s strange to be dead yet feel no emotion about it. Maybe that¡¯s the benefit of the long sleep¡ªno more emotional burden.


    I can¡¯t tell how long I hang there, in nothingness. It could be a moment, an hour. A lifetime?


    Am I breathing? ¡®Have to test that, Del¡ªa good way to see if you¡¯re really dead.¡¯


    I take a deep breath. And feel nothing. I send the signals I¡¯d normally send to my body, and¡ªnothing.


    ¡®Figures. Can¡¯t feel a body, so how can you feel if you¡¯re breathing? Del, you old sod. Daft as a bat, so no change there.¡¯


    The darkness brightens. Ahead, it¡¯s definitely getting brighter.


    ¡®So is it ¡°walk to the light,¡± or ¡°don¡¯t go into the light¡±?¡¯ One of these days, my shit memory will kill me, I think with an ironic chuckle.


    Well, without a body, I can hardly walk into or away from it, so I guess it¡¯s suck-it-and-see time.


    With a sudden whoosh that sets my heart pounding, the space around me fills with light. Adrenaline surges through my body, and I feel breathless at the rush.


    ¡®Heart¡ªyup, heart¡¯s good.¡¯ I rapidly assess my situation. ¡®Breathing, yes, breathing is definitely also good. OK, Del, not dead. Not dead is absolutely the best thing.¡¯


    On my lap, Misty gives a little mew, her nose bumping my hand. Absently, I stroke her head, gaining as much reassurance from the action as I give back to her.


    As my head clears, I remember the conversation I just had with Menolly.


    ¡®Damnit, lady. You could have warned me,¡¯ I growl to myself.


    I look around. I¡¯m sitting on a chair, in a space. I can¡¯t call it a room, as I can¡¯t see any walls¡ªor any other normal room things. Like a door, or windows, or floor!


    ¡®Floor¡­ OK, no floor. Seems par for the course, Del.¡¯ It¡¯s just a space that feels very room-ish.


    ¡°Hello?¡± I call out.


    For a moment, silence. Then an androgynous voice replies.


    ¡°Choose your path.¡±


    In front of me, three-dimensional images¡ªholograms?¡ªappear. They begin to rotate and move. It¡¯s fascinating but also thrilling and frightening in its implication.


    ¡®OK, Del, let¡¯s be logical,¡¯ I shake my head. ¡®Like that¡¯s ever been my thing.¡¯


    ¡°What path?¡± I say. ¡°A bit more explanation might be nice.¡±


    ¡°Your path will be the guiding approach you choose to use in interacting with this world,¡± it replies.


    ¡°What if I choose wrong?¡±


    ¡°There is no incorrect choice. All choices are valid and simply differ in their approach to unfolding events.¡±


    ¡®Why does it sound so much like a damned machine?¡¯ I grouse. ¡®Menolly may have been some machine or whatever she was, but at least she seemed real, human.¡¯


    ¡°Would it be too much trouble to explain my choices in a little bit of detail?¡± I quip, sarcasm dripping from my voice.


    A single image appears¡ªa generic warrior type, sword and shield in hand. As I watch, it starts to go through moves: swinging the sword, making blocking moves with the shield, footwork weaving and twisting through invisible foes.


    ¡°The fighter,¡± it intones. ¡°Capable with multiple weapon types or none at all.¡± The image shifts to one that looks more like a brawler, fists clenched and swinging.


    ¡°Able to use most armour types and can specialise in particular styles as experience grows.¡±


    ¡®Up front and getting bashed¡ªand that looks far too energetic.¡¯ I shake my head. ¡®My poor back aches just thinking about it.¡¯


    The vision of the fighter fades and is replaced with a figure in lighter clothing, holding a bow. It nocks an arrow and lets fly. It quickly shoulders the bow and draws a wicked-looking knife before crouching down to slink carefully along.


    ¡°The archer, also sometimes known as a ranger, is adept at attacking from a distance but also at using stealth to either sneak up to a target or extract themselves from situations. Other variations can also study the art of finding traps and disarming them. Rogues have a place in discovering secrets and working in the hidden depths.¡±


    ¡®Sneaky little bastard. Now that, Del, could be fun.¡¯


    As that figure fades, it¡¯s replaced by another, in robes with a long staff. Holding the staff upright and thrusting it forward, I watch as a bolt of lightning shoots out from an orb at its top.


    ¡°Mages, wizards, warlocks. All are terms for those who use elemental forces. While all paths have a degree of interaction with nature¡¯s forces, mages are their master. Weak at the beginning, their path can be slow and difficult, but if they survive the trials, they can wield great power.¡±


    ¡®What is it they say about power and responsibility?¡¯ I shrug. ¡®Then again, zapping things could be fun.¡¯


    ¡°You say there¡¯s no wrong path,¡± I say, ¡°but at the same time, I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m supposed to be doing.¡±


    The voice sounds puzzled, if a disembodied machine could sound puzzled.


    ¡°Menolly 14711 informed you of this prior to transferring you.¡±


    ¡°She did?¡±


    ¡°You are to survive,¡± it says bluntly. ¡°As you live and experience events in this place, you will be monitored. Your decisions and actions observed, analysed, and used in the Overmind¡¯s assessment of the potential place your species may have within the greater whole.¡±


    ¡®Del, have you ever wondered what a lab rat feels like?¡¯


    ¡°So, no great quest to slay a dragon or rescue a princess, then,¡± I ask, somewhat sardonically.


    ¡°Why would you want to slay a dragon?¡± it asks, this time definitely puzzled. ¡°I would not recommend this action, as it would likely result in you failing the primary task: to survive.¡±


    It pauses. ¡°I am also unaware of any royalty in need of rescuing at this moment in time. This may, however, change as world events are ever dynamic in nature.¡±


    ¡°Okay, so just survive,¡± I state. ¡°How long for? A week, a month, a year? We¡¯ve got a bit of a deadline going on back on Earth, you know.¡±


    ¡°The Overmind will determine the length of time required, depending on how it proceeds in its assessment. Time for your trial runs differently, and you may be here for a short or long time. However, time in your home world stream will not exceed one year in total.¡±


    So it¡¯s just simple choices, then.


    Well, the fighter guy is an easy no. Far too energetic for my taste. And bugger being the one facing up to some nasty bitey thing with just a shield between me and big teeth.


    So that leaves shooting things¡ªeither with arrows or spells. From a distance.


    ¡®That¡¯s the main thing, Del. Distance is your friend.¡¯ I think about that for a moment. ¡®But nothing says they can¡¯t throw rocks a long way or use a bow themselves.¡¯


    So what do I know, really know, about either of these types? Sweet bugger all, I realise.


    I¡¯ve never been a gamer or into any of that junk. I used a bow as a teenager what seems like centuries ago. If I remember right, I could barely hit the target.


    I watched Lord of the Rings years ago and got angry at how the final season of Game of Thrones ended, but that hardly makes me an expert on mayhem and magic.


    ¡°What happens once I¡¯ve made my decision?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Menolly 14711 gave you basic information on how to interact with the Overmind,¡± it says. ¡°If you accessed your status, you would have seen a basic flat set of values across the board.¡±


    ¡®Status,¡¯ I think. Sure enough, the image that pops up shows my name, that I¡¯m a level 1 human with no skills. ¡®Nice to see I¡¯m so talented,¡¯ I think, noting the 10s across the board apart from that.


    I close it with a thought.


    ¡°Choosing your path will cause the status to adjust to fit the role you have chosen. I will then also give you a basic run-through of how it works in relation to you and what you can do.¡±


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.¡°Not quite hitting the ground screaming, then,¡± I say. ¡°Alright then¡ªwhat do I call you?¡± I ask. It suddenly seems important. I have this disembodied voice floating around, and with the way I talk to myself so damn much¡ª


    ¡®Quit complaining, Del. If you didn¡¯t talk to yourself, you¡¯d have nobody to argue with.¡¯


    If I end up getting into a major discussion in my head with it, then it needs a name.


    ¡°I have no specific moniker,¡± it replies. ¡°I am simply the tutor bot assigned to your trial. If it will aid you, you may give me a reference that you prefer.¡±


    ¡°In which case, you are now ¡®Teach.¡¯¡± I smile. ¡°Alright, Teach, the fighter guy is out. I really can¡¯t see myself doing that swordy stuff.¡±


    ¡°Now, while being a bit of a Gandalf could be fun, it strikes me as very loud and attention-grabbing, and I really want to avoid attention if I can. Better survival prospects, I think.¡± I nod to myself. ¡°Decision made, Teach, my old chum.¡±


    I look up at the image floating in front of me, holding a bow.


    ¡°Just call me Robin Hood,¡± I laugh.


    There¡¯s a pause.


    ¡°Your name is Del Axholm. Would you like to change the status of your name to Robin Hood?¡±


    This brings about another small laugh. ¡°No, Teach, leave my name. That was a joke reference to a¡ªnever mind, it¡¯s not important, and jokes never work if they need explaining.¡±


    ¡°In which case, Del, I shall update your status to reflect your path choice.¡±


    For a moment, I feel a bit odd, as if my body is misbehaving. Really, it¡¯s difficult to describe, but I definitely feel my gut tighten up, and I feel¡­ I don¡¯t know, stronger? More supple?


    ¡°Um, Teach,¡± I say, ¡°are things supposed to be going on in my body? It feels damned weird.¡±


    ¡°Adjustments are being made,¡± it intones. ¡°Adjustments complete.¡±


    ¡®I miss Menolly; at least she didn¡¯t sound so mechanical,¡¯ I grumble to myself.¡°I guess that¡¯s a yes, then,¡± I say. ¡°Alright, Teach, teach me.¡±


    ¡°A status is unique to every being within the purview of the Overmind,¡± it says. ¡°You can only call up and see your own status and, as you have a companion, that of your feline.¡±


    ¡®Status.¡¯ I call up my screen so I can follow along as Teach explains.


    ¡°Your name, level, and path are at the top. If you are currently using an alias or hidden identity, it would also be shown here.¡±


    ¡°Hold up,¡± I interrupt. ¡°Level? What¡¯s that all about?¡±


    ¡°Have you ever played games¡ªcomputer type or role-playing style?¡± it asks.


    I think for a bit. ¡°Nope, can¡¯t say it was ever something that appealed to me. I had a guy at work a while back who kept inviting me to games nights, but not my type of thing, so I never went. Why?¡±


    ¡°When a species is undergoing monitoring for potential integration, various mechanisms are introduced gradually. These are designed to add basic concepts to the subconscious knowledge base of the species, making integration, should it happen, smoother and less disruptive.¡±


    ¡®Hmph, makes sense, I guess. Closest I ever got to one of those games was ignoring ads on social media and during web browsing.¡¯


    ¡°Fair enough. Consider me a complete idiot in terms of my knowledge,¡± I tell it.


    ¡°Levels 0 to 3 are basic beings, which make up the largest number of sentients in the Overmind. The primary way to increase level is through interaction with the environment. Often, this involves besting opponents, whether animal or sentient. This gains experience, and as thresholds are reached, your level will increase.¡±


    ¡°Are you telling me it¡¯s truly a dog-eat-dog cosmos full of conflict?¡± I say, taken aback. I didn¡¯t expect all harmony and light, but I didn¡¯t expect unbridled killing either.


    ¡°Not necessarily, Del,¡± Teach says. ¡°While rising through strength is a fundamental truth of all sentient life, there are other paths. A crafter can advance through creation, a diplomat through successful negotiation. The key is to advance by finding and following your own path.¡±


    ¡°Why wasn¡¯t I given those options?¡± I ask, a bit crossly. ¡°Everything you offered me was a path of combat and conflict.¡±


    There¡¯s a pause. ¡°You led a sedentary life¡ªfirst in an office, then limited by disability and pain. Yours was not a life of conflict or real challenge.¡±


    ¡°Had you been given the option of a role as a shopkeeper or crafter¡ªor any of a myriad of other sedentary jobs¡ªwhat would the Overmind have been able to infer from that?¡±


    ¡®I guess it makes sense, but even so,¡¯ I think. ¡®All you can do, Del, is give it your best and bugger the consequences.¡¯


    ¡°OK, I assume gaining levels will help me, then?¡± I respond.


    ¡°You are correct. Each level will affect your status. You¡¯ll discover exactly how as you progress.¡±


    ¡°So what¡¯s next?¡± I ask.


    ¡°The status is divided into various fields, all based on your race, path, and level. Health is exactly what it sounds like¡ªI¡¯d advise against letting this get to zero.¡±


    ¡®Damn, was Teach attempting humour?¡¯


    ¡°Mana powers spells and special attacks, and Spirit is similar, providing energy for resistance-type effects. Healers also rely on Spirit for their work.¡±


    ¡®Healers? I guess that¡¯s like a doctor path.¡¯ My head is starting to feel foggy. ¡®Damn, there¡¯s a lot to learn, and I¡¯m struggling.¡¯


    ¡°Stamina, Dexterity, and Agility are linked. The simplest way to think of it is: Stamina affects how long you can run, Dexterity helps you not trip while running, and Agility allows you to turn that trip into a neat roll back onto your feet.¡±


    ¡®Or, in my case, puff-puff, oops-oof.¡¯ I chuckle.


    ¡°Intelligence is not just how smart you are but also affects how fast you can learn new skills, special moves, or, eventually, spells. With a companion, it¡¯s especially important for communication.¡±


    ¡°Hold up.¡± I interrupt. ¡°I can talk to my cat like some sort of Dr. Dolittle?¡±


    ¡°I do not know this term, ¡®DoLittle,¡¯¡± Teach responds, ¡°but you will be able to communicate mentally. At first, it will be more about conveying feelings and simple thoughts over short distances. However, as your Intelligence¡ªand especially Misty¡¯s¡ªrises, communication will improve.¡±


    ¡®Well, I¡¯ll be damned,¡¯ I think, smiling broadly. ¡®I always wondered what that bloody cat was thinking.¡¯


    ¡°If Intelligence is understanding that a thing can be done, Wisdom is understanding if it should be done and anticipating the potential results, for good or ill. Finally, Presence is the impact you have on the world around you. It determines if you¡¯re liked, feared, respected, or mistrusted¡ªbasically, how you¡¯re perceived.¡±


    ¡°Is that all of it?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Apart from skills, yes. Skills work in their own tiers or levels. As you use a skill and improve, it may level up. With higher levels, more difficult special skills may become available. You have the basic skills needed to start your path, and you¡¯ll find ways to learn more as you explore.¡±


    I feel the air around me, the space I¡¯m in, becoming less tangible.


    ¡°I will now transport you to Gondowa. This is the land where you shall start your path on the planet known locally as Terras.¡±


    I hold Misty tightly and gently nuzzle her fur with my nose.


    ¡®Looks like you and I are going on an adventure, girl.¡¯ She gives a small mewl in reply and licks my finger.


    As the light in the space darkens, I think,


    ¡®Status.¡¯


    Name : Del Axholm


    Level : 1


    Path : Archer


    Health : 12


    Strength : 15


    Dexterity : 16


    Stamina : 15


    Intelligence : 11


    Wisdom : 12


    Mana : 5


    Spirit : 6


    Agility : 16


    Presence : 10


    Animal companion: Misty; feline


    Skills:


    Archery lvl 1 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bow and crossbow


    Woodcraft lvl 1 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.


    Tracking lvl 1 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.


    Traps lvl 1 ¨C can make basic snares and pit traps


    Sneak lvl 1 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.


    Attacks:


    Bow lvl 1 ¨C Simple Shot


    Dagger lvl 1 ¨C Stab, Slash


    Special Attacks:


    Bow:


    Sneak attack Lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage


    Dagger:


    Backstab lvl 1 ¨C Double damage


    Name : Misty


    Level : 1


    Path : Feline companion


    Health : 22


    Strength : 8


    Dexterity : 15


    Stamina : 11


    Intelligence : 4


    Wisdom : 6


    Mana : 2


    Spirit : 3


    Agility : 18


    Presence : 12


    Skills:


    Charm lvl 1 ¨C can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.


    Attacks :


    Claw lvl 1 ¨C Attacks with front claws.


    Rake lvl 1 ¨C Double rear leg attack.


    Bite lvl 1 ¨C It''s teeth all the way.


    Special attacks :


    Pounce lvl 1 ¨C Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage.


    Sneak Pounce lvl 1 ¨C As above; Triple damage

 Chapter 6 – Little ginger ninja.

    I¡¯m in that languid state between waking and sleeping, and through closed eyelids, I can see dappled light coming through my curtains and feel a gentle breeze.


    ¡®Must have left the window open,¡¯ I muse. ¡®I hope the damn cat didn¡¯t go out.¡¯


    As I stretch, I move my arm, feel her soft fur, and hear her gentle snores. That¡¯s a relief. I open my eyes.


    ¡°What the fuck!¡± I cry out, feeling a momentary panic.


    Above me isn¡¯t my ceiling but a roof of branches and leaves through which I can see an early dawn sky. I¡¯m not on my bed; beneath me is a carpet of soft grass, and I can now feel the slight dampness from an early dew. Memories flood back: Menolly, Teach, the Overmind.


    ¡®So not a dream then, Del,¡¯ I think as my heart rate steadies. ¡®Explains why the damn mattress felt lumpy, I guess.¡¯


    Sitting up, I look around. I¡¯m in some sort of wooded clearing. I can hear birdsong and, in the distance, the sound of running water. The grass is dotted with flowers here and there. I was never good with plants¡ªevery houseplant I ever had died a slow, lonely death. The trees around me are tall, with thick trunks and large leaves filling their many branches. The place feels serene and smells of spring.


    I feel eyes on me and look to my side. Misty, still curled up, looks up at me through lidded eyes.


    ¡°Hey, girl,¡± I say, reaching out to give her a little pet. She purrs, and I almost jump as I feel a small nudge against my mind. I reach for the thought instinctively, knowing it¡¯s Misty.


    I get the impression of hunger and a lazy desire for more nap time. I chuckle to myself. ¡®Pretty much what I always imagined her priorities to be.¡¯


    Near my feet, I see a small pile of items. Getting up, I crouch beside them to look through what¡¯s there.


    On top of a knapsack is a bow and a quiver of arrows. They look pretty rough to my uneducated eye. Alongside them is a belt with one small and one large knife in leather scabbards. A coarse rope completes the pile.


    Remembering some of my lessons, I look at the bow.


    ¡®Status.¡¯ Nothing happens. ¡®Hmm, details, info, what is it?¡¯


    This is getting frustrating.


    ¡®Dammit, Overmind, all I want to do is identify this damn bow!¡¯


    A screen flickers up.


    Crude bow: A bow made by an amateur hand. Good for hunting small game as long as it doesn¡¯t move too fast. Keep string dry or replace frequently.


    ¡®I can see you and I are going to need to learn to work together better, Mr Big Brother,¡¯ I grouse to myself. ¡®Could have at least given me a manual.¡¯ I pause at that thought and laugh out loud. ¡®Really, Del? When was the last time you actually read a bloody manual?¡¯


    Now that I know how, I quickly go through the rest of the items in the pile.


    Quiver: Can hold 20 arrows.


    Arrow: Rough-made, with leaf tip and goose feather fletching. Range up to 20 yards. Accurate to 10.


    Hunting knife: Rough steel, heavy hunting knife.


    Skinning knife: Also good for shaving; try not to skin your face.


    ¡®Bloody BB has a sense of humour at least.¡¯ My lips quirk into a smile. ¡®BB, hmph, good name for that Big Brother Overmind.¡¯


    I open the knapsack and go through its contents: a water bottle, and a bowl for Misty, which is nice. A loaf of bread, some cheese, and what looks like smoked sausage wrapped in greased paper. A couple of apples and a small pile of mixed seeds and nuts wrapped in a cloth. There¡¯s also a leather strop, very similar to the one my barber used to keep his razors sharp, along with some feathers and half a dozen arrowheads. Finally, there¡¯s a slightly rusty tin containing dry wood shavings and what looks like flint. The side of the tin has rough ridges running along it.


    ¡®I guess that¡¯s for fire-making 101 class.¡¯


    Looking at myself, I see I¡¯m dressed differently as well.


    ¡®Identify.¡¯


    Leather jerkin: Light armour. Gives minimal protection against slashing and piercing damage. Ineffective against concussive damage.


    Leather breeches: Light armour. Gives minimal protection against slashing and piercing damage. Ineffective against concussive damage.


    Basic boots: Light unarmoured footwear. Not too good if you stub your toe.


    I¡¯m also wearing a crude linen shirt, woollen socks, and something resembling rather itchy smalls to keep my undercarriage contained.


    ¡®Right then, Del, better get the day started.¡¯ I put most of the items away in the bag, hack off a lump of bread and cheese, and slice a few thin pieces of the sausage.


    ¡°Breakfast time, Misty¡ªwakey-wakey, girl.¡± She looks at me suspiciously but eventually gets up and wanders over.


    I pour some water into her bowl and place some cheese and meat beside it before tucking into my own morning fare. The bread is nutty and slightly sweet, pairing well with the meat and cheese. I finish it off with a few good gulps of water. Once she¡¯s done, I grab Misty¡¯s bowl and look around.


    ¡®Time to get on with surviving, I guess.¡¯ I scan the area once more to be sure I haven¡¯t missed anything. Turning towards where I can hear running water, I head off, Misty following at her own pace.


    ¡®I feel good.¡¯ The thought hits me, almost with surprise. ¡®I¡¯m not aching. I¡¯m yomping along, and my body isn¡¯t screaming at me to sit down and swallow some pills.¡¯ I smile broadly, feeling a definite spring in my step.


    ¡°What a glorious mor¡ª¡± There¡¯s a sudden thunk! as a shaft¡ªwhat must be an arrow¡ªsprouts from the tree beside me. I drop to the ground.


    ¡®Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.¡¯ Mentally slapping myself, I get a grip and carefully look around, pulling my own bow from my back.


    I feel a nudge against my mind from Misty. Looking in the direction it came from, I see her perched on a tree branch, looking down. Below her, a small, rat-faced, green-skinned creature lurks.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡®Identify¡¯


    Goblin Scout


    Level: 1


    Aggressive hunters and scavengers


    Strengths: Dexterity, Stealthy.


    Weaknesses: Being hit with pointy objects.


    Attacks: Bow, short sword, dagger.


    Skill: Hide in Shadows.


    Lore: Usually found in small to medium-sized groups, often family-based. Known to be cowardly in nature; they prefer to run from a fight unless confident in having a distinct advantage.


    Drawing my bow, I hold my breath, aim, and let it fly. I watch as the arrow wobbles through the air to land heroically in a bush several feet from the goblin.


    ¡®C¡¯mon, Del, you need to do better than that.¡¯ I mutter to myself, heart pounding and palms sweaty. ¡®What the hell do I do if I can¡¯t hit him? I¡¯m bloody sure he can hit me.¡¯


    The goblin returns fire, and I throw myself to the ground as one of its small arrows whistles through the space where my head just was. As I land, I hear a muffled crack. With a groan, I look down to see my bow, now snapped, lying in the dirt. ¡®Perfect,¡¯ I think. ¡®Just perfect.¡¯


    A distinct feeling of pity¡ªyes, pity¡ªregisters from Misty, and, looking up at her, I see her arch her back, bum in the air, giving a little wiggle before leaping from the tree onto the unsuspecting goblin below. Leaping to my feet, I pull out my knife and rush forward to help.


    [Misty has performed a Pounce attack on goblin scout.] A voice rings in my head.


    ¡®Does BB do commentary now?¡¯


    [Misty has caused critical damage to goblin scout.]


    Arriving as Misty jumps off the goblin, I see its bloody back and neck, oozing red from multiple slashes. The creature groans and begins to push itself up from the ground. Without thinking, I plunge my knife into its back.


    With a small, expelled breath, the goblin collapses back, lifeless, to the ground.


    [You have killed goblin scout. Experience gained.]


    Feeling a bit light-headed, I sit down, resting my back against the tree, head in my hands. Had I really just killed? I¡¯ve never been a violent man¡ªthe most dangerous thing I¡¯ve tackled was a wasp. I hear a strange sound and realise, with a start, it¡¯s me. My cheeks are wet; I¡¯m crying. Be it the comedown from a massive adrenaline rush or the knowledge that I¡¯ve crossed some inviolate line, the result is the same. For the first time in my adult life, I feel my body shake as emotion-laden sobs rack through me.


    After a while, I feel warm fur nuzzling against me, and a questioning thought nudges my mind.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Misty.¡± I stroke her gently. ¡°I¡¯ll be okay; that just hit me harder than I thought. You did great, though, girl.¡± She rolls over and grapples my hand as I tickle her belly. ¡°My little ginger ninja.¡± I smile, take a long, deep, shuddering breath, and wipe my eyes.


    ¡®So survival¡¯s not all sweet treats and roses,¡¯ I realise. ¡®Del, my old son, I think we¡¯re going to find this more challenging than I imagined.¡¯ I¡¯m certain this won¡¯t be the last time I have to defend myself, and it sure brings the ¡°survive¡± part into perspective.


    ¡°What do you think we should do now?¡± I ask Misty.


    She looks at me, then glances disdainfully at the goblin, wanders over to it, gives it a sniff, then turns her back and flicks a couple of paws¡¯ worth of dirt at the body, just as she¡¯d do with her litter box back home. I guess she feels the same way about this dead creature.


    ¡°Alright, I suppose we should clear up here and move on before scavengers come to gnaw on its bones.¡±


    I step to the body and, grimacing, pull my knife free with a nauseating squelch, wiping it on the goblin''s ragged shirt. Rolling the body over, I can¡¯t help but mutter, ¡®Damn, you¡¯re one ugly little mofo.¡¯ Its small beady eyes, now rolled to the back of its head, a hooked nose, and pointed, sharp little teeth set in a mouth far too large for its face.


    With my own bow broken, I decide the goblin¡¯s weapon might be useful and pick it up. I also take its quiver, a crude sword, and a small knife. A quick search reveals a pouch containing a few round copper tokens, likely currency. ¡®Waste not, want not, Del. No different than digging for change down the back of the sofa.¡¯ I feel dirty, like some grave robber, and it feels wrong, but it¡¯s also survival, and not just mine.


    ¡®I really don¡¯t like this responsibility, the reason I¡¯m here. If I think about it too much, it¡¯s just too much. I wasn¡¯t built for that kind of pressure.¡¯


    Just get on, do whatever I must, and ultimately¡ªlearn, grow, and survive.


    I consider burying him but reject the idea, mostly because I don¡¯t have a shovel, and also because... just because.


    I return to my broken bow to see if it¡¯s repairable and quickly see it¡¯s not. But I do take the string. I don¡¯t have any spares and have no idea when I might find more. As I start heading towards the sound of running water, I detour to retrieve my arrow from a bush, and a thought strikes me.


    ¡®If Mr. Green was a scout, who was he scouting for?¡¯


    It¡¯s possible he was just out hunting rabbits or whatever else goblins hunt, but I can¡¯t assume that. If he was part of some other group, there might be more scouts around. And if he doesn¡¯t make it back, someone might come looking for him.


    I send out a thought to Misty, envisioning the stream we¡¯re heading for and then imagining more little green men between us and it. I picture her scouting for the men. Misty looks at me for a moment, head tilted to one side, before sitting down, lifting a leg, and meticulously washing herself. When she¡¯s done, she gives me a little meep, then disappears into the undergrowth, running ahead. I adjust my gear, hoping it won¡¯t rattle, and, being as careful and quiet as I can, continue as the woods start to slope downhill.


    As I move, I keep a mantra-like dialogue to myself.


    ¡®Keep low, mind that twig, loose stone, careful Del. No tripping, pause, listen. Okay, carry on.¡¯


    I don¡¯t know if it helps, but after about an hour, I reach the stream, my body screaming from the tension of creeping through the woods.


    Misty sits on a rock by the stream, chewing on a fish. She gives me a quizzical look.


    ¡°I¡¯m not as fast or as sneaky as you, so of course you got here faster,¡± I tell her indignantly. I go to the stream, splash refreshingly cold water on my face, then fill my bottle and take a long drink.


    With a groan, I lie back on a flat slab of rock, putting my pack under my head. ¡°Wake me if you hear or see anything, girl,¡± I say to her. ¡°I¡¯m going to see if a small nap helps ease this tension I¡¯ve got going on.¡±


    Misty gives me a short mewl of assent and then goes back to gnawing her fish as I close my eyes.

 Chapter 7 – We need a plan.

    The smell of smoke was thick and the heat of the flames made my skin tighten.


    Desperately, I look around. Where was the door? I can¡¯t tell; the smoke is too thick and oily. I can taste the swirling ash in the back of my throat, making me hack and cough as I fight for breath.


    Dropping down to a crouch in hopes of finding some slightly breathable air, I blindly struggle forward, reaching out with my hand, trying to find a wall or, better yet, a door or window. I need to get out¡ªand fast.


    I¡¯m sweating profusely; my eyes sting and run with tears that rapidly evaporate, leaving them feeling dry and itchy. My hand touches something metal, instantly blistering my skin with its heat, but I grip it anyway¡ªa door handle.


    Yanking the door open, I fall outside and draw in a ragged breath. Even stinking of smoke and flame, it¡¯s cool against my parched throat.


    Around me, chaos erupts¡ªpeople are screaming as they run from burning buildings. Everything seems to be on fire, with pops and bangs filling the air, competing with the roar of flames and the cries of the dying.


    Everywhere I look, it¡¯s madness. Men, women, and children are in terrified panic. Those who aren¡¯t already dead, or flailing and screaming as their hair and clothes burn, are making feeble efforts to throw water on the flames.


    Too little. Far too little.


    I collapse to the ground as the world burns around me.


    I cry out as a weight falls across my face. I can¡¯t breathe. I¡¯m being smothered.


    With a jerk, I sit up, almost catapulting Misty from where she had lain across me. I look around wildly. The stream burbles sedately on its way, and the nearby trees gently rustle. I¡¯m dripping with sweat, and my heart pounds as the images in my mind slowly dissipate.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± I utter in a shaky voice. On weak legs, I go to the stream and duck my head under for a moment. I strip off my sweat-soaked garments and lay them out on a rock to dry in the afternoon sun. Stepping into the water, I wade out to the middle and sit down in the fast-flowing stream, lying back to let it wash over me.


    ¡®Damn nightmare. Can¡¯t remember the last time I had one of those¡ªand too damn real for my liking.¡¯ After a minute, I feel the cold rinse away the leftover traces of fear and alarm. I climb, shivering slightly, back to the bank and sit down on the warm rock to let the air dry me.


    ¡®Not really surprising, dreaming batshit crazy stuff,¡¯ I muse as I munch on a hunk of bread. ¡®Damn, Del, you should be screaming and banging your head on a wall with all that¡¯s happened.¡¯ I cant my head in thought. ¡®Then again, Del, maybe you have gone mad, and this is what the inside of a padded cell looks like through psycho eyes.¡¯


    Misty, standing on a small rock midstream, gives me a look of admonishment as this thought goes through my head. She disdainfully flicks a fish out of the water that almost hits me.


    ¡°OK, OK, cat. I wouldn¡¯t drag you into my crazy, so I guess that means neither of us is in some cuckoo land.¡± I smile. ¡°Now see if you can grab a few more of those tiddlers, and we¡¯ll make a supper of them later.¡±


    Once dried and dressed, I call Misty and head back into the wood. The woods aren¡¯t very dense, and the trees, with thick trunks, reach up a good eighty feet, with large deep-green leaves and coarse bark. Dappled sunlight filters through in a dancing pattern of light and shadow. The smell is crisp and fresh, filled with the scent of flowers and plants mingling with deeper earthy undertones. Birds pause their song momentarily as I pass beneath, then quickly resume as if they sense I¡¯m no threat. I¡¯m entranced by it all, taking in the atmosphere in a way I missed the day before in my fear of the unknown. I¡¯m still cautious, watching and moving as quietly as I can, but this time more relaxed. Misty roams somewhere ahead of me, and I occasionally catch a brief glimpse of a ginger tail disappearing past a bush or scaling a tree.


    [Sneak has improved slightly. Try not to get caught.] The voice of BB makes me jump slightly. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll get used to its intrusions one day.


    Making a rough circle around the stream, I start to head back, fairly sure there are no obvious traces of more goblins close by. I do see a few tracks that to my eye most closely resemble rabbit, and possibly a small deer. I¡¯ll soon need to start thinking about hunting for fresh meat¡ªor consign myself to a diet of cat-caught tiddlers.


    ¡®I wonder if there¡¯s a village or farm nearby.¡¯


    Smelling something herby nearby, I search about and find a small plant in the shadow of a bush.


    ¡®Identify.¡¯


    Feldspar: A medicinal plant useful in tinctures and poultices to ease bruising and reduce pain.


    I carefully pick the plant.


    ¡®Useful. Damn it, Del, I wonder how many other useful things I¡¯ve idly walked past.¡¯


    I start to look more carefully around as I continue back toward the stream. Soon, I¡¯ve found several different mushrooms hidden in the undergrowth. Most are pretty basic, edible mushrooms, but two¡­ well¡­


    ¡®Identify.¡¯


    Spintofore: A hallucinogenic fungus. Don¡¯t sniff the spores, and definitely don¡¯t eat the cap.


    Sombercap: Toxic. Can be used to make a mild paralytic poison. Can be used to coat weapons.


    These could prove very useful. I gather the fungi carefully, using a rag to hold them.


    [You have learned the skill: Herbalism. Identify and gather more plants and fungi to expand this skill further.]


    ¡®Nice one, Del,¡¯ I smile to myself. ¡®Seems I can pick up skills by trial and error.¡¯ I just need to figure out what I need to do to earn the skill or upgrade.


    As I got closer to my erstwhile campsite, I gathered up some fallen branches and assorted brush. If I was going to have fish, I needed to cook it. I had no idea if that would be safe or not, but I¡¯d done all I could think of to check that the local area was clear of little green men who might want to kill me.


    A couple of hours and a small pile of fishbones later, with a comfortably full stomach, I sat by the glowing remains of my campfire, pondering my next moves.


    One thing I knew for sure¡ªI needed to practice using the damn bow. My one shot in anger had gone so far off target, I might as well have been shooting at the moon. I also needed to get to grips with the fact that, though this wasn¡¯t the person I used to be, this version of me needed to buckle up and develop a stronger stomach. No way was that goblin the only thing I was going to come across that wanted to either kill or eat me¡ªor possibly both.


    Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s kill, then eat, Del, old boy. I really don¡¯t fancy it being the other way around. I give a little shiver at the thought. So, practice with the bow. I had limited ammo. The original twenty arrows were a bit big for the smaller goblin bow, but they¡¯d do in a pinch. The bow I got from that fight had another fourteen smaller arrows. While, in theory, my basic archery skill let me know how to repair and sharpen them, it didn¡¯t really tell me how to make new ones. I¡¯d have to take time to learn that when I could.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.This meant I needed to figure out a safe way to practice while minimizing the risk of breaking or losing the arrows I had.


    ¡®You don¡¯t want the arrow you need to be the one you broke trying to get out of a tree trunk,¡¯ I thought.


    ¡°Misty,¡± I say, ¡°we need a plan.¡± She gives me a quizzical look. ¡°We need a couple of things: a place to train, better food, and I think we can find much of that if we can locate some sort of settlement. What do you think?¡± She pauses in the essential task of cleaning her face, glancing up and downstream a few times before fixing her gaze on the flow.


    In my head, I feel that nudge I know is from her, one of assent.


    ¡°I think you¡¯re right.¡± I smile. ¡°In the meantime, we keep a lookout for potential bad things that want to eat us and maybe even something for us to eat for dinner.¡±


    It doesn¡¯t take me long to gather our meagre belongings, and we begin our trek along the stream, Misty ranging ahead to scout the way. We continue for maybe half an hour¡ªit¡¯s hard to tell without a watch, and my history of burnt dinners proves my ineptitude at judging the passage of time accurately.


    My mind fills with a vague image of what looks like a pig.


    ¡®Well done, girl,¡¯ I think back to her. ¡®Looks like you¡¯ve found our dinner.¡¯


    Crouching low and keeping to the solid rock sides of the stream wherever possible, I creep forward. As I round a bend, I see a small glade, maybe twenty to thirty yards across, dappled in late afternoon sun and thick with small flowers poking through the grass. Across the glade, rooting around the base of a large tree, is the most not pig I think I¡¯ve ever seen.


    This thing is big and looks brutal, with powerfully built shoulders that must reach almost a yard and a half high. A thick mat of hair flows down its sloping back toward equally muscular haunches. Its head¡ªoh dear god, its head¡ªis broad, with small scrunched-up eyes and a tapered snout ending in two very large, very sharp-looking, very I-don¡¯t-want-to-play-with-those tusks jutting out from its lower jaw. The creature is using its snout and tusks to root and dig among the roots, searching for whatever it¡¯s after.


    ¡®Identify.¡¯


    Forest Boar ¨C Beast, male


    Level: 1


    Aggressive, territorial


    Strengths: Strength, toughness


    Weaknesses: Short-sighted


    Attacks: Tusks, trample


    Skill: Charge


    Lore: Boars are highly aggressive beasts that startle easily and will attack if they feel threatened. Males are solitary except when breeding. Females move in family groups of mixed age adult females and piglets.


    I carefully take my bow and notch an arrow, trying to slow my heart rate and breathing.


    ¡®Misty, distract if you can, but be careful. Wait for my shot.¡¯ I don¡¯t know where exactly she is, but I feel her understanding through our mental link. I quickly scan the area to see if anything might get in my way¡ªor maybe even help. I take aim, hold my breath, and... with a twang, I let the arrow fly. This time it flies true, hitting the boar in the shoulder with a satisfying thunk. The resultant screaming squeal echoes through the glade as the boar¡¯s head jerks up, sniffing the air, before zeroing in on my scent.


    Then, it charges.


    The ground seems to shake as it thunders toward me, head lowered and those evil tusks pointed directly at me. I toss my bow safely to the side as I roll the other way, just managing to avoid the oncoming bulk.


    Scrambling to my feet, I draw the pilfered sword and crouch, watching as the boar skids to a halt, turns, and rushes back at me.


    ¡®If those things hit, they¡¯re going to bloody well hurt.¡¯


    I scramble to clear its path, trying to swipe down with my blade as it barrels past. It suddenly twists its head, bashing me in the side. I feel my foot slip as a rush of expelled air bursts from my lips, and I go down hard.


    I hear another angry "screee" from the boar and see as it turns towards me, my cat on its back, hanging on with front claws as she rakes its side. The boar gives an almighty shake, and Misty goes flying off with a yowl of protest.


    In a moment, the boar is on top of me. A foot lands on my thigh, and pain rips through me. Its tiny, evil-looking eyes glare down at me as it twists its head to drive its tusks into my unprotected chest.


    In an act of pure desperation, I thrust up with the sword. The point pierces its throat and upward into the creature''s brain. With my other hand, I manage to deflect the falling tusk as the boar collapses, dead, on top of me.


    Feeling tears of pain start to trickle from my eyes, I struggle out from under the beast.


    ''Damn, this thing is fucking heavy,'' I think, as the pain in my thigh starts to really hit home.


    "Shit, that hurts. Hey Misty, are you alright, girl?" I call out.


    I see her cautiously approaching to sniff at the dead body. Once I know she¡¯s alright, I turn my attention to my own injuries. I carefully ease down my leather breeches to better examine my thigh.


    ''Broken skin, bruising is already starting to show, no major bleeding though. Del, looks like you got off lightly.''


    I hobble over to the stream and find a couple of small flat rocks, taking out a couple of the Feldspar leaves I had collected yesterday. I carefully crush them, adding a little water to create a paste. I had no idea if I was doing this right, but all I could do was try. Once I had the paste looking thick and sticky, I gently slathered it onto my injured leg.


    Almost immediately, I felt a warmth spread through the area, and the pain numbed down considerably. I sighed in relief and sat at the stream edge. That fight was too damn close for my liking, and I knew I was lucky to get away with just some minor injuries.


    ''Still managed to stick it with that arrow, though, Del,'' I grin. ''Not too bad at all for an amateur.''


    Now calm, I became aware of a quiet beeping noise. Notifications, I thought. Pleased I hadn¡¯t been bombarded with them as I was fighting.


    [Your sneak ability has slightly improved]


    [Forest boar hits you for 3 points of damage, agility compromised]


    [You have killed Forest boar. Experience earned]


    [Herbalism has improved slightly]


    [You have progressed on your primary Cuvat: Survive. Points added]


    This last one made me smile, a lot.


    ''Well, Del, my old chum. Looks like we are doing something right.''


    Now let''s deal with this pig and think about supper.


    I cut a small strip of cloth from the hem of my shirt and use it to wrap my thigh before pulling up my breeches and going back to the boar. On the way, a quick detour to retrieve my, thankfully undamaged, bow, and then it¡¯s on with a messy job. I strip off my jerkin and shirt and move them out of the way before unsheathing my skinning knife.


    ''How the hell do I do this?'' I mutter to myself. ''This is so much easier from the supermarket meat counter.''


    With a resigned sigh, I set to work, trying to remember any random tips I''d picked up over the years from those survival shows on TV. I kneel by the boar, and make a small cut in its tough hide near the belly, gripping the skin with one hand as I work the knife underneath to get a decent strip started.


    "Right, Del," I mutter to myself, "just remember¡­ slow and steady."


    The blade drags through the hide, and after a lot of awkward sawing, I manage to peel back a decent section. The smell hits me full force, far more intense than I expected, and I pull a face, doing my best not to gag. Misty watches me with an expression that clearly says, Amateur, but she flicks her tail and returns to cleaning her paws, probably deciding to let me muddle through on my own.


    I continue cutting, working the meat free from the bone as best I can and setting aside several manageable chunks. After what feels like an eternity, my hands sticky with blood and sweat, I sit back and survey my work¡ªrough, but enough for a few meals.


    "Guess it''ll do, eh, Misty?" I say, holding up a chunk of meat. She sniffs at it with mild interest before looking away, clearly unimpressed.


    ¡°Time to cook girl,¡± I say to her. ¡°Let¡¯s see if you are so fussy with a hunk of bacon in front of you.¡±

 Chapter 8 - Too early for cats.

    I stand at the stream''s edge and look at my gore-covered arms; blood and viscera reach past my elbows, with splashes over most of my torso. I start washing it off in the cold, fast-running water, watching the red swirl away. That had been a lot harder than I¡¯d imagined. That beast was heavy, and, to be fair, I¡¯d never really considered how my steak got from field to plate. This was very different from what I had in mind when I started. Clean now, I take a few gulps and turn back to survey my efforts with the boar.


    ¡®Damn, Del, I can see why it''s called butchery,¡¯ I quip to myself.


    In front of me is a pile of almost-joints of meat, hacked and chopped with little understanding or knowledge of the correct way to deal with a dead animal. Alongside it is a pile of guts, still slightly steaming in the fading afternoon light. Misty is happily tucking into something large and deep mahogany coloured. From its size, I¡¯d guess it may be the liver.


    The badly tattered remains of its skin lie in three uneven pieces, grisly side up. While doing my best to remove it from the carcass, I got notified that I¡¯d learned the skinning skill. Any hopes of a butchery skill didn¡¯t materialize. Looking at the mess in front of me, I¡¯m surprised I even managed the skinning one. Thanks to that skill, I know I¡¯ll have to properly prepare and preserve the skin if I want to make it usable. But for now, I¡¯ve had enough.


    ¡°Right then, Misty, finish up. We¡¯ll grab the best bits, then move on downstream before the night critters come out to find this pile of easy dinner.¡±


    I pick out a slab of nice fatty belly and a leg haunch to take, wrapping them in the biggest bit of skin. I shrug back into my gear, make sure I have everything else, and continue down the stream.


    About half an hour and what I feel is enough distance later, we find a small, shallow cave¡ªmore of a little hole¡ªwe can shelter in for the night. Dropping my bag and meat bundle, I start gathering dry wood for a fire.


    ¡°Go sniff around and see if there¡¯s anything nasty nearby, Misty.¡± She looks at me and, with a little ¡®Meep,¡¯ disappears into the dusk. At the entrance of the little cave, I clear the ground and make a little hollow for my fire. I find a reasonably sized, flat rock and set it beside the fire.


    ¡®Let¡¯s see how right Bear Grylls was,¡¯ I chuckle. In theory, the stone gets hot, and I can cook the food on it. I get the fire going and head back to the stream to fill my water bottle. Standing up, I stretch and feel the pops and crackles from my back and shoulders as I do.


    ¡®You know, Del,¡¯ I muse, ¡®this could be a lot more shit than it has been so far.¡¯


    I slice off a good hunk of pork belly and lay it on the rock.


    ¡®I need to look out for herbs and things,¡¯ I think. ¡®Salt as well¡ªdefinitely salt. Maybe there¡¯s rock salt somewhere.¡¯ I laugh. ¡®Really, Del? Planning to lick every damn rock you find in case it¡¯s salty?¡¯ In reality, I have no idea what salt would look like or where to find it. It sure wouldn¡¯t be nice neat flakes and crystals ready for sprinkling.


    As the meat starts to sizzle in its rendering fat, I look out from my little shelter. The cave is no more than fifteen feet deep and just tall enough for me to stand without worrying about banging my head. It smells earthy, and toward the back is a pile of leaf and grass litter, blown in by the wind, I guess. It¡¯ll serve as a makeshift bed, and the fire at the entrance should dissuade anything too interested from disturbing my sleep. Misty returns, and I feel her mental nudge giving me an all-clear vibe.


    ¡°Alright, girl, dinner and bed sound good to you?¡±


    I hack off a bit of the less-cooked side for her, and we eat in quiet contemplation.


    I wake as the pre-dawn light is starting to color the distant sky. The fire I¡¯d banked up the night before is glimmering with its dying sparks. With a bit of a shiver, I place a couple of branches on it and give the embers a poke to encourage it back to life. Misty is half-buried in the leaf litter at the back of the cave. She opens an eye lazily to look at me, then closes it again in disgust.


    ¡®Too early for cats, obviously,¡¯ I grump.


    A little later, having broken my fast with the last of the bread and cheese, I wake the cat, and we head off on our downstream trek. For the most part, the morning passes pleasantly. The woods on either side of the river fill the air with the sounds of insects and bird life, with the occasional silver splash of a fish breaking the surface in the river. What was once a stream is broadening into a slower-flowing river, its burbling sounding in harmony with the song of the birds. The air is filled with the smell of damp earth and wood sap. Occasional plants catch my attention, and as well as more feldspar, I find a few other interesting herbal plants. Some I recognize as sorrel, sage, and dandelion. These will make a great addition to my efforts to cook a tasty meal. Others are ones I don¡¯t know.


    ¡®Identify¡¯


    Silverbloom: Medicinal plant. All parts are useful; the leaves and stems can be crushed and used in a poultice to encourage rapid healing of deep cuts and lacerations. The flowers, which give it its name, can be placed on the tongue to ease sore throats and coughs. The roots can be dried and ground to make a tea to fight infection and reduce fever.


    Bloodroot Fern: Medicinal plant. Named for the deep red veins running through its leaves. Soften the leaves in hot water. Use it to wrap a broken bone; acts as a temporary splint as it dries and accelerates bone healing.


    [Herbalism has increased slightly]


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I gather what I can, pretty sure I miss far more interesting plants than I find. Misty continues to roam ahead, stopping occasionally to snack on an unwary mouse or a captured fish.


    ¡®Damn cat¡¯s having the time of her life,¡¯ I think, smiling at her antics. I¡¯m so glad I brought her with me. ¡®I¡¯d be going mad by now if all I had to talk to was myself.¡¯


    I stop as I see Misty freeze ahead with a quiet hiss, dropping to her belly. In a moment, I¡¯m down low too, carefully looking around. Slowly, I unsling my bow and pull an arrow from the quiver, wishing I¡¯d taken time to practice with the thing. Adjusting my belt so my sword and knives won¡¯t catch as I crouch, I move as quietly as I can up to join Misty. Up ahead, in a small clearing, is a fire. Three goblins sit around it, with something in a rough burlap sack wriggling and struggling within.


    The goblins are small and rough-looking, similar to the scout I encountered the other day. I don¡¯t see any bows from where I hide, but each has knives, and one also carries a sword. Their clothing is essentially untanned skins and patchwork cloth. I could possibly sneak past them, but that would leave them at my back, and if they spotted me, things would get messy fast. I carefully scan the trees for other guards but see none.


    ¡®Identify¡¯


    Goblin Grunt


    Level: 0


    Aggressive hunters and scavengers


    Strengths: Dexterity, Cunning


    Weaknesses: Being hit with pointy objects


    Attacks: Dagger


    Skill: Unknown


    Lore: Usually found in small to medium-sized groups, often family-based. Known to be cowardly in nature, they prefer to run from a fight unless confident they have a distinct advantage.


    Goblin Grunt


    Level: 0


    Aggressive hunters and scavengers


    Strengths: Dexterity, Cunning


    Weaknesses: Being hit with pointy objects


    Attacks: Dagger


    Skill: Unknown


    Lore: Usually found in small to medium-sized groups, often family-based. Known to be cowardly in nature, they prefer to run from a fight unless confident they have a distinct advantage.


    Goblin


    Level: 1


    Aggressive hunters and scavengers


    Strengths: Dexterity, Cunning


    Weaknesses: Being hit with pointy objects


    Attacks: Sword, Dagger


    Skill: Unknown


    Lore: Usually found in small to medium-sized groups, often family-based. Known to be cowardly in nature, they prefer to run from a fight unless confident they have a distinct advantage.


    ¡®Alright, Del, I¡¯d assume the grunts are lowest on the goblin food chain, so priority is the other one.¡¯ I look at Misty. I wish I could talk to her properly. Capturing her mind with mine, I indicate a tree between us and the green trio, signaling a pounce attack like before as they run under. She gives me one of her looks, but something must have got through as she disappears into the underbrush, and moments later, I see her scaling the tree. As I nock my arrow, I can¡¯t help feeling a tremble¡ªfear, anticipation, maybe both. Whatever the case, there¡¯s no time to consider it now.


    I steady my breath, feel my heartbeat slow, and wait for the right moment to loose. As the arrow flies, I quickly pull another and line up a second shot. The first misses the goblin I aimed for but luckily hits a grunt right beside his ear. With a little squeal, he drops to the ground.


    [You have killed Goblin Grunt. Experience earned.]


    The other two jump up and look in my direction. The goblin shouts something and points right at me just as I let the second arrow fly. As they pull weapons and head towards me, the bigger goblin takes an arrow in his arm. Growling angrily, he snaps it off and keeps coming.


    [Archery has increased slightly.]


    I drop my bow and pull my sword, and with what I¡¯m sure is a fearsome battle cry¡ªthough others might disagree¡ªI charge towards my foes.


    Misty leaps, landing heavily on the back of the second grunt. It squeals, trips, and lands face-first in the dirt, with Misty furiously raking and biting its back.


    [Misty has used Pounce on Goblin Grunt. Sneak attack, Critical damage.]


    In the next moment, I¡¯m face to face with an angry, sword-wielding green monster. I have a sword too; the only real difference is I¡¯ve never used mine in anger except almost by accident when killing a big pig.


    He slashes at me, and I jump back, barely avoiding the edge. I shove my sword forward, hoping to spear his chest, but he almost scornfully bats aside my blade and comes in for another strike. This time, he catches my arm, and now, in a karmic twist, we both have off-arm injuries. The only real difference is mine bleeds; his, still plugged by the arrowhead, only drips a little.


    [Misty has killed Goblin Grunt. Experience earned.]


    ¡®At least one of us can fight,¡¯ I think, angry at myself. ¡®C¡¯mon, Del, sort this little bastard before he sorts you.¡¯


    I dodge another swipe, this time at my neck, and thrust back. As he tries to deflect it, I quickly change the angle downwards and slash heavily into his thigh. His turn to bleed now.


    The goblin grunts with effort as I back away, and he hobbles towards me. Behind him, I see Misty lining up, ready to leap. As I see her spring up, I thrust forward, causing him to take a step back¡ªright into Misty¡¯s claws and teeth. He yells out in pain, distracted for a fraction of a second, and that¡¯s enough for my sword to plunge into his chest. With a gasp, he falls backwards, sliding off my blade.


    [You have killed Goblin. Experience earned.]


    [Congratulations, you have enough experience to level up. Would you like to level up now?]


    ¡®Well then,¡¯ I say to myself. ¡®There''s a thing. Let''s gather up what we can, Del old boy, then see what that is about by their fire. I don¡¯t think they need it now.¡¯

 Chapter 9 - Roast pork and conversation.

    I look down at the crumpled body of the goblin at my feet, I still felt revulsion at the fact that I had again killed what appeared to be a creature with at least a degree of sentience. But I didn¡¯t feel the nausea and turmoil I had after I killed the scout.


    ¡®Must be true what they say Del. You can get used to anything, given time¡¯


    With a grimace, I bend down and, with its tattered shirt, wipe the gore from my blade before sheathing it.


    As the rush of adrenalin leaves my body I become aware of a growing pain and throb in my arm, I look down at the slash wound I had received. In the chaos of the moment I had almost forgotten about that. It was a little surprising that it had already stopped bleeding, even though the wound looked nasty.I had some silverbloom from earlier so I crushed some up and applied the lumpy paste to my arm and let it do its thing.


    ¡®Stings¡¯ I grunted with a hiss.


    ¡°Misty, are you ok girl?¡± I call to her as I start to search the small green bodies. She looks up from her task of meticulously cleaning her fur of any sign of combat, mewls softly and goes back to her task.


    My search didn¡¯t reveal much in the way of useful pickings. A couple of their small knives and a worn out sword in far worse shape than the one I already used. Alongside that, I gathered up 23 copper pieces and one that looked like either tin or silver and a small battered pot of what smelt like feldspar paste, though it looked little like the rough and ready poultice I had prepared back by the river.


    Once I had gathered what I could I made my way back to their small camp. Time to see what they had caught in their bag.


    The camp was untidy, with rough litter bedding and a couple of logs for sitting on, small well gnawed on bones were scattered about and an empty waterskin lay to one side. The only item of real interest was the sack, which still wriggled about, almost frantically. From within I could hear muffled noises but was unable to pick out anything resembling words, just noises possible from an animal of some kind.


    Carefully I cut the sack from the tree and hauled it over to the fire. Setting it down on its side, it had gone very still.


    ¡®Be ready for anything Misty¡¯ I think at the cat as she crouches down on the other side of the sack.


    With a quick snick I cut the tie closing the sack and despite being braced ready for come what may, I am almost bowled over by a small filthy dirty, naked wriggling form that leaps at me with fingers outstretched like claws.


    I grapple with it and with my bigger bulk quickly pin it under me, subduing, a girl?


    As I take in the face below me I see big dark eyes, looking back in terror, long filthy tangled hair a small nose, a mouth panting and gasping.


    ¡®What the actual fuck¡¯ I feel almost as much shock as she must a this turn of events.


    ¡°Ok, calm down¡± I say, somewhat hoping that she will understand me. Who knows what language people around here speak.I try to make my voice as gentle as possible.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you. The goblins are dead.¡± I look to the side where the first one we killed still lies with an arrow in its head.


    She follows my look and seems to relax a little as she sees the body.


    I¡¯m going to let you go now, don¡¯t run¡± ¡®Please don¡¯t run.¡¯ I think. ¡°Its dangerous out there¡±


    Slowly, gently. I release her arms and lift myself off her. The moment I do she springs up and backs away from me. Holding my arms out at my side, palms open and facing her, I step back, glance behind to see where I am in relation to one of the logs I then slowly sit down on.


    Watching me cautiously, she sits herself down on the log on the opposite side of the fire.


    ¡°There, that¡¯s better.¡± I say, still being careful to keep my voice soft and gentle. She looks at me curiously and then seems to become aware of her nakedness and huddles up in an attempt to cover herself with her arms.


    ¡®Del you are one daft fucker¡¯ I think to myself. I shrug off my jerkin, quickly remove my shirt and toss it over to her. She looks at it, then at me, before quickly putting it on as I redress myself.Standing she smooths it down and it settles in place a bit like a little smock dress on her short frame. I pull a bit of the rope from my pack and cut of a couple of feet and toss that over.¡°For a belt if you want one¡± I say, wondering if she has the slightest clue what I am saying.


    Its not perfect but at least she has something to cover her modesty.


    She looks at me with her big dark eyes.


    ¡°Thank you¡± she says in a quiet voice. I almost jump, startled that she has understood me and I her. As I look on, tears are gently tracking lines through the dirt on her face.¡°I thought I was dead.¡± She says. ¡°They catch and eat young elves all too regularly¡±


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡®Elf?¡¯ I think with a start. And quickly


    ¡®Identify¡¯


    Elven youth


    Level: 1


    Naturally arcane


    Strengths: Wisdom, Dexterity


    Weaknesses: Unknown


    Attacks: Unknown


    Skills: Growth


    Lore: Shy and retiring, elves are often found in deep woods where they live in harmony with nature. Naturally skilled in arcane magics. They are seldom aggressive unless threatened.


    ¡°I¡¯m Del¡± I say to her, ¡°And I¡¯m glad I got here before they ate you.¡± With a smile.


    ¡°Elara¡± she replies in her quiet voice. ¡°As am I¡±


    ¡°Well Elara, I¡¯m a bit messy from the fight.¡± I look at my bloody arm and hands. ¡°So I¡¯m going to wash up and then I think we might use the fire to cook up something more suitable for lunch.¡± She smiles in agreement and we head towards the stream. ¡°Do you know if this was all of them?¡± I ask her.


    She thinks for a minute. ¡°There was one other, he was the one who used the trap that caught me.¡± She indicates a direction upstream. ¡°A days walk North I think it was.¡±


    ¡°In that case, I think he was the one who tried to kill me up that way. We don¡¯t need to worry about him then.¡± At the stream I shrugged off my jerkin and began to sluice off the blood and dirt, I carefully inspected my injured arm, pleased to see it was pretty much fully healed.


    ¡®I like these herby medicines¡¯ I think with a smile. Now clean I look up and see Elara fully immersed in the water, ducking her head and scrubbing her hair with vigour. Smiling I leave her to it and return to stoke up the fire and prepare some pork for cooking.


    A quick search of the wood edge finds some suitable branches to set up a basic frame and skewer to hold a slab of meat to roast over the flames. Glancing to the river I see her emerging from the river and avert my eyes from her nakedness. She lies down on the rock bank to dry in the sun and I go back to preparing lunch.


    Misty comes over and climbs on my lap for strokes and fuss.¡°So girl, this is a bit of a pickle we have found. What do you think?¡± She stretches up and boop my nose with hers. ¡°Yup that¡¯s about what I thought too¡± I chuckle.¡®So Del, what does one do with a kidnapped elf girl.¡¯ I glance over. ¡®Doesn¡¯t look like a girl to me though.¡¯ Don¡¯t misunderstand me, I¡¯m not a letch or a perve, but the curves I had been unable not to see were not immature. Then again, I had no idea on elven physiology, or, really, anything at all about them. I also didn¡¯t really know anything about her as a person, apart from the little glimpse my identify had given me. All I could do was hope to find out more as we talked over food.


    While the meat seared and its aromas spread around me I pulled out some sage and parsley I had gathered and mushed them together into a basting mix with the dripping pork fat. Gathering some small twigs I bashed the ends to make a crude brush and basted the roasting meat.Just as it was almost ready, light footsteps approached and Elara, now dressed once more took her seat opposite.


    ¡°Smells good.¡± She said with a smile. With her now clean wet hair hanging down her back I could see her ears were gently tapered to delicate points at the top. Her eyes had a slight tilt to the corners a bit like oriental friends I had known.


    ¡°I have to admit,¡± I say to her. ¡°I don¡¯t know that much about elves.¡± I shrug. ¡°To be honest, you are the first I have ever met.¡±¡°Really?¡± she sounds surprised. ¡°I thought we were quite widespread in Gondowa, most towns and cities have plenty of elven kind within.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not actually from here.¡± I think for a moment. ¡°Its difficult to explain but I am definitely new to this land.¡±


    ¡°Wow, Ok well I am quite young for an elf, I turned 35 last year.¡± She replies. ¡°So I don¡¯t know much of this land myself. I left the woods of my hometree a year ago to make my way and find my own path. I want to be a nature mage. I know it¡¯s a big ambition but I think I can do it.¡± She bubbles up enthusiastically.


    It was my turn to be taken aback. ¡°35, I thought you were a teenager or something. I¡¯m sorry, forgive my confusion.¡±She laughed, her voice tinkling like wind on the leaves. ¡°If you don¡¯t know elves then no forgiveness is necessary¡± With a smile she continues as I carve up the meat and hand some to her.¡°Elves mature slowly, we reach physical maturity a bit like you humans, around 18 or so, but we are a long lived people, longer even than dwarves.¡±


    ¡®Dwarves, of course there are dwarves. Do I meet Snow White next?¡¯ I think wistfully.


    ¡°So at 35 years I am considered an elder youth approaching adulthood. But I will not be a fully adult member of elven society until I am at least 40.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I say through a mouthful of warm pork. ¡°So what brings you out here? I take it you are a long way from your usual area.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± she smiles, quickly wiping a small dribble of fatty juice threatening to grease her chin. Once I knew my path was to be with nature, and I had my first casting learnt. I decided to head to the more populated southern region and seek a master of the craft to teach me.¡±


    ¡°Isn''t it dangerous to travel alone?¡± I ask her.¡°Yes and no.¡± She gives a thoughtful look. ¡°Normally a goblin would not have been able to catch me so unaware but, I was stupid.¡± She sighs. ¡°I spotted a plant I didn¡¯t recognise and got too absorbed and failed to pay attention. Next thing I knew, I stepped into a rope trap and was hauled into the air upside-down. That little green arse was leaping up and down in glee, poking me and prodding me as if weighing up a prize steer for market. I hung there for what seemed ages then there were 4 of them, chattering around me in their foul tongue. Well, they cut me down and before I knew it they had stripped me and shoved me in that damn sack. That was 3 or 4 days ago now. It was hard to keep track.¡± She gives an involuntary shudder. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how lucky I was that you turned up when you did.¡±


    ¡°My pleasure Elara. You are to pretty to be someone''s dinner.¡± She blushes and dips her head to hide her eyes. ¡°I mean, look, I, Alright, I am not necessarily best with words, but you know what I mean.¡± I stammer through a nervous half-laugh.She looks at me. ¡°Yes Del, you mean you think I am pretty.¡± She says then bursts into a musical laugh and pokes out her tongue at me.


    Misty, stands up, looks at me haughtily and taking a bit of meat, saunters over to jump into Elara¡¯s lap.


    ¡°Traitor.¡± I say looking at her chewing her snack, as she receives her desired attention.


    ¡°So what about you, where are you from? I know as little about you as you do about me.¡± She looks at me, her eyes questioning and questing in their gaze.


    ¡°You said you were not from around here.¡±


    I think long and hard, how much do I tell her, how much CAN I  tell her and not sound totally crazy.


    ¡®Well Del, if you tell her a lie, it better be a damned good one, or tell her as much of the truth you need without getting labelled a lunatic¡¯


    I take a breath.


    And the world freezes.

 Chapter 10 – Elves are good with bows

    One thing about my life over the past few days¡ªit was never boring. So, what the hell is going on now?


    I get up and look closely at Elara. She¡¯s paused mid-stroke of Misty, who is also looking at me quizzically. Misty slips out from under Elara¡¯s hand and looks at her, then at me, then back at her.


    ¡°No idea, girl,¡± I say to the cat.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± a small cough behind me nearly makes me jump out of my damn skin. I whirl around, my sword already half out of its sheath, to see, still dressed immaculately in her business suit¡ªMenolly.


    ¡°What the goddamn hell are you doing here, and what is this?¡± I wave my hand wildly about at the still world around me, forgetting I still have a sword in my grasp. She leans back to avoid the blade and frowns at it.


    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± I re-sheathe the blade. ¡°Well, you made me jump.¡±


    ¡°May I sit?¡± she asks, and a chair just¡­appears. A basic wooden kitchen chair. Like, what? I shake my head.


    ¡®Okay, Del, there¡¯s no point in trying to make sense of this woman.¡¯ I sigh. ¡°Sure, why not,¡± and I sit on my log seat, looking at her. ¡°So, what the heck is this all about, lady?¡±


    After a moment of observing me, the camp, the dead bodies now with a small collection of motionless flies, and finally Elara, she speaks.


    ¡°This is the start of your first major cuvat, according to the Overmind. And it was felt it was better to give you the details in person rather than as a message on your info screen.¡± Her voice is the same gentle but authoritative tone as before. ¡°So, I was sent.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± I reply. ¡°But why the dramatics?¡± I wave my hand once again at the frozen world around us.


    ¡°You have been stepped outside time before, so it¡¯s a known situation for you. You¡¯ve interacted with me before, so the same logic applies. This was the most efficient process and causes the least disruption.¡±


    ¡°Alright, so spill. What''s this cuvat thing, and why dump it on me right now?¡±


    She leans towards me slightly.


    ¡°As you are aware, your primary task, or cuvat, is to survive. The Overmind is continuously assessing your adaptability as a representative of your species as a whole.¡±


    I nod. ¡°Yeah, BB is watching me,¡± I say sardonically.


    A momentary frown crosses her face. ¡°Indeed. Well, this new cuvat involves, to a certain extent, Elara.¡± I turn to look at the young elf, then back to Menolly.


    ¡°Terras is a continuously evolving world with many dynamics affecting it¡ªespecially true in Gondowa. Exactly as it will be when it progresses through the eons to the rise and dominance of your own civilization, tensions exist now, particularly between the different species that call this period home.¡±


    ¡°How many different species are there at this time?¡± I ask her.


    ¡°The four main sapient races who have a developed societal structure are humans, elves, dwarves, and gnomes. There are other small groups and species of limited sentience that are mostly disorganized; goblins are one such.¡± She pauses thoughtfully before continuing. ¡°This is background information but something you should be aware of if you don¡¯t want to stand out too much. The main point of this intervention is to stop what you were about to do.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, Menolly? I wasn¡¯t about to do anything.¡± I feel a touch of anger inside and quickly quell it.


    ¡°You cannot tell Elara, or anyone, about where you¡¯re from or why you¡¯re here. That is of paramount importance. If you do, it will have a major impact on your primary cuvat and likely cost you your life.¡±


    I look at her, slightly stunned. ¡°So, what the hell am I supposed to tell them? It¡¯s going to be pretty damned obvious I¡¯m not from around here.¡±


    ¡°May I?¡± she asks, then places her hand on my head. I feel a rush of information, too fast to properly examine.


    ¡°This is the Isle of Starnd. The place doesn¡¯t exist, so you won¡¯t meet anyone else from there. But anyone you tell of it will have either heard of it or accept what you say as real.¡± She smiles. ¡°This way, you have a background that cannot be checked or challenged but will also explain your lack of knowledge about the world at large.¡±


    I do a quick mental review. It could work¡ªbetter than what I had before, which was nothing.


    Menolly looks over at Elara.


    ¡°Your cuvat is to help her. How you do that is up to you, but she is in more danger than even she realizes, and her story has yet to unfold. It is potentially something that could affect the entire dynamic of life in Gondowa or simply lead to a life of quiet reflection and magical experimentation.¡±


    I look at Elara, then back to Menolly.


    ¡°And that¡¯s it? Nothing more, no hints or clues as to what the actual fuck I¡¯m supposed to do to help her?¡±


    Menolly stands, and as she smiles, the chair vanishes beneath her.


    ¡°Good luck, Del. You¡¯ll be fine.¡± And without another word, she vanishes, and the world spins back into motion.


    Elara looks puzzled for a moment, then Misty jumps back into her lap, resuming acceptance of the elf¡¯s attention.


    ¡°I¡¯m a bit new here myself,¡± I answer her question, picking up where things left off before Menolly¡¯s interruption ¡®This is damned weird, Del¡ªno time has passed for her, yet I just had a whole conversation with that damn cybo-whatever she is.¡¯


    ¡°Like you, I¡¯m searching for my proper path, and this is my first time in Gondowa.¡± I shrug.


    ¡°I¡¯m from a small island in the Western Sea. There aren¡¯t many of us there, no elves or dwarves or anything else. Just a half-dozen human families living the quiet life. I wasn¡¯t happy and felt I needed more, so here I am. I¡¯ve only been on the mainland a few days and already had a few things try to kill me.¡±


    I chuckle. ¡°Before I came here, the most dangerous thing I had to tackle was an angry bee when I tried to steal its honey.¡±


    She laughs at that and glances at the dead goblin by the camp. ¡°I¡¯m glad your pest control skills have improved.¡±


    ¡°So, what now, Elara?¡± I ask. ¡°What are your plans? I don¡¯t have anything much in mind for myself, so if you want company, I¡¯m more than happy to join up with you and see where the road takes us.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± She thinks. ¡°I need to get to a city eventually if I¡¯m going to find a master mage. But I¡¯m not exactly sure where, as I¡¯m like you.¡± She starts to wipe the pork grease from her fingers, Misty helping to lick up the juice where she can. ¡°Maybe I haven¡¯t been quite so isolated from the realities of the land, but it¡¯s my first time escaping the protection of the Hometree.¡±


    ¡°Escaping?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Parents and other elders can be so restricting¡ªdon¡¯t do this, don¡¯t do that.¡± She pouts. ¡°Maybe ¡®escape¡¯ is a bit strong, but it was certainly a relief to get out from under their constant gaze.¡±


    ¡°Fair comment,¡± I say. ¡°I never had children, but I saw friends with theirs.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s never too late,¡± she responds, and I laugh somewhat ironically.


    ¡°I passed 50 a way back, and nobody would be fool enough to want to continue my line.¡±


    ¡°Fifty is not old,¡± she says, ¡°even for you short-lived humans.¡± There¡¯s a mix of humor and challenge in her voice.


    ¡®Ahh, the joys of youth,¡¯ I ruefully smile.


    Getting more practical, I start to clear up the site and put out the fire.


    ¡°It won¡¯t be safe to stay here too long,¡± I say. ¡°Do you have any idea what they did with your gear after they caught you?¡±


    ¡°I wish,¡± she answers. ¡°They were on the move pretty much continuously, and I couldn¡¯t see anything. Sometimes I could hear the river, but not always.¡± She gives a little shrug. ¡°I have to assume my stuff is gone.¡±


    ¡°Can you use a sword? A knife, a bow?¡± I ask. ¡°You said you were a mage; what combat spells do you know? I just want to be ready if, and when, we meet anything that¡¯s out there.¡±


    She ponders. ¡°I can use a bow¡ªelves tend to be good with bows. And a knife. As for spells, I can make a plant grow, a bit. But that¡¯s about all.¡± She looks down and, in a quiet voice, adds, ¡°I guess I¡¯m pretty useless, all things considered.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± I say, using a finger to gently lift her chin. ¡°Can you teach me to use a bow? I know the basics, but hitting anything has been far more luck than skill. And I¡¯d love to see you make something grow¡ªthat could be really useful.¡± I wonder if we find any unripe edible plants, could she speed up that process and get us useful food?


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.¡°Shall we head out, then?¡± I ask. ¡°Let¡¯s keep our eyes out for a good spot to maybe practice with the bow.¡± I send Misty off to continue scouting ahead as we head downstream, staying alert and quiet. Elara is now equipped with the bow and one of the spare knives, while I have a knife and two swords.


    ¡®All you need, Del, is a patch and a parrot, and you could be a pirate.¡¯ I chuckle inwardly. ¡®Ooo Arr lad, pieces of fekkin¡¯ eight.¡¯


    Fortunately, we only see the occasional rabbit-like thing. ¡®Are rabbits supposed to have pointy teeth and eat mice?¡¯ and nothing really big enough to cause us any trepidation.


    After a couple of hours, we find Misty doing her due diligence with her personal grooming while sunning on the riverbank. Opposite is a tall, clear mud bank rising up from a small sand spit. Almost perfect for practising archery and damn close to what I¡¯d asked Misty to look out for.


    ¡®Damn cat understands more than I give her credit for,¡¯ I think as I go to give her a scratch behind her ear.


    ¡°Good girl, Misty, you did good.¡± She looks up at me as loud purrs start to rise from her. She blinks at me slowly and then goes back to her grooming. I grab a stick and, kicking off my boots, wade across the river to draw a round target in the mud, along with a small misshaped blob that¡¯ll stand in for a goblin.


    Once I¡¯m back with Elara, I ask for the bow.


    ¡°Now then, let me show you just how bad I am.¡±


    ¡°You hit the goblins,¡± she says, slightly puzzled.


    ¡°I assure you, that was more a mix of fear, and a huge amount of luck.¡±


    She watches as I fire off half a dozen arrows, missing five and barely hitting the circle target I was aiming for once.


    ¡°I agree,¡± she says as the last one lands. With a small laugh, she adds, ¡°I thank you for having the luck to save my life.¡±


    ¡°Ah now, Elara,¡± I answer. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just luck; I also had my secret ginger weapon.¡± Misty gives us both a look that speaks volumes. I retrieve the arrows, and we continue, this time with Elara offering snippets of advice.


    ¡°Relax your shoulders, stop fighting the bow.¡±


    ¡°There, see how it stops wavering so much.¡±


    ¡°Control your breathing¡ªslow breaths lower your heart rate and stop the bow trembling at full pull.¡±


    And as the afternoon wears on, I do improve. I begin to hit the round target more than I miss, and then the blob goblin starts to take abuse as she teaches me to be more specific in my aim. As the light starts to fade, I hear my second¡­


    [Archery Skill has Increased slightly]


    We decide it¡¯s time to stop and find somewhere for our evening camp. I head for the last time across the stream to collect my spent arrows, sending Misty off to search for a safe campsite¡ªmaybe a cave or a big tree we could climb.


    All in all, it¡¯s been a good session, and I feel I¡¯ve accomplished a lot. With only the loss of two arrows, it¡¯s more than pleasing. Misty soon returns and leads us to a clump of almost impenetrable thorn brush, with a narrow, hard-to-spot path leading to an open centre.


    ¡°We won¡¯t risk a fire, but it should be warm and safe enough without,¡± I say.


    Elara agrees, then goes to the narrow entrance and touches a stem on either side. In my gut, I feel something I can¡¯t quite describe¡ªalmost a warmth and a tingle. I look at where she¡¯s standing, eyes closed in concentration, and see the stems and branches start to emit a soft green glow. They begin to move and grow, closing off the entryway as if it had never existed.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I breathe softly.


    Despite my interactions with the otherworldly Menolly and all the strange things I¡¯ve experienced over the past few days, this is magical¡ªreal magic, I have no doubt.


    Elara opens her eyes and looks up at me shyly. ¡°It''s just a simple spell, but it should help us stay safe overnight.¡±


    ¡°That was incredible,¡± I say in a hoarse whisper.


    She gives a little tinkling laugh. ¡°Anyone would think you had never seen a casting before.¡±


    I shake my head, still in wonder. ¡°I haven¡¯t,¡± I say. ¡°Where I¡¯m from, we have a few tricksters and illusionists, but no real magic. That was my first time seeing and experiencing it.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± she sounds surprised. ¡°Well, trust me, that was very minor. As we get to more populated places, you¡¯ll see far stronger magics and wizards than anything I can do.¡±


    We make small talk as we set up camp. She tells me tales of her childhood, and I listen in rapt attention to her stories of growing up high in the crown of the hometree. It appears the hometree is a massive tree with multiple trunks, all interconnected with walkways and paths. Homes are grown into the trunks and from the bigger branches. It sounds like an amazing place to see. Few outside the elves get to go there, as it¡¯s heavily protected with both guards and magical defenses. The elves who continue to live in the old way tend to be very reclusive and insular, unlike the elves who have left that life to live in towns and cities across Gondowa.


    I can see Elara is getting sleepy, so I suggest it¡¯s time for bed. With a yawn, she agrees and settles down. Soon, gentle, soft snores rise from her.


    I lay back and use my pack for a pillow. A thought strikes me, and I call up my log.


    Sure enough, there it is, with a blinking blue icon beside it:


    [Congratulations, you have enough experience to level up. Would you like to level up now?]


    With everything that had happened, I¡¯d completely forgotten.


    ¡®Yes.¡¯


    My stat sheet opens up, and a notice tells me I have 2 points to assign to my stats. Thinking over recent events, I assign points to Strength and Dexterity.


    Another notice tells me that Archery is now level 3, and I¡¯ve gained a special attack, Archery Mastery.


    Not bad, I think; all that practice has paid off.


    I also see Misty has leveled up. Good for her. It seems she placed her points into Intelligence. Maybe that¡¯s why we¡¯ve started to understand each other better, I think with a smile.


    ¡®Though I¡¯m sure she¡¯d say the problem of understanding was all me, as cats understand everything.¡¯ I smile, give her a head scratch, and then look properly at our stat sheets.


    Name: Del Axholm


    Level: 2


    Path: Archer


    Health: 24


    Strength: 16


    Dexterity: 17


    Stamina: 16


    Intelligence: 11


    Wisdom: 12


    Mana: 11


    Spirit: 12


    Agility: 19


    Presence: 10


    Animal Companion: Misty; feline


    Skills:


    Archery lvl 3 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows


    Woodcraft lvl 2 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.


    Tracking lvl 1 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.


    Traps lvl 1 ¨C Can make basic snares and pit traps.


    Sneak lvl 2 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.


    Herbalism lvl 2 ¨C Can identify and gather basic herbs.


    Skinning lvl 1 ¨C Can manage to crudely strip the skin from a carcass.


    Attacks:


    Bow lvl 3 ¨C Simple Shot.


    Sword lvl 1 ¨C Cut, thrust.


    Dagger lvl 1 ¨C Stab, Slash.


    Special Attacks:


    Bow:


    Sneak attack lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage


    Master Archer lvl 1¨C Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.


    Dagger:


    Backstab lvl 1 ¨C Double damage.


    Name: Misty


    Level: 2


    Path: Feline Companion


    Health: 30


    Strength: 8


    Dexterity: 18


    Stamina: 13


    Intelligence: 6


    Wisdom: 6


    Mana: 6


    Spirit: 6


    Agility: 20


    Presence: 12


    Skills:


    Charm lvl 2 ¨C Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.


    Attacks:


    Claw lvl 2 ¨C Attack with front claws.


    Rake lvl 1¨C Double rear leg attack.


    Bite lvl 1 ¨C Its teeth all the way.


    Special Attacks:


    Pounce lvl 2 ¨C Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause target to stumble.


    Sneak Pounce lvl 1 ¨C As above; Triple damage.

 Chapter 11 – A small chunk of ear.

    It was getting late into the next morning. We continued making our way downstream, roughly following the river¡¯s course while also foraging a little into the woods. Elara pointed out many edible plants, wild carrots, various berries, and we even managed to find some wild apple trees, though the fruit wasn¡¯t yet ripe. Our conversation was kept quiet and intermittent to avoid drawing undue attention.


    I told her tales from my youth, picking generic stories that could come from just about anywhere¡ªmaking a rope swing over the river and falling in when the branch broke, hunting for bird eggs, and tales of Misty¡¯s fun and games. She told me of her life growing up among the branches, memories of waking to birdsong and running through the high branches in games of tag. She shared learning to use the bow from an early age, though she claimed to never be that good at it, and most notably, she told me about discovering her knack with magic and learning to control the flow of mana within her.


    The subject of mana fascinated me, and I couldn¡¯t help wondering, fantasising even, about maybe being able to learn it myself. I know I didn¡¯t choose the path of a mage because I felt an archer more practical, but¡­


    ¡®Who knows what may or may not be possible, Del,¡¯ I contemplate as she talks about it with me.


    Misty appears out of the brush ahead, tail swishing, and I feel her mind touch mine. Not words, but almost¡ªa vivid sense that there were people ahead, not green, not elf, other. I touch Elara¡¯s arm and motion her to quiet, then crouch down. She lowers herself beside me, and we move as carefully as we can, following Misty as she leads us forward.


    After a hundred metres or so, we begin to hear voices talking quietly. The tone is gruff but too low to make out words over the gentle rustle of leaves and burbling river.


    ¡®Watch, hide, be ready,¡¯ I send the thought to Misty, and she quickly slips off. I turn my head to Elara and whisper in her ear.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go forward; you hide and be ready with the bow if things go sideways.¡±


    She nods agreement, and with that, I stand up and head towards the voices ahead.


    I don¡¯t try to muffle my approach, but I¡¯m not clumsily noisy either¡ªthe occasional twig breaking underfoot or pebbles crunching enough that my presence wouldn¡¯t cause surprise. As I see two men come into view, I ensure my empty hands are in clear sight and stop a half dozen metres from the two men, who appear to be quietly but angrily arguing over a body lying at their feet.


    ¡°Hey there,¡± I say in what I hope is a friendly voice, though my warning sirens are already blazing at the sight of the corpse.


    ¡®Stay sharp, Del. Need to find out what¡¯s happened and not jump to conclusions.¡¯


    The men spin to face me, and it¡¯s obvious they¡¯d been so distracted by their argument that they hadn¡¯t noticed my approach at all.


    The men are tall¡ªone maybe six foot, the other more. Both look weather-worn, with ripped clothing in places and odd bits of dented armour here and there. From the look of it, both must have seen better days. Then again, I probably look worse. The bigger guy has chipped swords at his belt, and the other a bandolier of small knives strapped across his chest. With a thought, I quickly try identify on them.


    ¡®Identify¡¯


    Human Rogue


    Level: 2


    Scout and ambush hunter


    Strengths: Stealth


    Weaknesses: Unknown


    Attacks: Knife


    Skill: Unknown


    Lore: Rogues use stealth to sneak up on and gain an advantage in attacking an enemy. They are also experts at trap detection along with breaking and entering.


    Human Brigand


    Level: 2


    Brawler, fighter


    Strengths: Strength, stamina


    Weaknesses: Unknown


    Attacks: Scimitar, knife


    Skill: Unknown


    Lore: Brigands tend to gather in small to medium groups, living by ambushing and robbing unwary travellers.


    It¡¯s pretty obvious they don¡¯t share my friendly nature when they pull weapons and begin to charge at me¡ªwell, one does. The rogue stumbles and falls forward clumsily, a vine he hadn¡¯t noticed snaking around his boot.


    ¡®Good girl,¡¯ Elara has been hard at work.


    I pull my sword and knife to meet the charge and step to the side at the last minute, parrying his strike with my knife while I try to strike back with my own blade. With a ring of metal, it¡¯s deflected by the bracer on his arm.


    I hear the distinctive zing of an arrow passing close by, followed by a grunt as it finds its mark. It seems Elara has her sights firmly on the rogue she downed, as more arrows follow the first.


    The brigand and I are rapidly exchanging blows and counters, neither scoring much but both trying hard. He draws a wicked-looking curved knife with his off hand and comes towards me, weapons and arms outstretched and waving menacingly.


    I step back and then quickly spin to the side to avoid his sudden thrust. As I do, his knife catches my flank and leaves a gash. It¡¯s not deep, but first true blood to him.


    I can feel the trickle of hot blood start to run down, and the coppery smell of it permeates the air around me. I know I¡¯m outclassed and only avoiding something truly dangerous so far thanks to luck and circumstance.


    At that point, I pass under the tree I¡¯d been leading him toward. He yells and stumbles as a ball of furious ginger fur lands heavily on his neck, clawing and biting for all she¡¯s worth. I take advantage of his distraction to thrust my own blade into him. It¡¯s deflected by some obstruction I hadn¡¯t spotted under his shirt, but it still goes deep. He yells, and with a violent shake, dislodges Misty, who lands some feet away.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.Regaining his footing, the man starts to swing his sword down on me, and I desperately try to get my knife up to deflect it. With a metallic ring, my knife is forced from my hand¡ªI deflect the blow, but I¡¯m now down to just my sword.


    Misty leaps again. She doesn¡¯t land but instead takes a large chunk of his ear with her as she vaults across his shoulder. The man screeches in pain, swinging at her wildly and hitting nothing but air. I slash toward him once more, cutting a line down his arm as, with a thunk, an arrow sprouts from his throat.


    A look of surprise crosses his face as the life flickers and dies in his eyes, and he slumps unceremoniously to the floor.


    [You have killed Human Brigand, experience gained]


    [You have killed Human Rogue, experience gained]


    I drop to the floor and sit, breathing hard, recovering from the fight. It had been hard. I need to get better. Misty comes to me and nuzzles my hand.


    ¡°Good girl,¡± I praise her. She gives a couple of heaving coughs, and with a splat, a chunk of ear lands on the ground at her feet. She gives it a sniff, then bats it away with a paw before starting her grooming routine. There¡¯s a rustle of leaves as Elara pushes through some underbrush and comes up beside me.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asks me.


    I regard my assorted cuts, none too dangerous, but they damn well sting like a bitch.


    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± I answer, ¡°just need to tend to these, and I¡¯ll be right as rain again.¡±


    ¡°Do you know who they were or what they were after?¡± she asks.


    I sigh. ¡°I¡¯d guess a couple of cut-throats looking to kill and rob anyone they came across.¡± I point towards the body of the rogue, now sprouting a quiver of arrows.


    ¡°I think they were maybe having a bit of a disagreement over their last victim.¡± I shrug. ¡°Let¡¯s search them all. Maybe something will turn up to give us more clues.¡±


    ¡®If not, Del,¡¯ I muse, ¡®we just chalk it up to more shit this world¡¯s chucking my way. Damn place seems to exist on the principle of kill or be killed.¡¯ I mentally raise a finger to an unseen entity. ¡®I¡¯m still here, though, BB. I¡¯m still here.¡¯


    With a small groan, I reach into my pack. I still have that pot of feldspar paste I found on the goblin, so I use it to treat my injuries. There¡¯s enough left for a couple more small wounds. I haul myself to my feet and look at Elara.


    ¡°Shall we?¡± I ask, then step over to the nearest body.


    We strip off his cobbled-together armour¡ªa vambrace on his left arm and a pauldron on his right shoulder make up the useful parts. Under his shirt, he wears a tattered leather under-armour that had deflected my earlier thrust. It isn¡¯t worth keeping. On his hand is a large, gaudy ring, and in his pouch, he has some coins and a couple of other less ostentatious bits of jewellery. We gather these, along with his knife and sword, and I also retrieve the knife I¡¯d dropped in the fight.


    Leaving him to the ants and scavengers, we move over to the rogue and whoever their victim was. The rogue is dressed in a light outfit of padded cloth. The bandolier of what I now see are throwing knives is of good quality¡ªthe knives are sharp and well-cared-for. His pack holds cleaning cloths, oil, and a whetstone. He also has a nasty-looking stiletto in a wrist holster and a pouch of more coins to add to our haul.


    From the look of the dead man on the ground, the stiletto had been his undoing, with a single deep puncture wound through his back right where his heart would be. This man is better dressed, more like a farmer or other labourer. I have no idea if he¡¯s a ways from home or if this means we¡¯re near civilisation ourselves.


    As I move to help Elara retrieve the last of her arrows, I smile at her. ¡°Now, this is why you have the bow.¡±


    She looks up at me, and I see a small tear glisten in the corner of her eye. ¡°I¡¯ve never killed anyone before,¡± she says in a quiet voice. ¡°But I had to, or you would be dead.¡± Her voice breaks on this last word, and with a sob, she throws herself into my arms, her head buried in my shoulder, body shaking with muffled sobs. I hold her gently as her arms grip me. I remember my own reaction to my first kill and compare it to how I feel about these men.


    ¡®Am I becoming inured to this fight-for-survival crap?¡¯ I wonder.


    I stroke Elara¡¯s back gently. ¡°It¡¯s alright, lass,¡± I murmur quietly. ¡°You¡¯ll be okay.¡± At our feet, I feel Misty rubbing against our legs, lending her own brand of emotional support.


    With a great heave of breath and a gulp of a final sob, Elara pulls away a little and looks at me through reddened, wet eyes.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispers as she wipes her eyes and face on her sleeve. ¡°Can we just finish here and get out of this place, please?¡±


    It¡¯s almost a beg¡ªas if I¡¯d want to stay around the bodies any longer than necessary.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I answer gently. ¡°You go sit over there and have a cuddle with Misty while I finish up, then we¡¯ll be on our way.¡±


    I search the final body, that of the cutthroat¡¯s victim. I find a small, distinctive pendant, which I carefully remove and put away. Maybe someone will recognise it, and I can let them know what happened. There¡¯s nothing else to suggest why he¡¯d been targeted. A quick look in the pack nearby reveals a few meagre bits of food¡ªnothing but basic fare, but the bread will be useful. With that, I stand back up, motion to Elara to join me, and we head back on our way downstream, Misty leading the way as usual. As the afternoon wears on, Elara tries to apologise for her reaction. I tell her I was worse, she smiles, and we make light conversation¡ªinterspersed with long periods of reflective but companionable silence. From ahead, I feel Misty¡¯s touch on my mind.


    ¡®Cave¡¯ is the feeling I get, and we let her guide us a little way from the river to a crumbling hill with a small hollow we can shelter in. Neither of us talks much as I set up camp and prepare food. I look at our supplies¡ªmaybe enough pork for two more days with bread tonight. Tomorrow, if we don¡¯t find a farm or village, we¡¯ll need to hunt or fish for more. As we eat, conversation is gentle, studiously avoiding the earlier fight. I can see in her eyes that she¡¯s still haunted by the events. Not long after she finishes, she says she¡¯s going to sleep and curls up at the back of the hollow. When I check on her a little while later, her soft breathing tells of sleep, yet tears roll slowly down her cheeks from beneath her closed eyelids.

 Chapter 12 - Stew and beer

    The next morning, I wake early, greeted by birdsong, a softly snoring cat, and a missing elf. Her gear is mostly there, so I¡¯m not worried she¡¯s run off, though I do feel a bit of concern that she hasn¡¯t found any trouble.


    ¡®If she¡¯s left, she¡¯s her own person, as long as she¡¯s safe. All is good,¡¯ I say to myself. With that, I stoke up the coals smouldering from last night and add a few small branches to start cooking a few bits for breakfast. Looking at the sky, I see grey clouds starting to gather, the air smells like rain, and the breeze seems a touch stronger. With the food sizzling on the cooking rock I found the previous night, I start to assess the resources I have on hand. It¡¯s not much.


    ¡®I really hope I can find somewhere to get properly sorted for supplies soon.¡¯ I have to admit, I¡¯m slightly worried about that.


    Food for maybe another day, two if Elara really has left. I glance around the hollow¡ªno bow, I sigh, but there¡¯s a quiver of arrows. A couple of rough-and-ready swords, two knives, and that set of throwing knives. I look in the pouch tied to my belt. Elara had explained the currency, so I know I have 59 copper and 6 tin pieces, plus a small collection of rings and that one large one taken from the bandit. Elara felt it had magical properties but couldn¡¯t say what and advised against putting it on until we knew more about it. Apparently, cursed items are a thing, and if you use one, the curse transfers to you and is a nightmare to remove. I don¡¯t need to be warned twice about that, so the ring is wrapped carefully in cloth until we can figure it out properly.


    ¡®We? Now, Del, there you go making assumptions,¡¯ I think, feeling a tad grumpy. ¡®Yesterday could well have been too much for her, and she¡¯s probably well on her way back to her home.¡¯ I kick a small rock and flip the meat.


    The small clatter of the rock wakes Misty, and she looks up at me curiously, glances at the otherwise empty space, and stretches. I feel her thoughts, sending reassurance my way. She knows we¡¯ll be alright.


    ¡®Ah, for the wisdom of a cat,¡¯ I think with a chuckle. Grabbing the waterskin, I drain the last of it and head a couple of hundred yards to the river. At the bank, I see a small pile of fish, the bow, and a gathering of Elara¡¯s clothes and other bits. Looking out into the water, I see her floating gently. She sees me, bobs up, gives me a little wave and a smile, then starts walking up and out to the bank.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t sleep,¡± she says, apparently unconcerned at her nakedness as she comes up to where I stand, by her gear. I crouch down at the water and start to refill the skin, doing my best to avert my eyes¡ªbut damn, I¡¯m only a man, and there¡¯s only so much I can do.


    ¡°No problem,¡± I say, maybe a touch gruffly. ¡°We all have times like that.¡±


    ¡°I caught us some fish for breakfast,¡± she says, with light-hearted happiness in her voice. ¡°They¡¯re slow swimmers, so I was able to shoot them quite easily.¡± I look up at her as she buttons up the shirt of mine she¡¯s been using for a smock-dress. With her still wet, it clings to her and is almost transparent.


    ¡®Damn it, Del, if she doesn¡¯t care, there¡¯s no reason for you to,¡¯ I think with a mental shrug. Who am I to second-guess what is and isn¡¯t socially acceptable? Not just in a completely different time and culture but also with a totally different race. I¡¯d always been irked in my old life by those who judged history by modern-day standards and morals. Times change, and societies evolve. I pick up the pile of fish as she gathers her bow and puts on her foot wrappings.


    ¡°We need to find somewhere to get you proper boots,¡± I say to her, and indicating the fish. ¡°This will be a good change in diet for us, and Misty will adore you. But we¡¯ve got bush bacon for breakfast.¡±


    As we wander back to the camp, the smell of cooking pork drifts towards us. My belly rumbles.


    ¡®Yup, definitely breakfast time,¡¯ I smile to myself.


    The slabs of pig are nicely crisped on the edge, juicy and succulent. The few herbs we¡¯ve found add some needed depth, but I have to be honest¡ªI¡¯m starting to crave some carbs. The bread from the bandit¡¯s pack was mouldy, but with no better option, I trim off the green and toast the rest over the coals. I see Misty has a fish she¡¯s attacking with great abandon. No complaints from that direction, then. Elara and I tuck into pig and toast, discussing the day¡¯s plans around mouthfuls.


    It¡¯s in the afternoon that I smell woodsmoke drifting up the valley towards us. Misty¡¯s ahead as usual but hasn¡¯t reported back, so Elara quickly climbs a tree to see if she can spot anything.


    ¡°About a mile,¡± she says as she gets back to the ground. ¡°I can see a chimney near the river, but too many trees are blocking the view to see anything more from here.¡± She looks almost apologetic at the limited details. ¡°I think whatever is there sits at the edge of the wood. I can¡¯t see many trees beyond it.¡±


    I smile. ¡°We need to be careful, but maybe we¡¯ve found the settlement we¡¯ve been hoping for.¡±


    We continue following the riverbank, a mix of hope and anticipation balanced by concern for the unknown potential danger ahead. Elara walks very close to me, and at times, I have to be careful not to step on her foot. When Misty appears up ahead, we wait for her to arrive.


    I reach for her mind, asking, ¡®What have you found?¡¯ I get back a vision, a feeling of a small building standing at the edge of the wood. ¡®Two mans and a barker.¡¯


    ¡°Looks like at least two people up ahead and probably a dog,¡± I say to Elara. ¡°It seems Misty couldn¡¯t get too close due to the animal, so we have to assume there may be more in the building.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.¡°So, what do we do?¡± she asks, a hint of trepidation in her voice. I think for a minute or two, considering our options.


    ¡°We need to be careful, especially after that last fight we had. No telling if they¡¯re connected, but we can¡¯t rule it out.¡± I rub my chin¡ªthe stubble¡¯s getting out of hand; I hadn¡¯t worn a beard in over 20 years.


    ¡°You need to find your city to locate a mage trainer, and I need to find somewhere to resupply and figure out what to do next.¡± I shrug. ¡°This is the first sign of civilisation we¡¯ve found.¡±


    ¡°So, we go say hello?¡± she asks.


    ¡°Unless you have a better idea,¡± I answer.


    That settled, we check our weapons and carry on down the path.


    As we get closer, we can hear the thunk of an axe hitting wood and chatter, muffled by the trees and nearby river. The vista opens up ahead, giving us a view of a modest cottage sitting close to the woods¡¯ edge. Several nearby stumps and a pile of logs sit close to a shed leaning against the cottage wall. The air smells of chimney smoke mixed with the resinous scent of fresh-cut lumber. A well-built man stands near a woodpile, splitting a log into billets, while another man uses a tool to strip bark from larger logs. A large black-and-brown dog, perhaps a mastiff of some kind, lies by the cottage porch, a heavy chain attached to his collar.


    I feel some of the tension slip from my shoulders at this scene of rural life.


    The dog is the first to see us. His head jerks up, and a low growl rises from his throat. As the nearest man looks up in response, the dog leaps forward, barking ferociously, only to be brought up short as his chain yanks him to a snarling halt about fifteen feet away.


    The closest man walks towards us, his very obvious, very sharp axe in hand. The other guy has also stopped work and is eyeing us carefully.


    ¡°Newt doesn¡¯t seem to like you,¡± he says gruffly, indicating the snarling dog. ¡°So why don¡¯t you come on real slowly, hands where I can see them, and tell me who the hell you are and why you¡¯re sneaking out of the woods?¡±


    We do as he says, keeping our weapons sheathed, walking carefully forward and keeping clear of Newt¡¯s chain range. Misty is nowhere to be seen, not too surprising as she really doesn¡¯t like dogs.


    ¡°Hello,¡± I say. ¡°We weren¡¯t sneaking; we got lost in the woods a few days back and were following the river, hoping to find a village or something.¡±


    ¡°Is that right?¡± he answers, still on guard. ¡°Been hearing talk of bandits roaming these woods. How do I know you¡¯re not with them?¡±


    ¡°We ran into some robbers a couple of days back,¡± Elara answers. ¡°They attacked us. We were lucky there were only two of them.¡±


    We stop about six paces from him, all of us still wary, but the initial tension has eased a bit. Newt sits, his chain taut, a low growl quietly rumbling from him.


    ¡°What happened, where are they now?¡± the woodsman asks.


    ¡°Feeding the worms about a dozen miles upstream,¡± I answer. ¡°We were lucky, as my friend said. They seemed to be having an argument over a dead man when we came upon them. They attacked, we defended.¡±


    The second man shouts from the cottage. ¡°Newt, get back here.¡± With a small whine, the dog turns and trots back to his spot by the porch, earning a titbit for his diligence. ¡°Bring ¡¯em up, Bran,¡± he says. ¡°Easier to talk and sort the whats and whys where it¡¯s more comfortable.¡±


    Bran shrugs. ¡°You heard him¡ªleave the weapons sheathed where they belong, and let¡¯s go to the house. Be warned, though, Newt can reach anywhere in and around the place.¡± At the front of the cottage, a small area holds a roughly made table and chairs. We sit as indicated, and Bran goes inside to get a pitcher of water and wooden mugs. Once we¡¯re settled, I introduce us, and we find out they¡¯re brothers, Bran and Seth. The wood they chop supplies the local farm and village about five miles down the valley.


    They quiz us long and hard about the bandits. We answer as best as we can, and I guess, in the end, they accept us as unconnected to the local band of cutthroats, in part after learning that Elara is an elf. Elves aren¡¯t known to be part of the local groups causing trouble.


    ¡°That dead feller you said they killed¡ªthat¡¯s the real puzzle,¡± Seth says. ¡°I¡¯ve not heard of anyone else from around here going missing, and there aren¡¯t many other ways up into the high woods without going past here.¡±


    ¡°Anything make him stand out? Scars, tattoos, anything like that?¡± Bran asks.


    I shake my head. ¡°No, not really. He was pretty beat up and covered in dirt and blood from where he¡¯d been attacked.¡±


    ¡°He was in fairly rough clothing, if that helps,¡± Elara adds. ¡°I thought he might be a farmer.¡±


    I have another thought and reach for my pouch. ¡°He had a pendant on. I took it so I could see if anyone recognised it.¡±


    I pull out the pendant and look at it properly for the first time. It¡¯s small, maybe an inch across at most. On the front is a design that looks like three intersecting circles, and on the back are some marks that could be letters, though not in any language I know. The brothers take a long look at it, then finally pass it back to me.


    ¡°No, nothing I¡¯ve seen before. Maybe someone in the village might know,¡± Seth says.


    Bran stands. ¡°Food¡¯s ready. Will you join us?¡±


    Both Elara and I look up hopefully. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, that would be much appreciated.¡±


    A few minutes later, Bran comes out with a large tray. On it are bowls of what looks like a thick meat stew with assorted vegetables and steaming gravy. At the aroma, Newt, who¡¯s been snoring loudly, lifts his nose to sniff, then lies back down.


    ¡®Now this is more like it,¡¯ I think to myself as I tuck in.


    The food is filling and warming, and the beer is nutty and strong. The four of us chat long after dark. Drinking and enjoying good company is the best cure for the recent trauma. At last, with a woozy head and wobbly legs, we¡¯re led into the shed where some blankets have been put on the ground. With a contented sigh, I lay down close to Elara and fall asleep.

 Chapter 13 - Waking in a woodshed

    I wake to sunlight peeking through slats in the sides of the shed. The air smells of early morning dew. My neck aches, my head¡¯s woozy, and I¡¯m more sitting than lying down. My arms feel leaden, awkwardly positioned behind me. I go to roll onto my side to get more comfortable.


    ¡®What the hell¡­?¡¯ I struggle, and my mind snaps into focus. I¡¯m bound in some way, half-sitting up against one of the support struts in the shed. I look around wildly. ¡®Where the fuck is Elara?¡¯ I take a breath, attempting to keep tight control over my rising panic. ¡®Shit,¡¯ and several other, more colourful expletives fill my mind.


    I feel a tentative push against my spiralling thoughts. ¡®Misty?¡¯ I grab hold of that anchor in reality, hauling myself back under control. I wasn¡¯t going to help anyone, least of all myself, if I dissolved into a festering pool of anxiety and panic.


    ¡®Get a goddamn grip, Del, and let¡¯s figure a way out of this crap pile.¡¯ I look up towards where I feel Misty¡¯s thoughts emanating from and see her, tail swishing in agitation, perched on a roof beam.


    ¡®Hey, girl,¡¯ I think to her through our mind link, ¡®any idea what¡¯s going on?¡¯ I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m getting used to communicating with my damn cat beyond the usual meows when she¡¯s hungry or wants a fuss. It¡¯s surreal and bizarre, to say the least.


    I get back a feeling, almost an image¡ªhazy and indistinct¡ªof a large man shape with something, possibly a smaller man shape, slung over his shoulder, and the dog shape alongside them, heading off away from the cabin.


    ¡®Okay, so it looks like one of them has taken Elara somewhere, and the other one¡¯s still here?¡¯ I question and get a quiet mew of affirmation. I pull at my bonds¡ªrough rope of some kind. ¡°Any help would be welcome,¡± I mutter quietly. Behind me, I hear a soft thump as Misty jumps down, and then I feel the rough wetness of her tongue and teeth as she starts to bite and chew at the rope. My wrists are sore, and the headache I¡¯d been ignoring is pounding at the back of my skull like a demented drummer boy.


    ¡®The bastards must have drugged me,¡¯ I think angrily. I¡¯m normally a light sleeper and would certainly have woken when dragged across the floor and tied up.


    ¡®And what the hell do they want with Elara?¡¯ I can¡¯t imagine my prospects are wholesome either. They just haven¡¯t got around to dealing with me yet, but they¡¯re certainly not planning to shake my hand and wave me on my way¡ªnot after this. I keep a steady strain on the rope, helping Misty get through it as much as I¡¯m able, until, with a sudden jerk, the rope gives, and my arms are free.


    I get to my feet, go to the door, and listen carefully, shaking out the numbness in my arms and wrists as I do. All seems quiet, so I scan the room. The place where we¡¯d left our gear is noticeable in its complete absence of said items.


    ¡®Drugged, robbed, and probably about to be murdered,¡¯ I snarl inwardly. ¡®What the hell gives with the arseholes in this damn place?¡¯ I continue listening, hearing nothing but the wind and the occasional creak of the building. The silence doesn¡¯t comfort me; if anything, it heightens my tension, giving me nothing to go on in assessing my predicament more fully.


    ¡®So, Del, no weapon.¡¯ I spot a useful length of wood, about the size of a cricket bat. ¡®That¡¯ll help.¡¯


    ¡°Misty, is there another way out besides the door?¡± I ask her in a whisper. She pads over to a small gap at the base of the wall where some of the wood planking has rotted. I feel her letting me know that¡¯s where she got in.


    I gently try the door¡ªit gives slightly, then stops. From the feel of it, I¡¯d guess either a hasp lock or a bar secured it. There¡¯s no other door or window that I can see, so I look up at the roof to gauge if that might provide some option.


    Across many of the beams, planks are stacked, and some sort of pulley system seems to be used as a hoist to get things up to the higher level. A ladder rests against a crude mezzanine shelf area near the wall of the adjoining house. I carefully climb it, aware of the risk of making noise. The longer whoever stayed behind thinks I¡¯m out of it, the better. Once I reach the shelf area, I see it¡¯s pretty sturdy and used as extended storage for offcuts and bits of broken furniture. What grabs my attention is that, in the wall and hidden from sight down below, is a small crawl-through to the house attic.


    ¡®Misty, get up here,¡¯ I send, and in a moment, she¡¯s beside me. I point out the opening, and she slinks off to investigate. If there¡¯s a hatch through to the house, then we could be in business.


    As I wait, I gently massage my wrists and hands, easing the pins and needles that have developed as the circulation returns. The ropes had been bound tight, leaving deep red indents on my wrists from the rough treatment they¡¯d received. My eyes are on the crawl opening, my mind on my battered wrists, and I almost miss the quiet thunk from below as the bar across the door is removed.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.¡®Oh, shit!¡¯ I hunker down as best I can and tense, ready to jump down.


    Bran walks in, a wicked knife in hand that I instantly recognise as one of mine.


    ¡°What the hell¡¯s¡­?¡± he grunts, looking at the empty post and discarded ropes. ¡°Where the heck did you¡­?¡± I land, bat already swinging, and with a loud crack, I smack it as hard as I can into his head. He doesn¡¯t even get a chance to grunt as he collapses in a heap on the ground. I drop my improvised weapon, my arms sore from the reverberation of the blow.


    ¡®Damn, that went better than expected,¡¯ I breath out hard with relief. I look up and see Misty peering down at me. ¡°Fancy having a nose outside, see if it¡¯s clear out there?¡± I ask her.


    She jumps down, landing next to Bran, gives him a sniff, and then saunters outside, her tail flicking side to side as she goes.


    I bend down to inspect the man. He¡¯s still breathing, but it¡¯s ragged and bubbling. Near his ear, there¡¯s a dent, oozing bloody fluid, and blood is also running from his ears and nose. He won¡¯t be waking up soon, if at all. I reclaim my knife and his pouch, quickly checking his pockets¡ªnothing of interest apart from an iron key. As I finish searching him, he flops onto his back, his breathing becomes even more burbling, and I consider putting him on his side. I¡¯d learned that once in a first aid course at work, supposed to keep the airway clear. In a past life, it would have been high on my list of priorities, but now?


    ¡°Fuck him,¡± I say. He had no good intentions for me; if he drowns on his own gore, then shit happens. I feel a mental nudge from Misty¡ªit seems all is clear outside¡ªso I leave Bran to his rasping and head out of the shed.


    The cat is sitting on the porch by the open front door, casually grooming herself in a way only cats can truly get away with.


    ¡®Best decision I ever made,¡¯ I muse. ¡®Insisting you came along.¡¯ I smile ironically at the thought. ¡®Del, if you¡¯d known, you¡¯d be dead if it wasn¡¯t for that ginger furball.¡¯ I chuckle to myself. ¡®Many times over in just a few days.¡¯ I sit down beside her, spending a couple of minutes tussling and scratching her belly as she bats my hand in playful mock attack. I feel the tension ease from my shoulders, a moment of calm settling over my mind.


    ¡°All right, that¡¯s enough of that,¡± I say as I stand. ¡°Let¡¯s see if we can figure out what¡¯s going on and where they¡¯ve taken Elara.¡±


    I begin systematically searching the house, and I¡¯m not neat about it. I pull open drawers, emptying their contents, rifling through anything I can find. Mostly just ledgers for their woodcutting business and some old letters that hold no interest. Our gear is easy to find¡ªit¡¯s piled on the table in the kitchen where we¡¯d eaten last night. In a cupboard, I find an almost empty bottle of some liquid that smells of Sombercap and something else I can¡¯t place. I¡¯d guess this was what we¡¯d been drugged with. Sombercap has a paralysing effect, and I¡¯d assume the other ingredient sent us deep into the land of slumber. I pocket the vial and its remaining contents.


    ¡®Never know when that might come in handy,¡¯ and continue my rummaging.


    Upstairs are just two messy bedrooms with rough furniture and rougher bedding, the floors littered with dirty clothes. The rooms smell of sweat and unwashed feet¡ªnot pleasant, so I don¡¯t linger.


    Back downstairs, I raid the pantry, filling my pack with bread, dried meats, and cheese. A decent few days¡¯ dinners are the least these bastards owe me. In the back of the pantry, at ground level, there¡¯s a door about two feet high. I open it and inside find an iron-bound chest.


    ¡®Bran¡¯s key?¡¯ I think and pull it out to try. The lock is stiff, but it gives way to my pressure, and with a loud click, it turns, and I¡¯m able to open the chest. The contents are anticlimactic, to say the least¡ªsome copper and tin coins plus my first silver coin. I¡¯ve no idea of the currency¡¯s value here, but I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll find out and get suitably fleeced by some charlatan before I learn any better.


    Sitting down at the kitchen table, I go through what I¡¯ve gathered. I¡¯ve got mine and Elara¡¯s weapons, so I put the bandolier of throwing knives back on and re-equip my vambrace and pauldron, before slinging on my sword belt. Slinging the bow and quiver over my shoulders, I feel ready to face the world once more.


    ¡®And what a shit world it is, Del. Bloody dinos did this place a favour when they took over.¡¯ I open the door and hear a hiss from Misty.


    Looking up, I hear rasping wheezes and see a very wobbly, bleary-eyed Bran gripping hard onto the shed door frame to stop himself toppling over.


    ¡°Man, you look a mess,¡± I say as I unsling my bow. ¡°Still, well done on being able to take a hit like a man.¡± With a zing, my arrow covers the distance in a brief second, and he collapses, dead to the floor, an arrow sticking up from his chest. I look at his body briefly. What sort of man am I becoming, that taking a life is becoming so cheap?


    ¡®Damnit, Del, stay focused.¡¯ There¡¯s more at stake here than just some damned idiots who wanted to kill me and kidnap Elara.


    [You have killed human tradesman, Experience gained]


    I re-sling my bow, pull the house door closed behind me, and follow Misty as she leads me off downstream in the direction Seth had taken.

 Chapter 14 - A nice friendly chat

    My tracking skills weren¡¯t the best, but these tracks were fresh. One set¡ªSeth¡¯s¡ªwas heavy and readily marked the dew-damp grass and mud of the trail, while the lighter paw prints would soon fade, though Misty informed me the smell of dog was strong and easy to follow. The trail led, as expected, downstream. Why the brothers had drugged us and hauled off Elara was beyond me. As we followed the path, I began examining the events in detail.


    ¡®Maybe I was hasty in how I dealt with Bran,¡¯ I thought. ¡®Maybe the knife was to cut my ropes. I didn¡¯t exactly give him time to talk.¡¯


    I looked at the cat. ¡°What do you think, furball? Did I do right?¡± Misty just looked at me, huffed, and carried on leading the way.


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right, cat,¡± I said. He had a knife, I didn¡¯t. He thought I was tied; I wasn¡¯t. My mind was starting to tie itself into convoluted knots, with morality and survival instincts warring against each other.


    ¡®But if they wanted me dead, why not quietly slit my throat once I passed out?¡¯ This was really starting to grate on my gears. ¡®Del, you are NOT a murderer!¡¯ I forcefully tell myself. ¡®This was self-defence.¡¯ And they still had Elara¡ªor rather, he still had her, I thought ruefully.


    We came to a small branch in the path. The well-used one continued downstream while a narrow track led to the water¡¯s edge and a barely noticeable ford across. Misty immediately indicated they¡¯d branched off here and crossed, or at least entered, the river. I picked her up¡ªdarn thing never liked getting unnecessarily wet, I chuckled. Once across, she had a good sniff, and I examined the ground. The tracks were fainter here as the ground was harder, and the early damp was disappearing as the morning warmed up. Misty, though, could still smell the dog, and I could see faint signs, so we knew we were still on the right path.


    [Tracking has improved slightly]


    ¡®So not to the village then?¡¯ I mused. Misty gave a small mewl, the scent was stronger; we were getting closer. ¡°Okay, girl,¡± I acknowledged, ¡°let¡¯s keep it quiet and careful until we know what¡¯s going on.¡± Our speed through the thickening woods slowed as we tried to be as quiet as possible while gaining on our quarry. Misty continued to lead, mentally nudging me with updates and looking back in disgust every time I managed to snap a twig underfoot or failed to catch a branch that whipped back as I passed.


    ¡®It¡¯s okay for you,¡¯ I grumbled. ¡®I¡¯m bigger than you, and I wasn¡¯t born to be stealthy.¡¯


    Misty just turned her head, looked at me, and blinked slowly. ¡°Yeah, same back at you, cat.¡±


    As we got closer, Misty¡¯s slinking grew lower, and I paid a lot more attention to where I stepped. The breeze was blowing downhill toward us as the path wound slowly uphill¡ªa relief, knowing a dog¡¯s keen sense of smell. Up ahead, I started to pick up the sound of voices¡ªone angry, female. It had to be Elara; the other, I guessed, was Seth.


    ¡®Good, keep that up,¡¯ I thought. ¡®Any distraction helps get you free.¡¯


    I sent a thought to Misty. ¡®See if you can find a good position. I¡¯ll carry on up the path.¡¯ She gave me a look. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll stay quiet,¡± I hissed at her.


    Not long after, I was peering through dense foliage at them. From the look of it, they¡¯d paused for a rest. Newt was lying down, ears pricked and eyes on Elara. She had some sort of complicated chain glowing faintly around her hands and was sitting on the ground, looking very angry, shouting at Seth one moment, then almost pleading the next.


    ¡°Get these damn chains off me, you fat, hairy ape!¡± she yelled.


    ¡°You know I can¡¯t do that,¡± Seth replied, almost too calm in the face of Elara¡¯s vitriol.


    ¡°I won¡¯t run¡ªNewt could catch me easy. Please, I need to go. You know, go?¡± She crossed and uncrossed her legs dramatically.


    ¡°Step behind that tree if you must. You don¡¯t need me to unchain your magic to take a piss.¡±


    I watched the two of them, almost admiring Elara¡¯s pluck, despite her circumstances. ¡®Keep on putting on the pressure, lass,¡¯ I thought. I stayed hidden, figuring I might find out more about what was going on if I just exercised a hint of patience.


    ¡°But whyyy?¡± she really drew out the word, sounding plaintive and tearful. ¡°You¡¯re so big and strong, and I couldn¡¯t hurt you if I tried.¡±


    ¡®Damn, Elara, way to play the emotion card,¡¯ I admired.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t stop whining, I¡¯ll gag you as well,¡± Seth retorted with a hint of frustration. ¡°If you shut up and walk, we¡¯ll be there just after the midday sun.¡±


    ¡®Be there? Be where?¡¯ I needed more.


    ¡°You complete and total moron, Seth. I¡¯m not the prize you think I am.¡± Her voice rose. ¡°Let me GO!¡± she screamed, tears of anger and frustration running down her face.


    ¡®More, just a bit more, Seth,¡¯ I urged silently, hoping for more clues.


    Just then, the wind turned, gusting up the rise toward them. Newt¡¯s head perked up, looking my way.


    ¡®Shit,¡¯ I thought, trying my best to slow my breathing and steady my heart as my pulse immediately reacted.


    In a blur, a small ginger missile appeared out of nowhere. Claws extended, Misty raced across Newt¡¯s back, leaving bloody trails in her path before disappearing into the undergrowth. Newt immediately leapt up and charged off in pursuit, and as I unslung my bow, I saw a little smile curl up on Elara¡¯s lips.


    I stood up, bow drawn and pointed right at Seth¡¯s heart.


    ¡°Now why don¡¯t you do what the lady says and untie her? Then we can all sit down and have a nice, friendly little chat.¡±


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.¡°What the hell, how are you here?¡± He started to draw a knife and stepped my way. I loosed the arrow, another notched before it even got halfway to him.


    ¡®Damn it, missed,¡¯ I curse myself, but it makes Seth¡¯s step falter.


    ¡°That¡¯s the only warning shot you get. The next one goes in your leg, then your arm.¡± If in doubt, bluff it out¡ªa motto that¡¯s served me well enough.


    ¡°So why don¡¯t we have a civilised talk instead?¡± I shrug, keeping the bow unwavering. ¡°I don¡¯t want a new dog, and I don¡¯t like killing animals.¡± I pause. ¡®Got to love the dramatic pause,¡¯ I chuckle to myself. ¡°You, on the other hand, still have options. Do you want to live or not?¡±


    I knew, from his stance both last night and today, that he wasn¡¯t a fighter; in truth, he was probably little more than a simple woodsman¡ªone in over his head. His brother, on the other hand, had felt dangerous right from the moment we¡¯d met him yesterday. Bran is definitely the fighter of the pair.


    ¡®Was the fighter,¡¯ I mentally amend. Seth slowly sheathes his blade and reaches for a key in his pouch, which he passes back to Elara.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Bran?¡± he asks. ¡°How did you find us?¡±


    I wait until Elara is free before responding.


    ¡°Take a seat and give the girl a drink. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re both¡­¡± From the woods, a painful and pitiable yelping erupts. Seth spins in that direction.


    ¡°Newt!¡± he yells, his voice full of anxiety.


    The yelping continues, rapidly heading toward us. Newt bursts through a bush, his nose and muzzle streaming blood with several nasty slashes on his flank. With a whimper, he charges up to Seth, trying to hide his large black body behind his owner, shaking in pain and fear.


    From the underbrush, a ginger cat saunters out, gives us all a look only a cat can, and starts calmly cleaning the blood spots from her fur.


    ¡°What in all the hells is that?¡± Seth exclaims.


    ¡°That¡¯s Misty,¡± I answer. ¡°Surely you know what a cat is?¡±


    ¡°I know what a cat is, but that thing is some kind of demon spawn.¡± He crouches down to hug his dog. ¡°Have you seen what it did to my poor dog?¡±


    ¡°She gets protective of Elara and me,¡± I say simply.


    Seth is completely distracted by Newt, pulling a pot of salve from his pack and liberally applying it to the dog¡¯s wounds while Newt quietly whines. If we weren¡¯t in the middle of a twisted life-or-death situation, it would almost be touching how he ministered to the injured animal.


    Every so often, Newt¡¯s eyes turn fearfully to Misty, who, now clean, just sits watching, her tail twitching slowly back and forth.


    ¡®Good girl,¡¯ I think to her through our mental link. ¡®Extra fish for you tonight.¡¯


    Once Seth is done, I gesture for him to sit, and he does. Newt immediately lies across him, trying to curl up as small as possible into his owner¡¯s lap. Well, that makes things easier, I think. No way he¡¯s getting up fast from under that weight. Feeling the situation is now more under control¡ªwith Elara free, Newt subdued, Seth pinned under 150 pounds of dog, and Misty on guard¡ªI sling the bow across my shoulder and walk fully into the little camp.


    ¡°Now, isn¡¯t that better?¡± I say. Crouching down, I give Misty a little scratch behind her ear, then go to Elara and give her a gentle hug.


    ¡°I knew you would come,¡± she says quietly, the ghost of a smile crossing her face.


    I smile back. ¡°Of course,¡± I say.


    Seth looks at me, his face a mix of emotions¡ªfear mostly, but also relief. I don¡¯t think he wants to fight, and now he at least has hope he might live to see another dawn.


    ¡°So where is Bran?¡± he asks again, a slight catch in his voice. ¡°How did you find us?¡±


    I ponder for a moment. I hadn¡¯t planned on lying, but truth can be coloured in many ways. I didn¡¯t want to fight Seth; I knew how it would end. I didn¡¯t want to be the man who took the path of least resistance and easy bloodletting.


    ¡°Bran is back at the lumber yard,¡± I answer honestly. ¡°And you weren¡¯t that hard to track.¡±


    I consider how best to handle the situation.


    ¡°So why did you drug us?¡± I ask. ¡°What was the plan with Elara and me?¡±


    Seth looks defeated, his plans all unravelled, and he seems to visibly shrink.


    ¡°There¡¯s a man¡ªa wizard, I think¡ªback a couple of days into the woods. He came by a while ago and asked us to look out for an elf girl.¡± He sighs. ¡°Two days later, you both turn up. I didn¡¯t want to do anything other than feed you and see you on your way in the morning. But Bran¡­he always wanted to find an edge, make some quick coin.¡±


    He looks upset, as though laying bare dark family secrets.


    ¡°The next thing I knew, Bran brought in the beer, and I knew he¡¯d laced it. I didn¡¯t say anything¡ªhe can get angry easily.¡±


    He looks up at Elara with eyes glistening.


    ¡°I argued with him for a long time, but he said either I took you to the wizard man, or he¡¯d just kill you and sell Elara to the slavers.¡±


    ¡°What were his plans for me?¡± I ask quietly.


    ¡°He told me he was going to keep you for another day or so, then let you go.¡±


    ¡°Did you believe him?¡± My eyes bore into the top of his head as he keeps his gaze downcast, focused on the dog in his lap.


    ¡°No,¡± he answers quietly. He glances up at me, then quickly back down again. ¡°What happened to him?¡±


    ¡°He came at me with a knife,¡± I respond simply. ¡°But I was already free.¡±


    Seth glances up at me again, this time holding my gaze.


    ¡°There was a fight. He didn¡¯t win.¡±


    Seth takes a breath, as if to steady himself. ¡°Is he¡­?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I answer gently. I¡¯ve come to realise Seth is just a gentle giant. I feel the truth in his words, and I feel empathy for him in a way I hadn¡¯t expected.


    Tears roll down his face. ¡°Mum always said one day he¡¯d pick on the wrong person.¡±


    I look towards Elara; her face is also sad, and I¡¯m well aware that my own feelings at this moment are very confused. I¡¯d been right in thinking Bran had no good intentions; killing him was totally self-defence, even if pre-emptive. But on the other hand, I¡¯d created a situation where a brother is now left to figure things out on his own.


    ¡®Menolly, I think you were right about moral ambiguity.¡¯

 Chapter 15 - A whole gold piece

    So now I had a problem, as if I didn¡¯t have enough already. Elara stepped over and linked her arm in mine. Whether for her comfort or mine, I didn¡¯t know, but I appreciated it all the same.


    ¡®Well now, Del, this is a bit of a pickle.¡¯ I shake my head at the predicament. I unsling the bow and quiver and pass them to Elara.


    ¡°I need to think,¡± I say. ¡°Keep an eye on Seth, but don¡¯t kill him unless you have to.¡±


    I see Seth take a visible gulp. ¡®Funny, I thought that was just a saying; well, you learn something new every day,¡¯ I think with a wry trace of amusement. I step away a bit and start pacing, my mind racing as I try to consider our options.


    ¡®I am not a murderer.¡¯ It¡¯s my first thought, filled with conviction. ¡®An easy option, but totally off the table unless he¡¯s really, really stupid.¡¯ The path crunches slightly underfoot as I pace, and the birds seem to have gone to quieter spots to sing from; I can¡¯t blame them.


    I look at him. ¡°Tell me about this wizard,¡± I say.


    Seth almost startles as I address him; he¡¯s been half-hiding beneath Newt¡¯s bulk, soothing him with gentle words. He looks up. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡ªeverything?¡± I shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about him, so I need to know whatever you can tell me, especially if he¡¯s after Elara.¡±


    Seth purses his lips. ¡°I don¡¯t really know a lot. He¡¯s lived up in the high woods near the river spring for as long as I can remember.¡±


    ¡°What makes you say he¡¯s a wizard?¡± I ask.


    He shakes his head. ¡°It¡¯s a rumour that goes around the villages¡ªmaybe just something to frighten the kids. But everyone says he¡¯s an old wizard who fought in the last heaving.¡±


    That grabs my attention. ¡®Heaving? What the heck was that?¡¯ I look at him. How much does he know, and how much is just gossip and rumour?


    ¡°I¡¯m not from around here,¡± I say. ¡°What is this heaving? When was it?¡±


    Seth gives me an odd, almost confused look. For that matter, so does Elara.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know the heaving? Everyone knows the heaving.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not everyone, so just assume I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about and tell me.¡±


    Still looking puzzled, he explains how the Underdark creatures grow too numerous every couple of hundred years or so and break through to the surface in random locations across Gondowa. Seeking to carve new territory to expand their numbers, they¡¯ve, in times past, torn down entire kingdoms. The heaving leads to a congress of all the sapient races to quell the tide of destruction before it can take hold.


    ¡°Three heavings ago, the congress wasn¡¯t enough, and the halflings were almost totally wiped out. They still have only a few scattered villages left from their once vast holdings.¡± I hear sadness in his voice and sense the fear that even mentioning the heaving brings out in him.


    ¡°And this wizard fought in the last heaving?¡± I ask. ¡°When was this?¡±


    Elara speaks up. ¡°Just over 170 years ago.¡±


    ¡°So this man¡ªI assume the wizard is human, or is he another race?¡ªhas been around for at least a couple of hundred years?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Maybe more,¡± Seth answers. ¡°At least, that¡¯s what the stories say. And yes, he seems human enough to me.¡±


    ¡®So, Del, we have some powerful bloke up in the hills who¡¯s after Elara.¡¯ I look at my friend. Had I really only known her a couple of days? It seems longer. ¡®Well, he can¡¯t have her. Nope, we need to find out more.¡¯


    Elara is looking at me a bit oddly. ¡°You look lost in thought,¡± she says. ¡°Care to share?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot to process,¡± I say simply. ¡°Seth, do you know anything more about why he wanted Elara, or anything else about him¡ªa name, for example?¡±


    He shrugs. ¡°Can¡¯t really say; we just always called him the wizard.¡± He casually strokes Newt, who is snoring in a rhythmic, almost relaxing sound. ¡°He came by the yard a couple of days before you showed up, as I said. Told us he was looking for an elf girl and offered a whole gold piece if we found one and brought her to him.¡±


    ¡°Did he give you a description?¡± Elara asks.


    ¡°Not really, just young and probably travelling alone. I don¡¯t mess with back-chatting magic users, so we just said okay, and he left.¡± He waves his hand to indicate Elara and me. ¡°Then you two turned up. I already told you what happened after that.¡±


    ¡°You also mentioned slavers,¡± I say. ¡°Are there a lot of them around?¡±


    ¡°Not really, never seen one myself,¡± he answers with a shrug. ¡°But in the taverns you can usually find their agents, and they¡¯re always willing to trade. Normally, they buy up thieves and whatnot, as not many places have somewhere to keep wrong ¡®uns that don¡¯t deserve a hanging.¡±


    I nod, adding yet more things to keep in mind about this world. But that could wait, as I had more pressing matters to consider.


    Like what the hell I was going to do now¡ªsteer clear of strange powerful people who want one or the other of us for reasons unknown. Seth was a problem I hadn¡¯t yet figured out how to solve, and we still needed to find somewhere to get Elara the training she needs.


    ¡®Even if that man is really a wizard, he¡¯s not the trainer she needs,¡¯ I consider with absolute certainty. ¡®Teachers don¡¯t go around trying to have new students kidnapped.¡¯ But we do need to find out more about this man and what he might want with her. I look long and hard at Seth, sat there in front of me, cuddling his dog. He was, in every sense of the word, a simple woodsman: functional clothing, large calloused hands, and weathered skin from years of outdoor labour. Not a threat¡ªyet potentially the biggest threat I¡¯ve faced so far. He knew I was responsible for his brother¡¯s death, and he had kidnapped Elara. To deliver her to lord knows what the wizard had planned. Yet, when faced up to it, he¡¯d stood down and given what help he could in terms of information. Could I let him go and trust that he wouldn¡¯t turn up one night with a knife to my throat?


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.¡®I am not a murderer,¡¯ I reaffirm as I tussle with the problem at hand.


    ¡°What am I¡ªare we,¡± I adjust to include Elara, ¡°going to do about you?¡±


    ¡°How do you mean?¡± Seth asks, his voice trembling slightly. His eyes flick around nervously, and I notice Newt stir, picking up on Seth¡¯s anxiety.


    ¡°You acted badly towards us. You¡¯ve no idea what fate you were taking Elara to, and even though you say you didn¡¯t know Bran¡¯s intentions to kill me, you must have had some inkling.¡± I watch as small beads of sweat form on his forehead and his hands tremble, despite his efforts to hide it by stroking the dog.


    ¡°Now Bran is dead, and you¡­ well, like I said, I don¡¯t know what to do about you.¡±


    ¡°Do you think we should kill him?¡± Elara asks, her voice firm but laced with concern. Seth¡¯s eyes go wide, the fear and alarm plain on his face.


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t kill me,¡± he almost whispers, his voice hoarse. ¡°Please.¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t, but I also don¡¯t know what to do. I honestly think Bran was the driving force behind this, and he¡¯s already paid the price.¡± I sigh, watching as hope mixes with the swirling emotions on Seth¡¯s face.


    ¡°But I can¡¯t just leave you, knowing you might come back another time, looking for an advantage.¡±


    I was having this discussion in front of Seth, though I didn¡¯t really know why. Maybe I wanted him to know he was in debt to us by still breathing, or maybe I wanted him to understand that I¡¯d considered him and found him no longer a threat. But the real reason might be my own fear: that it would be too easy to make a call, to lose my sense of right and wrong in this place. I could feel how close it was, that wrong decision, lurking there.


    Elara spoke up. ¡°Seth, what would you do if we let you go?¡±


    He looked at her, a tear forming at the corner of his eye.


    ¡°Go back and bury Bran,¡± he says quietly. ¡°Then Newt and I would pack up what we could and move on.¡± He gives a sad, half-smile. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to make furniture, but Bran said it wouldn¡¯t pay. Well, he doesn¡¯t get a say anymore. I¡¯ll move well away from here, away from wizards and scary cats, and set up a place to sell tables and things people need.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°If that¡¯s what you¡¯re going to do, Seth, then I guess you¡¯d better do it. Maybe one day I¡¯ll find your shop and buy a comfortable chair from you.¡± Then I let steel edge into my tone. ¡°But if I ever see you again in a way that makes me feel threatened, you¡¯ll join your brother.¡±


    The look in his eyes tells me he¡¯s taken the point to heart. I was putting a lot of faith in a man I barely knew, one who¡¯d been part of a plan to harm us. ¡®Dammit, Del, better a fool than a cold-blooded murderer.¡¯


    ¡°Okay, get up. Go,¡± I say, then turn to Misty. ¡°Keep an eye on him, girl. Make sure he doesn¡¯t try anything stupid.¡±


    Misty jumps up onto a branch, giving a dramatic hiss. Seth glances at her, as does Newt, trepidation in both their eyes.


    I give her a mental nudge. ¡®Follow them for a mile or so, let them catch the odd glimpse of you, but stay hidden. If they head back to the yard, catch up with us. We¡¯ll take a short break, then head back to the river and down to the village.¡¯ I shake my head; it amazed me how I was getting used to this way of communicating with her. I just hoped she¡¯d start using words someday.


    As Seth and Newt disappeared down the narrow trail, I looked over at Elara. Tears were streaming down her face, the strong, determined woman I¡¯d seen a moment ago was now suddenly vulnerable. In a step, she was in my arms, gripping me tightly, her silent tears wetting my shoulder.


    ¡°I thought you were dead,¡± she sniffled. ¡°And I soon would be too.¡±


    I let her cry, gently stroking her hair and back.


    ¡°You¡¯re safe now,¡± I said softly. ¡°Both safe and well again.¡±


    She releases her grip and steps back as I reach into the pack, pulling out the waterskin and handing it to her. She takes a few gulps, then wipes the last of the tears from her face. She glances around at the bit of wood we¡¯re in.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, then,¡± she says, and without a second look back, she leads the way back to the river.


    The last few miles are uneventful. We see a few more of those not-rabbits fishing in the river. ¡®I really must find out what they are,¡¯ I muse. Otherwise, our footfalls are accompanied only by the rustling of leaves and the occasional bird call warning of our approach. Once, I catch a glimpse of ginger fur in the tall grasses and feel the touch of a satisfied mind. Someone¡¯s been munching fish, I¡¯m smugly informed. By mid-afternoon, we can see the haze of drifting smoke ahead and smell the distinct aroma of cooking food and woodsmoke. The village is close. I can¡¯t deny a bit of unease, though. Had that old wizard put a target on our backs here too? Forward was the only way now, but I knew caution would be needed for whatever lay ahead.

 Chapter 16 – No time for homesickness

    We continue down the hill, the afternoon sun warm on our backs. Around us, the trees start to thin, leaves rustling in natural harmony with the water burbling along beside us. The situation would be idyllic if it weren¡¯t for the inner tension I feel at what might await us.


    We round a final bend, and ahead we see the village unfold. A wooden palisade surrounds a modest-sized settlement. Thatched roofs top a hodgepodge assortment of buildings scattered seemingly at random on both sides of the water. In the centre is an open square with a stone pillar in the middle. A narrow stone bridge crosses the river to join the two halves into one. The smell of woodsmoke from cooking fires rises towards us, along with the sound of adult conversation and children laughing and playing. A rhythmic ringing of hammer on metal comes from a building towards the water''s edge.


    As we get closer, I begin to smell the distinct earthy odour of animals, and the occasional lowing of a cow and grunts of pigs can be heard. Stretching away from the village are several fields growing crops of some kind, and many of the homes appear to have vegetable gardens alongside them.


    ¡®Looks like a picture come to life, a Constable complete with hidden sharp knives.¡¯


    As we get closer to the village, we see children playing outside notice us and stop to watch for a minute before running back into the village. One of them runs into what I think is probably a smithy of some sort. It has one of the few tile roofs in the settlement, smoke rising from a tall chimney that sticks up from the back of the building, and the rhythmic hammering, which had been coming from it, stops shortly after the youngster runs in.


    A minute or two later, a big man comes out and leans easily against the building corner, looking at us. He looks grimy, with soot-smudged skin that shines with sweat. He holds a large, heavy-looking hammer loosely at his side and wears a heavy leather apron over his clothes.


    ¡®Well, Del, if that¡¯s not every storyteller''s perfect depiction of a village smith, then I¡¯m a monkey''s uncle,¡¯ I muse with a wry smile.


    ¡°Afternoon,¡± he says quietly as we approach. ¡°Don¡¯t get many coming down from the hill.¡± His voice carries a mix of curiosity tinged with wariness.


    ¡°We have been travelling for a few days,¡± I answer. ¡°Exploring and hunting, found the river and followed it down.¡±


    ¡°Can be dangerous up there, lots of folks that have no good in mind for honest people,¡± he says, and I feel the challenge in his words.


    ¡°I know,¡± I say. ¡°Ran across a couple of bandits that tried to have at us. They had already got the better of some other poor soul.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± he asks. ¡°Can you describe them? What about this other fella?¡±


    I describe the cut-throats to him and give him a brief description of the encounter, with additions from Elara to embellish my recounting. The other one, the man they had already killed, I describe as well. Something in the smith¡¯s stance makes me feel he recognises something about him.


    ¡°There was nothing of note that could really help me identify him except a small pendant.¡± I reach into my pouch and retrieve it, showing it to the big man. He nods on seeing it.


    ¡°Show this to Vita. She¡¯s the village bonesetter. Person most likely to know something of this.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, I will.¡± I put the pendant away. ¡°Is there an inn or tavern we could freshen up in and get something to eat?¡±


    He gives us another look over, his eyes assessing, judging if he thinks we might be trouble or not.


    ¡°Inn¡¯s just the other side of the square, you can¡¯t miss it. Jake¡¯s a good man and a terrible cook, so hope his wife is in the kitchen. Tell him Merl sent you, and he will see you right.¡±


    I hold out my hand, and he grasps it in a firm handshake. ¡°Thank you, Merl, I¡¯m Del and this is Elara.¡± I glance around; no sign of Misty. ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be back before we leave¡ªwill be needing supplies and some maintenance on gear doing.¡± I smile.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be here,¡± he says and steps back into the forge doorway. I feel his eyes watching us head into the village itself for a moment before the ringing of his hammer starts again.


    We meander through the dusty streets of the village, which is alive with the sounds and smells of a thriving community. Children run laughing and yelling at each other through the alleys and gardens, older youths appear to be doing simple errands like carrying deliveries or washing sheets. Women move quickly from place to place or stand in gardens and on street corners, chatting and gossiping with one another. The men, those that I see, are all engaged in one activity or another; we pass a carpenter¡¯s shop with a couple of guys inside working on a project of some kind. It makes Del think of recent events.


    ¡®I hope Seth is managing to figure things out.¡¯ All things considered, I have no hard feelings towards the man. A cooper sits on a stool outside his workshop, tapping staves into place, and through the open window of another shop, I see a man folding and arranging clothes on tables. Many of the businesses appear to be converted front rooms of various cottages, and the scene is rustic but homely. It is a place I could easily settle down in, and it reminds me of how my own small-town home may have been a few hundred years ago.


    ¡®Don¡¯t go getting daft now,¡¯ I chide myself. ¡®Too much to do to get tied up in homesickness, you daft old bugger.¡¯


    Elara nudges my arm. ¡°Do you notice anything?¡± she whispers quietly. I look at her.


    ¡°Sorry, I was miles away. What have you noticed?¡±


    ¡°Look at the people,¡± her answer is cryptic but brings me back to focus more on what¡¯s going on around me and less on daydreams and atmosphere. I begin to be more observant of the people around us as we make our way towards the central square. While some just ignore us and go about their way, those that look at us, for the most part, just look curiously at people they don¡¯t know strolling through their village. However, some of the glances go beyond curiosity into suspicion, and even one or two look outright hostile. I wonder what could be generating that effect. A couple of times, I notice the ones giving hostile or suspicious looks turn and melt away into the streets and back alleys.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.¡®I wonder where they are off to,¡¯ I thought. "Well, Elara, I guess we stay friendly and stay on our toes. I am sure we will soon enough find out if something concerning us is going on," I say to my companion.


    ¡®It''s possible they are not used to elves coming here, or,¡¯ I feel the touch of trepidation, ¡®word of the wizard¡¯s bounty has reached here as well.¡¯


    The village square opens up ahead of us. To one side, a small selection of carts with awnings is set up selling wares: a butcher displays cuts of meat and poultry alongside a fishmonger who sells bigger fish than we¡ªwell, Misty¡ªmanaged to catch from the river. Other stalls seem stocked with various items; one has household goods, and another is piled high with breads and cakes. Behind the market stands a large building, looking rather imposing with its heavy double doors and wrought iron gate. The whole area bustles with many residents piling bags with goods to take away.


    At the other end of the square is a large stone-built building, three stories tall, making it one of the largest in the place. A painted sign hangs above its door, depicting a colourful bird with its legs chained up to a large metal ball.


    We step inside its well-lit interior. Despite the warm day, a healthy fire burns in a large open hearth against one wall. The wooden floor is sprinkled with sawdust and straw. Tables and chairs are spread around the large open room, mostly empty at this time of day. A man stands behind a bar at the far end of the room, wiping down the top with a cloth; he looks up as we enter.


    "Afternoon, miss, sir. Welcome to the Cock and Ball. How can I help you?"


    I smile. "You must be Jake. Merl sent us to you, said you might be able to help us with freshening up and getting some food."


    The man¡¯s face opens up into a broader smile.


    "He would do at that," he says. "And I can certainly help you with food and a bath, should you want it. If it''s just a wash-up, then there is a trough out back you can use to wipe the road off your face and hands."


    Elara is almost bouncing beside me. "I could so manage a hot bath," she beams.


    "Bath is two copper or three for hot, plus a copper for the boy." Jake has barely got the words out before Elara dumps four coins on the bar. He smoothly sweeps away the money and whistles. As the sound fades, a scrawny lad appears through the door at the end of the bar. I notice his face, suffering the adolescent signs of acne that I remember with such distaste from my own youth.


    "Hot bath, son," Jake says. "Room two is free."


    The lad nods his head, and with a "Follow me," leads Elara off upstairs.


    "You missed lunchtime," he states. "Dinner is at dusk, but I can rustle you up some bread and cheese in the meantime."


    "That would be very welcome¡ªand a mug of ale too, if you could," I reply. "Meanwhile, I am just going to use your facilities and freshen up a bit."


    "Latrine¡¯s out back, by the fence¡ªcan¡¯t miss it if you have a nose." He informs me helpfully. I simply nod thanks, head through the backdoor, and rinse off in the trough before attending to other matters.


    Feeling considerably more comfortable, I head back inside. Quiet conversation at one of the tables cuts off as I enter. ¡®Did I hear them say wizard?¡¯ OK, keep careful ears and eyes all the more open. I collect my plate and mug and move to a table, sitting with my back to a wall where I can easily see the stairs and door.


    ¡®Getting paranoid, Del,¡¯ I think as I chow down. ¡®Better paranoid than dead or worse.¡¯


    I sigh. This is a nice place; it gives me good vibes. I don¡¯t want there to be a negative side to things. Just for once, I want uncomplicated. I notice one of the men who had been talking at the table has gone.


    ¡®Dammit, I said uncomplicated,¡¯ I grumble to myself as I loosen my knife in its sheath, just in case, before continuing with my meal. The food is filling¡ªa rich, nutty bread with lashings of butter and a hefty hunk of sharp, hard cheese. The beer is refreshing, with a citrus zing to it. It would be so easy to just forget the world for a bit and enjoy the peace of the day for what it is.


    As I sit in contemplation, Elara comes down, looking happy and content with wet hair, damp skin, and a broad smile.


    "I needed that," she states as she sits down with me. Jake brings over a plate of food with a mug of ale for her, and another for me. He looks around the bar, and then slides in next to us.


    "Are you planning on staying long?" he asks. "I can put you up for a night, maybe two, but that¡¯s it. Folk round here can get leery at strangers, and begging pardon, miss, but there are some who have bad history with your folks."


    I give him a questioning look.


    He responds with a shrug. "I have no issue with any kind of folk, but some in this village still hold onto long-dead grudges."


    Elara looks at Jake. "Thank you for the warning, Jake. It¡¯s appreciated." She gives him a warm smile and briefly touches her hand to his.


    "Not a problem. I shall put you in room two, as you¡¯ve already had use of it anyway. Seven copper each a night, to include evening meal and break of fast."


    I pass over a tin coin. "Food and board for two days, possibly three, and the rest for your trouble," I pause. "And honesty. It¡¯s really appreciated, Jake."


    Once we have finished up our refreshments, we take our empties to the bar. "Thanks, Jake. We need to find someone called Vita. Can you point us in the right direction?"


    "Old Vita? Sure. Head out the south gate and over the river at the ford. Follow the path for about five minutes, and you¡¯ll see her cottage among the trees just off the path."


    "See you later then for dinner, Jake." With a small wave, we turn and head outside. We still seem to attract the occasional look and even catch sight of a distinct glare sent our way as we pass.


    ¡®Nothing queer as folk,¡¯ I think to myself with a small shake of my head. As we head outside the village once more, I notice Misty has joined us again. I touch her mind. ¡®Is everything alright?¡¯ I ask.


    I get back a confused garble, quite unlike any of her previous thoughts, then, ¡®Confusing place, good, bad, both.¡¯


    I almost trip as I stop dead and look at my cat, a look of total shock on my face. Elara also stops and looks at me, puzzled.


    "What''s wrong, Del?" she asks, concern in her voice.


    I shake my head in mixed wonder and amusement.


    "Nothing, lass, my damn cat just spoke to me."

 Chapter 17 – Rumours over tea

    "She what?" Elara asked. "How?"


    I explain to her how I have always been able to feel Misty¡¯s emotions. As my companion, we have a sort of mind link over short distances.


    "I normally see a sort of blurry image of what she has seen or is seeing, you know," I tap my head. "In here. I can also tell if she is happy or not, scared, or angry. Strong emotions¡­ so a common one seems to be hungry." I smile down at the preening cat, who truly seems to be basking in the attention she has garnered.


    ¡®Not scared, don¡¯t do scared,¡¯ I feel her tell me.


    On a whim, I send a thought up to wherever my observers might be. Thinking perhaps it might be better to check something basic before I go saying too much. I¡¯ve already been hauled out on that once¡ªno point in getting a second telling-off.


    ¡®Menolly or Teach or great BB, do folks round here have access to your shit; all the levels and such, or is it just me?¡¯ I have no idea if I will be heard, or get an answer, but¡ª


    In my head, I hear the robotic voice of Teach.


    "They have not been integrated into the Overmind. If they had, this test would not have been necessary." And all goes quiet again.


    ¡®Alright, that answers that question. No confusing the natives with talk of levels and shit then, Del.¡¯


    "So, because we have this strong bond, I think she is picking up new tricks, kind of learning more."


    Elara nods her head, thinking. "I have heard tales," she says, tasting each word carefully as if to check its veracity. "Some rare mages are able to bond with animals and create intelligent allies in them, some even extending their power through the animal."


    "But I¡¯m not a mage," I say to her.


    "This is also true," she responds. "But perhaps Misty doesn¡¯t think that important," she continues with a chuckle, reaching down to pet the ginger furball.


    "Right," I say with conviction. "Onwards to find the wicked witch of the West."


    "What?" Elara asks in total confusion.


    "Nothing," I laugh. "Just an old children¡¯s tale from back home."


    Still inwardly laughing, I muse about leaving a trail of breadcrumbs as we head deeper into the woods.


    It doesn¡¯t take long before, on the path ahead, we see a clearing with a neat cottage surrounded by a low fence. The whole area smells and looks incredible. The entire clearing is a plant paradise; some I recognise from collecting them myself. Most, I don¡¯t. There is a rich scent of sweet floral notes interspersed with more medicinal tones. The whole area is interwoven with a network of paths to allow access without needing to walk on the plants, in a way that seems both organised and chaotic. The result is a garden unlike any I have ever seen before¡ªa true taming of nature by a master of the art. The path we had followed through the woods continues straight to the gate in the fence. The cottage itself is neat, painted white with a thatched roof and smoke gently curling up from the chimney. To the front is a porch, and sitting on a chair there, a woman regards us with kind eyes.


    Misty runs up ahead, and before I know it, she is on the woman''s lap, kneading and pawing her way into a comfortable position before curling into a ball. Joyous tinkling laughter rises from the woman as she pets Misty. We reach the gate, and she beckons us to enter.


    "Good afternoon," I smile. "Vita, I assume?"


    She gives a small nod of her head in acknowledgement, still softly stroking the cat and murmuring to her. She looks to be a bit younger than me, dressed in simple clothes with mud stains on the knees of her trousers, and an apron with deep pockets, from which a few plant leaves poke out. Her light brown hair is fixed in a practical bun, and her eyes sparkle with a mix of mirth, kindness, and curiosity.


    "I am Del, a bit of a traveller, new to these parts, and this is Elara, my friend." I introduce us, indicating the purring mess of contentment on her lap. "You have already met Misty; she seems to have taken to you."


    She smiles up at us. "The bond you have with your cat already tells me much about you, young man."


    ¡®Young? Should get your eyes checked,¡¯ I think wryly.


    "Come, let''s get some tea, and you can tell me what brings you to my home." Misty jumps down as she starts to stand and darts into the house as soon as Vita has the door partially open. Vita just shakes her head, and, opening it up fully, precedes us into her house.


    The inside is comfortable and seems to comprise two main rooms with stairs leading up. We first walk into what is best described as a treatment room. There is a raised padded table suitable to lie a patient on and a couple of chairs by a table. The walls are lined with cupboards, and on one side is a table beside a stove on which sits what could only be a small cauldron alongside several small vials, flasks, and other devices. I assume these are for mixing various remedies. The room has a distinct medicinal aroma to it.


    Vita leads us through to a room beyond her workroom. This one is homely and comfortable, with armchairs and a small dining table. A range cooker is at one end alongside a sink and countertop. She gives a kettle a quick shake, adds some more water, and puts it on the stove. Bustling about as we make ourselves comfortable, it doesn¡¯t take her long before she joins us with cups, a teapot, and a milk jug.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident."Now," she says, "you are not my usual patients, so what brings you to my little piece of the woodlands?"


    We accept the cups she passes to us, and Misty laps at a saucer of milk.


    "We met Merl, the smith, back in Stonebridge and were talking with him about our travels through the woods, and he suggested we come see you."


    "Really," she sounds intrigued. "Now why did he suggest that?"


    "Up in the higher woods, I was attacked by some ruffians. I won, they lost." I shrug, sipping at the aromatic hot drink. "But they had already attacked and killed another man before I got there."


    I put down my cup and reach into my pouch for the pendant.


    "I described their victim to him and showed him this. It was the only thing that could possibly identify the man, and when I showed it to Merl, he suggested you might know it."


    "Why would he think that?" She holds out her hand. "May I?"


    I pass it to her, and she looks at it carefully, rubbing it gently between her fingers, then kisses it.


    "The man¡­ he would have been young," she says quietly. "A bit shorter than you, with mousey hair. He also had a mild limp, but you wouldn¡¯t have seen that. He was getting over a sprained ankle."


    She looks up at us, a small tear glistening in the corner of her eye.


    "His name was Lucas, and I gave him this pendant when I accepted him as my apprentice two years back." She holds out the pendant on her open hand. "These three circles are the symbol of a bonesetter, a person of healing and aid to those in need." She flips the pendant over. "The inscription is in Archan, it¡¯s the script we use to guard our secrets and recipes. It is his name."


    I lower my eyes at this revelation. "I¡¯m sorry to bring you this news," I say softly.


    "It is better to hear the truth than to wonder on the possibilities. He was out gathering plants that only grow at higher places and studying the seasons'' movement. I would not have realised he was missing for at least another month yet." She looks again at the pendant. "May I keep this?"


    I nod. "Of course, it is right that you do."


    The silence starts to become uncomfortable, Misty¡¯s unconcerned purrs the only sound as Vita contemplates the memories embodied in the small necklace. With a sigh, she puts it in one of her pockets and looks up, giving her eye a quick wipe.


    "Enough of that," she states. "I can relive memories and honour his loss at a later point. For now, is there anything else I can help you with?" She sighs. "I am not being the most gracious of hosts."


    "It¡¯s completely understandable," Elara says. "If you want time alone, we can always return another day."


    Vita takes a large, calming breath and sighs it out. "No, but thank you. It¡¯s not often we see one of your kind in this region, and I sense from you both, something is troubling you."


    "The villagers'' attitude towards elves does seem a bit off," I say. "But I get the feeling that there is more going on than just some racial dislike."


    "Stonebridge has always been insular," she answers. "Though perhaps more so of late. A long way back, in the early days of the village, we used to get raiding parties of elves." She stands and starts collecting up the empty cups, putting them by the sink as she continues. "They felt that the woods were theirs and had no place for humans. For almost a generation of turmoil and conflict, the skirmishes continued. Eventually, our elders managed to forge a peace accord as elves and humans mixed more within the more general Gondowan society. This happened long before the last heaving, but in village life, memory is long and often unbending." She gives a small sigh at the foolishness. "We have also, more recently, heard rumours that the old wizard of the mountain may still be alive, though none have really been able to say for certain. This could be good or ill. Without knowing more, it is hard to say."


    She looks thoughtfully at Elara. "There have also been stories of elves moving through the woods as if looking for something or someone. This could have stirred up the old fears and prejudices."


    I notice Elara seems to shift uncomfortably. "I hadn¡¯t heard that," she says.


    "Rumours come and go; some have meaning, others are just wind through the leaves," Vita states.


    "I do know that the people of Stonebridge seem to be worried about something. I don¡¯t know what, but just take care and keep your ears and eyes open while here. Maybe you will figure out what¡¯s going on, maybe nothing is happening at all, and I am just an old woman mumbling ghost stories over an open fire."


    "Hardly that," I chuckle. "But we will take care while here. If you can think of any way we might be of help, just let us know. We are staying with Jake at the Cock and Ball."


    "He is a good man, but do ask his wife to prepare your food. Jake is good with beer, not seasoning." She gives a small smile. "If you move on, then do call by as you leave. I shall prepare some salves and remedies for your journey. The road can be a harsh place."


    "That¡¯s very kind of you, Vita," Elara says.


    I give Misty a mental nudge. ¡®Time to leave.¡¯ She looks at me and gives a lazy stretch as she gets to her feet. ¡®Nice human, trust,¡¯ she says to me.


    Thanking Vita once again for her time and advice, I let her know she can call on us if needed while we are in the area.


    Her parting words as we stand again on her porch: "Go and see Paolo, the village elder. He may know what''s going on, if anything is."


    We wave as we head back through the carefully kept garden and back towards the village.

 Chapter 18 - A moment of calm

    The walk back was uneventful, at least as far as not encountering anything that wanted to kill us, eat us, or both. Misty roved ahead, often disappearing only to emerge again from an unexpected direction, sometimes even launching a mock attack by leaping onto our shoulders from a branch as we passed under. She was a minx and having fun, so when she did this, we would wrestle with her and give her a tickle before letting her leap away. I had a feeling that playful times might be hard to find, so it was good to let her enjoy these moments when she could.


    Elara and I talked about our meeting with Vita. We now had a name for the man I found slaughtered in the woods, and that made his death all the more real and tragic. It was a sobering thought, reinforcing how fragile life was in this world I had to negotiate my way through.


    "And what about the history with the elves?" I asked her. "Do you know any more about that?"


    "I know it was long ago. I have heard my grandparents discussing stories dating back to their childhood and beyond." She shrugs. "But the tales they told were from a different perspective. To them, the humans were the aggressors when elven folk first started to meet them and interact. Eventually, conflict led to temporary truces, then trade, then eventually, as now, elves and humans generally co-exist without issues." She indicates the village appearing ahead. "At least, I thought they did. Stonebridge seems to still have a problem, and I can¡¯t think why."


    "All we can do," I say, "is keep our heads down and see what comes to light. It may be more than a simple long-past history."


    Stonebridge, when we entered, was much as we had left it earlier. Laughing and yelling children played tag in the streets, while older youths appeared busy working at the various minor tasks upon which any settlement rests. Some adults still gave wary glances our way, but most just got on with working or gossiping together.


    "I want to go see Merl," I told Elara, and we headed towards the village smithy. As we got closer, the rhythmic ringing of hammer on metal sounded from inside. I rapped loudly on the wood of the doorpost, and he looked up and beckoned us inside. The smithy was neat and tidy. Tools lined one wall, and finished items another. Most were domestic or farming items¡ªeverything from hoes and shovels to door handles and a well-crafted iron gate. A few weapons were also hanging up; a sword and a few curved daggers stood out among the more common cooking knives on display. The floor was made of brick, as were the walls, and at the back a furnace burned hotly. Its coals glow an angry red as Merl pumps a bellows with one hand, while placing the item he was working on back in the fire.


    "The kids told me you headed out the south gate," he said, tipping his head to indicate a group of young children playing nearby. I hazarded a guess that they were the same ones we had seen when we first arrived at Stonebridge.


    "Yes, we went to see Vita, as you suggested," I replied. "She is a good woman."


    "That she is," Merl nodded in agreement. "Could she help you with that trinket you showed me?"


    "Yes," I answered somewhat solemnly. "You were right to send us her way. It belonged to Lucas, her apprentice."


    Merl put down his hammer, glanced at the heating metal, and took the cloth from his belt to wipe the sweaty drops from his face.


    "I thought it might be," he agreed. "That symbol on it is the one they use in their trade. It wasn¡¯t hers, so unless it was a complete stranger, it had to belong to Lucas."


    He sighed, pulled the bar from the forge, gave it a couple of disheartened taps, then plunged it into a water trough. Pulling out the cooled metal, he tossed it onto a small pile of scrap iron.


    "Let me wash up, then we can grab a beer at Jake¡¯s place. I need one," he stated grimly.


    Merl went to the large water-filled barrel outside, shrugged off his leather apron and shirt, and ducked his head fully under the water, emerging in a spray. Grabbing a cloth hanging on a nail beside it, he gave his face, hands, and chest a good scrub before rinsing off and shaking away the excess water. He disappeared into a door to the side of the building and came out a minute or two later in fresh clothes.


    "Okay, let''s go drink one for Lucas," he stated, marching off towards the centre of town and the Cock and Ball. The inn was not particularly busy, but on seeing the three of us enter, heads turned in curiosity. Jake stepped up, a questioning look in his eye.


    "Bit early to close the forge, Merl. Are you alright?" he asked with concern, giving Elara and me a brief nod as he went to his friend.


    "Bring me a pitcher of your strongest, Jake, and serve up to the others here as well." Still looking puzzled, with now a hint of concern, the innkeeper quickly obliged.


    Once he had a tankard in his hand, Merl raised it, all eyes in the place now firmly on him.


    "I learned today that one of ours met his end up in the high woods at the hands of some bandit group. Lucas, Vita¡¯s apprentice, was slain by some thugs while out and about." He paused and indicated us. "These two travellers came across the scene and, while they couldn¡¯t save poor Lucas, they ended his attackers and brought word back to Vita."


    He raised his mug higher. "To Lucas''s memory, drink and spread word." And took a deep swig of his ale, followed by everyone else in the place amid murmured repetitions of "To Lucas."


    As the place settled down to quiet but animated conversation, Merl indicated a table, and we all sat down. Jake joined us, placing a full jug of the rich brown ale on the table. After a minute of quiet introspection, Merl looked at us.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation."The lad deserved better than what he got."


    We all nodded. "What are your plans now, Del?" Jake asked. "You are welcome to stay, but things are a little tense around here just now." He looked to Elara. "And not just the old elf history thing."


    "Though that doesn¡¯t help," Merl adds.


    "The tension we¡¯ve both noticed," I agree. "What is it with that prejudice as well? That stuff happened centuries ago, from what I understand."


    Merl sighed and looked to Jake, who nodded.


    "A few months back," Jake began, "people started to disappear¡ªno word, no evidence of struggle. Rumours started, and one of them harked back to the old stories of elven slaver raids."


    Merl continued, "We here in Stonebridge are sitting at one of the closest points to the old routes those raids took. I don¡¯t know who started the elf rumours, but with the history of the area, it¡¯s kind of picked up."


    "With what we saw with Lucas, could it be bandit activity in the hills?" I asked.


    They both shrugged and looked at each other. "Possible," Jake agreed, "but a couple of the missing were working very close to Stonebridge; we should have heard something."


    "Also," Merl added, "Breeda is said to have disappeared from her very bed at night. That wouldn¡¯t be bandits."


    "How many have gone?" Elara asked.


    "Four, maybe five in the past month or two. Paolo could give you more details as he¡¯s running the search parties," Jake answers.


    "Six if you include poor Lucas," said Merl.


    "Well, we plan on seeing Paolo anyway; Vita suggested we see him as well." I took another sip. "We¡¯ll go look him up tomorrow. If he hasn¡¯t heard by then, we¡¯ll let him know about Lucas."


    The conversation shifted to more general subjects, with Merl telling us more about life in Stonebridge. He had arrived here as a journeyman smith and enjoyed the pace of life after the more rushed city where he trained, and the rigours of the road. At the time he had arrived, the place had been without a smith for over a year since the old master had passed, so the town elder of the day, Paolo¡¯s father, had invited him to set up in the old disused forge. He had been here ever since.


    "Been here almost 20 years now," he stated. "Steady work with little fuss and stress, just the way I like it."


    Elara told stories of growing up in her Hometree and of her decision to travel to find a master to train under, which led into a dramatic retelling of her capture by goblins and rescue by me.


    Jake, who had gone back to serving customers at the bar, was obviously still listening in, as he let out a low whistle at that.


    "Those green vermin are a plague on civilised folk," he said with ire. "Normally don¡¯t find them so far down from the mountain passes though."


    "It was just a small group though," I say. "Maybe just a hunting party that travelled further than normal?"


    "Still not good though," Merl commented. "We¡¯ll need to send word up the river to the lumber camp so the boys know to keep an eye out."


    My eyes flicked to Elara; this was not a subject we wanted to dwell on.


    At another question from Merl, I told my own story of coming from my island home on Starnd. I explained that I knew very little of life on the mainland, with our island being so insular and self-contained.


    "I think I am the first one of my small community to travel to Gondowa in a long time," I tell him. "It¡¯s been very educational so far," I add with a smile.


    A homely woman appeared through the door to the back. She was comfortably built, with rosy cheeks and dark red hair tied up in a tight bun. She wore a neatly tied apron and carried a large ladle in her hand.


    Merl nodded her way. "Looks like Donna has finished dinner."


    As soon as he saw her come in, Jake hurried over and gave her a peck on the cheek, before going out back and quickly returning laden with platters steaming with hearty meat stew and bread.


    Placing bowls before the three of us, we started to tuck into the food.


    ¡®The stories we heard are true then,¡¯ I think as I savour the rich, delicious meat and vegetables. I feel a rubbing at my legs and the mental nudge of Misty. ¡®I guess you want yours too then?¡¯ I ask her. Getting a happy mental assent, I call Jake over.


    "Can I get a small bowl for my little terror, please, Jake?" I indicate the purring ball of fluff by my legs. Jake laughs and reaches down to give her a little pet.


    "Of course we can do that. And where did you come from?" he asks her with an ear scratch. "We didn¡¯t see you earlier."


    "She always manages to magically appear when it¡¯s food time," I laugh.


    Jake heads off and quickly reappears with two bowls, one with a heaping pile of meat from the stew and the other with water. Misty gives an appreciative mew and tucks into her repast.


    After dinner, and with a satisfied belch, Merl stands and heads off back to his place, while Elara and I go to offer thanks to Jake before heading up to our room.


    The room is pleasantly warm with a cosy feel. A chest of drawers stands against one wall, with a large copper bath on the other and a chamber pot beside it. The large bed is made up with fresh sheets and looks comfortable enough, but it¡¯s only one.


    I cough. "Perhaps I should get another room," I say, looking at the bed.


    "What?" Elara asks, puzzled. "We have shared the same sleep space since you rescued me¡ªhow is this different?" She shrugs off her clothes and climbs into the bed. "Besides, this is warmer and more comfortable than a leaf pile in a damp cave."


    I shrug. ¡®Can¡¯t argue with logic,¡¯ I think and strip down to my boxers, climbing in beside her.


    ¡®Just go to sleep, Del,¡¯ I admonish myself. ¡®What does it matter if there is a beautiful naked woman sharing the bed with you?¡¯


    "Del," she says quietly. "Thank you for rescuing me." She snuggles down deeper under the covers, and I soon hear her gentle snores. With a thump, a weight lands on the bed beside me, and after kneading my side for a minute or two, Misty snuggles in on my other side.


    With a contented sigh, I settle in for the first decent night¡¯s sleep since this whole drama began.

 Chapter 19 - A puzzling quest

    I woke early, too hot, in a tangle of legs and a face full of ginger furbag. I smacked my lips and peeled my tongue from the roof of my mouth.


    ¡®I miss toothpaste,¡¯ I consider pithily. The simple pleasure of a fresh minty mouth. ¡®It¡¯s the simple things that matter the most.¡¯


    Gently, I extricate myself from the tangle of body, sheet, and cat enough to get up and pour a glass of water from the jug on the chest of drawers. Then, to preserve what hints of dignity I have, I shrug on my trousers and head out of the room and along the corridor to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I head back, roughly towelling dry my hair. Elara is sitting up in bed, playing softly with a purring Misty. The smells of cooking breakfast drifting up from downstairs follow me into the room.


    "Good morning," I grunt as I grab my shirt and pull it over my head, doing my best not to enjoy too much the display Elara¡¯s naked breasts provide as she tussles with the cat.


    ¡®So shoot me for being human,¡¯ I grouse to myself. ¡®Del, you are too old for this shit.¡¯


    "I¡¯m going to see what¡¯s for breakfast," I say. "Do you want to join me once you¡¯re finished playing?"


    She gives me a nod and starts to pull her hand free from Misty¡¯s playful claws as I head down to the bar.


    Donna is busy bustling about, serving the few customers who stayed overnight, and she looks up at me with a smile, indicating a vacant table.


    "Breakfast for just you, or are there another one and a bit joining?" she asks with a smile.


    "The other two will be down shortly," I agree. "And whatever you have on the stove smells divine."


    Soon, Elara and I are tucking into hot, steaming bacon and eggs, while Misty tackles her own large slab of fatty meat.


    We discuss our plans between mouthfuls and agree that the first stop will be to find supplies. Then, once better equipped and dressed¡ªconsidering our presently less-than-suitable attire¡ªwe¡¯ll head to the elder¡¯s house and see what Paolo has to say about Lucas, goblins, and wizards.


    At the market, we first head towards a stall selling a mix of rough-spun clothing. My own gear is much the worse for wear, and I quickly select some new heavy-duty trousers, shirts, and basic undergarments. Being very aware that Elara only had on the long shirt she had borrowed from me when we first met, we also add enough items for her to be decently attired again. I think she is most happy about finding a pair of decent leather boots so she is no longer barefoot. I am very pleased to discover that costs in this rural market are not high, and our supply of copper and silver is more than adequate for the task at hand.


    We also find a stall that sells hunting gear, so we are able to buy a second bow and a quiver of 20 arrows. Elara keeps hold of the smaller goblin bow, and I take the larger one for myself. At the leatherworker¡¯s, we pick up a toughened hide jerkin for Elara, and I leave them the one I had acquired from the bandits to repair. We also sell them various items we don¡¯t need from the looted corpses of those who had tried to prey on us.


    I feel a momentary pang of guilt at the thought of their deaths but quickly shove it aside with a pragmatic shrug. If it hadn¡¯t been that way, they would be somewhere selling my meagre belongings instead. We spot Jake loading a cart with meat from the butcher¡¯s and give him a wave. It looks like some sort of strange not-deer is on the menu tonight.


    ¡®You really need to learn more of the local plant and animal life around here,¡¯ I admonish myself, and determine to start using Elara¡¯s knowledge base to broaden my own.


    We head back to the inn and quickly change into fresh clothes. It feels so much better than the old blood-stained and dirty things we had been wearing. Back downstairs, I ask Donna if they¡¯re recoverable or just better on the trash heap. With a laugh, she promises to see them right and have them back in our room before supper. With that, we head across the town square, where behind the market stands the imposing building that is the house of the town elder.


    The house is large but inside, not overly ostentatious¡ªmore a practical amalgam of offices and meeting rooms below and living space on the floors above. The door is open, and in the reception room is a collection of functionaries working at their desks. One of them looks up with a smile and asks if she can help us. I explain to her that we are here to see Paolo, and she nods and heads into another room, asking us to wait a moment.


    Paolo is a portly man of about my age, with neatly cropped hair, mutton chops, and a gold chain hanging over his neat shirt, which contrasts nicely with business-like rolled-up sleeves and ink stains on his fingers. He gives off an air of a man who balances authority with practicality, someone who is equally comfortable working behind a desk or getting out and about to directly manage the affairs of Stonebridge. He comes forward with a smile, offering his hand, which I take and shake firmly.


    "Welcome to Stonebridge. It¡¯s always nice to meet new visitors." He raises a questioning eyebrow. "Or are you planning on moving to join our small community?"


    "Not moving in¡ªwell, not at the moment anyway," I answer him. "But we do have some things we need to discuss with you."


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.His brow furrows a bit and then clears. "Are you the couple that brought the tragic news about Lucas?" At our nods, he ushers us back and into his office. He indicates a group of comfortable chairs, and we sit down.


    "Yes, that was us," I answer. "I came across him when some bandits attacked me in the high woods. After I successfully defended myself, I saw they already had one victim." I sigh. "He was dead when I found him."


    "You brought us word, and that was still good of you. Bandits and robbers have been getting more numerous lately here," Paolo tells me. "The towns around Stenfield have boosted their local watch, and so those that haven¡¯t been rounded up have made their way into the more rural areas."


    "Merl was telling us that there have been more local issues?" I say questioningly.


    "Times are indeed troubling," Paolo agrees. "People disappearing seemingly at random. The whole village is on edge at the moment."


    "Do you have any ideas who or what is behind it?" Elara asks.


    He shakes his head sadly. "I wish I did. There are rumours and theories, but no real truth to it that we can figure."


    Paolo stands and starts pacing as he continues. "So far, four have simply vanished in a little over a month. I don¡¯t include Lucas, as I believe him to be an unfortunate but unconnected loss." He becomes more animated, and agitation creeps into his voice. "Three were men out working, late dusk. Shawn was out tending his cows, Will was gathering logs for his fire, and Silas was doing his usual forage for tindergrubs. All had been seen by others out in the fields or woods, but then never returned home for their dinner. Then Breeda never turned up to open her market stall last week. As that was most unlike her, one of the kids went to see if she was ill." Paolo stops to gather his thoughts. "Her back door was open, but the house was empty." He flops down in his chair; it''s easy to see the toll these events are placing upon him.


    "So what are the rumours and ideas floating around?" I ask him.


    He lifts his hands, palms up, helpless in uncertainty. "The usual bunch¡ªelves," he glances apologetically at Elara, "witches, various fell beasts. But nothing substantial that can stand up to scrutiny or that has left any sign of its coming and going."


    He massages his temples gently, his eyes pained.


    "Elves as a threat are just an old memory of times long past, but unfortunately still exist in stories to frighten young children into behaving. We haven¡¯t had any witches north of the capital since the last heaving, and even then, they have never been the harridans of evil laced throughout folklore. Most are more like simple herbalists and hedge mages, little different from a bonesetter. To be honest, wizards are far more likely to have unpredictable and possibly ill motives as they try to figure out how the world really works."


    "What about lesser sentients and wild beasts?" Elara inquired.


    "No tracks have been found," Paolo explains. "Some sentients, such as the more intelligent goblins and hobs, might think to erase tracks, but there would still be something to see. Evidence of struggles from those taken in the outfields would be hard to mask. None of them were weak men, and what of Breeda? Her house, apart from being empty, was undisturbed." His troubled look is very evident. "I will be completely honest, I am at a total loss so far."


    I shake my head. ¡®Where is Sherlock when you need him, Del,¡¯ I think, perplexed. "I¡¯m not sure how long we will be around the village, as we are mainly resting before continuing on to the city of Stenfield. But I¡¯m sure we can keep our eyes open while we are here if you want."


    "It''s too much to ask, but maybe a fresh pair of eyes might see what we cannot."


    [You have been offered a quest ¨C Solve the mystery of Stonebridge: Accept Yes : No]


    I look at Paolo through the translucent message in front of me and then at Elara; she gives me a nod, and I choose yes.


    "As Del said, we may not be here long, as I have to get to the city to find a mage trainer, but"¡ªshe looks at the elder with determination¡ª "while here, we can keep a look out and let you know if we find out anything." She smiles. "At the very least, we might be able to ease some fear of my kind among your villagers."


    Conversation seems to relax with our decision to help the beleaguered man. We tell him of our journey here, leaving out certain chapters upriver that may not paint us in the best of lights but still giving him a broad idea of how things are in the high woods, according to what we saw. He acknowledges the goblin activity as a potential problem this early in the season, but he also slaps his thigh in joy at the vivid retelling Elara and I give of her rescue from captivity.


    I tell him of my life on the Isle of Starnd. He admits it is not an island he is familiar with. "But there are a lot of small communities isolated in the seas off Gondowa," he says.


    Elara explains her goal to find a trainer in nature magic and her journey thus far, until her capture by the goblins.After the stress of telling us about the disappearances, Paolo¡¯s mood seems to ease at the thought of us providing what help we might manage from a fresh perspective, and in the end, we part with a handshake and a smile.


    "I expect we may be here a touch longer than we first thought," I say to Elara somewhat ruefully. "I¡¯m sorry to be delaying your own journey and will understand if you want to push on ahead."


    She just gives me a playful shove and threads her arm through mine.


    "Don¡¯t think you are getting rid of me that easily," she laughs. "Besides, this could be an interesting problem to solve."

 Chapter 20 - Sleuthing for amateurs

    Once outside, we chatted quietly as we walked, mulling over the conversation and the mystery Stonebridge posed. For the three men working, the possibility of wild animals couldn¡¯t be immediately discounted, even if the evidence at the scene apparently disputed this. The biggest mystery was Breeda, so we decided to go and have a look at her house first. Paolo had given us directions to her house, along with tokens of authority used by anyone in the village working on village business. He didn¡¯t think we would need them, but they should smooth things if we were challenged as we carried out our investigations for him.


    Her house was a small cottage, similar to others we saw around Stonebridge. Built of a mix of wood and plastered stone with a thatched roof on top. We opened the door and let ourselves in. The air had the musty smell of an empty and unused space, with furniture starting to gather the first traces of dust. Breeda¡¯s former home was comfortably furnished, with the feel of a place that was once well-loved. A spinning wheel and small loom were the main features of the room, with a piece of half-completed cloth lying forlornly unfinished on the frame. The kitchen was similarly undisturbed, neatly kept and cared for, although food in the pantry was definitely past its point of no return. A small mouse scurried out through a barely visible hole in the outer wall as we looked in.


    Not finding anything amiss downstairs, we headed up to what were two small bedrooms and a washroom. One room was clearly an unused guest room, the other, the scene of Breeda¡¯s disappearance. The bed itself was old but functional, the straw mattress fat and comfortable-looking. Her bed was in disarray, with covers thrown half off, though it was hard to say if that was due to a struggle or just from getting up and not remaking the bed. There was a peculiar smell in the air that I couldn¡¯t place, and Elara noticed one of the window panes was broken, small pieces of glass scattered on the floor below it. At her call, I got up from where I had been trying to inspect under the bed to see if I could find anything.


    "Okay," I said, "whatever or whoever spirited Breeda away seems to have come in through the window."


    "Have you noticed that smell?" she asked me.


    I nodded. "But I can¡¯t place it."


    "It¡¯s Listwort," Elara informed me. "In mild doses, it can help you relax, but in high doses, it will put you into a deep sleep for many hours."


    "So we know how it was done, just no idea on the who," I say with a frown. I took a close look at the window. It had been pulled back closed, but it was obviously the point of entry, the broken pane right next to the window latch. Snagged on a small shard of glass were a few dark fibres, so it was probable that the kidnapper wore dark clothing¡ªa reasonable assumption to avoid detection at night.


    ¡®I am no detective,¡¯ I berate myself. ¡®And where are forensics when you need them?¡¯  It¡¯s frustrating, but I can only do my best, and maybe something will come up as we continue looking into things.


    We left the house, but what little we had been able to discover only served to deepen the mystery. At least we had one clue: we knew that a drug had likely been used to subdue her, although it was also possible that she used the herb herself to aid her restful sleep. Unfortunately, there was no chance of detecting the same aroma at the work sites where the other three had gone missing. All traces would have long since blown away and dispersed.


    We still scoured the areas they had been working in. As Paolo had told us, there was no obvious sign of a struggle and none of the disturbance that would have been left from an animal attack. At one site, we did find more of the black fibres caught on a thorn bush. So the chance that it was the same person increased with this direct connection to Breeda¡¯s house. Misty appeared as we were examining the second location and nudged my mind to ask what we were doing. I did my best to explain, and she seemed disinterested as she meandered back into the undergrowth. Elara and I looked at each other in frustration after finishing our check of the final place.


    "This is going to be harder than I first thought," I admit to her. Misty reappeared and dropped a small cloth-wrapped bundle at my feet, giving me a small mew before starting to fastidiously clean her face with an air of total disinterest. I picked it up and opened it carefully; the smell became apparent immediately.


    Listwort.


    "Let''s go see Vita next," I suggest. "Find out where this plant may be obtained around here." Elara gives a nod, and we head back to the path leading to her house outside the village. Once there, we find the place empty and the door firmly secured, so we decide to try again later if we can¡¯t find the information in Stonebridge itself. Heading back, we decide to call it a day as it¡¯s getting towards dusk. We can continue tomorrow, and in the meantime, a hearty supper awaits us.


    Back in the Cock and Ball, we settle into an evening of good food and companionable conversation. Jake has heard of Listwort, though he doesn¡¯t use it himself; he knows a few villagers have it for when they have trouble sleeping.


    "Vita keeps a stock, though it''s not cheap, and as far as I know, it doesn¡¯t grow locally," he tells me.


    ¡®She is definitely our next point of call,¡¯ I muse.


    "Have there been any other odd things going on around here apart from the missing people?" I ask him.


    He thinks for a bit. "Old Liam lost a cow the other week, and the dogs seem a bit jittery." He rubs his chin.


    "Apart from that, and the dogs could just be picking up on the general air in the village, with the missing folks on everybody¡¯s minds." He shakes his head. "Nothing I can think of."


    After a hearty meal¡ª¡®venison?¡¯ I think with a smile, remembering seeing Jake earlier in the market¡ªand a few mugs of his excellent ale, we head back upstairs for a night¡¯s rest.


    The next morning, we are soon heading back out. Elara decides to talk to people in the town while I go back to Vita¡¯s. As we pass through the market square, where we will make our separate ways, a harried Paolo waves us over.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there."Another one," he declares as we approach. "Last night, another went missing."


    We stop, taking in his dishevelled state. He looks as though he has been dragged from bed and into the thick of things without even a chance to comb his hair. He is flustered, and justly so, with yet more bad news hitting the people he is responsible for.


    "This morning," he tells us, "I went downstairs, and there was nothing prepared as it normally is. I went to Emily¡¯s room¡ªshe¡¯s my maid," he clarifies. "She was gone, not a trace of her."


    He beckons us urgently to follow him back to his home in the elder''s residence. Passing quickly through the front office, we are soon in the private quarters. A dining room leads onto a kitchen where the stove is cold and untouched, the counters empty of any breakfast preparations. Behind that is Emily¡¯s room. She keeps house for Paolo, generally cooking and keeping his residence tidy. The room is dishevelled, with bedclothes in an untidy pile on the floor. The window into the backyard is pushed closed but not latched, and there is no broken glass, so it¡¯s easy to assume she slept with the window slightly open. The smell of Listwort is very obvious. We have a good look around, but there really is nothing else to be found apart from the fact that she has obviously joined the ranks of the missing.


    "Can we go and see the area outside this window?" I ask.


    Nodding, Paolo quickly takes us into the backyard. The area is surrounded by a well-built wall, around six feet tall, with a gate in the far corner. On checking it, the gate is fastened shut with a heavy padlock. An almost-dry puddle under the window holds the drying remains of a footprint. It¡¯s large, possibly a boot, but very generic in its look¡ªthere isn¡¯t even a visible tread to give a clue. Some crates piled against a wall, presumably from a supplies delivery, could have been used to climb the wall, but with an unconscious body to carry, it would either be very difficult or require a high degree of strength.


    ¡®Maybe more than one person is carrying out the kidnappings?¡¯ I wonder.


    "And you heard nothing during the night?" I ask Paolo.


    "No," he replies. "But I slept heavily as I used a draft to aid my rest. I have been having difficulty sleeping since all this started."


    "Listwort?" I ask, and get a nod in answer.


    "How many people in Stonebridge use Listwort?" asks Elara. "Considering it¡¯s not common in the area, there seems to be an awful lot of it about."


    ¡®Good spot, girl,¡¯ I think, realising that a good knowledge of what is and isn¡¯t normal in Gondowa is something I¡¯m severely lacking.


    "I¡­ I couldn¡¯t really say," stammers Paolo, still obviously reeling from the disappearance of Emily. "A travelling healer came by a couple of months back, one of the suppliers who brings more obscure items to Vita, and he also sold some bits to some of the market traders for home remedies."


    "Did you know the man? Was he one of her regular traders?" I ask.


    The elder thinks for a while, then shakes his head. "I can¡¯t say that I did, but then not all of them come by the village; some just stay with her while they are here."


    "Can you describe the medicine guy?" Elara asks him.


    "Not really. I barely spoke to him. Maybe six foot or so, dark hair, beard, dressed in leathers with a black cloak¡ªthat¡¯s all I can recall." He shakes his head in frustration, his eyes still roving around the empty backyard. "Maybe Vita or one of the stall holders would be able to do better."


    ¡®Right, so mystery man is number one on the suspect list,¡¯ I consider thoughtfully. ¡®Not exactly a work of genius there, Del. What are you missing?¡¯


    "Right," I brush my hands together. "We can¡¯t do anything else here. I suggest you make sure everyone knows to be extra careful at night, stay together, and don¡¯t be alone even during the evening. We will be back later, but for now, we need to go talk to more people."


    We head back out to the square and cross to the small market area, which is bustling with morning trading. It¡¯s easy to find the stall selling Listwort as its distinctive aroma is obvious once you know to look for it. The stall sells a variety of home remedies along with other basic household essentials like soap and¡ª¡®TOOTHPASTE,¡¯ my brain almost screams at me as I spot the pot of white minty paste. I grab two pots along with an odd stick with a carefully frayed end used to clean teeth, my mouth almost salivating at the thought of being clean and fresh again. Unfortunately, despite being the supplier of both toothpaste and Listwort, the lady stallholder can tell us little of the man she bought the supplies from; her description is, if anything, even vaguer than Paolo¡¯s.


    As we leave the market, I look at Elara. "Do you still want to split up?" I ask.


    She nods. "We can maybe find out more if I ask around here while you go talk with Vita."


    After agreeing to meet at the inn for lunch, we head off on our separate ways.


    It doesn¡¯t take me long to leave the village and head up the narrow track to Vita''s home. On the way, I am joined by Misty, who struts happily along beside my legs.


    ¡®Strange,¡¯ I think as we round the last bend to see the cottage ahead. ¡®No smoke from the chimney and it looks¡­¡¯ I ponder, ¡®empty.¡¯


    "What do you think, girl?" I ask the cat. She gives me a look, then bounds away. I check the door. Locked. "Vita?" I call, giving it a loud knock. "Are you there?" No answer. I feel Misty¡¯s nudge. ¡®Come.¡¯ So I head around the cottage to the back to see Misty standing on the kitchen window ledge. The window is wide open. I peer inside but can see nothing in the dim interior. I call out to her again with the same negative result. With a sigh, I heave myself up, squeeze through the small window, and land in an undignified heap on her kitchen floor. Misty joins me in a much more elegant fashion, and we begin to look through the house.


    It is quickly apparent that she isn¡¯t home and possibly hasn¡¯t been since we last saw her. The place itself is orderly and as it was back then. Upstairs were the areas we didn¡¯t see on our earlier visit¡ªthe small alchemy room in the attic was well kept, everything in its place, workspace was clean and tidy. The bedroom was another matter. It was a mess, bedclothes thrown on the floor, a single slipper kicked half under the bed and a pungent smell of Listwort heavy in the air. She was gone, and almost certainly another victim of the disappearances.


    Misty gave a little sorrowful mewl.


    ¡°I agree girl,¡± I said. ¡°We need to get back to Stonebridge.¡±

 Chapter 21 – Hide and seek

    Elara watched Del walk off with a small pang of misgiving in her gut and also a rising curiosity, ready to explore this village in her own way. A part of her was concerned, that with the feelings seen in some about her race, she might be met with more open hostility without Del¡¯s presence, but she also wanted to prove her own worth to this investigation. First stop, she thought. The market. If this place was anything like the markets in her own Hometree then it would be a hub of information, gossip, and rumour.


    As she had thought, the market was indeed buzzing about the latest news. Emily was a well-liked member of the community and living and working in the elder''s house just behind the stalls, her absence was deeply felt. At first, being on her own, Elara was treated with a mix of interest and caution. Elves were very rare in this rural part of the land as most trade between them and the humans went along the main routes that skirted the mountains between. In fact, as far as any of the villagers here knew, she was the first to travel the pass across to the high hills and down to Stonebridge. Because of this Elara was not surprised to find herself the subject of much subtle and at times quite overt questioning.


    ¡®I guess it''s only fair, we arrived at a rather troubled time and their history with my kind is not entirely wholesome¡¯ she considers as she talks.


    As she moves from stall to stall, taking in the smells of freshly baked bread, steaming meat pies and sweet citrusy fruits; she admires the neatly cut linens and well-crafted tools that filled many stalls. Examining goods and the occasional purchase of a sweetmeat to nibble on was a great way to initiate conversation. Often begun by the holder¡¯s casual questioning of where she hailed from and if she found the village to her liking. One or two, though courteous as any trader to a potential customer, could not hide the mistrust in their eyes or the way money boxes were carefully closed as she approached. Inwardly it hurt, as she knew she had done nothing to garner such a view, she accepted that there were always going to be those who found it hard to accept those who were different in their limited view of the world.


    Ultimately although many had opinions, everything ranging from a rogue witch or warlock in the area to bears or wolves raiding the village; even one suggested that Paolo may not be as innocent as he seems, though everyone else appeared to hold him in high esteem. Unfortunately, many of the rumours could be completely discounted. There was no evidence to support wild animals and it was more likely to be human or other sentient entities responsible. Perhaps hiding in plain sight as just another villager going about their life. Paolo was the least likely suspect. His obvious distress that morning would have been hard to fake in her opinion. Besides, she had always had a good way with judging people''s character. He felt like a good man in the way that Del also felt to have a good heart though he did at times seem as na?ve as a newborn in his strange lack of knowledge about the wider world. She smiled inwardly at the thought of Del and hoped he was able to get some answers from Vita. One thing that she was able to find in her meander through the market, was the prevalence in use of Listwort around the town. If it wasn¡¯t for the fact that she knew it had no addictive properties, she could well have been more concerned than just curious at this.


    Unable to gather any more real clues in the market she eventually moved on, visiting workshops and talking with some of the older kids running errands around the place. The carpenter''s workshop had the heady scent of fresh-cut timber and fine sawdust floated as sparkling motes in the air. As she chatted with Joe, the village joiner, she discovered that Will, one of the missing, was his nephew. Apparently, he had finished his work for the day as a baker''s hand and was left to go gather some wood for the hearth. Will had spent three days out looking for him with not even a scuff of dirt to give a sign of what happened. All he found was his billeting axe lying on the ground.


    ¡°It¡¯s lucky he had no wife nor sprouts yet,¡± Joe said sadly. ¡°None left to struggle to find means with him gone.¡±


    As she talked to more and more people around the town, Elara noticed this strange coincidence, or maybe not so much, as all of those who had vanished were single with no dependents. Was the person responsible, targeting this type of villager only or was it just happenstance?


    Unable to gain any further information, just more and often wilder rumours, Elara moved on around the village.


    ¡°Quick, hide.¡± She hears loudly whispered from up ahead. Looking she quickly picks out half a dozen or so young children scattering with muffled giggles into the bushes up ahead. One has his eyes tight shut with his small hands covering them, he starts counting loudly and then, with a cry of ¡°Dix¡±, and a few muffled squeals from hidden youngsters, he uncovers his eyes and looks about.


    Elara is transported back in her mind to her own carefree days what seems like so long ago. When pressures of her own responsibilities didn¡¯t weigh her down and make her do the unthinkable.


    ¡®Was running from it the real answer or just delaying the inevitable¡¯ she thought with a frown. Still that was a problem for another day, hopefully one that was far in her future.


    The boy had found most of his giggling friends with only the one lying on a shed roof yet to be discovered. As Elara approached she was soon surrounded by the boisterous bunch, all of them clamouring with excited questions and comments.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.¡°You came in the other day.¡±


    ¡°You have pretty eyes.¡±


    ¡°Can I play with your bow?¡±


    ¡°Why are your ears pointy?¡±


    ¡°Do you know the night man?¡±


    That last made her stop short in her attempts to answer the multifarious eager questions. She looked at the little girl who asked it, and crouched down to get on an better level with her. When she did, she could see that the girl was about 7, maybe 8 with rich auburn hair braided into two plaits, deep green eyes and a little button nose.


    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to her,¡± one of the boys says. ¡°She makes up stories.¡±


    Ignoring the others, much to their disappointment Elara gives the girl a warm smile.


    ¡°Hello,¡± She says gently. ¡°I¡¯m Elara, what''s your name?¡±


    The girl scuffs her shoe nervously on the ground. ¡°Naomi¡± she answers quietly.


    ¡°Well Naomi, why don¡¯t you and I have a little talk about the night man.¡± She pulls out a small bag of sweet treats from the market and offers one to Naomi before passing the bag to the other children to share.


    The child considers Elara carefully as she chews on her sweet, a small dribble of saliva escaping to run down her chin.


    ¡°You have pretty eyes.¡± She says.


    ¡°Thank you, Naomi, so do you,¡± Elara smiles encouragingly. ¡°So who is this night man. Have you seen him?¡±


    The girl gives a little nervous nod, her eyes flitting towards her busily chomping friends, who, bored with the conversation are beginning to drift off.


    Elara steps to a low wall and sits, patting the wall to invite Naomi to join her, which, with a look at her departing friends, she does.


    ¡°I guess they don¡¯t know the night man do they?¡± Elara asks. ¡°I don¡¯t either, but I think I might be looking for him.¡± Sneaking out another sweet she passes it to the girl once she was sure the rest were out of sight. After all, she did want some left to enjoy herself later on.


    ¡°I saw him,¡± She answered, tucking the sweet into her mouth. ¡°I really did, though they don¡¯t believe me. They didn¡¯t believe me when I said a fox was coming to steal the chickens neither. But it still came.¡± She stated indignantly. ¡°They just say I make up stories.¡±


    She stood up and glared at Elara daring her to disagree with her.


    ¡°I don¡¯t make things up. I see them and when I wake up, I remember.¡± With a cute stamp of her little foot, she plops back down on the wall.


    Elara ponders her words for a moment.


    Cautiously she asks. ¡°You see them when you sleep? Like in a dream?¡±


    The girl gives a little nod, looking embarrassed to admit such a thing.


    ¡°Yes.¡± She quietly admits. ¡°That¡¯s why they don¡¯t believe me, says I am just making things up.¡±


    ¡°I believe you,¡± Elara says. The beaming smile from Naomi could have lit up the night sky.


    ¡°Ok Naomi, I¡¯ll tell you what we need to do,¡± Elara stands and offers her hand to the small girl. ¡°Let¡¯s you and me go talk to someone who will also believe you. Would you like that?¡±


    With a little nod the girl jumps from the wall and takes a firm grip on Elara¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± She asks. ¡°Only I can¡¯t go far and I¡¯m not allowed out of the village gates yet.¡±


    ¡°No, not far Naomi,¡± replies Elara. ¡°We are going to go have a talk with Paolo.¡±


    Naomi¡¯s mouth opens in a big ¡®Oh¡¯ and she grips Elara¡¯s hand even tighter.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Elara says with a musical little laugh. ¡°He is a friend of mine.¡±


    Passing through the market they get a few idle stares and she can see people clearly wondering but too polite to ask. But as it''s obvious that Naomi is happily trotting along and not upset, she gets no direct confrontation as they pass through. Several yards back she can sense the other children from the group are following on watching with interest.


    Once through the gates, leaving the onlookers in their wake, she enters the elders residence and passes through the quiet front office, and to the open door of the room beyond where she can see Paolo sat at his desk, head in his hands.


    ¡°Are you busy?¡± She asks as he looks up.


    Paolo just shrugs his shoulders, his face distressed and looks around.


    ¡°I can¡¯t seem to get my mind on things today. Emily¡­¡± He trails off sadly.


    Elara nods in understanding. She sits and motions for the girl to join her, who nervously climbs on her lap and semi-hides herself in Elara¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°This is Naomi, you probably know her, but she has something very interesting to tell us.¡± Elara introduces.


    ¡°Yes I know her, one of the Cooper children aren¡¯t you?¡± He asks, to which she shyly nods.


    ¡°I think Naomi is a Dreamwalker,¡± explains Elara and seeing the confused look on Paolo¡¯s face goes on to explain. ¡°A Dreamwalker is someone gifted with the ability to walk the astral, the space between waking and sleeping, life and death. It¡¯s a rare talent but it comes out in young childhood. If encouraged and not suppressed, Dreamwalkers can become powerful seers and scryers as they grow up. If they are ridiculed or shunned the gift often departs into the ether and never develops, being left behind as childhood ends.¡±


    Paolo looks a mix of incredulous and sceptical. ¡°You believe Naomi to have this gift?¡±


    ¡°Yes, she has seen things and remembers them when she wakes. As often the case, these visions are generally mocked as made up, but she saw foxes before they raided the chicken coops and I am sure she has seen other things as well that have been equally dismissed a sidle childish chatter.¡± Naomi nods at that.


    Elara could see she had Paolo¡¯s full attention now.


    ¡°And, what is more, she has seen the Night Man.¡±


    Paolo almost stands from his chair, his hands pressed hard into the desk. As he takes a breath to speak, they hear running footsteps approaching the building.


    Out of breath and looking totally stressed, Dell bursts into the room.


    ¡°Vita¡¯s gone,¡± he pants. ¡°She¡¯s been taken.¡±

 Chapter 22 - Nap time

    The shock on Elara and Paolo¡¯s faces almost matches the scared, confused look on Naomi¡¯s.¡°Taken?¡± Paolo asks. ¡°What makes you say that? She often goes into the woods to gather plants for her medicines.¡±¡°No,¡± I respond, catching my breath. ¡°Her bedroom was a mess, and the smell of Listwort was overpowering. She¡¯s been taken, just like the others.¡±


    Paolo puts his head in his hands, while Elara looks on with a stunned expression.


    ¡°I like Vita,¡± says a quiet voice. ¡°She made my brother''s bad leg better.¡±


    I look at the young girl for the first time, realising that my earlier focus had been entirely on the adults in the room¡ªI¡¯d hardly noticed her.


    ¡°Hello¡­¡± I look to Elara.


    ¡°Naomi,¡± she informs me.


    ¡°So, Naomi, I agree. Vita is a nice lady.¡±


    ¡°I believe Naomi to be a Dreamwalker,¡± Elara tells me. ¡°So, we came to talk to Paolo about it.¡±


    ¡®Dreamwalker, what the hell is a dreamwalker?¡¯


    Paolo looks up from his hands at the mention of his name and nods.


    ¡®He looks totally wiped out.¡¯ I shake my head in empathy. ¡®Can¡¯t say I blame him, poor man. One thing after another¡¯


    ¡°In fact, it may be¡ªif we¡¯re lucky,¡± she crosses her fingers, glancing at the girl, ¡°Naomi might be able to help us figure things out a bit.¡±


    At that, the young girl looks first puzzled, then a bit scared. I can see it in her eyes¡ªthe thought of what could she possibly do to find Vita is very clearly obvious on her face.


    ¡°Me?¡± she asks in a little voice tinged with anxiety. ¡°But I¡¯m not allowed outside the village gates.¡±


    I watch as Elara takes her hand gently and looks into her eyes, her whole manner calming and tender.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Naomi, you won¡¯t have to go anywhere.¡± She waves her hand to indicate the room. ¡°You can look for them from right here. Shall I try and show you how?¡±


    Naomi nods slowly.


    ¡°Some of us elves can do magic.¡± She begins as Paolo and I watch on quietly.


    ¡°I can do some small magics. Want to see?¡±


    Naomi nods again, this time far more enthusiastically.


    Elara has a quick look around the room and spots a rather sorry-looking potted plant in the corner.


    ¡°My magic involves plants,¡± she tells the girl, pointing to the specimen she has in mind.


    ¡°Paolo, you need to look after your plants better,¡± she says, pointing at the plant.


    As she does, I feel the strange warm tingling feeling again, the same as back in the woods. Magic!


    Across the room, the plant starts to perk up, the wilting leaves gain new vigour and soon they positively glow with a mesmerising green vitality. From the centre of the plant, a stem emerges, and before our eyes, a bud grows and then opens into a glorious blue-tinged flower.


    ¡®Now there¡¯s something you don¡¯t see every day, Del.¡¯ Absorbed in the spectacle, I glance around. Naomi¡¯s face, mouth wide open, is a picture of wonder. A glance shows me Paolo¡¯s is the same. To be fair, I expect I look pretty similar.


    ¡°Magic,¡± whispers a tiny voice in awe.


    ¡°Yes, Naomi,¡± Elara agrees. ¡°Magic, and you can do magic too. Would you like me to teach you?¡±


    Naomi gives Elara a look that runs from awe to disbelief to amazement to pure elation. With a sudden squeal of joyous enthusiasm, she leaps into Elara¡¯s lap and wraps her in a big hug.


    ¡°You can teach me magic? Really? Can you, can you? Yes! Oh yes! Can I make flowers? Can I zap people? How do I do it? Tell me, tell me please, please pleeeease.¡±


    The rush of words trips off her tongue almost too fast to follow; we have one very excited girl on our hands.


    ¡®Well, Elara does. This isn¡¯t my ballgame.¡¯


    Elara is giggling at the babble of words, hugs, and soon kisses being bestowed upon her by the excited girl. After a bit, she manages to peel Naomi a little off her so she can look directly at her. Her face is serious, and Naomi, panting slightly, begins to calm down.


    ¡°All right, Naomi, I can teach you some magic¡ªnot like mine, though. Yours is a different magic to mine.¡± She pats the seat beside her, and Naomi climbs off her lap and sits on it. With a face now becoming focused in concentration, she listes intently to Elara¡¯s words. I can easily see the change in the young child¡¯s manner as she becomes all serious and attentive.


    ¡®Wish I could get into learning mode as fast as a kid.¡¯ I sit quietly to watch. ¡®Maybe I might learn new tricks easier.¡¯


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    I see Paolo¡¯s rapt attention switch from staring at his plant to focusing on Elara and Naomi.


    ¡°Magic,¡± she begins, ¡°is a rare thing that not everyone has. Some races have more, some less. Elves tend to have a lot of magic, and ours focuses mostly on nature and natural energy. Gnomes have a lot of magical people among them; they have strength in making things work better. Dwarves very rarely have magic, but when they do, it tends to be very powerful, very wild, and hard to predict. Now, you are not an elf, or a gnome or a dwarf.¡± Naomi wrinkles her nose at the thought. ¡°You are human, and humans who have magic, well, they can have all sorts of magic. Just like you.¡±


    ¡°I have magic?¡± Naomi whispers the question.


    ¡°Yes, I think you do.¡± Elara holds her hand gently. ¡°Do you remember when I said I thought you were a Dreamwalker? Well, dreamwalking is a very special kind of magic.¡±


    I am absorbed, as totally engrossed in this conversation, this lesson, as Naomi and Paolo. ¡®Might I learn more about magic from this?¡¯


    ¡°Am I a Dreamwalker?¡± she asks. ¡°Do you really think so?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Elara smiles in reply. ¡°Those times you remembered your dreams¡ªthe fox, the other things that happened, the Night Man? Well, that sounds very like dreamwalking.¡±


    Naomi¡¯s face once again assumes the shocked ¡®Oh¡¯ of wonder.


    ¡°So I am going to try and help you with it. Would you like that?¡±


    Naomi just nods vigorously.


    ¡°Magic,¡± Elara begins, tapping her chest, then forming a fist just below her breasts, ¡°comes from here.¡± She taps her head. ¡°And is controlled here.¡±


    Naomi¡¯s look of rapt concentration is completely fixed on Elara.


    ¡°Now, at the moment, you have magic here.¡± She gently taps the girl''s chest, and Naomi looks down at the area, a central spot just below her heart; then, touching her head, adds, ¡°but no control here.¡±


    Elara takes a breath, thinks for a moment, and I notice that I am absently rubbing my own chest, just above my diaphragm. ¡®If only¡­ Maybe one day, you daft sod.¡¯


    ¡°Now, because you haven¡¯t yet learned control, your dreamwalking just happens when it wants to, and goes where it likes. Do you see what I mean?¡± She cocks her head slightly at the child inquisitively.


    Naomi seems to concentrate. ¡°I think so,¡± she answers. ¡°That¡¯s why I have dreams?¡± The statement more a question.


    ¡°I believe it is,¡± says Elara with a big smile. ¡°Now to control¡ªthis is the hard part.¡± She frowns. ¡°Well, hard at first. When I first learned to control plants, it was hard, but the more I do it, the easier it gets.¡±


    ¡°But how can I control a dream?¡± Naomi asks, puzzled. ¡°I¡¯m asleep.¡±


    ¡®Fair point.¡¯ This whole subject has me enthralled.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s why you control when not really asleep,¡± Elara answers. ¡°You know when you lie down and close your eyes to rest but not sleep?¡±


    Naomi nods and adds, ¡°Nap time. I don¡¯t always want to sleep, but I pretend so Mummy won''t get cross.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± Elara agrees happily. ¡°Well, we are going to have a nap time now. Only this time, when you close your eyes, I want you to think about your breathing. As you breathe in slowly, picture in your mind one of the people who have gone missing. Then breathe out slowly.¡±


    Naomi, paying close attention, nods her head slowly. Closing her eyes, I can see her taking in long, deep breaths as if practising.


    ¡°Next breath, think of another one; focus most on the people who you know best and like the most.¡±


    Elara pauses to be sure that the young girl is following along. Naomi opens her eyes and nods, understanding.


    ¡°As you concentrate on your breathing and the people, you may find yourself floating or flying. Don¡¯t fight it; let it happen. It can be fun when you get used to it.¡±


    Naomi is totally transfixed.


    ¡°Now, when you are flying like this, you will find that you can still talk; just stay in the flying and speak of what you see.¡± This, says Elara with conviction, ¡°is what controlled dreamwalking is all about.¡±


    ¡°Can I try it?¡± Naomi asks softly.


    ¡°One last thing to learn first,¡± Elara says. ¡°When you sleep and dream, you wake up in the morning like always. When you do a nap-time dreamwalk, you need to have a signal to fly back to yourself and leave the dream.¡± She looks at Naomi to be sure she hasn¡¯t lost her. Seeing the girl''s understanding, she continues.


    ¡°Now, the signal or trigger can be anything¡ªyou could have a word you say or clap your hand in your dream, or click your fingers. As long as you choose your own trigger before you start, it will work.¡±


    ¡°What happens if I don¡¯t have a trigger?¡± she asks with a slightly worried look.


    ¡°Then you will just fall asleep and wake up after a long sleep like you do at night.¡±


    This seems to relieve the worry that had begun to form in her¡ªand, to be fair, in me at the girl''s question.


    Paolo speaks up at that point.


    ¡°Is she in any danger doing this dreamwalking thing?¡±


    ¡°No, not really,¡± replies Elara. ¡°She will be walking the Astral, and while it can be a bit scary sometimes, it¡¯s no more harmful than a dream.¡±


    ¡®Nightmares can be pretty damn scary places,¡¯ I can¡¯t help adding to myself. ¡®Are we sending a child into one?¡¯


    ¡°Can I try it now?¡± Naomi asks. ¡°I¡¯m not scared¡ªnot if you hold my hand.¡±


    Elara gives one of her big warming smiles.


    ¡°Of course you can hold my hand, and we can try it now if you like.¡±


    Paolo and I do a quick bit of furniture arranging, moving a chair for Elara to sit next to the chaise longue in the corner and adding another couple for ourselves to observe from.


    Adding a comfy cushion for Naomi''s head, she jumps up onto the seat and lies down.


    ¡°Now,¡± says Elara, sitting next to her and holding her hand. ¡°As you start, you may well feel a build-up of pressure here,¡± she taps the girl''s chest. ¡°That is your mana pool, and it''s what lets you dreamwalk. The pressure is normal with all magics, and when you feel it, just let it flow up to here.¡± Tapping the side of Naomi¡¯s head, ¡°And into the pictures you are imagining of the people who are missing. That¡¯s how you fly.¡±


    She looks directly at Naomi. ¡°Also¡ªand this is important¡ªmagic is not easy, so don¡¯t worry if you don¡¯t manage it straight away. It may take several tries before you learn control.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure what to expect, but I could almost feel a collective holding of breath as we awaited something to happen.


    ¡®If she can manage at all, it¡¯s a big ask of a young child.¡¯ I feel yet another pang of guilt, placing so much on such tiny shoulders.


    With a look of determination on her little face and brow furrowed, Naomi gives a little wriggle to get comfortable and, tightly gripping Elara¡¯s hand, closes her eyes.

 Chapter 23 – A sparkly fairyland

    I watch closely as the room quietens down, Paolo¡¯s intense concentration flickers in and out of hope and fear. If this works, then it may prove a key step in solving and ending the disappearances that plague Stonebridge. If it doesn¡¯t, then while we lose nothing, we are no further forward.


    ¡®We can only do what we can. I am so glad I am not in his shoes.¡¯ I scratch my chin. ¡®Beard needs a trim, I wonder if they have scissors.¡¯ I hadn¡¯t seen any, but then, back home, I kept mine in the drawer out of sight. ¡®Stay focused, Del.¡¯ I know I am getting distracted. The quiet, and the slow, steady breathing of Naomi, combined with the very air of calmness, seem to lull my ability to stay on point. I look at Elara holding Naomi¡¯s tiny hand, her face a picture of calm. Almost as if she is meditating herself, willing the girl to be a Dreamwalker.


    That¡¯s the thing. At this point, we don¡¯t really know if she is or not. The dreams she had could have just been that. Maybe they were a bit of a prescience, but some people get flashes of that, but not in a way that can be controlled.


    ¡®Come on, mate, on what are you basing that conclusion, shit from my own time?¡¯ I sigh and continue watching. ¡®What real rationale do you have for thinking anything from the old place has relevance here?¡¯ I give a small shake of my head. ¡®None, so shut the fuck up and watch.¡¯


    In my gut, I feel a small flicker, nothing like when Elara does her thing with plants, but definitely a flicker of something. If Elara¡¯s magic feels like a bunch of butterflies, this is more like a single creature breaking forth from its chrysalis and stretching out its wings to dry. Almost imperceptible but definitely something there.


    I can¡¯t help it, I sit forward in my seat, trying to see inside of her and share in what is happening to her. ¡®Doing good, lass, keep with it.¡¯ Something tells me this is a crux point. Could she push past the first hurdle and take flight?


    Her face is calm, yet in her brow, small furrows of concentration flitter in and out of being. Her breathing is measured and¡­


    With a start, she sits up.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do it, Elara,¡± she sniffles. ¡°I can see them in my head, but I am scared.¡± A tear trickles down her cheek.


    Elara slides off her chair to kneel on the floor so she can hug the frightened child.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Naomi,¡± she murmurs softly, stroking her hair. ¡°Magic can be a bit scary at first, but you have it, I felt it in you.¡± She pulls back slightly to look into Naomi¡¯s eyes. ¡°You just need to trust yourself.¡±


    Gently extracting herself from the hug, she sits on the seat behind the girl and eases her head back down onto her lap.


    ¡°Now, I am right here with you. I will protect you, so do you want to try again?¡±


    Giving a final sniffle, Naomi drags a hand across her eyes, gives her nose a vigorous little rub, and nods.


    Once again, she closes her eyes and begins the slow, measured breaths.


    In, out; in, out; in¡­


    In my gut, I feel once more that tiny butterfly, this time its wings dry and stretched out. It gives them a tentative beat or two, then, with a sudden rush, I feel the surge of magic taking shape, and a beatific smile crosses both Naomi¡¯s and Elara¡¯s faces at the same moment. Naomi¡¯s in wonder and Elara¡¯s in happiness and satisfaction at the success.


    The feeling ebbs and gently drifts away, and Naomi slowly opens her eyes.


    ¡°I flew,¡± she says quietly, with awe in her voice.


    ¡°You sure did,¡± Elara responds to her little student. ¡°Now you know you can fly, you just need to learn how to control where to go. What did you see when you were flying?¡±


    Naomi concentrates, her mouth forming a bit of a frown.


    ¡°It was strange. I was in here looking down, so up by the ceiling, I guess.¡± She grins. ¡°I could see all of you, and you were funny colours.¡±


    Elara picks up on this. ¡°What do you mean by different colours?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± she nibbles on the tip of her finger as she thinks. ¡°You were all sort of wobbly and had shiny rings around you.¡±


    ¡°Those are auras,¡± Elara says, pleased. ¡°That¡¯s good because you can use auras to find people. So, what did the auras look like? You said different colours.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yours was sort of green, and the elder¡¯s was a dark blue.¡± She looks at me then. ¡°Yours was strange, sort of a red that kept changing, like from dark to light and bright to dim. It was funny.¡± She giggles.


    I can understand Elara¡¯s¡ªgreen suits her very well. ¡®No idea about the meaning of colours in this sort of thing, but I guess blue is good.¡¯ I frown as I consider the final colour. ¡®So Del, red, huh? Well, well, probably just means I am a confirmed shit magnet.¡¯ I give a rueful little smile and get my mind back to watching the events play out. ¡®The key thing is, can she find Vita and the others.¡¯


    ¡°I¡¯m okay with being red, my cat is a ginge, so I might as well be a red¡¯n as well,¡± I tell her.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± Elara states, getting back on topic. ¡°We now need you to fly outside the room and this house, have a little fly about the village and get used to how it feels.¡±


    Naomi nods but looks a little puzzled. ¡°How do I do that? I was just floating before.¡±


    ¡°This is true, but in the astral, you can go anywhere. Just look in the direction you want to go and sort of¡±¡ªElara waves her hand in a circular motion¡ª¡°think or imagine yourself going there. As it¡¯s not you but your mind moving, you can just fly through walls and things as if they aren¡¯t there.¡±


    Naomi nods, her face serious as she takes in the instructions. Looking over, I can see Paolo sitting forward, his whole demeanour a mix of wonder and excitement. I would guess he is as new to this magic stuff as I am.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.¡°Now, if you look behind you as you explore, you will see a silver line heading back to this house. That¡¯s like a tether connecting you back to your body, so that¡¯s the way to go when you head back.¡± She looks at the girl to make sure she understands. I can see Paolo is also following along as intently as I am.


    ¡°Remember also the trigger. If you want to return straight away, just use the trigger and you will be back in your body in an instant.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± she says. ¡°Shall I try now?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and this time try to tell us what you are seeing as you fly about.¡±


    Naomi settles into Elara¡¯s lap, takes firm hold of her hand, and closes her eyes. The quiet of the room descends again as we all watch on. Once more, I feel the surge in my gut, this time seeming even firmer and more sure.


    ¡°I¡¯m outside¡­ Wow, the market is like a sparkly fairyland.¡± Her voice is quiet but filled with awe.


    ¡°The people are all blue, lots of different blues.¡± She laughs. ¡°I can see where Nate is hiding from the others¡­ he¡¯s in that bush, you doughnuts.¡±


    Elara strokes her hair gently. ¡°You are doing well,¡± she says quietly.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to look at what mummy is doing,¡± she states with glee. ¡°There she is, what¡¯s she doing with Mr Cooper?¡±


    ¡°I think you should move on,¡± Elara tells her with a hint of amusement in her voice. ¡°Now, do you know the way to Vita¡¯s home?¡±


    Naomi nods, her face as serious as mine and Paolo¡¯s.


    ¡°I want you to go that way and think hard about her.¡± She considers her next instruction and then continues. ¡°Did you see your silver thread?¡±


    A nod.


    ¡°As you get to her home and think hard about her, you are looking for another thread, it may be greenish like mine.¡±


    We all seem to hold our breaths for the minute or so she needs to journey to the Bonesetter¡¯s cottage. A single creak of a floorboard disturbs the still air as I lean forward in my chair.


    ¡®You go girl, I know you can do it.¡¯ I consider my thoughts. ¡®Please let her do it.¡¯¡°


    I see her house, it¡¯s all glowy,¡± she smiles brightly. ¡°It looks like magic.¡±


    ¡°Can you see her thread?¡±


    Naomi concentrates, and I even see her little head moving about a bit as if she is looking.


    ¡°I think I do. It¡¯s all sort of a light yellow-green, but it¡¯s all twisted up with black.¡± She lets out a little gasp. ¡°That black seems bad, angry.¡±


    I feel my jaw tighten, my nails digging into my palms as I clench my fists.


    ¡®This can¡¯t be good, Del, but it confirms that she was taken.¡¯


    Elara gives her hand a little squeeze.


    ¡°You are doing very well, Naomi,¡± she reassures her. ¡°Remember that you are safe here with us, this is just like a dream.¡±


    Though she looks worried, Naomi gives a little nod and takes on a determined look.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to go find Vita,¡± she states. ¡°I think the Night Man has her.¡±


    I glance at Paolo, and he looks at me, both of our expressions mirroring the other. It seems to be as we feared. I nod at him in recognition of his concern and turn back to the scene on the couch.


    ¡°What way is her thread going?¡± I ask. Elara flashes me a look that tells me to not interrupt and possibly disturb the vision. Naomi, however, hears and answers without any concern.


    ¡°It¡¯s going into the woods east towards woods that way.¡±


    I look towards Paolo questioningly.


    ¡°The only thing out that way is the old quarry, but that¡¯s not been used for several generations,¡± he answers my unspoken question quietly. ¡°Beyond that is just wildlands till you get to the Dwarven mountains.¡±


    ¡°Does it follow a path at all?¡± Elara asks.


    ¡°There is a sort of path, I guess.¡± Then a small smile. ¡°Yes, it follows it.¡±


    ¡°Alright, Naomi. I want you to follow Vita¡¯s thread but do it carefully and slowly, tell us anything you see that¡¯s odd but try not to lose sight of it.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± she agrees.


    We all watch closely, the tension in the air is almost palpable, and we find ourselves in the unenviable position of needing to be part of the action but unable to even watch.


    ¡®It¡¯s like listening to a badly directed radio play,¡¯ I grumble to myself. ¡®Too many breaks in dialogue and no sound effects.¡¯ I am finding it just so frustrating, my hands itch for action, my legs ache to be on my way to find Vita myself.


    I just have to hold on and wait for this brave little girl to show me the way.


    Time seems to tick slowly, moment follows moment.


    ¡°There are rocks ahead and a hole in the ground,¡± she says, interrupting my thoughts.


    ¡°That must be the quarry,¡± Elara tells her. ¡°Can you see anything there?¡±


    Naomi gives a little shake of her head.


    ¡°Not from here, but the thread goes into the hole and then down to the bottom.¡±


    She takes a big breath. ¡°This place feels bad.¡±


    Giving her hand another little squeeze, Elara tells her, ¡°You don¡¯t have to go further if you don¡¯t want to.¡±


    ¡°No, I have to find Vita,¡± she states firmly.


    ¡°I¡¯m at the bottom, there is a tunnel, and I am going to look.¡±


    ¡°You are being very brave,¡± Elara tells her.


    ¡°It¡¯s dark in here, but I can still see,¡± she looks puzzled. ¡°I can¡¯t normally see in the dark.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because you are in the astral, it has its own sort of light, I have been told,¡± Elara tells her.


    ¡°I can still see her thread. There are a lot of other blue threads as well here, but the black one is bigger, stronger.¡± She gulps. ¡°Meaner.¡±


    It is almost possible to see her gathering up her courage as she then plunges on into the darkness.


    ¡°I can see lights up ahead, like torches.¡± She pauses. ¡°Someone is crying, I can hear someone crying.¡± She takes a tighter grip on Elara¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯m going to go see.¡±


    We wait, all of us holding our breath, watching this small child being so brave and grown up.


    With a sudden start, she sits bolt upright, a scream ripping from her lips, and, spinning round, grips Elara in a tight, terrified hug.


    ¡°The Night Man¡­ He saw me!¡±


    And passes out.

 Chapter 24 - Braver than Nate

    ¡°What the hell happened?¡± I ask, standing to go and look at the girl. I take her hand and feel for a pulse. ¡®What the hell are you doing that for? You wouldn¡¯t know a pulse if it leapt up and bit your nose.¡¯


    ¡°I thought you said she would be safe.¡± Paolo is crowding around too, trying to see what is going on.


    ¡°She should have been.¡± Elara sounds confused and a little bit frightened. ¡°In the astral, it¡¯s literally just her mind exploring. Nothing should be aware of her except another astral being. And they are scarce to be found.¡±


    ¡°Well, it looks like this Night Man can damn well see astral stuff because he saw her.¡± My anger bites through my words.


    Elara looks confused, but I can see her cogs beginning to whir.


    ¡°Maybe, maybe not. We need to wait for Naomi to wake up. She isn¡¯t harmed physically; I think she just passed out as she was both very scared and rushed her return after a long astral journey.¡± Elara strokes her head gently. ¡°I think she may have imagined him looking at her, but we need to talk it through with her calmly to be sure of what happened.¡±


    ¡°In the meantime,¡± Paolo says, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. ¡°I¡¯m going to go round up the town militia. I think we have a visit to the quarry to undertake.¡±


    ¡°Gather your troops, boss,¡± I say, looking at him. ¡°But hold off on running over there until we hear what she has to say.¡±


    Paolo considers, then nods in agreement and bustles out.


    ¡°Do you know what happened?¡± I ask Elara again, calmer this time. I know it wasn¡¯t her fault, but my own shocked reaction had unfairly targeted her, and I feel bad about it.


    ¡°No,¡± she shakes her head. ¡°I feel terrible that it went like this. I just hope it doesn¡¯t have a lasting effect on her developing her talent. Dreamwalkers are rare.¡±


    ¡®Fuck her talent,¡¯ I inwardly shout. ¡®She¡¯s just a kid.¡¯


    ¡°I¡¯m sure she will be okay.¡± I reassure her, my voice so much gentler than my internal raging. I feel so conflicted. We needed this information, and to be fair, I blame myself as much as this damn Night Man for what happened.


    ¡®I shouldn¡¯t have agreed to letting her do this, mate,¡¯ I chide myself, running a hand through my hair, the scratching at my scalp doing little to assuage my feeling of guilt. ¡®But she came through; we know where they are.¡¯ I was doing that pointless trick I had, arguing with myself would never get me anywhere, yet I continued to pursue the habit.


    I take a seat on what had been Elara¡¯s chair and gather her hand; together, we watch the girl quietly, talking through what happened and comparing our thoughts on the events and what they might mean.


    From a magical perspective, Elara confirms my suspicion that once Naomi had unlocked them, her mana had rapidly surged.


    ¡°It was a lot faster coming to her than it was for me,¡± Elara concludes. ¡°Maybe because she is so much younger. Most elves don¡¯t unlock any magical potential they may have until at least their late teens. In my case, I was 23.¡±


    We both look at her; my mind reflects on events. If she is this young, then would that mean significant power ahead or an early burnout? ¡®I just don¡¯t know enough to be able to judge.¡¯


    ¡°Once her mana broke through, it just surged; there was nothing gentle about it,¡± Elara frowns. ¡°It was almost violent in how it grew, and that scared me a bit.¡±


    I look into her face, that fear showing clearly in her eyes.


    ¡°She needs a proper trainer, even more than I do.¡± Looking directly at me, I can see she is very serious. ¡°And a lot faster, or she may harm herself with uncontrolled mana feedback.¡±


    ¡°I take it that¡¯s not a good thing.¡± I shift uncomfortably. ¡®Stop stating the bloody obvious, you twat.¡¯


    ¡°No,¡± she says with a shake of her head. ¡°Definitely not. I have never seen or experienced it, but at its worst, it can leave someone''s mind completely scrambled.¡±


    I suck in a breath through my teeth. We need to prevent that at all costs.


    ¡°So does she need to stop doing this until she gets training?¡± I take hold of Naomi¡¯s hands over the top of Elara¡¯s.


    ¡°No, in fact, the opposite. The more she practices, the better her control over her mana will become.¡± She glances at me again. ¡°Though until she gets trained, the risk is always going to be there for her.¡±


    As we watch and wait, I notice the smallest flutter of an eyelid, then with a start, Naomi sits up and looks around in a panic. Seeing she is in the room with us, she almost wilts into Elara and shudders a little as she gets herself under control. All the while, Elara holds her gently and whispers soothing noises into her hair.


    Naomi takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, looking up at us.


    ¡°He saw me,¡± she states simply.


    ¡°Tell us everything,¡± I say as tenderly as my generally gruff tones allow. ¡®In the beginning, there was a big flash and stars rushed out¡­¡¯ my inner voice sneers at me. ¡®Shut the fuck up, Del.¡¯ I answer it.


    ¡°I was going down the tunnel, the one at the bottom of the big hole in the ground,¡± she confirms. ¡°It was spooky, but I wasn¡¯t scared¡ªnot like Nate when he got locked in the feed shed.¡± She nods at that to confirm her self-proclaimed bravery.


    Inwardly, I want her to get on with it, but I know I can¡¯t rush her. ¡®It''s her story and her trauma, let her tell it her way and no nagging.¡¯


    ¡°So, I saw lights ahead, flickering like reed torches, and I heard someone crying quietly.¡± She gives a little wriggle to get more comfortable.


    ¡°I saw round the corner, and it was a big room, with pillars and stuff, a fire in the middle causing the flickering and making the room look all smoky, hazy. I saw Emily; she was crying, and I saw Vita; she was lying down, I think she was asleep or something.¡± Taking a big, steadying breath, I can see her lip quiver.


    Stolen novel; please report.¡°I felt something looking at me and turned around. It was the Night Man, and he was coming right at me.¡± There is an obvious rising panic in her little voice. ¡°I clapped my hands and the next thing I knew, I was here with you both.¡± She looks around. ¡°Where¡¯s the elder? I thought he was staying while I looked for Vita.¡± It was obvious from her small confusion, there was no memory of her original sudden return and passing out.


    She looks into Elara¡¯s eyes. ¡°Was I brave? Did I do it right?¡±


    Elara hugs her very tightly.


    ¡°Yes, Naomi, you were very brave and did a great job.¡± She kisses the top of Naomi¡¯s head. ¡°You are a totally amazing young Dreamwalker, and I bet you are the bravest girl in all of Stonebridge.¡±


    Naomi gives a delighted giggle, and I can see the fear and tension melting from her.


    ¡°Braver than Nate.¡± She agrees and jumps off Elara¡¯s lap.


    ¡°Can I go home now? It¡¯s getting late, and Mummy will want me home for supper soon.¡±


    I smile and nod. ¡°Yes, lass, head home and don¡¯t get sidetracked, straight there, you hear?¡± As she runs out, I stand and stretch. My back creaks and pops. ¡®Man, I didn¡¯t know I was so tensed up,¡¯ I think, holding out my hand to assist Elara in extracting herself from the couch.


    ¡°We need to go see Paolo,¡± I say to her. With that, we both head out the door.


    The market square is a chaotic bustle. People are running about, various big men strapping on rudimentary armour and taking weapons from a storage shed attached to the elder''s house. Among the men, I see Jake and Merl, faces grim as they chat quietly to one side. Merl is absently testing the edge of his sword with his thumb as he speaks with the innkeeper. I also spot the man I saw making barrels the other day¡ªMr Cooper, perhaps? ¡®Mind out of the gutter, Del,¡¯ I chide myself with a grin.


    Elara taps my arm, and I turn to see Paolo hurrying over to us, fighting with a buckle on his jerkin as he comes.


    ¡°I saw Naomi leaving to run home; was she able to tell you anything?¡±


    I feel Elara tense up a bit.


    ¡°Yes, she is fine, thank you for asking,¡± she informs him tersely. ¡°No lasting ill effects we could find.¡±


    I give her a look. ¡®Easy, tiger,¡¯ I think, then add to Paolo, ¡°She managed to give us more information, but we will find out more when we get there.¡±


    ¡°Are they¡­¡± he starts in a quiet voice.


    ¡°Alive?¡± I look him in the eye and see his fears. ¡°Yes, at least she was able to tell us Emily and Vita are. She wasn¡¯t able to check anyone else, as the Night Man butted in.¡± Paolo lets out a sigh of relief. I can see his focus shift from worries about his friends'' survival to a more urgent need for their rescue.


    Elara takes over at that point, her voice having lost the annoyed edge from a moment ago.


    ¡°Whoever he is, he may be a lot more dangerous than we have been thinking.¡± Paolo looks visibly worried at that, rubbing his hands together nervously.


    ¡°From what Naomi was able to tell us, he could almost certainly see her astral form, and that means he has at least some magical ability.¡± With a shrug, she adds, ¡°She couldn¡¯t describe him, though, and to be honest with you, she was too scared of him to push her.¡±


    The elder nods and thanks us before turning away and raising his voice as he starts to get the small militia ready.


    ¡®This is going to be a shit show, I just know it.¡¯ I¡¯ve had enough problems fighting a couple of goblins, and the bandits would have killed me if it wasn¡¯t for Elara and Misty. I look up. At what, I don¡¯t know. But I am starting to feel angry, scared, and alone. ¡®You are a total bastard, BB,¡¯ my inner psych shouts at an uncaring sky. ¡®How the fuck do we fight magic?¡¯


    It¡¯s weird, feeling alone when surrounded by people, with my closest friend and ally in this strange land standing right next to me, and new friends just feet away. But the total alienness of my situation is starting to get to me.


    I feel a nudge against my mind and look down. Misty is sitting against my leg, looking up. ¡®Not alone,¡¯ I feel her say. Letting out a long-held breath, I reach down and scratch her head. ¡®Thank you, girl,¡¯ I reply.


    Standing back up, I rub my hands together and brush an imagined speck off my leg. I look to Elara and give her a smile.


    ¡°Shall we?¡± I ask.


    I step forward and raise my voice to be heard above the general hubbub around us.


    ¡°Right, guys, we need to head off if we are going to do this before it¡¯s completely dark.¡± Eyes are on me now, some in confusion at this stranger to the village trying to take charge. Paolo steps in.


    ¡°Del here has been leading the search for me to find the missing and figure out what was going on. For now, he is in charge of the rescue.¡±


    This seems to settle at least the surface concerns of the villagers. Merl gives me an encouraging look of approval.


    ¡°Drinks are on me when we get back with them,¡± adds Jake to a small cheer.


    Even I, tense as I am, have to chuckle at that.


    ¡°We don¡¯t exactly know what we are getting into when we get there,¡± I continue to the now quiet and attentive group. ¡°It¡¯s possible he may have some magical powers, and we know he uses Listwort freely to subdue his victims.¡±


    There is a small nervous murmuring at the mention of magic.


    ¡°However, we also know that at this moment, the kidnapped villagers appear to be alive.¡± I see grins of relief surrounding me and glance at Elara, who gives me an approving look.


    ¡°So, let''s get there and see what we can do to make sure he never takes anyone again.¡±


    There is another cheer, and the men of Stonebridge¡¯s militia gather themselves up, and we head out.

 Chapter 25 – I could bloody well kiss you

    Fifteen was not a bad force for a small village to host, including Elara and I to make up that final number.


    ¡®Plus we have our secret weapon.¡¯ Misty struts along at my feet, well aware of her place and her value to me. ¡®Just you be careful, girl,¡¯ I tell her with a frown. She responds with a little huff.


    Of the group, I knew only Merl, Jake, and Paolo well. The others I had seen in passing as we had mixed our shopping with investigating.


    All were garbed in a mixture of well-worn but cared-for leather with the odd bit of steel reinforcement. Two had bows, and the rest, including Jake, had a mix of swords and bows, apart from Merl. He wielded a large, intimidating hammer with both his meaty hands. Swinging it about a bit to get its weight comfortable, he then rested it across his shoulder, gave me a grin, and put himself towards the front of the group with Paolo.


    As we set off, I send Misty ahead as normal. One of the archers, I think his name is Lars, also heads off to take point. Apparently, he is a hunter, one of the best in the village. ¡®Should be a good scout and used to moving unseen.¡¯ The rest of us move forward at a steady pace; the path is narrow, so we can only move along in pairs. We are trying to maintain at least a semblance of stealth, but if I am honest with myself, we are not quite as noisy as a herd of elephants. We can¡¯t travel as fast as Naomi managed in her astral form, but we do make good progress. After about an hour, I get a familiar nudge from Misty up ahead.


    ¡®Rock hole now.¡¯


    I give Paolo a tap and whisper to him,¡°Misty tells me that the quarry is just ahead.¡± He nods and holds up his hand to call a halt.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to go forward and have a look; Lars should be up ahead as well, so I will see if we can get a good vantage and figure the best route into the pit.¡±


    I quietly move the rest of the way along the path. I feel the presence of Elara a couple of feet behind me and look back to give her a reassuring nod of encouragement. After a couple of hundred yards, the woods end at the edge of a long-disused quarry. It appears as a large, rough-hewn pit cut deep into the side of a hill, dropping perhaps 50 or so feet to a floor littered with gravel and part-carved blocks of grey stone. To my left a bit and perched up in a tree, I see Lars, bow in hand, watching for any movement below. Taking care not to slip, I edge closer to the lip of the large hole.


    To my disappointment, it is an almost sheer cliff. At regular spots about 10 to 15 feet apart are ledges jutting out a little from the wall. I would guess that at one point ladders led down, one to another, until the bottom was reached. In the opposite wall at the base of the hill was the cave mouth Naomi had seen and entered. ¡®Our path is clear, but that is going to be a total bitch to climb down.¡¯¡°We need rope,¡± I say quietly to Elara. ¡°I have some, but not enough. Head back and see if Paolo and the men managed to pack some.¡±¡°On my way,¡± she answers quietly and disappears back up the trail.


    I look back down into the quarry and catch sight of a small ginger form hunkered down behind a small boulder near the cave, watching it intensely.


    ¡®How the hell did she get down there?¡¯ Stupid question, trying to figure out how she does many of the things she manages seemingly without any issue. While I wait, I study the area carefully, looking for anything out of place. I come up blank. To my eyes, it is just an old quarry long out of use and returning slowly back to nature''s grip.Turning away from the ledge, I pull my rope from my pack and tie it firmly to a stout nearby tree. ¡®Bloody rope climbing, last time I climbed a rope was back in school gym classes.¡¯ I grumble to myself as I begin tying knots in the rope every 3 or 4 feet. ¡®I was shit at it then and am probably going to fall and break my damned neck now.¡¯


    As I get to the end, I spot Elara coming up with the rest of the group on her heels.


    With hushed voices and as quietly as they can, most of the men go and peer over the edge to see what we have to do next. There is a mix of bravado and nervousness among their looks. Merl takes the end of my rope, shakes his head sadly at my efforts, and drops his backpack to the floor.


    With a smile, he pulls out a well-made rope ladder that had been coiled up within.


    ¡®Right now, I could bloody well kiss you.¡¯ The relief all over my face makes him chuckle.


    ¡°You told us it was a quarry, what the bloody hell did you think I would bring? Sandwiches?¡± And he fixes the end of the ladder securely to the tree I had been using. With a flick, he throws the rest of it down into the pit below.


    I see Misty¡¯s head whip round at the clatter of the ladder unrolling down the rock face. She gives a little stretch, then resumes her watchful observation of the entrance.


    With the ladder in place, we climb carefully downwards. The ladder creaks a bit ominously, but it is strong and up to the job. Having decided to leave Lars in his tree on overwatch, the rest of us gather at the foot of the cliff.


    ¡°Ok, we don¡¯t know exactly what to expect up ahead,¡± I tell them quietly. ¡°But in that cave is a long tunnel that ends in an open cavern. A few hours ago, we know at least Vita and Emily were in there near a fire pit.¡± I look around to be sure I have everyone''s attention.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.¡°We know very little of the man who took them, if he is working alone, or if he uses magic or ordinary weapons. About the only thing we know for certain is a black cloak and the use of Listwort.¡±


    ¡°Not exactly a lot to go on,¡± Jake says.


    ¡°True,¡± Paolo responds. ¡°But those are our people in there, and we are here to get them back.¡± His tone brooks no argument, and I can see determination in every face.


    I give my little ginger demon a nudge. ¡®Can you hear or smell anything?¡¯


    After a moment, she responds. ¡®Some smoke, peoples, strange sleep thing. No noise.¡¯


    I relay to the group that Misty can still smell the villagers along with the traces of Listwort and the campfire. Apart from that, all seems quiet. Having done that, I look at my little cat and send her on ahead to investigate.


    ¡®Stay safe, girl, no risks, you hear me.¡¯ Damn, that cat was too fucking brave for her own good. But I smile as I get a mental ¡®Huff¡¯ back at me.


    Slowly and carefully, we make our way across the quarry floor. It¡¯s a couple of hundred feet and a rough oval in shape. ¡®I wonder why they stopped using it.¡¯ My idle curiosity ponders the thought. The odd stone clatters from beneath boots more used to farming and crafting than sneaking about; muffled curses are quickly stifled. At least we knew the quarry itself was empty, and we had sniper cover above. That gave me a measure of comfort. ¡®What the hell have you got yourself into, Del?¡¯ I carefully skirt round a large rock. ¡®I swear, when I get out of this, that fucking computer is going in the bin.¡¯


    As we close in on the dark entry ahead, the air gets a definite chill to it, the coldness seeming to emanate directly from the broad opening. From outside, we could only see a few feet into it, the light failing to penetrate very far, as if sucked from existence in that forbidding place.


    ¡®Misty?¡¯ I nudge her cautiously to see if she has any update. She doesn¡¯t respond, so I indicate we wait for a bit to see if we can manage to get any fresh information.


    Elara taps me on the shoulder. ¡°I can see in the dark pretty well,¡± she tells me. ¡°It''s something all elves can do.¡± She shrugs a little self-deprecatingly. ¡°Not as well as dwarves, but we don¡¯t spend our time hiding under mountains.¡±


    ¡°Are you suggesting you join Misty in scouting the tunnel ahead of us?¡± I ask, concern obvious.


    She simply nods and slips her bow off her back and plucks an arrow from the quiver.


    ¡°One of us has to, and I can go without giving myself away by needing a torch.¡±


    I know she is right, but I don¡¯t like it. ¡®Why am I surrounded by such brave people? I don¡¯t deserve it, that¡¯s for sure.¡¯ I look towards Paolo and see he has no better idea. Reluctantly, I give her a nod and watch as she quietly makes her way inside and out of sight.


    The wait is painful; every moment, I feel the seconds ticking by like the toll of doom I can¡¯t avoid. ¡®You are being melodramatic, Del. Pack it in.¡¯


    I let her have five minutes; no sound comes from that black void, just the chill of the air sucking everything from me. In the end, I can handle no more, and despite the lessons learned from watching too many horror films in my youth, I indicate it¡¯s time to move forward.


    Unsheathing my sword, and the others following suit, we break out the torches and head into the depths ahead.


    At first, the going is fairly easy. The floor is smooth and worn with the tread of the many workers who had once filled this place. The wall appears to be a mix of natural cavern and hand-hewn sections to widen the path or remove choice rocks.With such a collection of booted feet, silence is impossible, and our footsteps echo around us, creating an eerie feeling of sound appearing and disappearing from random directions. At one point, I can hear the drip of water, and the chill soon becomes a bone-aching cold. The air is getting musty, and the touch of smoke in the air grows stronger as we go.


    Behind me, I hear the rapid scuffle of a foot slipping and a muffled curse as one of the men trips up. In the flickering torchlight, it''s hard to see with all the shadows leaping and flickering as we go. My eyes are constantly scanning, looking for things that probably aren¡¯t there. A flicker in the distance grabs my attention, my heart skipping a beat, only to realise it was yet another shadow-cast illusion.


    ¡®Paranoia is not a good look, Del. Worry about the real shit, not the imaginary stuff.¡¯


    The way becomes narrower, and we are forced to string out more. Soon we can only go two abreast and still have the potential to use our weapons if needed.Up ahead, I hear a gasp and a sharply whispered,


    ¡°Del? Get up here.¡±


    Immediately, I pick up my pace at Elara¡¯s voice and move ahead quickly.


    ¡®Please be ok.¡¯ I feel adrenaline surge at the possibilities her call may bring.


    Elara is crouched on the ground by a small ginger shape. Rushing forward, I see my cat, softly letting out a mix of gentle purrs and snores. Clutched in her paws is a small bag that smells clearly of Listwort.


    Up ahead, from around a bend in the tunnel, the flickering of a fire casts more shadows on the walls.

 Chapter 26 – Don’t say fireballs

    As I get down beside Elara, I give my snoring cat a gentle stroke.¡°


    I thought I told you to keep out of trouble,¡± I say to her.


    I hear the rest of the group coming up and gathering behind us as I gather up the sleeping moggy and tuck her gently into my pack on top of my spare clothes. I place the pack to the side of the passage, out of the way.


    ¡®I¡¯ll be back for you later unless you wake up first.¡¯ I blow out my breath and stand.


    ¡°Well, either she has been into the cavern and was bringing that bag to us, or it was dropped here.¡± I kick the little bag aside.


    ¡°No point trying to figure it out, so let''s go see what¡¯s happening ahead.¡± I check my sword and look at our motley crew. ¡°Be ready for anything.¡±


    Moving forward slowly, I peer around the corner; the fire is clearly visible. The cavern appears to be a natural space, rough walls lift up towards a dark domed ceiling with multiple stalactites pointing their needle tips at the floor below. Numerous cracks and fissures in the stone allow water to seep through and run down the walls, giving the whole place a cold, damp air that smells of musty earth mixed with woodsmoke from the fire.


    ¡®At least the smoke seems to be mostly venting upwards,¡¯ my lungs are pleased to note.


    The floor of the cavern has been roughly cleared in the centre; most of the stalagmites have been hacked off, and the rubble thrust to the far side out of the way. At the far edge of the cleared area is a roughly erected tent.


    Apart from the firepit and the tent, the space holds five columns¡ªat a guess, they were once stalagmites, now carved smooth and fixed with an iron ring about six feet above the ground. Suspended by manacles to each ring is a slumped figure. Chests bared and complicated sigils oozing dark bloody trails carved into their skin.


    I hear muted gasps and feel the anger rise behind me and quickly raise my hand to forestall the group rushing into a probable trap.


    Each column and suspended victim sits at the point of a pentagram carefully carved into the ground and inlaid with some sort of dark metal. The outer ring of the pentagram connects each column in some sort of barbaric magical ritual circle.


    I feel Elara¡¯s breath near my ear as she leans in to whisper quietly.


    ¡°There is strong magic here, Del. I can feel it building.¡± She pauses as if tasting the ether. ¡°I don¡¯t recognise the magic, but it''s not good magic.¡±


    In my gut, I too could feel that distinctive magic; only instead of butterflies, this felt like the angry buzz of disturbed hornets. I carefully studied the chained victims.


    ¡®Magic, really. Couldn¡¯t have guessed that.¡¯ I am angry, but my snark won¡¯t help them.


    Carefully watching, I can see the occasional shuddering rise and fall of chests and, above the crackle of flame, hear the quiet groans escaping unconscious lips.In the centre of the ritual circle is a stone block with a naked figure lying bound to it, moaning and writhing weakly.


    I hear Paolo behind me and glance at him, his eyes fixed on the altar.¡°Emily.¡± He breathes out quietly, his voice catching in pain at the sight.


    I motion everyone to step back around the bend, and once there we gather quietly.¡°We can¡¯t just rush in,¡± I begin, trying to recall those long-ago-read tales. Lord of the Rings and Terry Pratchett make odd bedfellows, but it was all I had to go on.


    ¡°Elara, do you have any thoughts on what we may be facing?¡± I ask her.


    ¡®Just don¡¯t say fireballs, not fireballs.¡¯


    ¡°Anyone else as well, if you have any experience or knowledge of what a mage may bring, speak now.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say,¡± Elara speaks up. ¡°We don¡¯t know what strength he has; he used drugs, not magic, to take his sacrifices.¡± I shudder at that term, even though it seems accurate from what I had seen.


    ¡°It may be that his only real power is in whatever he plans with that circle, some sort of ritual.¡± She shrugs as if sorry she is of little other help.


    ¡®Don¡¯t berate yourself, lass; that¡¯s more than I could figure.¡¯


    ¡°Anyone else?¡± I ask.


    Jake holds up his hand, and it causes me to give a little smile. ¡®Not your typical classroom, mate.¡¯ I tip my head at him to speak.


    ¡°My grandad used to tell me tales of the Wizard, said he used fireballs.¡±


    ¡®I said no fucking fireballs!¡¯I sigh.


    ¡°Okay, there is always the possibility of big magic affecting a large area.¡± I rub the bridge of my nose, thinking. ¡°Chances are, nothing big enough to disrupt whatever he is planning in there, though.¡±


    I tap my fingers on my leg.


    ¡°Okay, Elara, you go left, scurry around and get an angle for a good shot.¡± I look at the other archer. ¡°You, I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t get your name.¡±


    ¡°Sam,¡± he interjects.


    ¡°Sam, same as Elara, only you go right.¡± I see him nod.


    ¡°Right, Merl, you take five and make your way to the right of the circle. I will go with Paolo and Jake and the other three left.¡± I see Merl looking around, mentally selecting his team.


    ¡°Do not, under any circumstances, step into the circle or disrupt what''s going on. We don¡¯t know what that may cause, but being dead is no good to anyone.¡± The faces around me are all very serious, and I see agreement in their eyes.


    ¡°Our goal is the tent. If we can get there before he knows we¡¯re here, then that¡¯s the best outcome.¡± The cynic in me is laughing at me.


    ¡®Fat chance is better than no hope.¡¯ I really hate my inner me sometimes.


    I look around the group, my eyes meeting each of theirs. I see fear, naturally, but more than that. I see resolve. Those are their people, and they will see this through.


    ¡°We have the numbers; stay strong, and we can swamp him regardless of whatever power he may have.¡±


    With that, I turn and head back towards the cavern, touching Elara¡¯s hand as I pass her.


    Slipping quietly back around the bend, I slow to let Sam and Elara pass and head to their positions, melding quickly into the darkest shadows. Merl and his crew go next, moving as quietly as the ground will allow; I follow suit, heading left.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    I feel my breath getting quicker; I was far from being used to the anticipation of combat. In the battle of fight and flight, only fight could be allowed to win out. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jake place a reassuring hand on Paolo¡¯s shoulder; he grins at him and grips his knife firmly.


    ¡®Stay strong, Del, they need to see you keep on point.¡¯ I give Jake a wink, and he grins back at me.


    As we circle the fire and get closer to the chained villagers, the crackle helps muffle our steps, but the tangible feel of magic is now almost nauseating and, to my ears, seems to buzz louder than the wood popping in the firepit.


    Ahead in the tent, I see a light flare up and a shadow move within it.


    ¡®Oh shit.¡¯


    With a terrible roar of pure rage, a figure rips out of the tent.


    Tall, lithe, and dressed in a voluminous black hooded cape with a twisted wooden staff in hand. It seems we have found the Night Man.


    I take an involuntary step back at the sight, grab hold of my nerves and grip the hilt of my sword. I feel the air pulse with a violent discharge of mana, and a lightning bolt streaks forward, splitting the air with eye-watering brightness.


    I don¡¯t even get a chance to cry out a warning as the man to my left is blown backwards. Dead or alive, I have no way of knowing and not the time to find out.


    ¡°Elara,¡± I cry out.


    I needn¡¯t have worried as an arrow whistles past to bury itself in his leg.


    The Night Man roars and sweeps a hand down to snap off the shaft as he spins to face the archer¡¯s direction. Another bolt snaps out, but it is shot from the hip and cracks into the rockface, missing its target.


    In that distracting moment, we are able to close towards him. The mage, seeing us coming, sweeps his staff in a circle, and a blast of force shoves us all back several feet. And he lifts his staff to cast another spell.


    Sam chose that moment to take a shot and disrupts the cast as the mage is forced to use his staff to deflect an arrow heading for his head. The deflection works well enough to just leave him with a slice across his cheek rather than an arrow through his eye.


    Two more arrows fly forward, and, raising his off-hand, he casts some sort of shield that the arrows both hit. The shield shimmers and collapses, but the arrows drop harmlessly to the floor.


    ¡°Push forward,¡± I shout out as we close in. Another arrow flashes in, batted away by his staff, but Merl¡¯s group arrives from the right as we close in on the left.


    Merl''s hammer crashes forward, the air almost snarling as it rips apart to allow its passage. Another shield springs up; the hammer crashes through it, but most of its power is dissipated. It hits the Night Man¡¯s shoulder, but he seems to shrug off the blow, though I see his eyes widen in his first show of alarm.


    Taking a step backwards, he cries out a guttural string of words in a language well beyond my understanding.


    The air around him shimmers and a dark light pulses out.


    We all stagger backwards, and I see at least two men go down, retching on the ground.


    ¡®We need to end this,¡¯ I yell at myself.


    I try to push forward with my sword leading the way and see Merl, though slightly green, holding it together and winding up for another strike.


    Whatever that light was, it''s like fighting through molasses. The air is thick and sticky, and our every move is slowed, making us easy targets for his magic.


    Suddenly, I feel butterflies.


    ¡®Elara?¡¯


    The dark air is pushed apart by a wash of green as grass sprouts rapidly from the cavern floor.


    ¡®Oh, good girl.¡¯


    We can move again. I see Merl¡¯s hammer flying forward on its swing. The Night Man steps to the side, and the hammer crashes into the ground, sending rock splinters flying.


    A knife thrown, I think from Jake, hits his side. It doesn¡¯t penetrate far, but I see the mage''s look of shock and pain as if fully realising how outnumbered he is.


    At that moment, with a howl and a flash of ginger fur, a ball of terror flies forward and rips open his wrist, causing him to drop his staff.


    I jump the last bit of the gap between us and slash with my sword, opening a long gash in his other arm.


    ¡°Enough,¡± he yells, and a circle of flame leaps out, forcing us all back as he snarls at us.


    Then¡­


    His eyes go wide, and his body flies forward, the back of his skull caved in by Merl''s vicious hammer swing.


    ¡°I live with fire, you fucking dick,¡± he growls in response, kicking the dead body.


    [You killed Human Mage lvl 3, Experience gained]


    Misty comes over to me and rubs herself against my legs as if in apology for her earlier slip-up and snooze. She then disappears off to explore the cavern some more.


    We all gather around the dead mage.I feel the adrenaline dissipation leaving me feeling a bit wobbly and weak at the knees. I can almost feel the collective sighs of relief from around me as we take in the battle''s aftermath.


    Elara rips off the Night Man¡¯s cape and wraps the staff up in it, taking care not to touch it directly.


    ¡°We need to have this checked out before anyone can touch it directly,¡± she tells us.


    Looking around, I can see nobody wants to go near it.


    ¡°Now what?¡± asks Jake, looking towards the victims still chained up.


    ¡°I need to figure out what''s going on here and try to undo it,¡± says Elara. ¡°If I do it wrong, the backlash could be violent, to say the least.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to check out the tent,¡± I tell Paolo. ¡°I suggest the rest of you take care of any injuries. I have a feeling there is still much to figure out here.¡±


    I too look at the magic circle.


    ¡®Hang tight, people, we will get you down as soon as we can.¡¯

 Chapter 27 – Lizard for lunch

    The little beeping going on in my head lets me know that the Overmind has messages for me. Angrily, I dismiss the idea of checking my spam folder.


    ¡®I don¡¯t have time right now, BB, now fuck off and let me deal with more important shit than your nagging.¡¯


    Abruptly, the beeping stops, almost with a squawk of surprise at getting yelled at.


    ¡®Now I really am imagining things.¡¯


    I look around. Elara is studying the circle and appears to be trying to decipher the sigil carved into the chest of one of the men. Fortunately, the victims all appear to be unconscious, so at least they are spared a modicum of relief from the situation they are in.


    Misty is prowling about, doing her own investigations, so it seems. I have no idea what she may be looking for, but I am sure she has her own logic at work.Paolo is talking quietly with the rest of the party. I can smell feldspar ointment being used to ease injuries and the occasional burn. Looking to my left, I see Jake kneeling down beside the man who had been hit by the lightning bolt. As I watch, he places a gentle hand on the man''s cheek, then shrugs off his jacket and covers his face in respect.


    ¡®I don¡¯t even know your name, but you were brave and didn¡¯t deserve to die.¡¯ I feel a sombreness wash over the relief I had been feeling at the successful conclusion to the battle.


    As I turn to the tent, I see that the rest have noticed Jake¡¯s action, and their faces reflect his sadness. I give a simple nod to Jake, acknowledging the loss of one of our number, and head over to see what I might find.


    My first stop is the body of the dead mage. Devoid of his cloak, I can now see him properly. Even in death, he has an air of malevolence about him. His face is all narrow, sharp angles. A pointy chin is emphasised by a tightly cropped goatee, a thin face with a beak nose, and dark eyes staring lifelessly at the cavern roof. His hair is black and collar length, looking well cared for.


    ¡®More than can be said for mine.''


    ¡¯His clothes are well made and look expensive¡ªfine black cotton rather than the villagers'' rough-spun linen.


    ¡®Was this guy trying to portray the classic villain look or what?¡¯


    On his hands are an assortment of rings, and I can feel the tingle of ether off them.


    ¡®Either I¡¯m getting better at feeling that shit, or they are very powerful.¡¯ I decide to leave removing them to our resident expert once she is done freeing the captives.


    At his belt is a fine leather pouch with a hefty weight to it. I remove it and pocket it.


    ¡®We can use this to be sure of a proper burial for... damnit, why didn¡¯t I ask everyone¡¯s names?¡¯


    The pendant hanging in front of his chest is ornately inscribed with arcane symbols and radiates even more than the rings. I decide enough is enough and head for the tent. As I go, I look to Merl standing near Paolo and watching me conduct my search.


    ¡°Lots of weird magical items on him, Merl. Keep everyone away from him until Elara can be sure it''s safe.¡± He nods.


    ¡°Then I figure it¡¯s a choice of either throwing him on the fire or tossing him outside for the scavengers to feast on,¡± I add.


    Merl gives me a grim look; I can see he agrees with my feelings about this man¡¯s remains. Looking about, I see the others have also taken in my comments. Their stance is still angry but mixed with deep sadness and concern for those who remain chained up.


    The tent is neatly kept, and despite its ragged look from the outside, the interior is clean and well-organised. A low camp bed is to one side, and opposite it is a collection of small items of furniture. A table holds the remains of a cold meal of bread, meats, and cheese, along with a half-emptied glass of what looks like wine. I give it a sniff.


    ¡®Not wine.¡¯ My stomach gives a lurch. ¡®Definitely not wine.'' I quickly put the glass down.


    Alongside the table is a wooden chest, not locked, which is good as I hadn¡¯t found a key on the mage¡¯s body. I carefully open it, ready to leap back if it does anything crazy.


    I¡¯m not really paranoid, ¡®yes, you are...¡¯ I sigh. ¡®Shut up, Del.¡¯ I had just seen too many movies.


    I give a sigh of relief when there are no bangs, no spewing forth of gas, or any one of many possible hazards a mage¡¯s chest might hold.


    Instead, what I find is a collection of bottles and vials of various potions and concoctions; none of which I have the faintest idea of what they do. In the drawers below the vial racks is a large assortment of cut herbs and other plants, along with much stranger items. What appear to be assorted animal parts are stored alongside stones and gems of various colours. In the centre of the chest is an impressive-looking onyx mortar and pestle.


    I close the chest; the thing is heavy and would prove hard to carry out, but the contents make it more than worth it.


    The last piece of furniture consists of a small desk and chair with a lamp burning brightly upon it. On the desk is a quill, ink, and what looks to be a journal.


    Much of the writing inside I can¡¯t read, but what I can makes me curious.


    There is a letter tucked into the front of the book, it seems that the mage was not working alone, or at least, he appeared to have been commissioned to carry out his task here.


    I close the journal and, tucking the letter into my pocket, I grab the sheets off the cot and leave the tent.


    As I come out, I see Elara stand up and wave me over.


    ¡°Have you figured it out?¡± I ask as I get close.


    ¡°It¡¯s some sort of summoning ritual, but I have been able to dissipate the build-up of potential,¡± she smiles tiredly. ¡°Fortunately, it hadn¡¯t advanced too far yet.¡±


    ¡°Can we get them down now, then?¡± I ask and get a nod in reply.


    I look up and wave over Merl, Jake, and Paolo. As they approach, I tear one sheet in half and step over to the semi-naked Vita and Breeda, covering them to preserve whatever dignity they might have left.


    I go to the centre and untie the bindings fixing Emily firmly in place on the altar, and then cover her nakedness before lifting her up, and gently carrying her out of the circle.


    Paolo appears, hovering beside me with concern written all over his face as I lay her on the ground near the fire.


    ¡°I think, from the smell, they have all been heavily dosed with listwort,¡± I tell him. ¡°Once it wears off, they should wake.¡±


    ¡®The scars in their minds may take far longer to heal than the wounds carved into their skin.¡¯


    ¡°They will need lots of care and comforting when they do; they have been through a heck of an ordeal.¡±


    He sits down next to the young woman and gently holds her hand.¡°I understand,¡± he says quietly.


    I stand back up and see that the last of the men being unchained. It is good that the manacles are secured with a simple lock nut, so we don¡¯t need to search for a key. At last, we all gather around the firepit: six sleeping victims, thirteen surviving rescuers, and the sad body of our lost companion, Jason, as I had discovered when I spoke with Jake.


    Misty chooses that moment to reappear, complete with a lizard of some sort, which she proceeds to noisily devour at my feet.


    ¡®Thanks for that, girl,¡¯ I say sarcastically to her.


    ¡®More if you want?¡¯ she replies.


    ¡°Apparently, if anyone is peckish, Misty is more than happy to go get a lizard for lunch, should anyone want one,¡± I say with wry humour.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.The chuckle that results helps to lift the party''s mood a bit.


    I step over to Elara and talk with her quietly as the others minister to the sleeping villagers.


    ¡°Are you OK?¡± I ask, placing my hand on her arm. I can see the tiredness in her every motion. Whatever she had to do to stop the summoning has taken its toll on her.


    ¡°I just need some rest,¡± her answer is not surprising. ¡°What did you find in your search?¡±


    ¡°Lots of magical stuff on him. A chest full of goodies in the tent and a journal I can¡¯t make heads or tails of,¡± she looks interested despite her weariness.


    ¡°Also,¡± I pull out the letter. ¡°This,¡± I add and hand it to her.


    A curious look on her face, she unfolds it and quickly scans its contents.


    ¡°We need to show this to the elder,¡± she states.


    ¡°I know, but let¡¯s get everyone out of here and safely back to the village first.¡± I put the letter back in my pocket.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to see if I can safely retrieve the magic items and see if there is anything else you may have missed,¡± Elara informs me with a smile in her eyes.


    ¡®She is as treasure-happy as a magpie.¡¯


    ¡°You go see how the others are coming along,¡± she adds over her shoulder as she heads off towards the other side of the cavern.


    Though the eyes of the party contain sadness, the look of triumph is brighter. The six sleepers have been made as comfortable as possible, and someone has slathered feldspar onto the carved wounds. These are already healing rapidly and will hopefully only leave faint scars to serve as a lingering reminder of what they have been through.


    I nod in approval and go over to Paolo, where he sits on the floor next to Emily.


    ¡°How is she?¡± I ask him.


    ¡°¡®Comfortable¡¯ is, I guess, the normal term used,¡± he replies. ¡°She isn¡¯t in any pain, and as far as I can tell, she¡¯s just sleeping off the drug¡¯s effects.¡±


    I give his shoulder a squeeze.¡°Once they wake up, we can get out of here, but we can¡¯t lift them up that cliff. They are going to need to manage the climb,¡± I tell him and head over to Merl.


    ¡°We need to have someone go back to town and see if we can get a cart up here,¡± I say. ¡°I think the less we need to ask of the kidnapped ones, the better.¡±


    ¡°Already ahead of you, my friend,¡± he tells me. ¡°Sam¡¯s a fast runner, so he¡¯ll be halfway there by now.¡±


    ¡°Good. Now, I have some food in my pack. There was some in the tent, but I really don¡¯t trust it.¡± I feel a little shudder run through me at the thought of whatever the hell was in that glass.


    ¡°I think we need to eat, take care of personal business, and rest up while we wait for them all to wake up.¡±


    ¡°Agreed,¡± he nods and heads around the group, passing along the planned course of action.


    I am tired, bone-achingly so, and also mentally exhausted. This whole affair is so far outside of my comfort zone that I am beginning to wonder if I even know which way is up anymore.


    I head to the far edge of the cavern for a piss, and following a nudge from Misty, I find a shallow pond a bit further around so I can freshen up a bit.


    The bite of ice-cold water on my face does a lot to put a bit more vigour into me.


    ¡®I just want to sleep for a week and forget all about fucking wizards and bloody fireballs.¡¯


    Kicking a small rock, I head back to the main group by the fire, sit down, and lean back against a small boulder, closing my eyes for a moment.


    I hear that annoying ping start up again as I begin to relax.


    ¡®OK, you bloody arse, what do you want now?¡¯


    [You have progressed on your primary Cuvat: Survive. Points added.]


    OK, nice, the pinging continues. What now?


    [You have learned the skill: Leadership. Try not to get too bossy.]


    [Congratulations, you have enough experience to level up. Would you like to level up now?]


    ¡®Hell yes,¡¯ I think with a smile.


    As my stat sheet opens, I notice I have gained not one but two whole levels.


    ¡®This is more like it, Del,¡¯ I happily congratulate myself.


    I have four points to assign to my stats, so it appears I get two per level.


    I put two onto Strength, one onto Dexterity, and the final one on Intelligence.


    I am completely unsurprised to see Misty has levelled up.


    ¡®Damn moggy is a higher level than me!¡¯ I laugh at her level 5 status.


    I give her a mental nudge. ¡®Hey, girl, when did you get so big?¡¯


    I feel her give a little purring chuckle. ¡®Newt,¡¯ was her simple answer.


    Of course, she fought the dog while I sat talking to Seth.


    ¡®Fair enough, good on you, girl.¡¯


    I have a look through our sheets and am pleased with what I see.


    Name: Del Axholm


    Level: 4


    Path: Archer


    Health: 36


    Strength: 18


    Dexterity: 18


    Stamina: 18


    Intelligence: 12


    Wisdom: 12


    Mana: 24


    Spirit: 24


    Agility: 22


    Presence: 10


    Animal Companion: Misty; feline


    Skills:


    Archery lvl 3 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows


    Woodcraft lvl 3 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.


    Tracking lvl 2 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.


    Traps lvl 1 ¨C Can make basic snares and pit traps.


    Sneak lvl 3 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.


    Herbalism lvl 2 ¨C Can identify and gather basic herbs.


    Skinning lvl 1 ¨C Can manage to crudely strip the skin from a carcass.


    Leadership lvl 1 - Able to command small groups of up to 20.


    Attacks:


    Bow lvl 3 ¨C Simple Shot.


    Sword lvl 3 ¨C Cut, thrust.


    Dagger lvl 2 ¨C Stab, Slash.


    Special Attacks:


    Bow:Sneak attack lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage


    Master Archer lvl 1 ¨C Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.


    Dagger:Backstab lvl 1 ¨C Double damage.


    Name: Misty


    Level: 5


    Path: Feline Companion


    Health: 42


    Strength: 10


    Dexterity: 19


    Stamina: 15


    Intelligence: 10


    Wisdom: 6


    Mana: 25


    Spirit: 15


    Agility: 24


    Presence: 14


    Skills:


    Charm lvl 3 ¨C Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.


    Attacks:


    Claw lvl 4 ¨C Attack with front claws.


    Rake lvl 3 ¨C Double rear leg attack.


    Bite lvl 3 ¨C It¡¯s teeth all the way.


    Special Attacks:


    Pounce lvl 4 ¨C Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause the target to stumble.


    Sneak Pounce lvl 3 ¨C As above; Triple damage.

 Chapter 28 – Back to Stonebridge

    I must have dozed off, as sometime later I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder and open my eyes to see Elara crouched beside me.


    "Hey, sleepy. Looks like Vita is awake and the others are starting to stir.¡±


    I stretch, my back letting me know sleeping on a cave floor was not the ideal choice.


    Looking about, I see others moving quietly. Sat on a chair brought from the tent is Vita, clutching a mug of some steaming drink that she sips from cautiously.


    As I get up, I can¡¯t help but notice that my steps feel looser, my body a bit more supple.


    ¡®Is this because those point things are starting to have an effect?¡¯ I would have to consider this further at a later point. ¡®Makes sense, Misty¡¯s increase of intelligence is pretty damned obvious.¡¯


    I look at Elara standing there with me.


    ¡°Shall we go see how she is doing?¡± I say, and we walk over to her.


    All things considered, Vita looks better than I imagine I would, had I been in her place. Sure, she¡¯s dusty and grimy from her ordeal, and her hair is a mess. But her eyes sparkle with that mix of curiosity and humour that had marked her when we first met at her cottage.


    She watches us approach and smiles a tired welcome.


    ¡°I gather I have you two to thank for a lot of the effort of finding us before things went too far here.¡±


    ¡°Elara found Naomi. She was the key to solving things,¡± I tell her.


    ¡°Yes, Naomi,¡± Vita muses. ¡°Paolo told me about her gift, a very rare talent indeed.¡±


    I nod in agreement as Elara gives Vita more details about encountering the girl and helping her gift come out.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know much of the higher magics,¡± Vita tells us. ¡°My speciality is more to do with alchemy and cantrips around the healing arts. She was lucky you were there to help her, or else she may never have fully developed it.¡± She shakes her head.


    ¡°My own, small talent was not found until I was near puberty. I met a travelling healer who sensed something in me and took me on as an apprentice. Without him, my abilities would have fled into the ether as so many do when a body changes from child to adult.¡±


    From the rising noise of conversation and movement around the area, I am made aware of the others now awake, also supping on steaming cups of herbal tea.


    Breeda is talking with Merl, who has a gentle hand holding hers as she speaks. Sean, Will, and Silas are talking animatedly with the group gathered around Jake, with lots of arm waving and gesticulation as I catch snippets of their stories. Paolo sits on a low rock, his arm around Emily¡¯s shoulder as he quietly talks with her and listens to her tale.


    ¡®I reckon this is just the start of the unpacking this lot are going to go through.¡¯ The thought saddens me, but it¡¯s the reality of life that trauma causes scars, the depth of which can only be measured by time¡¯s passage.


    I zone back into the conversation between Vita and Elara. They are still discussing Naomi. Vita, as forthright as she originally impressed me with, is agreeing to help her family accept that Naomi will need to head to a bigger town or city to find a trainer, sooner rather than later.


    Misty wanders over to them, jumps onto Vita¡¯s lap, and presents the lizard she brought as a gift. Vita¡¯s laughter rings around the cave, lifting the mood of the small group of tired villagers.


    Paolo stands up and indicates that we should start to make a move back to the quarry.


    ¡°Elara,¡± I ask, ¡°did you manage to recover everything from the mage and his tent?¡±


    She nods. ¡°All safe, though they will need proper looking at. I have the small items, but the staff and chest will need someone else to carry them out of here.¡±


    Agreeing, I give Merl a shout, and with him and Jake, we head over to the tent as the rest get ready to move out.


    Merl and Jake take the chest between them, and I grab the cloak-wrapped staff. Even through its covering, I can feel the tingle of its power resonating deep within me, making me shudder a little.


    Joining Elara and Vita at the rear of the group, we are soon out of the dark passageway and emerging into the quarry. The rocks glint with silver, lit by the glow of the moon shining down from above.


    At the ledge above the ladder, I see Lars standing and waving down to us.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.¡°The wagon just arrived,¡± I hear him shout, which causes the general pace across the quarry floor to pick up as thoughts of getting home take centre stage in everyone¡¯s mind.


    ¡°We will need to rig up a hoist to lift up this damn chest,¡± Jake grunts.


    ¡°No kidding,¡± Merl agrees. ¡°Give me an angry horse''s hoof or a hot lump of metal to lift any day over this.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t figure how he got this thing down there in the first place,¡± Jake continues.


    ¡°Has to have been magic, same as the people he took down there,¡± Merl puffs out.


    Their complaints are more jest than frustration. Despite their grumbling, the banter is laced with good-natured humour. These were men shaped by hardship, accustomed to living life fully no matter what challenges came their way.


    At the foot of the cliff, we sort the order for ascent. While it is strong, rope ladders can feel unstable to those not used to them, so special care is taken with Breeda as the oldest one here.


    ¡®She should be in bed with cocoa, not climbing 50 feet of granite in the middle of the night.¡¯


    In the end, we send Jake up first, then Breeda with Merl behind but so close he is almost on the same rung as her, his presence a shield to stop her if she slips. Once they are safely up, the rest follow, each of the rescued led and followed by a rescuer. Sam carefully ascends, carrying Jason¡¯s body on his back. Then Elara and Vita go up, with me as the last to leave the pit floor.


    When I get to the top, I see that Merl has already rigged up a basic pulley, while Jake and Will have rigged up a simple frame from branches to run it over.


    ¡®Ok idiot, back down you go.¡¯ I pass the staff into Elara¡¯s keeping and head back down. Once there, I grab the rope that is thrown down and attach it to the chest.


    ¡®You would forget your own damn head if it wasn¡¯t firmly attached.¡¯


    As it is pulled slowly up, I climb alongside it to ensure it doesn¡¯t get stuck on a rocky outcropping.


    Now all at the top, we load the wagon with Jason¡¯s body, the chest, and an exhausted Breeda before beginning to make our way back to Stonebridge.


    Our return to Stonebridge is met with the bark of a dog and little else. The village sleeps, and the creak of the wagon does nothing to disturb the night. The single guard on watch opens the gate as we approach, gives Paolo a simple nod, then goes back to his duty of manning his post, closing up the simple barrier once we have passed.


    I see another of the town guards walking the street on the other side of the square as we unload there. With simple farewells, various hugs, and handshakes, everyone heads off to their homes. We arrange to see Paolo in the morning to discuss everything, then head with Jake and Vita back to the inn. Vita has decided to stay in the village for a couple of days to allow herself time to recover and also be on hand should any of the others be in need of her.


    I lift the chest on my shoulder for the walk to the inn and see Jake give me an odd look, but I shrug it off. I am too tired to worry about stuff now. Tomorrow can bring tomorrow¡¯s problems once it is good and ready.


    Getting into the inn¡¯s inviting warmth, I accept an ale from Jake and drink deeply from the cup.


    ¡°That was a hell of a night¡¯s work,¡± Jake says, taking his own mug and sitting with me.


    I nod and look down at the foaming suds. ¡°We got them all back, though,¡± I add with a small, tired smile.


    ¡°Indeed we did, all apart from poor Jason,¡± he says, his tone heavy. ¡°But we got that bastard. He won¡¯t be stealing or killing anyone else.¡± His words carry strength despite both our tired states.


    I finish the last of my pint and stand.


    ¡°We can try and figure out what the fuck this was all about tomorrow, my friend.¡± I pat him on the back as I pass. ¡°But for now, I need my bed.¡±


    ¡°G¡¯night, Del.¡± He looks up at me, ¡°and thanks.¡±


    I make my way up, following where Elara and Vita went a while before, and enter my room.


    Clothes litter the floor wherever they fell, and her boots are thrown carelessly to one side. Elara lies sprawled across the bed with Misty curled up beside her.


    I smile ruefully.


    ''We got back safe, girls, and neither of you the worse for it.¡¯ As I undress myself just as untidily, I consider our next move.


    ¡®Now we just need to figure out the whys and wherefores, Del, cross a few I¡¯s and dot a couple of T¡¯s.¡¯


    I roll the gently snoring elf over to make room and climb in. My eyes close, and I am asleep before my head hits the pillow.

 Chapter 29 – You got the Night Man

    I wake up slowly; it isn¡¯t that I am reluctant to get up, it¡¯s more that I don¡¯t want to wake the two snoozing beside me. At some point in the night, Misty has changed position and is now curled up part on my shoulder, part tucked into my neck. Her soft purring breaths are a comfort after the recent events.


    The other sleeping form is Elara, who has rolled over and is now snuggled close to me. Her arm is across my chest, her leg over mine.


    ¡®It feels nice but,¡¯ I consider how best to extract myself. ¡®I really need the bathroom.¡¯


    As I start to shift and slide out, she opens sleepy eyes, then moves a little to free me. Glancing at the window, I see it¡¯s still before sunrise. ¡®Damn beer before bed waking me up,¡¯ I growl.


    I get done and climb back into bed. ¡®Another hour or so.¡¯ I roll onto my side, and Misty gives me a huffy look before prancing over to get comfortable once more. Elara rolls into my back and throws an arm back over me. I am just drifting off when I feel the soft touch of lips gently kiss the back of my neck.


    Donna serves breakfast to us as we sit in the common room with Jake and Merl, who had come in shortly after we came downstairs.


    ¡°I thought I might join you for some of Donna¡¯s bacon,¡± he had said.


    The conversation is a vivid dissection of last night¡¯s events.


    ¡°I need to go see Paolo later,¡± I tell them. ¡°We still need to finish getting to the bottom of all this mess so it doesn¡¯t happen again.¡±


    Vita comes down and pulls up a chair to join us. We soon catch her up with the conversation so far.


    ¡°I need to see Paolo as well,¡± she says. ¡°So if it¡¯s alright, I will join you when you go.¡±


    ¡°Of course, I also have some things I need you to look at when you are up to it.¡±


    We finish eating and then head up with Vita in tow.


    ¡°So, what do you have for me to look at?¡± she asks as we get into the room.


    I indicate the chest.


    ¡°I believe much of the contents fall into your line of work, so I would really appreciate it if you could help us figure out what is what,¡± I say as I open the lid.


    She raises her eyebrows at the myriad vials, bottles, and other assorted goods within.


    ¡°This man was either an accomplished alchemist himself or else spent a lot of money to stock this.¡± She begins to pluck bottles and vials from the racks, studying each, swirling the contents, looking carefully at them through the light of the window, before carefully easing the stoppers and giving a cautious sniff.


    One or two even lead her to put a small drop on her finger and taste it with the tip of her tongue.


    As I watch her work, I notice Elara observing closely, almost buzzing with a dozen questions, held in check to avoid disturbing Vita¡¯s careful study.


    At last, she looks up from where she is sitting on the floor beside the chest.


    ¡°So, what do you want to know?¡± She shakes her head at the chest. ¡°To be honest, there are some things in here I would need to thoroughly investigate, to figure out what you have.¡±


    ¡°The basics first.¡± She indicates a collection of six bottles containing a clear liquid, perhaps a half-pint in each. ¡°This is pure water. Pure water is a highly refined water infused with mana, and it¡¯s used to dilute and create potions. These alone would set you back three silver a bottle to buy.¡±


    I let out a low whistle.


    ¡°Indeed, alchemy is not a cheap activity to practice,¡± she says seriously. Indicating some other half-pint bottles, she describes them as various acids and alkalis, all solutions for distilling ingredients to extract the essential elements from the base material.


    ¡°If you want to get the best from something to make a potent potion or poultice, then you need to be able to extract these elements. Of course, you can just crush up a herb and slap it on, and it will have an effect of sorts, but the properly prepared product is what you really need.¡±


    I think of my mashed-up feldspar from when I first wound up here. ¡®Medicine man you sure were not my old chum,¡¯ I smile at the memory.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The rest of the racks are full of much smaller vials, many containing just a sip or two. The final tally gives us five healing potions, one being very strong and able to deal with truly life-threatening situations, three vigour potions which she tells me would refresh a tired body back to full ability. There are also two potions to increase strength to the point of being able to carry far more for a period, though she doesn¡¯t know how long and guesses at maybe an hour. That leaves seven vials that she can¡¯t recognise and would need more research.


    ¡°Are either of you intending to start learning alchemy?¡± she asks us.


    I shake my head. Although I have learned some basic herbalism, alchemy isn¡¯t in my plans for now.


    ¡°I am interested in it at some point,¡± Elara says. ¡°But I need to concentrate on my nature magic first. Once I am proficient, then it may be something I branch into as I could then make the herbs so much better and stronger.¡± She looks at the array before us with a hint of regret.


    ¡°In that case, if you want to consider it, I can offer you a potion pouch that can safely hold up to twenty potions and a collection of pastes and powders.¡± She rummages through the collection of ingredients again, doing a quick tally. ¡°Plus, twenty-one gold and six silver for the chest and the remaining contents. You keep as many of the potions already made as you want, and I will throw in a couple of pots of feldspar paste as well.¡±


    I look at Elara. ¡®Is that a good deal? I sure don¡¯t want to have to lug that damned chest around with us.¡¯


    ¡°You have a better idea of the value of this sort of thing than I do,¡± I tell her.


    Misty strolls over and rubs up against Vita, getting the desired pets from the bonesetter.


    ¡®Trust,¡¯ she tells me.


    At the same time, Elara nods her agreement. ¡°It¡¯s a fair price, Del, more than fair to be frank.¡±


    I take a moment, looking at the chest, its contents somewhat spread around us.


    ¡®That money will come in very handy; I doubt the city is as reasonable in cost as a small village.¡¯


    I offer Vita my hand. ¡°It looks like you have a deal, Vita. Now let''s get this packed back away and go see Paolo.¡±


    A little later, as we cross the village square, we get lots of waves and greetings from the villagers. All of the mistrust and dark looks we had noticed before are conspicuous in their absence. ¡®I wonder why that is,¡¯ I can¡¯t help but reflect on. ¡®Seems they don¡¯t have an issue with elves anymore.¡¯


    I see a small shape come charging up towards us, and Naomi barrels into Elara¡¯s arms in a great big hug.


    ¡°Mummy told me you got the Night Man,¡± she exclaims excitedly.


    ¡°And we couldn¡¯t have done it without you,¡± Elara laughs as she hugs the girl back. ¡°Now you run along; we have to go see the elder.¡±


    Squirming a bit, Naomi jumps down and runs off.


    ¡°Nate, Nate, I know where you are hiding,¡± her voice rings out as she disappears around a corner.


    ¡°I bet she is cheating,¡± Elara chuckles, watching her run off.


    Paolo¡¯s office is a bustle of activity, with Paolo in an animated discussion with one of his aides. On seeing us, he immediately disengages and comes across, hand outstretched in greeting.


    Grasping hands firmly, he bids us an enthusiastic welcome, giving Elara a quick hug and then holding both of Vita¡¯s hands as he looks her up and down.


    ¡°You look much better than when we parted last night, my dear woman. How are you feeling?¡±


    ¡°I have been better, Elder,¡± she responds, ¡°and will be so again.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Paolo enthuses. ¡°Now, come this way; we have much to talk about.¡±


    We are ushered through the room and into his office. Closing the door behind us, he indicates some chairs around a low coffee table.


    ¡°Sit, sit.¡± He pulls a cord, and a young face peeks into the room. ¡°Can you get us a pot of tea and some biscuits, please, Sara.¡± As her face disappears, he explains, ¡°I have given Emily a couple of days off to recover, so she is staying with her brother for now.¡±


    ¡°Are the others all managing to get back on their feet?¡± I ask him.


    ¡°Breeda will need some time; if you could look in on her, I would be grateful,¡± he says to Vita. ¡°The lads were all raring to get back to work and check on what had happened while they were gone. I think the tavern will be full tonight.¡±


    ¡®A rowdy mix of tall tales, adventures, and relief, no doubt. Sounds like a blast.¡¯ I agree; tonight will be one for letting the hair down and getting drunk.


    ¡°Do you yet have any idea what it was all about?¡± he asks us, getting down to business.


    My face serious, I nod in affirmation.


    ¡°I found some sort of journal, though I can¡¯t read it.¡± I pull the leather-bound book out of my pack.


    ¡°May I?¡± Vita asks, holding out her hand. I pass it to her, and she opens it and starts to carefully go through it.


    I then pull out the letter I had also found and read it out loud.


    Ishmael,


    In the cavern of ¡®Ithnor¡¯ complete the circle and initiate the Rite of Krator.


    Find suitable conduits and be ready to complete the process on the new moon of Shoole.


    The heaving will come early this time.


    They will not be ready.


    C


    As I finish reading, I see that Vita is staring at me, the journal lying in her lap. Paolo is pale, his eyes flitting about.


    ¡°What in all the demons¡¯ hells¡­¡± he splutters. ¡°Vita, do you know of these things? What does it mean?¡±


    ¡°I know little of these things,¡± she admits sadly. ¡°I would imagine that the cavern of ¡®Ithnor¡¯ is the name of the place where you rescued us.¡±


    ¡°The Rite of Krator must be what he was preparing for, and the new moon of Shoole is in two days,¡± Elara adds.


    ¡°Bringing in the heaving at least twenty years ahead of when it''s expected would have been a disaster,¡± concludes Paolo.


    "We are indeed in your debt,¡± he says, looking towards Elara and me. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t turned up, I doubt we would ever have got to the bottom of things in time.¡±


    I notice that Vita, after giving me a look of silent agreement with the elder¡¯s words, has gone back to looking at the journal.


    [Quest completed: experience gained. Renown gained in Village of Stonebridge.]


    ¡°Most of this I can¡¯t read.¡± Her tone is resigned. ¡°Mages use a different sort of arcane to alchemists.¡±


    ¡®I guess you all like to protect your secrets.¡¯


    She continues flipping through the pages. ¡°From the layout, it¡¯s a spell book of some type.¡±


    She reaches the centre. On one side is a large arcane symbol, the other covered in indecipherable script.


    Her gasp is loud in the room and makes me jump.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I ask, leaning forward.


    She points at the symbol, her head shaking as if to negate what she sees.


    ¡°This sign, I know it.¡± I don¡¯t think I had ever heard such distaste in her voice before.


    ¡°It is the mark of Zelore.¡±

 Chapter 30 – Baths ad baubles

    ¡®Who or what the fuck is Zelore?¡¯ I couldn¡¯t help feeling I had just been served another curveball. ¡®I really need to find out more simple, basic facts about this damn place.¡¯


    The symbol appeared to be an eclipse of the sun, only in the centre of the moon covering our closest star, a skull stared out through empty eyes. All in all, it was quite a creepy-looking thing.


    ¡°He is the god of the Underdark, among other things,¡± Elara comments. ¡°So it¡¯s not that surprising if this was something intended to trigger an early heaving.¡±


    I let out a contented breath. ¡®Thanks, lass, you don¡¯t know it, but you just came to the rescue yet again.¡¯


    ¡°It certainly seems to corroborate the letter, seeing that in his journal,¡± I add.


    Paolo nods and looks towards me. ¡°You said you were planning on going on towards Stenfield?¡±


    I nod as I continue to try and make sense of the jumble of confusion that is the journal.


    ¡°Excellent, then may I give you a letter to deliver to the Laird of Stenfield? We fall under her jurisdiction here, and she will need to be informed.¡±


    ¡°It might also be good for you to escort Naomi,¡± Vita adds. ¡°She trusts you, and her father, Mr Cooper, has seen both of you prove more than capable of looking after her.¡±


    ¡°I shall speak to her parents later and advise them that she needs to go and find a teacher,¡± Paolo confirms.


    ¡°I am sure we can take the letter,¡± I agree. ¡°But Naomi? I¡¯m not sure if¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh hush,¡± Elara interrupts. ¡°I can manage one little girl, and I can help teach her along the way as well.¡±


    ¡®Outnumbered and outgunned again, Del,¡¯ I wistfully concede with a nod of assent.


    ¡°Fine, we shall plan to leave tomorrow. That gives us today to gather supplies and have another of Donna¡¯s amazing dinners.¡±


    With everything sorted and agreed, I gather up the journal and letter as we get ready to leave.


    ¡°I shall have the letter run over to the inn later on today. For now, I need to go see the Coopers,¡± Paolo tells us. ¡°Vita, could you possibly come with me? You will be able to explain the reason she needs to go far better than I.¡±


    The rest of the day is spent with casual browsing of the market; the atmosphere is, as usual, bustling with the noise and aromas I have come to enjoy.


    ¡®I really don¡¯t miss the hum of traffic,¡¯ I consider as we walk through the square.


    We manage to acquire a couple of small tents and some dried foods. I also pick up some fresh fish for Misty. ¡®Where has that damned cat got herself off to now?¡¯ I idly wonder.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to have a long bath before dinner,¡± I am informed by Elara, who then gives an overly dramatic sniff. ¡°You could do with one too.¡± She laughs and dodges away from my playful slap in reply.


    Getting back to the Cock and Ball, Elara asks Jake for a bath, and he whistles to get his lad¡¯s attention, and all is soon organised. It¡¯s only a moment before I have a tray heaped with a couple of platters of bread and cold cuts for lunch along with some of the steaming herbal tea that seems so popular here.


    ¡°We have a few bits to organise, so I think we will have lunch in our room,¡± I tell Jake.


    He gives a simple nod and gets on with wiping down the bar¡¯s already pristine counter.


    As I get to the room, the lad is leaving with his empty buckets and holds the door open for me to enter.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I acknowledge, and then kick it closed behind me.


    I set the tray down, briefly admire Elara¡¯s lithe form as she slips into the deep copper bath, then start to pull out vials from the pouch Vita had given us.


    ¡®Time to see exactly what we have here.¡¯


    ¡®Identify¡¯


    Potion of minor healing: A basic healing potion able to heal minor wounds and stop bleeding.¡®The four of them will be good when feldspar isn¡¯t enough.¡¯You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Potion of major healing: A powerful potion, able to heal major fractures, restore lost limbs and regenerate damaged internal organs.¡®Only the one, but it could prove crucial at some point.¡¯


    Potion of Stamina renewal: Restores stamina to 75% of maximum.¡®These three will come in handy.¡¯


    Potion of minor strengthening: Gives a 40% strength boost for 1 hour.We had two.


    I decided to look at the vials Vita didn¡¯t know.


    Two remained unidentifiable, but the others were:


    Two, Potions of climbing: Climb sheer walls easily; Duration 2 minutes.


    Potion of air: Able to remain underwater or in noxious air for 5 minutes.¡®I have no idea what we will use these three for, but very useful.¡¯


    The final vial I could identify was the most interesting.


    Potion of stealth: Become intangible to the point of almost invisibility. Caution; sound is not obscured. Duration 10 minutes or until combat.


    [Congratulations, your identify skill has increased to improved identify.]


    At that point, there is a small thump as a ginger furball jumps in the window and lands on the floor.


    I feel her nudge of greeting as she saunters over to sniff at the bottles.¡®So where have you been then, little minx?¡¯ I ask. Giving me a look only a feline can, she loses interest in the potions and heads for the bed.¡®Exploring.¡¯ is her simple answer, as if of course. What else would she be doing?


    I glance over to Elara, just the top of her head visible over the copper rim.¡°That water will go cold and wrinkle your skin,¡± I tell her.


    ¡°I know,¡± she says. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a wonderful thing though? Nothing beats a long soak.¡±


    Having little else to do, and with my just upgraded Identify skill, I decide to take a look at some of the other things we had picked up along the way.


    It was disappointing, but most appeared to still be beyond my meagre ability. All except one ring¡ªthe first magical ring I had managed to get from the brigand who had slain Lucas.


    In appearance, it was overly large and far too gaudy for my normal taste. Its faint tingle of magic was what set it apart when we found it, and fear of a curse had led us to keep it tucked away until we could figure out its use.


    I carefully unwrapped it, expecting to get another unidentifiable result as with all the other acquired items.


    ¡®Identify¡¯


    Minor ring of holding: A space to hide your stuff, can hold up to 20lb, approximately 2 feet in diameter and 3 feet deep. Items placed in can be retrieved by inspecting the contents.


    ¡®Now we are talking,¡¯ I chuckle.


    ¡°You are laughing to yourself again, Del. What have you come across now?¡± Elara¡¯s voice lazily lifts from the tub.


    ¡°I¡¯m not, and who says I found something?¡±


    I watch as her head lifts above the edge to peer at me.


    ¡°I am convinced you talk more to yourself than you do to me or Misty,¡± she tells me with a grin. ¡°Now, what has made you so pleased with yourself?¡±


    ¡°Remember that big, lumpy ring we got from the arsehole who killed Lucas? I have managed to identify what it does.¡±


    Her eyes light up, and with a splash of water spray, she is out of the bath and crouched beside me. ¡°What?¡± she eagerly asks.


    I try not to get distracted by this naked woman dripping water onto the floor beside me.


    ¡°It seems it¡¯s some sort of hidden storage item.¡± I hold it out for her to look at and get up to grab a towel and drape it over her shoulders.


    ¡®Del, you are too much of a fucking gentleman to handle this,¡¯ I briefly close my eyes in mild exasperation. ¡®Like fuck, you are just too out of touch and friggin nervous to know how to handle her.¡¯


    I have to agree with myself, I contemplate; as I explain what I have discovered with the potions and the ring.


    It¡¯s been almost 20 years since my last relationship went south, since then nothing to speak of but the occasional hook-up of two lonely people at a bar.¡®And it¡¯s got to be coming up ten years since I last went to a bar.¡¯


    ¡°So how does it work?¡± Her excited question brings me back to the moment.


    I glance her way and quickly back at the ring.¡®Damnit, girl.¡¯ She was standing, towelling dry, and as I looked up my head was level with her waist.


    ¡°From what I can figure, I can sort of probe it with my mind and get out whatever is in there. Putting stuff in it is pretty much the reverse.¡±


    I slide the ring onto my finger and feel a sort of bubbling blip briefly in my gut. That place I was beginning to associate with mana.¡®Now let¡¯s see.¡¯


    ¡®Menu.¡¯ Nothing.


    ¡®Contents.¡¯ Nope.


    ¡®Ring?¡¯ This is getting frustrating.


    ¡®Just show me what you are damn well holding,¡¯ I mentally exclaim.


    And in my mind, a panel opens, a series of four boxes. Each is labelled with a short item name or description of what it is.


    One contains a pile of coins: 15 gold; the next, a pair of Daggers of Venom; a stack of 30 trail rations was in the third, and a letter of passage in the last.


    I pulled the letter of passage out after a minute of trying random commands on it.


    ¡®Why don¡¯t these bloody things come with instruction manuals,¡¯ I grouse as I finally pull it out. ¡®You daft old soak, when was the last time you ever read a flipping manual?¡¯


    ¡°Not much in there,¡± I tell her as I open the letter.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± she asks as she returns, dressed, to sit beside me.


    ¡°A letter of passage, apparently.¡±


    ¡°To the honourable Laird of Stenfield.


    The bearer of this missive is on urgent business under the protection of King Reinhold III.


    I would urge you to assist him with every haste to pass and continue on to the high mountains.


    Please grant him supplies he may need and furnish him with directions for the safest path.


    Your humble servant,


    Sindar Threll; 2nd Minister to the Council of 12.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing that the supplies in the ring belonged to the original owner of the ring and that our long-dead robbers never figured out this ring''s properties.¡±


    Elara nods in agreement. ¡°If they had, then surely what was in there would be long gone and the ring filled with their loot.¡±


    I return the letter to the ring.¡°Apart from that, there was a bit of gold, some daggers, and trail rations.¡±


    ¡°Well, there is little we can do for the person who the ring belonged to, but when we get to Stenfield, it looks like we have more than one thing to tell the laird,¡± she observes.


    I pull out the two daggers, and they slip neatly into two of the empty spots on my knife bandolier. One can never know when a bit of extra lethality will be useful in this place.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go eat,¡± I suggest.


    ¡°Nope, I am going downstairs to have a hot tea. You are not having anything more until you have bathed.¡±


    And with that order, she pinches her nose in dramatic exaggeration and flounces out of the room.


    ¡®Women,¡¯ I sniff my armpits. ¡®Seriously, I¡¯m not that bad.¡¯


    I shrug off my gear, and shivering as I step into the now cold water, slip into the bath for my own soak time.

 Chapter 31 – A mincing two-step

    We talked long into the night. The bar room had been buzzing, with many a glass raised both to the memory of Jason and to the courage of those who made up the rescuers and the rescued. For the majority of the night, the barrel had been cracked by Jake with no charge to his patrons. It was a great gesture on his part and had resulted in many staggering home on wobbly legs, with not a few simply curling up in a corner of the taproom to sleep off their indulgence.


    Once Merl had left and the bar was finally quietening down, I turned to Elara and asked if she was ready to head up. With a nod, she stood and headed for the stairs while I went to bid goodnight to Jake.


    My own legs were not exactly steady as I went up, but I had important stuff to discuss with Elara before we stopped for the night.


    ¡®You are a total dufus, Del, try one fewer drinks next time.¡¯ I slip a little on a stair and grit my teeth as I bang my shin.


    ¡®Yeah, like that¡¯s going to happen when it¡¯s a free bar.¡¯


    Elara is already in bed, the rather unladylike snores coming from her tell me the drink had affected her as much as everyone else. I smile and climb into the bed, giving her a bit of a shove so she rolls over and makes room.


    I woke groggily; it was too stuffy, too hot, and I was tangled in legs and blankets. Managing to extract myself, I head down the corridor to deal with the normal result of a large fluid intake needing to be let out. It was still dark outside, and the inn was quiet¡ªif you ignored the chorus of grunts and snores filtering up the stairs from below. As I get back to our room, I am passed by a towel-clad Elara doing her own mincing full-bladder two-step towards the bathroom.


    ¡®Glad I¡¯m not the only one waking early to empty out.¡¯ I grin.


    When she got back, I had already reorganised the mess that was our bed, covers straightened and one of the pillows picked up off the floor. I¡¯m sat up in bed, feeling too awake to get back to sleep immediately, my mind churning with what needed doing and still trying to figure all the bits I didn¡¯t know.


    She threw aside the towel and, with a shiver, jumped back into bed and cuddled up to me.


    ¡®What is it with women that they think us poor men are their personal hot water bottles?¡¯ I try to wriggle slightly as I totally fail to create a little air gap between my warming body and her chilled skin.


    Inside, I am totally battling with myself.


    ¡®I need to say something to her.¡¯ The thought makes me wince.


    ¡®Del, you are a coward and a fool.¡¯ I look into myself, reflectively.


    ¡®Don¡¯t be so damned critical. I just don¡¯t want to say something out of place.¡¯ I reassure my ego.


    ¡®Fucking idiot, you have a naked girl cuddling into you and you don¡¯t want to h¡ª''


    ¡°Are you talking with yourself again?¡± Her head tilts up to look at me.


    I jump a little.¡°What makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°You always breathe a little funny and also sometimes give little grunts and things when you do,¡± she answers matter-of-factly. Her eyes are smiling.


    ¡°I have an uncle who does the same thing all the time.¡±


    ¡®See, fool, now you are just some mad old uncle figure.¡¯


    ¡°I guess I have been living alone too long,¡± I tell her.


    ¡°So what were you discussing this time?¡± Amusement in her voice.


    ¡®Just fucking talk to her.¡¯


    I can¡¯t help but notice the way her hand is gently tracing small trails through my chest hair as we talk.


    ¡®It might make her upset. What the fuck am I supposed to say?¡¯ I subtly adjust my position, hoping she doesn¡¯t notice the effect the feel of her body against mine and her hand¡¯s movement is having.


    ¡®Just damn well talk to her!¡¯


    She looks up at me, concern in her eyes. ¡°Have I done something wrong? Are you cross with me?¡±


    I can see that my silence was upsetting her, causing her to doubt herself. That just wasn¡¯t fair when it was me that had the problem.


    ¡°No, not at all. I am just a bit cross with myself is all.¡± I feel her relax again.


    ¡®You, Del, are pathetic.¡¯


    ¡°But can I ask you something?¡± My voice cautious. ¡°But only if it won¡¯t upset you.¡±


    She rolls back more to her side and props her head up so she can look at me properly.¡°You can ask me anything, Del, and why would you upset me?¡±


    I take a deep breath to compose myself, though I can feel my heart nervously beating. I feel like some bloody fool teen plucking the nerve to ask a crush out on a prom date.


    ¡°I¡¯m new to Gondowa, as you know, and you are the first elf I have ever met, so I am very unsure of customs and things.¡±


    She nods solemnly.


    ¡°Is nudity a thing among elves, or in general on the mainland? It¡¯s just where I am from, well, it¡¯s only usual in more intimate circumstances.¡±


    She looks a bit puzzled for a moment, then gives a tinkling little laugh.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know among humans as I haven¡¯t met many till now, but for elves¡­¡± She shrugs. ¡°It depends on circumstances.¡± She frowned, then tossed the covers aside.


    ¡°Why? Does my body displease you?¡± Her humour now mixed with a hint of concern.


    I grab the sheets to stop them from uncovering me and pull them back up.


    ¡°Not at all, Elara. You are a beautiful woman.¡± I can feel my cheeks heating as I try to find the words.


    ¡°Look, I will be blunt. I am older than you, and in my life, I have lain with a number of women, and frankly, if I was sharing a bed, it was seldom just for sleep.¡±


    I see her cheeks starting to blush a little.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.¡°I find you very attractive, but¡­ I won¡¯t take advantage of you being here with me. I just don¡¯t know the rules.¡±


    She stays silent, contemplating me for a bit.


    ¡®I bet she is having her own indoor argument now,¡¯ my inner voice gloats.


    ¡®Shut up, you damn twat.¡¯


    ¡°With elves,¡± she begins, ¡°nudity is not abnormal. We dress or not according to weather, company, and circumstance.¡± She shrugs and glances down at her own exposed breasts.


    ¡°However, it does also have sexual connotations in the right circumstances. This is also normal and natural.¡±


    ¡°So is your nudity and freedom one of circumstance and company or one of a sexual nature?¡± I ask quietly, feeling the nerves once more creeping up.


    ¡°Does my body make you feel uncomfortable?¡± she asks.


    I consider this for a moment.¡°No, not in itself,¡± I chuckle gently.


    ¡°I would be lying if I tried to say I didn¡¯t enjoy it. But¡­ I need to know in what manner I am to take it.¡±


    She lifts a finger of the hand supporting her head to her lips in thought.


    ¡°When I first met you, my reaction was one of gratitude. You saved me, quite literally. If you hadn¡¯t come when you did, I would have been dinner for those green bastards.¡±


    I nod and remain silent. It¡¯s her turn to talk, and she deserves my full attention.


    ¡°As I travelled with you, I learned you were both wise and a fool. You knew so much and also so little. But, in here¡±¡ªshe pokes my chest¡ª¡°you are a good and honest man.¡± She gives herself a little nod, as if to confirm her thoughts.


    ¡°You have proved time and again to me your own values, and yes, I do find that attractive. I am comfortable with you, so my body doesn¡¯t need to be unnecessarily covered. But I also get a bit of a thrill¡±¡ªat this, a small teasing laugh escapes her¡ª¡°when I catch you sneaking a look.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to seem like a perv,¡± I say in defence. ¡°But you are pleasing to look at.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what a perv is, but I am not ashamed for you to enjoy looking at me.¡± Her humour is now very obvious as she rolls onto her back and stretches languidly.


    ¡°Hey, not fair,¡± I say, also laughing softly.


    She rolls back to her side and looks at me again, her playful expression replaced by a more thoughtful one.


    ¡°As for sexually,¡± her tone is now serious, ¡°am I allowed to say, I don¡¯t know?¡±


    I remain quiet to let her finish expressing her thoughts.


    ¡°In elves, although we reach physical maturity by around 18 to 20, we are not considered adults until we reach 40. It is rare to engage in sexual activity before this¡ªnot unheard of, but rare.¡± She pauses, collecting her thoughts.¡°Also, communion between elves and other races is considered something of a taboo. Once again, not unheard of, but it usually results in the elf involved being excluded from society and shunned.¡±


    I start, ¡°I couldn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    She places a finger on my lips, shushing me.


    ¡°I find you attractive, but to consider more¡­ I need to be very sure of where I am within myself before that could become a possibility. Do you understand? I trust you, and I know you respect me for who I am.¡±


    ¡°Of course I do,¡± I confirm to her.


    ¡°So can we just carry on as we are and leave the future to look after itself?¡± she asks me, a touch nervously.


    In answer, I reach over and pull her back into our earlier snuggle.


    ¡°Let''s get a bit more sleep before we have to get up for breakfast.¡± I reach and turn down the lamp as she sighs contentedly and wriggles into a more comfortable position.


    She gives me a soft kiss on my neck.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispers as we both drift back off to sleep.


    The morning comes before I am properly ready for it. I still feel tired, but more content now after our nocturnal conversation. I get up and give her a gentle shove.


    ¡°Wake up, sleepy head, time for breakfast.¡±


    Misty turns to look at me from where she had been watching a bird in the tree outside our window.


    ¡®We hunt now?¡¯ she asks.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± I laugh. ¡°We have a long trip ahead, and I am sure there will be lots to hunt on the way.¡±


    Giving a stretch, my ginger furball jumps down and follows me out of the room.


    The smell from downstairs is enticing and draws us onwards. In the bar, most of the revellers have either left or are sat at tables tucking into Donna¡¯s breakfast fayre.


    ¡°Hash, eggs, and sausage today,¡± she tells me as she delivers a plate for me and the usual heaping for Misty.


    ¡®Where do you put it all?¡¯ I wonder. She just gives me a look.


    There is no sign of Jake, so I assume he is either at the market or Donna has given him a bit of a lie-in after last night''s revelry.


    Once we have finished¡ªElara just having toast and herbal tea¡ªwe head out and over to Paolo¡¯s, where we are meeting up with the Coopers before heading off.


    Naomi looks full of excitement at the impending adventure, while her mum and dad look pensive, and I can see a few carefully held-back tears threatening the corners of Mrs Cooper¡¯s eyes.


    Paolo is stood by a pack of supplies, and Merl is also there with a selection of items.


    He hands me a bundle¡ªa finely made sword along with two knives, one for fighting, the other more utilitarian. As I start to ask how much, his look silences me. He gives Elara a new quiver full of arrows along with a bow much more suited to her stature than the goblin offcast she had been using.


    With our small party ordered, we head to the southern gate.


    Ahead lies the road to the City of Stenfield.


    ¡°It¡¯s about a week to Stenfield, and you will pass through Hybern on the way,¡± Paolo tells me as he grasps my hand.


    Looking at Naomi, ¡°maybe slightly longer depending on how she manages.¡±


    He hands me the letter he has composed for the Laird.


    ¡°This tells the Laird everything that has happened up here and gives you my commendations.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. Paolo, it has been good meeting you, and I am just glad we could help.¡±


    He smiles as I turn to Merl.


    ¡°Well, my friend, it¡¯s been interesting times,¡± he says and pulls me and then Elara into a meaty hug.¡°Take care on the road and know you are welcome at my forge any time.¡±


    We both thank him and, bidding our farewells, begin our walk out the gate.


    We had gone maybe 20 yards before Naomi spun and sprinted back. She flew into her mum''s arms for a final hug goodbye.


    I watch her gather her nerves, take a deep breath, and then march resolutely back to join us as we leave Stonebridge.

 Chapter 32 – A subtle burp.

    The first day is pretty uneventful. Much of the area beyond the road is well managed as we pass by land cultivated by several of the village¡¯s farms.


    Naomi managed well for much of the morning, but by lunch, she was complaining her feet were sore. I suggested we stop for a break to let her rest.


    With an over-exaggerated moaning sigh, she flopped down on the ground and went to pull off her boots.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that, Naomi.¡±


    She looked up at me with questioning eyes.


    ¡°But they ache so much, and my boots hurt.¡±


    ¡°And if you take them off, your feet will swell up, and then you won¡¯t be able to put them back on again.¡± I put down the pack in front of a nearby rock. ¡°Sit here, lean against the stone, and put your legs up on the pack. That will ease the aching.¡±


    ¡®Wearing in new boots is never fun.¡¯ I can¡¯t help but think.


    ¡°Will they always hurt?¡± she asks morosely, glaring at her feet as she sat once more.


    ¡°No, for a day or two more maybe, as you get used to all this walking. Then you will start getting stronger and your legs tougher,¡± Elara said, joining the conversation.


    ¡°Ok, I guess.¡± The poor girl sounded so glum, I gave her some bread and cold meats to chow down on, then passed out some to Misty and Elara.


    I lit a small fire and put on water to boil for tea.


    After an hour or so, I doused the fire and packed up the camp.


    Naomi was melodramatically hobbling, but I am not a total tyrant, so I lifted her up and sat her high on my shoulders.


    ¡°There, you can be our lookout. But you have to point out anything you see from up there, deal?¡±


    ¡°Deal,¡± she giggles.


    We continue downriver, and the area slowly returns to a more natural and wild state. Naomi is dutiful in her scouting duties, pointing out interesting animals and birds, at one point even a big rock that looked, she said, like a fat pig. As she pointed and excitedly called out, I would dutifully look and Identify, adding mentally to my knowledge base of this land.


    I learned that the not-deer we had at Jake¡¯s for dinner was called a Dinkus, and we saw three groups of them, usually a few females and maybe a fawn or two with a stag looking out for them.


    ¡°Funnips!¡± she shouted excitedly, pointing to the side, where a meadow had several of the creatures lazing about in it.


    ¡®So that¡¯s what those meat-eating bunnies are called.¡¯ Pleased at last to put a name to them.


    ¡°Mummy tells me we shouldn¡¯t play with them though,¡± she tells me solemnly.


    ¡°She said they are fun when they¡¯re small, then they nip off your finger for dinner.¡± She gives a little shiver.


    I burst out laughing.


    ¡°That seems like wise advice.¡± And I feel her nodding sagely.


    ¡®I hunt,¡¯ Misty tells me and disappears off into the undergrowth.


    We continue on down the road for another couple of minutes, then we turn at the sound of a frightful high-pitched squeal.


    What had been fields full of funnips were now empty, bar the rapidly settling dust thrown up by the scattering creatures.


    Sauntering out towards us, dragging a large funnip, is Misty.


    ¡®Dinner.¡¯ She informs me, dropping a carcass bigger than her at my feet.


    ¡°I guess we get to find out how they taste then,¡± I say to the others.


    Having done her duty as a self-appointed food provider, Misty jumps up and lands on Elara¡¯s shoulder before draping herself around her neck and going to sleep.


    I look at Elara and smile sheepishly.


    ¡®Only fair, Del, our passenger is the heavier.¡¯


    I do worry myself sometimes. Is it that I have spent too many years on my own and just got into silly habits?


    Or do I genuinely have someone or something else inside me?


    I am sure, were I ever to find myself on some leather couch looking at a bespectacled bearded man holding a clipboard...


    ¡®Isn¡¯t that just a bit overly clich¨¦d?¡¯


    ¡®Be quiet, I wasn¡¯t asking you.¡¯


    Anyway, where was I?


    Damn, my mind was wandering again, but hey, it¡¯s got me this far, and sometimes the advice I give myself is good advice.


    We continue on, time measured by the passage of the sun and the changing scenery around us. Further up the valley, the land had been dense with woodland, the canopy thick and the air rich with the earthy scent of decaying leaves and damp soil.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.Now, the valley begins to widen and flatten, its character shifting. The slopes still bear clusters of trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, but the valley floor opens into a landscape reminiscent of a Scottish vale from my homeland.


    The air carries a faint sweetness from low scrubby bushes mingled with the sharper tang of brambles. Tough grasses whisper as they sway, punctuated by the occasional rustle of unseen creatures darting through thickets.


    The river was also getting wider, its pebbled bed less visible beneath the increasingly thick weeds wafting in the current. Fish that looked much like trout swim and hunt insects that buzz and flit across the surface.


    ¡®I need a rod.¡¯ An idle thought, but a true one. I wonder if I can make one but dismiss the idea. I will just buy one at the next town.


    In the meantime, Misty is a good ¡®fishercat¡¯, and Elara also proved adept at bow hunting.


    ¡®You are being a bit misogynistic, Del, expecting the ladies to look after your needs.¡¯ I take a sharp inward look at that thought.


    ¡®Bullcrap, that¡¯s just delegating to those better suited to the task. Equality and all that woke shit,¡¯ I argue back, yet in the background, I hear the mocking laugh in reply.


    Fed up with myself, I stop at a nice open area suitable for the tents.


    ¡°Let¡¯s set up for the night,¡± I say, a tad grumpily. Elara gives me a bit of an odd look but doesn¡¯t comment. She just puts Misty and her pack down before taking out her skin to refill at the river.


    Once the tents were set up, I allowed Naomi to take off her boots and sent her to wash her feet in the river. She did this with eager gusto, and when she got back, I gently dried her feet, inspected the blisters, and applied some feldspar ointment.


    ¡°There, that should do it, and they will toughen up quickly,¡± I tell her with a smile.


    Pulling up her feet to inspect them, she grins at me.


    ¡°Thanks, Del, you¡¯re the best.¡± Then she runs off to play chase with Misty.


    ¡°Watch out for funnips,¡± I call after her.


    I untie dinner from where I had hung it from my pack and get out my skinning knife. Time to see if I was any better with a crazy rabbit than I was with a giant pig. As I inspect the creature and make my first cut, I can feel eyes on me and look up to see Elara watching.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t done much of this, have you?¡± she states simply.


    ¡°Is it that obvious?¡±


    She nods at me with an impish smile.


    ¡°I told you, a wise fool. I¡¯m not sure how someone who seems to know so much knows so little of the basic stuff,¡± she winks at me. ¡°I blame your parents. Now give me that knife before you ruin dinner or cut off your finger.¡±


    I don¡¯t argue with that at all and pass her the knife.


    What follows is like a skinning 101 lesson. She shows me the correct way to open the abdomen to reveal the contents while not piercing anything that will taint the meat.


    Then, with a few deft cuts, the skin can be peeled off. None of the hacking I had done with the boar.


    What we are left with is a neatly gutted and skinned funnip with plenty of offal to keep Misty happy.


    I take the pelt, and with Elara¡¯s instruction and supervision, carefully wash it before laying it on a rock to dry.


    Soon, the aromas of a spit-roasting funnip waft up from the fire as I chop up some tubers Naomi had dug up. Apparently, the children back at Stonebridge often had fun competing to find the biggest roots for the cook pot.


    I considered how far we had travelled¡ªnot too bad but behind what we had expected due to Naomi¡¯s lower stamina and sore feet.


    ¡®Altogether, not bad though, Del.¡¯ I reassure myself as I drop the tubers into boiling water.


    I sit back, feeling pretty content, and look over at the girls. Naomi is sat close to Elara, who is telling her a story from her own childhood. Misty is at her feet. I¡¯m not sure if she is also listening, but she is most definitely enjoying her chunks of liver and kidney.


    ¡®You know, Del, there are far worse places to be,¡¯ I consider, giving the spit another turn.


    ¡®As long as there are no crazy wizards,¡¯ I moderate my earlier thoughts.


    ¡°Food¡¯s ready,¡± I tell the others and start to serve up the steaming plates.


    ¡°Alright, it¡¯s not Donna¡¯s, but it¡¯s not bad for trail grub,¡± I comment as I start to tuck in.


    The food is hot and filling. The funnip was a bit gamey but very tender, and the juices ran freely, coating the tubers¡ªstrag roots, identify had informed me. The smell matches the taste and is rich and inviting.


    I sit back, replete and satisfied.


    ¡°That was altogether not bad,¡± I say.


    Naomi nods through her last mouthfuls, and Elara agrees with a subtle burp, which causes both of them to giggle.


    As the sun starts to set, we settle Naomi into one of the tents.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a good start to our trip,¡± Elara says as I poke the fire to encourage its flames.


    ¡°Mhmm,¡± I agree. ¡°We have a long way to go, though. Do you know much about the land ahead?¡±


    She shakes her head. ¡°No, very little. I was never privy to the reports of our emissaries, and I was too young to be involved in the scouts¡¯ conversations.¡±


    ¡°Then it shall be a learning experience together.¡±


    ¡°You really haven¡¯t spent much time in the wild before, have you, Del?¡±


    I look at her and chuckle.


    ¡°My life before I landed on Gondowa was quiet, to say the least. I was injured a while back, and although it is better now, for a long time, I could do very little. Before that, I lived in a quiet town doing mostly administrative work. I got my food from a market, had a roof over my head and a fire to keep me warm. The most dangerous thing I had to deal with was Misty¡¯s claws if she decided my leg made a good scratching post.¡±


    She nods along as I tell her as much and as close to the truth as I can. She deserves no less from me.


    ¡°It does explain a lot,¡± she says as I finish. ¡°The Wirral and the Dosha is you all over.¡±


    ¡®Damnit, here we go again. What the fuck is a Wirral or a dosha?¡¯


    ¡°Well,¡± she tells me, ¡°I am tired, so I¡¯m going to head for bed.¡±


    ¡°I''ll join you in a moment, I just want to enjoy the stars for a bit longer.¡±


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t go making me all cold just as I get the bed warmed up,¡± she warns with a chuckle.


    I lie back on the grass, Misty coming up to join me, her purr loud in the quiet of the evening air.


    ¡®You have a simple life,¡¯ I tell her.


    ¡®Hmph,¡¯ she disagrees. ¡®Worry about what is, then kill or run.¡¯


    I guffaw and get up. ¡°Goodnight, Misty.¡± And head for the tent.


    Some hours later, I get woken by her urgent mental nudge.


    ¡®Kill or run time.¡¯

 Chapter 33 – Come to daddy

    I was awake instantly as her words hit my mind. I jumped up, grabbing my leathers and buckling on my sword belt and bandolier.


    Elara was also quickly up, throwing on gear, her bow in hand as we both left the tent.


    A howl reminiscent of wolves helpfully informed us of the problem Misty had woken us up for.¡°Stay close to the tents to protect Naomi,¡± I tell her as I throw a log on the fire embers, causing them to flare up into life.


    ''Let¡¯s hope her bow and the fire are enough.¡¯


    Drawing my sword in one hand and a venom dagger in the other, I look around, trying to spot the incoming beasts. A yelp of pain gives me a direction, and I spin that way.


    ¡®Good girl, Misty.¡¯


    An arrow zips past me, heading to the trees behind.


    ¡®Ok, so they¡¯re all around¡ªfigures.¡¯


    As I finish the thought, I get my first view of one of the large wolf-like creatures.


    Identify


    Ashfang: Beast, young male


    Level: 3


    Pack hunter, nocturnal


    Strengths: Aggressive, agile


    Weaknesses: Cowardly


    Attacks: Bite, rend


    Skill: Howl


    Lore: Ashfangs are territorial pack hunters normally active at night. They will often hunt down and overwhelm weaker prey to take back to the den. The howl can be used to summon packmates. If presented with superior strength, they will often run away.


    It is running in towards me, fast. Another just behind it.I lift my sword, ready. This is my first proper fight since we got to Stonebridge. The cavern didn¡¯t count, I told myself. That was more of a group effort. Besides, I had levelled up now.


    ¡®Come to daddy.¡¯


    ¡®Really, Del? Do you think you are Rambo or something?¡¯


    I swing my sword hard into the flank of the closest Ashfang.


    ¡®Shut up, damn well concentrate before you¡¯re dog dinner.¡¯ I pull the blade free, leaving a bloody wound as the beast leaps away.


    I see another shape leaping through the air towards me and slash with my knife.


    Rewarded with a spray of red and a pained yelp, I gather myself for the next round.


    ¡®Dog dinner? Really?¡¯ The sword cleaves a leg from the first Ashfang as it comes in for a bite, and it collapses to the ground. ¡®Is that the best you can come up with?¡¯


    I plunge the knife into the back of its neck, ending its whimpering struggle.


    ¡®Well, it¡¯s hard to think when I¡¯m trying to fight for our lives, you know.¡¯


    The second Ashfang seems to be wobbling as it comes in, and I can smell a strong scent of rotting meat coming from it.


    ¡®That seems to be a you problem, really.¡¯


    I decapitate the beast and look for the next target.


    ¡®A me problem? You are me, you total fuckwit.¡¯


    I see Misty with her claws wrapped into the flanks of a large black Ashfang, raking open its guts and dumping steaming entrails as it tries to shake her free.


    Arrows zip into the surrounding fields and copses.


    ¡®Damn, she can fire fast.¡¯


    Another, much larger, Ashfang stalks towards me.


    It stops maybe 50 feet away, sits, and sniffs the air. Its yellow eyes pierce into mine as if assessing.


    One thing is for sure: there is an advanced cunning and animal intelligence in its look.


    Identify


    Ashfang: Beast, Alpha male


    Level: 5


    Pack leader, nocturnal


    Strengths: Aggressive, agile


    Weaknesses: Unknown


    Attacks: Bite, rend


    Special Attack: Hunter¡¯s gaze


    Skill: Howl


    Lore: Ashfangs are territorial pack hunters normally active at night. They will often hunt down and overwhelm weaker prey to take back to the den. The howl can be used to summon packmates. If presented with superior strength, they will often run away.


    With a growl, it charges forward; teeth shining white and far too sharp, claws tearing up the ground.


    ¡®Oh fuuuck.¡¯


    An arrow whips past and buries itself in the animal''s shoulder. It seems to barely notice, its eyes locked onto mine.


    What feels like an ice-cold needle stabs through my brain. I am helpless, locked like a victim caught in the spotlight of a predator.


    A moment lasts forever¡ªmy breath, my very world, seems frozen.


    I see so much in that instant of mortal terror: Misty closing in behind, another arrow flying (dodged), and those eyes.


    I hear Elara scream at me.


    ¡°Del!¡±


    My inner demon roars at me


    ¡®MOVE YOU USELESS FUCKING BASTARD!¡¯  and tears my gaze from the Ashfang.


    I leap to the side at the last moment, feeling a pain stab through me as a claw catches my hip.


    I had somehow managed to return the favour, landing a glancing blow that scores a bloody line across its rear end as it passes.


    My earlier stupor ripped away, I spin to face the creature, blades ready.It is already turning my way, dirt flying up as it skids around, a snarl emanating from its throat.


    Another barely noticed arrow scores a hit as it charges back at me, saliva spraying from its snarling jaws.


    With gathering rage I snarl


    ¡®We got this Del.¡¯


    I spin to the side, both weapons coming down in a crossed attack.


    My sword hits its already wounded shoulder, the venom knife plunging so deep into its side it is ripped from my grasp and remains stuck in the beast.


    Misty lands on its back with a fearsome yowl and starts biting chunks from it as another of Elara¡¯s bowshots makes itself known.


    ¡°Die, you mother fucker!¡± I scream as I plunge my sword into its throat, the point emerging from the base of its skull.


    The ashfang¡¯s eyes glaze over, its blood¡ªhot and sticky¡ªgushes over my hand, filling the air with a coppery tang; it drops to the ground, sliding off my blade with a final sigh.


    From around us, I hear animals running as what is left of the pack retreats into the night.


    [Congratulations. You have killed 7 Ashfangs. Experience gained.]


    [Congratulations. You have killed Ashfang Alpha. Experience gained.]


    I dismiss the quiet beeping telling me I have other messages; that can be dealt with later.


    I take a knee, still breathing hard, and hear Elara¡¯s feet hitting the ground as she runs to me. I feel spent and weak as the adrenaline leaches away. I lean on my sword as a cane to stop myself from collapsing completely.


    Back at the tents, I can hear Naomi¡¯s soft, terror-filled sobs as Misty comes over to sniff at me. Assured I am not seriously hurt, she turns and heads to the frightened girl.


    ¡®Heal,¡¯ she tells me. ¡®I will tend the kitten.¡¯


    Elara arrives and crouches down at my side.


    ¡°Are you hurt?¡± she asks, her voice full of concern.I look at her, her face pale with fear and eyes full of compassion.


    ¡°A bit of a bang to my hip.¡± Wincing, I take her hand reassuringly.


    ¡°Nothing we can¡¯t easily fix.¡± I give her a wan smile and, with a bit of a grunt, get back to my feet.


    The crying from Naomi¡¯s tent has stopped, replaced by muffled sniffling, so I head there to check on her. Poking my head through the tent flap I see Misty bundled up in the girl¡¯s small arms and held tightly against her chest.


    To give her her due, she is handling the indignity better than usual. Being confined in such a tight hug would normally result in claws and vocal expressions of dissent.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.Now, however, it is met with purrs and the occasional rough-tongued lick on Naomi¡¯s nose, which elicits quiet giggles.


    ¡®Good girl, Misty,¡¯ I tell her. ¡®Great job.¡¯


    ¡®Kitten just needed comfort,¡¯ she responds sagely.


    Wriggling free, she gives the girl a final nuzzle before heading out to continue her watch.


    ¡°Are you alright, Naomi?¡± I ask her. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, that was a bit scary, but they have gone now.¡±


    Her big brown eyes look up at me.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t really scared,¡± I am told with a determined look.


    ¡°That¡¯s good then. Now try to get back to sleep. It¡¯s not morning yet.¡± I lean in and tuck her blankets up around her chin as she settles down. With a final look, I turn and leave the tent.


    Outside, I see that Elara is dragging in the final ashfang body to join that of the alpha near our fire. What had seemed to flash by in only moments has resulted in a pile of cooling flesh and fur. I go over and give her a hug.


    ¡°That was pretty mad for a while,¡± I say, before starting to help pull out the salvageable arrows from her kills. I also retrieve my knife from the side of the big alpha male.


    ¡°It was bloody awesome!¡± She grins at me.


    ¡°But now we need to skin these bastards.¡±


    She looks at the ones I had hacked at.¡°Those that have viable skins anyway,¡± she says, bending down to start on the first one.


    ¡°The pelts will fetch a good price, but the meat is not worth eating, so we either burn it, bury it, or leave it for scavengers.¡±


    I simply nod as I start my own attempt at skinning.


    ¡°Just leave it. I don¡¯t want the stink of burning meat fouling the place up, and I don¡¯t have the energy to dig a big pit.¡±


    I settle down to start working on a beast.


    ¡°You fought well,¡± I tell her. ¡°Downed two and, from the look of it, an arrow in one of Misty¡¯s kills and helping with the big boss too.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t let you take all the credit, now could I?¡± She laughs.


    ¡®No, but it seems BB and the system credits me with all of them, though, from that message.¡¯


    I nod in agreement with myself as I peel off another almost intact skin.


    ¡®I am guessing the same works for Misty,¡¯ I consider. ¡®I wonder if she gets system messages or just a bunch of ethereal meows.¡¯


    ¡°Del.¡±


    ¡°Mmm?¡± I answer as I start on my final carcass.


    ¡°You are laughing at your own jokes again.¡± The humour in her voice is very evident.


    ¡°Oh, sorry. I spent too long on my own before I came here,¡± I look to where she is busy on the big male.


    ¡°I was the best conversationalist in the room most of the time.¡±


    That elicits a sparklingly bright laugh as we finish gathering up the fur, and I put it into the storage ring for safekeeping.


    After washing up and removing the gore that pretty much covered me and, to a lesser degree, Elara, we leave our rinsed clothes by the fire to dry and head back to the tent.


    ¡°Do you think they will be back?¡± I am asked as we settle down.


    I think on it for a moment, considering what I had learned of them and their habits, and shake my head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. We gave the pack a pretty bloody nose and killed their leader.¡±


    ¡°You are probably right, but,¡± she snuggles into me, ¡°let''s get quickly clear of the area early tomorrow.¡±


    I wrap my arm around her and kiss the top of her head.


    ¡°Agreed. Now go to sleep. We have a long day ahead.¡±


    As her gentle breathing turns into quiet snores, I finally decide to attend to the messages beeping away at me.


    ¡®Alright, BB, no need to nag. What have you got for me?¡¯


    [You have advanced the skill: Skinning.]


    [You have learned the skill: Two-Handed Melee. Don¡¯t trip and cut off a finger.]


    [Congratulations. You have enough experience to level up¡ªwould you like to level up now?]


    I ponder for a moment. I am tired and really need sleep.


    ¡®Don¡¯t be an idiot, you need to be stronger more than you need a few zzz¡¯s.¡¯


    True enough.


    Yes.


    Well, I knew that fight was intense, but it got me another two full levels. Only one for the moggy, but she must be well on her way to the next.


    Misty and I are now getting well above what would be normal for a standard sapient in Gondowa. I am sure there will be exceptions, but it feels good to be that much better able to protect those I care about.


    So, four more points.I decide to put two more on Strength.


    That gaze attack had scared the shit out of me, and I hope to be able to defend against similar in the future, so I take a guess at what may be best to defend against its sort. Two points go onto my Intelligence.


    I look at the results and, having read through them, I close my eyes and go to sleep.


    Name: Del Axholm


    Level: 6


    Path: Archer


    Health: 48


    Strength: 20


    Dexterity: 18


    Stamina: 19


    Intelligence: 14


    Wisdom: 12


    Mana: 42


    Spirit: 24


    Agility: 22


    Presence: 10


    Animal Companion: Misty; feline


    Skills:


    Archery lvl 3 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows


    Woodcraft lvl 3 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.


    Tracking lvl 2 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.


    Traps lvl 1 ¨C Can make basic snares and pit traps.


    Sneak lvl 3 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.


    Herbalism lvl 2 ¨C Can identify and gather basic herbs.


    Skinning lvl 3 ¨C Can manage to roughly skin a carcass.


    Leadership lvl 1 - Able to command small groups of up to 20.


    Attacks:Bow lvl 3 ¨C Simple Shot.


    Sword lvl 5 ¨C Cut, thrust.


    Dagger lvl 3 ¨C Stab, Slash.


    Special Attacks:


    Bow:Sneak attack lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage


    Master Archer lvl 1 ¨C Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.


    Dagger:Backstab lvl 2 ¨C Double damage.


    Two Handed Melee lvl 1 ¨C Two weapon fighting, twice the fun.


    Name: Misty


    Level: 6


    Path: Feline Companion


    Health: 46


    Strength: 11


    Dexterity: 20


    Stamina: 15


    Intelligence: 10


    Wisdom: 6


    Mana: 25


    Spirit: 15


    Agility: 24


    Presence: 14


    Skills:


    Charm lvl 4 ¨C Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.


    Attacks:


    Claw lvl 5 ¨C Attack with front claws.


    Rake lvl 4 ¨C Double rear leg attack.


    Bite lvl 5 ¨C It¡¯s teeth all the way


    Special Attacks:


    Pounce lvl 6 ¨C Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause the target to stumble.


    Sneak Pounce lvl 3 ¨C As above; Triple damage.

 Chapter 34 – A Puzzlement

    Dawn came too early after our disturbed night, but getting up was made easier by the hard ground beneath.


    ¡®You have got to used to a bed again, Del.¡¯ I am feeling grumpy and a tad achy.


    ¡®Camping is for young folks.¡¯ Arguing back seldom left me in a winning position. I sometimes wonder why I bother.


    Elara looked up at me as I pottered around in the tent, getting my gear on and muttering to myself. She smiled at me and started to get dressed herself.


    ¡°Do you want breakfast duty or camp pack-up?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind, but then, I haven¡¯t tasted your cooking, so go get at it, girl,¡± I quip with a laugh.


    As she leaves, I start gathering up the bedding and collapse the tent. Seeing Naomi is also up, and busily fussing over Misty, I soon have hers packed up as well.


    The aromas coming off the cooking fire make my stomach rumble, so I tell Naomi to come with me to wash and freshen up so we can eat.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± I say, patting my full stomach. ¡°Who agrees that Elara has cooking duties from now on?¡±


    It¡¯s a bit disheartening that even the damn cat mewls up in agreement with that suggestion.


    ¡®Well, they didn¡¯t have to agree so readily.¡¯


    The next two days soon prove to be a fairly monotonous trudge.


    Okay, monotonous is better than being doggy dinner, and Naomi¡¯s feet toughened up, so there was less carrying, but even so.


    The weather was typical of a balmy late spring, the air is full of the promise of the summer¡¯s heat ahead, Animals can be heard, and sometimes seen, going about their business, while the spring flowers filled the air with scents to blend with that of the grass beneath our feet.


    It leaves me far too much time to get into the hubbub that is my own thoughts.


    I think Elara realised that I was spending considerable time trying to figure shit out, as she mainly spent her days walking along quietly or taking Naomi a little off the track to hunt herbs and other things of interest.


    As for the girl, well, she was a sponge. Lapping up everything in an eagerness to fill her agile brain with new and exciting knowledge. In the evening after dinner, Elara would guide her on ethereal journeys, helping her to strengthen her talents and how to better control her use of mana. She would use her ¡®nap-time¡¯ to travel across the nearby fields and trees, identifying any plants or animals that glowed in her sight. Really interesting ones she would mentally mark so they could go and gather them in the morning.


    She did spot a small group of Ashfangs, which caused a bit of concern when she told us, but they appeared to be heading away from our location, so that was fine.


    And as for me?


    I was in a bit of a turmoil.


    My whole life, everything I thought I knew about the world, had been completely rewritten. I still hadn¡¯t got my head around it all, and I think I only just held onto the concept of sanity through the force of my stubborn bloody-mindedness.


    I have always prided myself on my logic. Now, this may be a bit conceited, but I believe pretty much anything can be explained given enough time and information.I knew, for example, that the Earth was a round ball of rock that had been around for billions of years, of which we had only been a part of for a tiny fraction.Before us came the dinosaurs and before that, well, pretty much nothing major.Yet here I was, apparently living in a past that made no sense. Sent here by a power that totally blew my mind to do something ridiculous to save my entire species.


    I mean.


    ¡®For fuck¡¯s sake.¡¯


    If I am honest, there is a big chunk of me that believes I am hooked up to some life-support machine in an intensive care unit, having had a major whatever happen.


    Another bit of me wonders if I am in some padded cell, off my tits on who knows what medications, while I dribble inanely in a corner.


    I read somewhere that only the truly sane can recognise their insanity, or was it something else?


    Anyway, I digress.


    I have all these crazy thoughts going through my head as I place one foot ahead of another, idly joining bits of conversation or going through the motions of setting and breaking camp.


    Misty keeps coming up and giving me odd looks.


    I think she realises that this time of active inactivity is giving me time for reflection and consideration. Her concern is obvious, but at the same time, she doesn¡¯t try to impose her own thoughts.


    That¡¯s another thing, damnit!


    ¡®What''s with Misty? She is a cat! A cat for crying out loud. What the fuck is a cat doing learning to talk and shit?¡¯


    ¡®Argh, my damn head hurts.¡¯


    I take a steadying breath.


    Fine, so let¡¯s act on the premise that I am not mad or hooked up to a life-support.


    Hmmm, dead?


    I hadn¡¯t considered that possibility. Was I stuck in some post-life dystopian nightmare?


    Surreptitiously, I check my pulse. Good special effects if I was dead.


    Then again, I ached too much, and if I was dead, then I am sure the afterlife hell would have me beaten up more and maybe ripped apart repeatedly.


    OK, not dead either. Well, I have to admit that¡¯s a bit of a relief - I think.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.Around me is too much reality: the smell of the countryside, the singing of the birds, the crunch of the grass and stones underfoot. This is all just too damn real.


    But what is real?


    How the fuck am I supposed to know what is real?


    Elves for gods¡¯ sake?


    And from what I have heard, dwarves?


    I swear if they end up talking with some fake Scottish accent like some mad take on a Tolkien film, then I will lose my shit.


    ¡®At least nobody mentioned fucking hobbits.¡¯


    But magic.


    Magic!


    Damn, I know I was given the choice, and I decided on archery¡ªwhich I suck at¡ªbut damn. I wanted magic.


    That feeling I got in my gut whenever it was used near me. I wanted to be able to control that, use it, learn from it.


    ¡®Hey BB or Menolly, or Teach. I know one of you is watching all this crap.¡¯ I cast my eyes up, though why I thought they were up like some omnipresent deity, I didn¡¯t know.


    ¡®What''s the chance of me learning magic?¡¯


    I waited patiently but got no answer. Didn¡¯t really expect one, but it would have been nice.


    Fine, so I am here in a past I never knew our little blue marble ever had and, if I take that as truth, then I also have to accept that for some totally inane reason, I have to convince this great shit-for-brains boss man, that we as a species are worth the time and effort of his minions to save from destruction.


    But then what happens?


    Nobody had told me that bit.


    Here am I, living through my own persona cosplay adventure theme park ride.


    What the hell happens after?


    If, I assume, I manage to do the right thing and save our sorry arses.


    Do I just get dumped back into my sad and lonely old life with other people carrying on as if nothing happened? Could I go back to that?


    What about my stats and skills?


    Would they all get stripped from me, leaving me once again a crippled shadow, with nothing but harsh memories of what I could be?


    That seemed cruel, unforgivably so. But considering what I had already seen of the powers controlling this mad universe, why should that even be a consideration?


    I was a lab rat, running through a maze with no real idea of the rules or even if there was an exit.


    You know, nobody ever said this was easy. In fact, I am pretty sure that Menolly said it would be a bit of a tough challenge.


    That¡¯s another thing.


    Was I being played from the start?


    I get sent a, if I am honest, damn fine-looking woman with all the right curves and moves to persuade me to do something, that any half-sane person would laugh at uproariously and then throw them out the door.


    If I had been a lonely old woman, would I have been sent a Brad Pitt lookalike?


    ¡®Hey Menolly, did you use pheromones?¡¯


    Okay, so let¡¯s get back on track.


    I am here, I have a job to do.


    Now then, that¡¯s a start sure enough. I don¡¯t have a clue what the job actually is.


    ¡®A fucking job description would have been nice.¡¯


    All I know is to survive¡ªoh, and help Elara¡ªbut once again, no clues as to how or in what way.I am assuming that


    Naomi may, or may not, be salient in one or other of those cuvats. Then again, she may be completely unconnected and her survival or otherwise absolutely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.


    ¡®Now that is something completely unacceptable,¡¯ I disagree.


    ¡®She is a kid, and you are responsible for her, Del. Full fucking stop.¡¯


    I can live with that. Her relationship to the whole cuvat thing is irrelevant. I have accepted responsibility for her, and I take that seriously.


    Besides, if something happened to her, I dare not think how it would affect Elara.


    That settled it then, at least for now.


    Look after the girls, fight those who want to harm us.


    And then, save my whole damn planet.


    Simple, really.


    We broke camp on the dawning of the third day since the Ashfang fight. The morning was another one promising clear skies.


    I looked across to see Elara at the fire cooking and Naomi playing with Misty.


    I smiled.


    Maybe the first proper smile in too many days, and went over to the campfire and gave Elara a hug from behind.


    She gave me a questioning look.


    ¡°Are you alright, Del? You seem to have been a bit distracted lately.¡±


    I sit on a log next to her.


    ¡°More than a bit distracted, I¡¯m afraid,¡± I tell her.


    ¡°A lot has happened in a short time, and I just had to try and process some of it.¡±


    ¡°And?¡± she asks.


    ¡°I think I am getting there. Life on my little island was too quiet to prepare me for what is the reality of Gondowa.¡±


    ¡®Well ain¡¯t that the damn truth.¡¯


    ¡°I¡¯m still in a bit of a state adapting to what life is like here.¡± I smile at that thought.


    ¡°But I think I am getting there.¡±


    She gives me a long look, her eyes searching deep into mine.


    ¡°Good,¡± she says at last with a satisfied smile.


    ¡°Now get yourself washed up, breakfast will be ready in a few.¡±


    As I stand and head to the river that still runs nearby, I feel the nudge of Misty in my mind. Her gentle enquiry seeks assurance that I am well and, to use her terms,


    ¡®Able to hunt again.¡¯


    I smile ruefully at that.


    ¡®Yes, Misty, my head is back in the game, and I can hunt again.¡¯


    I guess it¡¯s time to see what else this damn world has to throw our way.

 Chapter 35 – The Sanctum

    Breakfast is the usual affair. Paolo and Donna, between them, had made sure we were well supplied for at least our first few days. While I had been trudging along, wrapped up in my innermost headaches and conflicts, Elara, ever practical, had mended her broken arrows and made new ones to replace those that were beyond repair.


    I was actually quite surprised at how much I had missed by simply not being aware of what was going on around me.


    ¡°Last night,¡± Elara was telling me as we prepared to move out, ¡°Naomi¡¯s astral walk showed her a path about a mile ahead.¡±


    I looked at the young girl with interest.


    ¡°So what was up this path then, young lady?¡± I ask her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know,¡± she said with a grin. ¡°That¡¯s what makes it so fun to go find out.¡±


    I gave Elara a questioning look.


    ¡°All she could see and describe to me was it glowed¡ªsomething up that path was glowing brightly, but she couldn¡¯t see what.¡±


    ¡°So, a puzzle. Any ideas on what we might be looking for?¡±


    Elara just shrugged.¡°We need to be careful, as it will be something magical to cause that sort of whiteout. But it could be anything, from a small item to a building.¡±


    ¡°Nothing like a mystery to get the juices flowing in the morning then,¡± I say, eliciting a giggle from Naomi.


    About an hour after we headed down the track, we found the small trail leading away from the river and making its way towards a stand of trees and the gently sloping valley side in the distance.


    ¡°So how far up this trail was your glow?¡± I enquire as I check my weapons are all loose in their scabbards.


    ¡°Not sure,¡± Naomi answers with a shrug. ¡°I can fly really fast, so it¡¯s hard to say how far in walk time.¡±


    ¡°Ok then, let¡¯s take it easy and not rush, at least until we know what we are getting into.¡±


    I look to where Misty is sat grooming herself just ahead.


    ¡®Want to scout ahead, girl?¡¯ I ask her, to which she looks my way, gives her nethers one last polish for good luck, then disappears nimbly into the brush.


    I notice Elara has her bow in hand, so, as ready as we will ever be, I lead the way after Misty up the narrow track.


    The trail was a bit tricky at first, obviously little if ever used these days. It soon degenerated into little more than a game trail. In fact, I often spotted animal prints in the softer patches of mud that occurred at times.


    At one point, I crouched down by a track. It reminded me of a rabbit¡¯s paw, so I assume funnips are in the area. Not far away are the faint traces of those I had seen Misty leave.


    ¡®I hope you aren¡¯t getting distracted with hunting.¡¯I feel a contemptuous snort in my mind as her answer.


    ¡®OK, as if I could doubt your professionalism.¡¯ I shake my head at the thought.


    She is a good cat.


    The distant murmuring of the river fades as the sounds of the trees take over.


    Although the area is far from densely wooded, the whisper of the spring breeze through the trees adds a gentle sigh to the birdsong that seems to surround us.


    I gather up the odd plant as we go and notice Elara doing the same, instructing Naomi on them as she goes.


    Smelling fresh mint, I soon locate a healthy patch that can add a nice note to our tea tonight.


    I start to feel the movement of mana¡ªnot like a spell, but different, as if the air itself is starting to get richer.


    Looking back, I see Elara a few feet behind. She has also paused. Seeing my look, she nods in agreement. She feels it too.


    ¡°Any ideas?¡±


    ¡°Not yet, but whatever Naomi discovered last night is nearby.¡±


    I put the mint in my pack and settle it neatly out of the way.


    ¡®Anything, Misty?¡¯


    I wait a few moments before she comes back at me.


    ¡®Dusty building.¡¯


    ¡®Any dangers?¡¯ I ask her.I hear her mental laugh.


    ¡®Spiders?¡¯ she questions.


    ¡®Damn cat,¡¯ I grouse before stepping back to the others.


    ¡°I just had a chat with Misty.¡± Naomi¡¯s eyes widen, her mouth forming a little ¡®O,¡¯ while Elara just looks inquisitive.


    I must have forgotten to mention Misty¡¯s talent to Naomi, I realise.


    ¡°Anyway, up ahead is some old building. From what I can gather, it seems deserted bar a few bugs and things.¡±


    Elara nods.


    ¡°Do you think it could be the source of this increase in ambient mana?¡± I ask her.


    he thinks for a moment.


    ¡°If it is, it would explain why all Naomi could see was a bright glow. With her talent only just beginning to develop, the mana in this region is enough to overwhelm it.¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s go explore a creepy old building then,¡± I say, and make a ghostly moaning groan at them, lifting my arms as I pretend to be all spooky.


    Elara gives me a playful slap on the arm, and Naomi giggles.


    Through the obscuring trees, the outline of the building makes itself known. It was once white, I would guess, though it is now stained with age and covered in a resplendent coat of moss and ivy. We pause to examine it before moving closer.Stolen novel; please report.


    In shape, it¡¯s a bit like a large enclosed stone gazebo: circular, with a domed roof and a short hall protruding from it that I assume is the entryway. The walls are made of large blocks of what may be marble or something similar, its narrow arched windows are evenly spaced around the walls.


    ¡°It makes me feel all burbly inside,¡± Naomi states, her hand now clasped tightly in Elara¡¯s.


    ¡°That¡¯s the magic in the air,¡± Elara explains. ¡°Your mana inside is recognising and reacting to the power in the building.¡±


    ¡°So is the building itself magical, or do you think it¡¯s something within the building?¡±


    Elara considers my question for a moment or two, then shakes her head.


    ¡°It¡¯s too ambiguous at the moment. It could be either or both.¡±


    I nod. ¡°Or none of the above.¡±


    I rub my hands together in anticipation. I can see Misty sat on the steps up to the doorway, so stepping forward, I say,


    ¡°Let¡¯s go exploring then.¡±


    The ambient mana climbs a bit more, then seems to find a level. But now I can detect something else¡ªas if the mana also contains a flavour, one that I recognise from Elara¡¯s use of magic. I look to her, and she nods in agreement.


    ¡°Nature magic,¡± she states. ¡°I think this may be a lost shrine.¡±


    ¡°Am I imagining things, or does it feel old, damaged in some way? Your mana feels fresh and vibrant, but this feels, in some way, off.¡±


    The way it feels makes my teeth ache.


    ¡®What the fuck are you going on about, Del? Teeth ache?¡¯ Why do I always argue with my own thoughts?


    ¡®Shut up. You try and describe something you never even knew existed a couple of weeks back,¡¯ I growl.


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s got a nature attunement, but it does feel not quite right.¡±


    ¡®See, Elara gets it.¡¯


    Naomi seems fidgety and stands very close to us.


    ¡°It¡¯s bad but also good, like too many sweet treats.¡±


    ¡®So that¡¯s why your teeth ache,¡¯ my alter ego laughs at me.I ignore him.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go check it out,¡± I say decisively. ¡°Misty doesn¡¯t seem overly concerned.¡±


    The building¡¯s steps led up towards a dark arched doorway. One door lay on the ground, the wood supporting its hinges having long since rotted away. The rest of the door didn¡¯t look far beyond this state. The other door was ajar, seemingly jammed against a mix of leaf litter and general woodland debris gathered over innumerable years.


    Peering in, we could see Misty was right: lots of dust and not a few cobwebs. Light made its way in through the narrow slit windows, casting bright beams speckled with glinting motes stirring in the air as if disturbed by our very presence.


    ¡°Shall we?¡± I invite the others.


    As we step in, the air feels heavy, as though we had entered a stuffy room that hadn¡¯t seen an open window in years. This in itself is strange. The doors were open, broken in fact, and though the windows were narrow and omitted little light, they had never been glazed. The air should have been easily circulating, yet it was stagnant. It smelt musty and a little mouldy.


    Through some of the windows, ivy vines had made their way inside, as if searching out their own little piece of the past from among the aged stones.


    A scuttle of little feet caused Misty¡¯s ears to prick up.


    ¡®Dinner?¡¯ she enquired.


    ¡®Maybe for you, girl. Sounded a bit too much like a mouse or similar to tempt my appetite.¡¯


    I laughed at her disdainful look.


    ¡®If you want to go hunt it, fine, but let me know if there is anything dangerous ahead.¡¯


    With that, she jumped ahead and disappeared into the gloom on silent paws.


    The entry hall was maybe 20 feet long, and I regretted my comments about the spooky stuff.


    It was damn creepy. And we hadn¡¯t even got to the main chamber yet.


    If this was a shrine, I sure wouldn¡¯t want to worship here. I might wake up things I would rather stayed sleeping.


    Taking a breath I am pretty sure was mirrored by the others, I stepped forward.


    At the end of the corridor was another set of doors, these still intact with one open enough for us to squeeze through.


    The chamber was circular and about 30 feet across. In the centre was a round pool, mostly dry with the exception of some puddles left by recent rain that had made its way in through some displaced roof tiles.


    In the centre of it is a broken statue rising from a low plinth.


    I heard Elara¡¯s breath catch in her throat.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, every nerve tense and alert.


    ¡°It¡¯s Myrrith, goddess of nature and balance,¡± she paused.


    ¡°She is revered by elves, among others, and it is from her that my own magic is derived.¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s broken,¡± Naomi said sadly.


    ¡°I know, angel,¡± said Elara. ¡°Something happened here that wasn¡¯t good.¡±


    Looking around the chamber, it became clearer by the moment that this place had not succumbed to the mere ravages of time.


    It had been deliberately desecrated.


    ¡°The bad, good feeling I get inside?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Naomi, that feeling. The good is what remains from my god¡¯s presence. The bad¡ªwhatever happened to her.¡±


    I could get a good idea of how the statue should look from the broken remains. She would have once depicted a beautiful woman with her head adorned with antlers and her hands holding floral wreaths and other growing things.


    Her arms were broken off. One antler also lay smashed on the floor, partially ground into dust.


    On the walls and floor around us were daubed arcane symbols that seemed to distort and flex, an effect that made me feel nauseous to look at.


    They were dark, maybe an ink made of soot, perhaps something far worse.


    I looked at my companion. Tears ran silently down her face.


    Naomi looked confused and a bit afraid. I put my hand on her shoulder in reassurance.


    I felt Misty nudge my mind and turned her way.


    She was on the other side of the central pool. Beside her was a trapdoor, its dark maw lying open.


    From its depths, a fetid stench seemed to rise, and I heard a clicking that was most definitely, not the patter of rodent feet.

 Chapter 36 – Flying lesson

    ¡®Misty?¡¯ I urgently questioned.


    She didn¡¯t answer me, just arched her back and puffed up her fur, seeming to positively grow as she growled a deep, rumbling snarl.


    As I watched, her claws seemed to grow sharper, her teeth more dangerous, and her eyes seemed to glow a deep yellow.


    ¡®What the fuck happened to my little kitty?¡¯ I think in shock at her transformation.


    ¡°Misty?¡± this time out loud.


    ¡®I hunt!¡¯ came back her guttural reply. ¡®Protect the kit.¡¯


    And leapt through the maw of the dark opening.


    Without a thought to the contrary, I grabbed Naomi and hoisted her quickly up onto the shoulder of Myrrith.


    ¡°Stay,¡± I commanded.Her eyes wide with fear, she just nodded as she stared past me to the gaping trapdoor.


    ¡°Stay with her, Elara. I need to help Misty.¡±


    ¡°But,¡± she seemed fearful and unsure, ¡°what if you need me?¡±


    ¡°I will be ok, and Naomi needs you more. Now, do you have anything I can use for light?¡±


    Our torches were packed away and would take time to light anyway¡ªtime we might not have.


    Seeming to shake herself back into focus, Elara reached out to touch my hand.I felt the flutter of mana, and a light began to shine from the back of my hand.


    ¡®Neat.¡¯ It was a bit weird¡ªno warmth, nothing to feel¡ªjust a gentle glow.


    Pulling my sword and a venom dagger, I ran to the stairs into the darkness below as Elara readied her bow to protect herself and Naomi.


    In the dank and dark stairwell, the magical light was more than enough to illuminate my way without casting confusing shadows.


    Ahead stretched a long stairwell ending in an arched opening into the blackness beyond. The heaviness in the air and the stench of decay we had felt earlier were so much worse now¡ªa weight of oppression that seemed to suck the warmth from my bones and fill me with a sense of dread.


    But far worse than that was what I saw heading up the stairs towards me.


    The skeleton looked like it came from some beast¡ªan ape perhaps. It was certainly not human.


    It pulled itself up towards me, its eyes glowing, and a faint sheen of deep purple light coated each bone, seeming to be the force holding its parts one to another.


    It pulled itself, as one leg was missing, seemingly ripped off at the hip. The click and drag of its bones were clearly heard over the rasp of my own short breaths.


    ¡®Did Misty do that?¡¯ I wondered as I headed towards it, resolution mixed with tightly controlled dread.


    Below, the snarls and crashes told me that the cat battled further beasts in the depths below.


    This one was mine.


    The temptation to charge down at it was strong, so taking a firm grip, I increased my pace until I was taking the steps two then three at a¡­


    ¡°Oh Shiiiit!¡±


    My foot skidded on a stair slick with moisture, and my descent turned into a flight.


    Head first, arms extended as I scrabbled for a purchase that wasn¡¯t there, my dagger flew from my hand, spinning away into the darkness to land God knows where.


    I was completely unable to stop my hurtling body.


    Looming below, and getting rapidly closer, the eyes of the creature locked onto mine and seemed to open wider, almost showing as much shock as I was sure I displayed.


    With an almighty crash, I hurled into the thing, and the two of us continued the rest of the way, smashing into the bottom just a second or two later.


    Groaning, I pushed myself up and readied my sword, looked down, and saw the magical glow fading from the skeleton as the remaining bones clattered apart.


    With a final sigh, the glow in its eye sockets winked out of existence.


    ¡®How the hell does a bunch of bones sigh? No damn lungs!¡¯


    [Congratulations; You have slain Skeleton Warrior lv 5. Experience gained.]


    Wincing at the bruises I could already feel developing, I spotted my dagger close by and grabbed it up.


    ¡®Not a zombie apocalypse but fuck, man, skeletons?¡¯


    I was not sure if my inner me was exultant at the thought or terrified.


    Me, I was definitely the latter.


    But I had work to do, people upstairs to protect, and I needed to figure out what the hell was going on with my damn cat.


    I headed through the archway, my light illuminating chaos.


    The floor was a maelstrom of skeletons waving a mixture of weapons and bones of the fallen as they tried to hit the furball that was Misty.


    ¡®It has to be Misty; it¡¯s ginger and killing things.¡¯


    My cat seemed to be double the size I had been used to over the seven years I had shared my home with her.


    Her fur, while ginger, appeared to be somehow more real.


    She seemed more real.


    The air thrummed with mana¡ªa deep, dark mana from the skeletons that each glowed with that purple light that somehow energised them. From above, I felt the competing mana of Myrrith, even now fighting for dominance in her desecrated shrine, and something else. A different mana, a flavour I didn¡¯t recognise, boiled out from my damn cat.


    ¡®What in all the hells has Misty gone and done now?¡¯


    I gaped, trying to understand.


    ¡®Who gives a fuck. It¡¯s working, and she¡¯s on our side. Now damn well fight before you get clonked and die.¡¯


    The room was too frantic to even think about identifying anything. I was so grateful that Elara¡¯s light thing seemed to omit no shadows, its glow evenly filling the space.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.My sword flashed left and right.


    A block of a mace here, a swipe at a head there, deflect a thigh bone and back into the mix.


    Using the dagger as well proved to be an effective method. I thought it might even be better than a shield as I could use it to stab¡­


    ¡®Nope, stabbing doesn¡¯t work at all well,¡¯ I realised.


    ¡®Nothing but holes to stab into.¡¯


    I soon figured one of the quickest methods to use was the flat of my blade to bash. Bones could break if you hit them hard enough, even ones strengthened with some wacky magic.


    The floor was becoming more littered with broken bones and scattered remnants, and I had to take greater care not to trip or slip.


    Once in a day was enough for me, thank you very much.


    I also have to be careful of my own fragility. I have taken several slashing cuts to various parts and even more bruising blows from bones thrown or swung my way.


    My increased ability to cope with injuries that in my past life would have laid me low must be down to me getting stronger as I had used my points.


    It seems the level system definitely worked.


    I just had to avoid complacency. Just because I am tougher, I can still get well and truly fucked up.


    I swing my sword at a fast-approaching skeleton with what looks like an ancient flail in its hands. On the swing, I must have caught on something behind me as I feel a tug on the blade.


    As I bring it back round to strike my intended target, there is a skull shoved on the point, stabbed through its gaping jaw.


    Behind me, I hear the clatter of bones as the rest of my lucky kill falls to the floor.


    Its head, propelled by my sword, smashes into the other in an explosion of ivory shards and ancient teeth.


    Looking around for my next target, I meet the eyes of my cute ginger ninja turned hellcat.


    The room is silent except for our own breathing.


    ¡®Is that all of them?¡¯ I ask her.


    ¡®Here yes, something other in the far room.¡¯


    Looking around, I soon see she is right. There is another archway¡ªa gaping maw into a further well of unnatural darkness.


    Beyond that door, I can feel malevolence.


    Looking around to assess the situation more fully, I have no idea how many we fought and killed. I guess I could count skulls, but to be honest, I couldn¡¯t be arsed.


    The bloody BB would give me a full update at some point, I am sure.


    With a sigh, I realise I need to be ready for another fight. That oppressive presence was not going anywhere, and if we were to cleanse this place, it would need to be removed.


    ¡®Did anything in the job description mention garbage disposal?¡¯ I sarcastically wonder.


    ¡®What fucking job description?¡¯ My answer is on point.


    With reluctance, I pull out one of the healing potions we had. I wish I didn¡¯t have to use it¡ªwe have so few¡ªbut I have a feeling I need to be in better shape than I am now for whatever it is ahead.


    As the liquid runs down my throat, I feel a warmth spreading out. I watch in wonder as cuts and bruises on my hands and arms visibly heal and fade. I crack my back and feel all my battered bits click back into place.


    Within moments, I feel fully fit and whole again.


    ¡®OK, Del, let¡¯s go fuck this a¡¯hole up.¡¯


    ¡°Misty, are you ready?¡± She gives me a look that, if I am completely honest, is a bit scary.


    ¡®Let¡¯s hunt.¡¯ she says.


    Leading the way, she prowls ahead, her every movement deliberate and sure. Even her claws clicking on the stone sound like a war drum to my ears. Meanwhile, I couldn¡¯t stop the nervous flutter in my stomach, my sword hilt slick in my grip.


    The hall is not long, maybe 20 feet, and quiet¡ªeerily so, as if it sits in wait, getting ready to pounce when it feels the moment is right.


    From somewhere, there is a drip of water. A steady drip, drip, drip, like an incipient heartbeat marking time.


    It felt alive, the air thick with the weight of something watching. My skin prickled, and my grip tightens further on the hilt of my sword as the oppressive feeling seemed to reach a crescendo, then withdraw for a moment, before once again building.


    Almost as if it moved in and out with the breath of whatever lay ahead,


    waiting.


    I look down at my cat in order to steady my nerves by leaning into her bravery.


    Misty, in this weird state she now has, was almost up past my knee. Her claws didn¡¯t seem to retract but softly clicked on the stone floor as she prowled beside me.


    Her eyes, flashing yellow, were enough to give anyone nightmares.


    ¡®So this, change¡­ Is it permanent?¡¯ I ask her.


    ¡®Just hunting.¡¯ I get back the simple answer, and I smile.


    Though this was certainly a major upgrade, I would have missed my little cat snuggles at night if she couldn¡¯t change back.


    Besides, talking with her grounded me, helped me prepare for whatever lay ahead.


    ¡®I still don¡¯t know what the fuck a retired disabled office worker is doing fighting fucking skeletons in the crypt of some damn shrine in the middle of a bloody magical wood.¡¯ I fume, my anger helping stir the adrenaline I am sure I would need any moment.


    ¡®Stop your grousing, Del, we¡¯re here.¡¯


    Sure enough, Misty and I now stood in the opening into the next chamber, the impenetrable well of black set before us.


    Daring us to enter.

 Chapter 37 – Natures Wrath

    [Congratulations. You have killed 8 Skeleton Warriors lv 5. Experience gained.]


    [Congratulations. You have killed 5 Skeleton Swordsmen lv 6. Experience gained.]


    [Congratulations. You have enough experience to level up¡ªwould you like to level up now?]


    ¡®Damnit, BB, can¡¯t you see we are kind of busy here? Bugger off.¡¯


    Misty gives me a look.


    ¡®You as well, huh?¡¯ I ask her.


    She just snorts in reply.


    Well, of course she gets some form of message from our great and powerful watchers. How else could she deal with her own level-ups?


    ¡®Or get mad crazy new skills,¡¯ I add, looking down at her in full fight mode, sleek fur bristling and claws gleaming faintly in the light.


    ¡®Shall we?¡¯ I ask her.


    And with her rumbling growl, we step into the next chamber.


    I had noticed with the first chamber that, although the stairwell had been lit by my magic light, the room beyondhad been completely blacked out until we entered.


    This seemed to be a feature of this place. From outside, the room had been hidden in its inky depths, yet as we crossed that threshold, the room lit up in the light from my hand.


    ¡®Elara, I could kiss you. This beats stumbling around in the dark.¡¯


    We had entered what appeared to be an ancient crypt. Lines of broken-open stone sarcophagi filled the centre, their shattered lids scattered across the floor. The walls were lined with carved niches containing what seemed to be assorted urns.


    Long-disused sconces sat unlit on the walls, and from the ceiling, a broken candelabra hung precariously from a single chain.


    The air smelled of stagnation and must, and the temperature had dropped considerably, biting through the remaining warmth from the hallway just behind us.


    Of course, that might have something to do with the glaringly obvious elephant in the room.


    At the opposite end of the chamber is a circle, intricately inscribed and glowing faintly with a red light. In the centre of it is a figure.


    In excess of seven feet tall, cloaked in a disturbingly black robe with a deeply cowled hood. I cannot make out its features, but I can immediately spot two things.


    In one hand, it has a large staff. The other is empty, but both hands are extremely skinny.


    ¡®Skinny? They are bones,¡¯


    I stare at the skeletal fingers.


    ¡®And what of that face?¡¯ This is a bit of a moot point, as within that deep hood it is impossible to see any sort of visage.


    Just two glowing red points of light that I absolutely know are staring right at me.


    Even Misty has gone utterly still, although I can hear her low, rumbling growl as she watches the creature ahead.


    The skeletal figure doesn¡¯t move as we enter the chamber, but the weight of its gaze¡ªthose twin red points of light in the shadows of its hood¡ªbears down on me like a physical force.


    My grip tightens on the hilts of my weapons, sweat slicking my palm despite the chill in the air.


    Misty¡¯s growl deepens, low and guttural, as her fur bristles. Her tail lashes behind her like a whip, and her ears flatten against her skull.


    It¡¯s not fear¡ªno, Misty doesn¡¯t do fear¡ªbut the tension in her body is unmistakable.


    This thing is dangerous.


    The creature¡¯s hand shifts, skeletal fingers curling slightly around the staff. Its voice rasps out, dry and brittle, like old parchment torn in half.


    ¡°You should not be here.¡±


    ¡®No shit Sherlock.¡¯


    The light of its eyes flares. The circle beneath its feet pulses with dark energy, the lines of crimson glowing brighter.


    My chest tightens as the air grows heavier, as if the crypt itself is holding its breath.


    And then it moves.


    The staff comes down with a thunderous crack, striking the stone floor. A shockwave ripples outward, visible as a distortion in the air, and I barely manage to raise my arm in time to shield my face.


    The force sends me staggering backward, boots scraping against the floor, and Misty lets out a sharp hiss as she scrambles to maintain her footing.


    It doesn¡¯t give us time to recover. A burst of crimson light shoots toward me, fast as a whip, and I barely dodge in time, feeling the searing heat as it passes inches from my shoulder. It slams into the wall behind me, carving a blackened scorch mark into the stone.


    ¡°Okay, then,¡± I mutter under my breath. ¡°This just got serious.¡±


    I charge, Misty at my side, her claws scraping against the stone as she darts forward.


    The skeletal mage shifts slightly, the red glow in its eyes flickering. It raises its free hand, and suddenly, the floor around us erupts.


    Bone fragments burst upward like jagged spikes, forming skeletal shapes that claw their way out of the ground.


    Three of them¡ªno, four¡ªlurch toward us, skeletal warriors with glowing eye sockets and jagged weapons.


    One swings at me, a rusted blade slicing through the air. I parry with my weapon, the impact jarring my arm, and twist to avoid a follow-up strike.


    Misty launches herself at another, her teeth flashing as she clamps down on its arm. The skeleton lets out a horrible screech, the sound grating like nails on glass, but Misty doesn¡¯t let go.


    She jerks her head violently, tearing the limb clean off before spinning to face the next threat.


    ¡°Good girl!¡± I shout, but my moment of distraction costs me.


    One of the skeletons manages to get past my guard, its clawed hand raking across my side.


    Pain flares hot and sharp, and I grit my teeth, feeling the warmth of blood soaking through my shirt.


    I slam the hilt of my weapon into the skeleton¡¯s skull, shattering it with a satisfying crunch. It collapses in a heap of bone and dust, but there¡¯s no time to celebrate.


    Another one is already coming at me, its weapon raised.


    The necromancer watches it all impassively, standing within the glowing circle.


    Its skeletal hand moves in a slow, deliberate motion, and the air around it seems to ripple like heat haze.


    I catch a glimpse of something¡ªno, someone¡ªstanding in the shadows behind the necromancer, a translucent figure with hollow eyes.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.A ghost. It flickers, and then it¡¯s gone, but the chill it leaves behind is unmistakable.


    I am frozen, unable to move.


    ¡®Del!¡¯ Misty¡¯s voice cuts through the chaos in my mind, sharp and urgent.


    I snap out of it and turn just in time to avoid a large bone hitting my head.


    I glance her way to see her leap out of the way of another skeleton, her fur singed where one of the necromancer¡¯s crimson blasts grazed her.


    She¡¯s limping slightly, her movements slower than before, but her eyes burn with fierce determination.


    I don¡¯t have time to check on her.


    The necromancer¡¯s staff slams down again, and this time, the circle¡¯s glow intensifies.


    Dark tendrils of energy snake outward, crawling across the floor like living things. One of them latches onto my ankle, and a freezing pain shoots up my leg, making me stumble.


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t!¡±


    I swing my weapon downward, severing the tendril. It dissipates in a puff of black smoke, but the damage is done. My leg feels heavy, numb, like it¡¯s been dipped in ice water.


    Misty lunges at the necromancer, her claws extended, but she¡¯s stopped mid-air.


    The necromancer¡¯s bony hand gestures, and she¡¯s flung backward by an invisible force, slamming into the wall with a sickening thud.


    She slides to the ground, dazed but still conscious.


    ¡°Get up, Misty!¡± I shout, panic clawing at my throat. ¡°Come on, girl!¡±


    The necromancer turns its attention back to me, the red glow in its eyes flaring once more.


    It raises its staff, and with a rumble, spears of bone leap upwards.


    I am forced to leap onto a sarcophagus to avoid getting impaled, somehow balancing on my one good leg.


    The skeleton starts to laugh, the sound echoing and beyond evil.


    I know¡ªinstinctively, deeply¡ªthat whatever it¡¯s about to do will end me if I don¡¯t act now.


    I hurl myself forward, ignoring the pain in my side and the numbness in my leg.


    My weapon comes down in a desperate arc, aiming for the staff, the source of its power.


    The necromancer blocks me with its skeletal hand, the sound of bone against steel ringing out like a bell.


    Sparks fly as we clash, and for a moment, we¡¯re locked in a battle of strength and will.


    Its empty gaze meets mine, and I can feel the sheer malice radiating from it, a tide of hatred that threatens to devour me.


    But I don¡¯t back down. I can¡¯t back down!


    With a roar, I twist my weapon free and swing again.


    This time, I connect. The staff splinters under the force of my strike, shards of black wood scattering across the floor.


    The necromancer lets out an unearthly scream, its skeletal frame convulsing as the glow in the circle flickers.


    ¡°Down!¡± A voice echoes from behind me, and I turn to see Elara standing at the entrance to the chamber, her bow drawn.


    Her eyes are focused, determined, and the arrow in her hands glows brightly with magic.


    I dive to the floor.


    She releases.


    The arrow streaks through the air, striking the necromancer square in the chest.


    The impact sends it staggering backward, and out from the circle beneath its feet.


    The stone begins to crack, crimson light seeping through the fractures, before flaring brightly and dying.


    The remaining skeletons collapse in heaps of bone and dust, their connection to the necromancer severed.


    The figure itself crumples to the ground, its robe pooling around it like spilled ink. The red lights in its eyes dim, fading to nothing.


    I stagger backward, breathing hard, my body aching from the fight.


    Misty limps over to me, her movements slow but steady, and I drop to one knee to check her over.


    ¡°You did good, girl,¡± I say, my voice hoarse.


    She nuzzles my hand, her warmth grounding me. Slowly, she starts to shrink back to her normal cuteness.


    Elara steps further into the chamber, her bow still in hand, and looks down at the necromancer¡¯s remains.


    ¡°Is it dead?¡± she asks, her voice wary.


    I glance at the broken staff and the cracked circle, then back at the motionless heap of black robes.


    ¡°It better be,¡± I mutter, but I don¡¯t take my eyes off it. Not yet.


    The chill in the air begins to fade, and for the first time, I notice how quiet the crypt has become.


    [Congratulations. You have killed Skeleton Necromancer lvl 9; Experience gained.]


    [Congratulations. You have advanced your primary cuvat: Points added.]


    [Congratulations. You have advanced your secondary cuvat: Points added.]


    ¡®Damn, I don¡¯t want to do that again in a hurry,¡¯ I say to my cat as she starts to fastidiously clean her fur.


    Misty gives me a look. I can see she agrees with me.


    I look up at Elara as she comes closer.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Naomi?¡±¡°Sat on the stairs where I left her.¡± She pauses. ¡°I hope.¡±


    Turning, she rapidly heads back to check on the girl.


    As she leaves, I start rooting through the dry old bones that had just now been trying so hard to kill me.


    There is little of value¡ªno rings, the staff is broken, and skeletons don¡¯t usually bother with money.


    The one curious thing I do find is the mage¡¯s skull, which gives off distinct magical vibrations.


    With nothing else of value here, I wrap the skull in cloth from its robes and head back to the others.


    Once I am back up in the main chamber, I can see it has been cleaned up a bit. Debris has been pushed aside, and the broken parts from the statue have been placed reverently in the pool basin.


    ¡°When I find a temple, I will let them know of this shrine so it can be repaired and rededicated,¡± Elara informs me.


    Even without that being done, I can feel the change in the ambient mana. No longer is it tainted with that earlier darkness; it now emits a clean and wholesome energy.


    ¡°You know both Misty and I probably owe you our lives,¡± I tell her. ¡°Where did you learn that arrow thing?¡±


    She smiles at me radiantly, obvious joy in her eyes.


    ¡°The place may be a bit broken, but it is still of Myrrith.¡± She looks at the statue.


    ¡°She knew my need and gave me the ability. It¡¯s called Nature¡¯s Wrath. It will only work against things that are intrinsically evil or go against the will of Myrrith as the Mother of Nature. But it¡¯s certainly showed its worth today.¡±


    I go over and give her a big hug, then Naomi squeezes in as well.


    ¡°Just let her know, I said thanks.¡±

 Chapter 38 – Clean up

    I wander over to the empty pool and start examining it. Near the plinth in the centre is what appears to be a drainage hole. Although Myrrith¡¯s arms are broken off, a closer look soon reveals the presence of piping. It¡¯s tarnished and caked with muck, but it¡¯s there¡ªhidden veins of something that once pulsed with purpose.


    ¡°I think this was once a fountain,¡± I tell Elara, brushing away some of the dirt to expose more of the old piping.


    She looks up with interest from where she¡¯s sitting, resting her hands on her knees. After a moment, she rises and joins me, her curiosity clear in the way her eyes flicker over the statue.


    ¡°A fountain?¡± she asks, crouching beside me.


    I nod, pointing to the drainage hole and a faint line where the piping curves downward.


    ¡°See? It must¡¯ve drawn water in from somewhere below. Maybe from an underground spring.¡±


    Elara tilts her head, studying it with an intent frown.


    ¡°If that¡¯s the case, the spring could still be active. The water flowing here would have become saturated in nature affinity mana.¡± The thought of it fills her with enthusiasm. ¡°Certain potions and elixirs benefit greatly from mana-infused sources.¡±


    ¡°Nice,¡± I reply, standing and brushing the dirt off my hands.


    ¡°Well, if you two want to start clearing some of the debris out of here, I¡¯ll see if I can do anything with this.¡±


    She straightens, her lips quirking into a soft smile.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what we can manage. Just don¡¯t break anything.¡±


    ¡®As if, I¡¯m a master plumber by nature,¡¯ I try to reassure myself.


    ¡®And who the fuck do you think you are kidding, Del?¡¯


    ¡°No promises,¡± I mutter, though the smile I flash her is genuine.


    Misty stretches from where she¡¯s perched on the edge of the pool, watching us both with that too-knowing gaze of hers.


    ¡®Water?¡¯ Her tone is not the least enamoured at the thought. Her tail flicks once before she hops down and pads over to Elara, sniffing at the hem of her tunic as though deciding whether or not to assist.


    ¡°You can help too,¡± I say dryly, pointing at her. ¡°Don¡¯t just supervise.¡±


    She lets out a little mew, flicks her tail again, and pointedly ignores me.


    Elara chuckles, brushing strands of hair away from her face.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to earn her cooperation.¡±


    I shake my head.


    ¡®Damn fool cat.¡¯


    ¡°Yeah, right, Elara, as if that ever works.¡±


    Elara leans down and gives the moggy the scritches behind her ears that she loves so much.


    ¡°See, Del, she¡¯s such a good girl.¡± And from lord knows where the elf produces a little nibble of bacon for the purring cat.


    I just turn my attention back to the plinth.


    The fountain mechanism is intriguing, and if there¡¯s any chance of getting it working again, it might be worth the effort. I crouch down, running my hands along the base of the plinth, feeling for anything out of place¡ªan indentation, a panel, a loose stone.


    Behind me, Elara begins shifting debris, humming under her breath. The sound is soft and soothing, blending with the quiet rustle of Misty¡¯s movements and the occasional faint drip of water still finding its way in from the roof above.


    ¡°Do you think followers of Myrrith used this place often?¡± I ask, more to break the silence than anything.


    ¡°She might have,¡± Elara replies. ¡°Shrines like this were often tied to rituals of renewal. A fountain, especially one connected to a spring, would¡¯ve symbolised life and balance. It¡¯s sad to see it in such disrepair.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I murmur, fingers catching on a groove in the stone. ¡°But it¡¯s not beyond hope.¡±


    The groove feels too precise to be a natural crack, and as I press against it, a faint click can be heard. I glance at Elara, who pauses mid-motion, her ears perking slightly.


    ¡°What was that?¡± she asks, setting down a piece of rubble.


    ¡°Good question.¡± I push harder, and a section of the plinth¡¯s base shifts, revealing a hidden panel. As I ease it open, I am washed with a flow of mana, and my butterfly sensation tells me I have found something magical. Inside, faintly glowing runes pulse with a soft green light, casting an otherworldly glow over the stone.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s promising,¡± I mutter, leaning closer.


    Elara joins me, brushing her hands off on her tunic before crouching down.


    ¡°What did you find?¡±


    ¡°Some kind of control mechanism. Looks like it¡¯s still functional, though I wouldn¡¯t bet my life on it.¡±


    ¡°Careful,¡± she warns, watching as I trace the runes with a tentative finger.


    ¡°I¡¯m always careful,¡± I reply, though the smirk I shoot her earns an unimpressed arch of her brow.


    ¡®Absolutely, the perfect example of carefully considered action.¡¯ Why do I always sound so downright smug when getting all sarcastic with myself?


    Elara moves off to continue clearing the chamber while I get to work.


    The mechanism is intricate, a blend of nature magic and craftsmanship that feels both ancient and timeless. Peering down, I can see a pool of water. The surface ripples with sporadic bubbles, and I can see a slow flow heading off, possibly to join the river not far away.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve found the spring. It¡¯s directly below, maybe ten feet beneath us,¡± I tell her.


    As I study the runes, a faint hum fills the air, and the pool below us begins to ripple with more vigour. Just our presence seems to be having an effect.


    ¡®OK, this needs a little work. Stop and think it through.¡¯


    I select my thinnest knife, a stiletto that was almost certainly the one to end poor Lucas back in the woods, and, with care, start to use it to clean leaves and dirt from the drainage hole.


    I call over Naomi, who is busy entertaining herself with our ginger feline.


    She runs over, a big smile on her face. Misty rolls back to her feet and slinks off to find a sun-warmed spot.


    ¡®The kitten has too much energy,¡¯ she grumbles to me.


    ¡®Meh, she just likes you, a lot,¡¯ I respond as I feel her settle down for a nap.


    ¡°Alright, Naomi,¡± I tell her in a serious voice. ¡°I have a very, very important job for you.¡±


    She looks at me in excited anticipation.


    ¡°I am going to fix Myrrith as best I can, but I need you to clear all the leaves and other bits from the pool so it doesn¡¯t all block straight back up.¡±


    A hint of disappointment that it wasn¡¯t something more exciting crosses her face, but then she perks up.


    ¡°Sure, then can I play with Misty again?¡±


    ¡°If you get it really clean so Myrrith would be proud of it,¡± I say, to her delighted grin.


    In my mind, I am sure I hear a certain cat groan.


    Getting the drain clear doesn¡¯t take too long, and I test it by pouring some water from my skin down it. Through the access panel, I can see the water flowing out freely to drop to the spring below.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.Now I just need to figure out how to turn it on. Although the outflow pipes were broken along with the arms, I doubt the internal pathways are damaged, so it should work.


    ¡®Teach, Menolly, anyone? How do I make this thing work?¡¯


    I don¡¯t expect an answer; they are not the most forthright of watchers.


    I sigh.


    ¡®What about you, Myrrith? Are you more responsive? It''s your bloody fountain.¡¯


    I am not sure, but I could swear I heard a far-off laugh.


    Elara turns, her expression shifting from curiosity at what we were doing to awe as a wave of mana pulses through the room. There is a moment of presence, powerful yet abstract. In but a fleeting moment, it is gone once more, and with a series of splutters and gurgles, the fountain stirs to life.


    The water flows unevenly, spurting from the broken elbows of the statue and cascading into the basin below.


    Naomi gives a yelp and jumps out of the pool.


    ¡°Cold,¡± she shivers.


    ¡°It works,¡± Elara breathes, her voice tinged with wonder.


    ¡°Sort of,¡± I reply, wiping sweat from my brow. ¡°Not exactly the majestic display it probably used to be, but hey, progress.¡±


    Misty stretches and pads over, sniffing at the edge of the pool before dipping a paw into the water. She flicks it out, spraying droplets everywhere, then promptly decides the fountain is her new personal plaything.


    ¡°Really?¡± I ask, watching as she bats at the water with unrestrained glee.


    Elara laughs softly. ¡°She¡¯s enjoying herself. Let her be.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± I mutter, though I can¡¯t help but smile.


    The next few hours pass in a steady rhythm of clearing debris, cleaning the walls, and gathering together the broken parts of the shrine.


    Elara hums occasionally as she works, and even Misty pitches in, though her definition of ¡°helping¡± mostly involves chasing stray bits of rubble or curling up on freshly cleared patches of stone.


    Seeing everything in the shrine chamber is under control, I consider the rest of the building. Those skeletons hadn¡¯t asked to be raised and used against the living. They deserved better.


    Reverently, I go down the stairs, collecting up the scattered skeletal remains and carrying them back to the crypt chamber. The act feels... necessary. Restorative, even.


    I have no way of knowing which bone goes with which skull, or even if it matters. In the crypt, I create a neat pile of all the bones. I had seen pictures in the past of famous catacombs that had similar features.


    I felt it fitting here.


    Elara doesn¡¯t say much as I work, but the quiet respect in her gaze speaks volumes.


    When we finally step back to admire our progress, the chamber feels less like a tomb and more like a place of worship again.


    It¡¯s not perfect¡ªfar from it¡ªbut the oppressive weight that had hung over the shrine is now fully gone.


    ¡°It¡¯s amazing what a little effort can do,¡± Elara says, leaning against the plinth and wiping her hands on a cloth.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I reply, stretching and wincing as my muscles protest.


    ¡°Feels good to fix something for once instead of just surviving.¡±


    ¡°The crypt will need to be re-consecrated,¡± she tells me.


    ¡°And the other repairs, the statue, the doors. Still a lot to do,¡± I agree.


    She nods, her gaze drifting to the fountain. The water flows steadily now, its surface shimmering with a faint green glow that seems to echo Myrrith¡¯s presence.


    ¡°You think she¡¯s watching?¡± Elara asks, gesturing to the statue.


    ¡°Maybe. I think she is.¡±


    ¡®Thank you, Myrrith,¡¯ I send out the thought to the goddess I knew full well was watching.


    Misty hops onto the edge of the pool, her tail flicking as she stares into the water. For a moment, she looks almost... reverent. Then she sneezes, disrupting the serene moment entirely.


    ¡°Thanks for that,¡± I say, chuckling as she leaps down and saunters off as if nothing happened.


    Elara laughs, and the sound is warm and genuine, chasing away the lingering shadows of the day. I can see the effect of this area, and its strong ties to her own deity, has refreshed and invigorated her after the recent trials.


    For the first time in what feels like forever, the world doesn¡¯t seem quite so heavy.


    As Elara starts to gather the necessary  bits to cook dinner I sit on the edge of the pool and consider my notices.


    Levels, and a good thing too.


    ¡®We need to get stronger¡¯ I tell Misty who looks at me in agreement.


    Those fights had been tough and the results showed. 3 levels and six points were not to be sneezed at.


    I put two more onto Strength and Dexterity and then one each on Intelligence and Wisdom.


    ¡®Damn Del, I am even starting to impress myself.¡¯


    Name: Del Axholm


    Level: 9


    Path: Archer


    Health: 66


    Strength: 22


    Dexterity: 20


    Stamina: 21


    Intelligence: 15


    Wisdom: 13


    Mana: 67


    Spirit: 58


    Agility: 29


    Presence: 10


    Animal Companion: Misty; feline


    Skills:


    Archery lvl 3 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows


    Woodcraft lvl 3 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.


    Tracking lvl 2 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.


    Traps lvl 1 ¨C Can make basic snares and pit traps.


    Sneak lvl 3 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.


    Herbalism lvl 2 ¨C Can identify and gather basic herbs.


    Skinning lvl 3 ¨C Can manage to roughly skin a carcass.


    Leadership lvl 1 - Able to command small groups of up to 20.


    Attacks:


    Bow lvl 3 ¨C Simple Shot.


    Sword lvl 7 ¨C Cut, thrust.


    Dagger lvl 4 ¨C Stab, Slash.


    Special Attacks:


    Bow:


    Sneak attack lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage


    Master Archer lvl 1 ¨C Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.


    Dagger:


    Backstab lvl 2 ¨C Double damage.


    Two Handed Melee lvl 3 ¨C Two weapon fighting, twice the fun.


    Name: Misty


    Level: 10


    Path: Feline Companion


    Health: 62


    Strength: 16


    Dexterity: 22


    Stamina: 19


    Intelligence: 12


    Wisdom: 6


    Mana: 60


    Spirit: 15


    Agility: 32


    Presence: 20


    Skills:


    Charm lvl 4 ¨C Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.


    Transform lvl 1 ¨C Can assume Hellcat form, Strength, Dexterity and Health Double for 15 minutes, These values halved for 30 minutes after effect ends.


    Attacks:


    Claw lvl 7 ¨C Attack with front claws.


    Rake lvl 5 ¨C Double rear leg attack.

 Chapter 39 – Elarion Grove

    We decided to take the next day a bit easy. Frazzled nerves and weary bones do not necessarily make the best hiking companions.


    Misty, thankfully, appears to have fully recovered, and she chuckles at me when I suggest she should rest.


    ¡®What else is a cat supposed to do when not hunting?¡¯ was her joking answer as she stretched out in a shaft of sunlight.


    ¡®You are certainly a very good hunter,¡¯ I compliment her.


    ¡®And you need more training,¡¯ she quips back.


    ¡®Hey! Unfair.¡¯


    ¡®Maybe, but true.¡¯ I could swear she was grinning at me.


    I shake my head at the lounging cat. She is getting a lot more talkative, at least when relaxed and not engaged in other activities. I notice how, when focused on a hunt, her words get very short and to the point, as if conversation is a distraction from the main point of importance at that moment.


    Looking around, I see that Naomi is lying down, eyes closed. It seems she has gone ¡®flying¡¯¡ªher term for an astral projection. I wander over to join Elara, where she sits in quiet contemplation on the pool edge.


    ¡°She is getting better at that,¡± I say, indicating the recumbent child.


    ¡°Mmm, and stronger. Her control over her mana grows every day.¡±


    ¡°Do you worry she is rushing things?¡± I ask.


    Elara ponders for a bit before shaking her head. ¡°She is doing what all children do when given something new: playing with it and learning all she can about how it works. I feel she will be a strong oracle as time goes on.¡±


    ¡°And how about you? This must all be very raw¡ªto see the shrine of your own god reduced to this.¡±


    ¡°Yes and no, Del.¡± She looks up at me, and there is a soft smile on her lips.


    ¡°Myrrith is the goddess of nature but also of balance, so she presides over things and experiences both good and bad and aims to achieve harmony.¡± She waves her hand around, indicating the shrine.


    ¡°While this is sad to see in this state, balance demands that it will be brought back to wholeness again. We have already started that process in ridding it of the corruption.¡±


    I think I get it, so I nod.


    ¡°Perhaps one of the stories about Myrrith will help you to see better who she is?¡± she suggests.


    ¡°Sure, why not.¡± I settle down to maybe learn a bit more about this land that is, for now at least, my home.


    She starts to weave her tale, her voice melodic, almost a song in the way her words rise and fall. I feel hypnotised by the sound.


    ¡°In the ancient days of Gondowa, when empires rose and fell like the tides, there was a kingdom known as Varynith. Its king, Tharion the Ravenous, was a man of boundless ambition. His armies scoured the land, devouring forests to feed his war machines, enslaving druids to twist nature''s gifts to his will. Yet, among his many conquests, there was one place that refused to bow¡ªElarion Grove, a sanctuary of life protected by the goddess Myrrith.¡±


    As she speaks, I can start to see images, I feel myself transported to this even more ancient land.


    ¡°Elarion Grove was said to be her heart made manifest, a living embodiment of balance and vitality. Towering oaks whispered ancient secrets, their roots intertwined with streams of crystal-clear water. The air hummed with mana, vibrant and untamed. Druids spoke of seeing Myrrith herself walking among the glades, her antlers wreathed in ivy, her touch bringing blossoms to bloom. The grove was a beacon of harmony, untouched by the greed of men.¡±


    The scent of the flowers, the warm touch of the earth, the resinous sap of the trees, all come alive to my senses.


    ¡°But to King Tharion, Elarion was an untapped resource. The mana-rich soil and ancient timber were treasures he could not ignore. He declared that no grove, no matter how sacred, would deny his will. And so, he sent forth his army¡ªa host of ten thousand soldiers armed with blades that gleamed like winter¡¯s frost and hearts hardened by conquest.¡±


    And the sound of tramping feet can be heard in the distance, along with the ringing of metal on metal. An army approaches.


    ¡°As Tharion¡¯s army marched, the druids of Elarion Grove gathered beneath the Moonstone Oak, their most sacred tree. Its silvery bark shimmered under the night sky, and its canopy stretched wide enough to cradle the stars. They prayed fervently to Myrrith, their voices rising like a chorus of leaves rustling in the wind.


    ¡®Myrrith, Keeper of Balance, hear us,¡¯ they implored. ¡®The blades of men come to sever our roots. Will you forsake us in this dark hour?¡¯¡±


    I feel my heart yearning with theirs, joining their prayers for salvation from the coming horde.


    ¡°For days, there was silence. The druids, fearing their goddess had turned away, prepared to stand alone. Yet as the dawn broke on the day of Tharion''s assault, the air grew thick with a sense of watchful anticipation. The leaves whispered a name that only the trees could pronounce, and the ground seemed to quiver with latent power.¡±


    Even as the story progresses, I feel the stirring of mana within me.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°The army arrived at the edge of the grove, their banners fluttering in the cold wind. General Kaelor, Tharion''s most trusted commander, surveyed the forest with disdain.


    ¡®Burn it,¡¯ he commanded, his voice sharp as an axe. ¡®Cut the heart from this place. Let it bleed so our kingdom may thrive.¡¯


    The soldiers advanced, torches in hand. As they stepped beneath the canopy, the air shifted. The birds fell silent, and the sunlight dimmed as though the grove itself rejected their presence. Shadows deepened, and the scent of wildflowers turned to something earthy and ancient, like petrichor after a storm.¡±


    I feel tears stinging my eyes. I feel fear and despair. No, this can¡¯t be.


    ¡°Then she appeared.


    From the heart of the grove came a figure of otherworldly grace. Myrrith emerged, her form both delicate and unyielding. Her antlers glowed faintly, adorned with tendrils of ivy and blossoms that seemed to bloom and wither in an endless cycle. Her eyes, as green as new spring leaves, held an infinite sorrow.


    ¡®You tread where no man should,¡¯ she said, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. ¡®Leave now, and I will forget this trespass. Persist, and you shall find no mercy here.¡¯¡±


    Myrrith! She came.


    ¡°Kaelor sneered. ¡®You are but a phantom of superstition. Stand aside, or fall with your trees.¡¯


    He raised his sword, signalling the charge. The soldiers roared, their torches flaring bright as they rushed forward. But before they could take another step, the ground erupted beneath them. Vines, thick as a man¡¯s arm, shot forth, ensnaring their legs. Trees groaned as their branches twisted unnaturally, reaching out to pluck weapons from hands and helmets from heads.


    Yet the army did not falter. They hacked at the vines, their blades glinting with unnatural sharpness, and torches set the underbrush ablaze. The grove cried out in pain, its harmony shattered by fire and steel.¡±


    I turn my head rapidly; everywhere I look I see these men of steel hacking, smell the stench of the burning flames, feel the pain of the very trees themselves.


    ¡°Myrrith stood at the grove''s edge, her sorrow deepening as she watched the destruction. For centuries, she had upheld balance, nurturing life without taking it. But now, as the flames spread and the cries of her grove grew louder, her sorrow turned to resolve.¡±


    I feel her pain, my tears flood my cheeks. Then I feel her anger.


    ¡°She knelt and placed her hands upon the earth. ¡®I have warned you,¡¯ she whispered. ¡®Now, you shall become what you sought to destroy.¡¯


    A ripple spread from where she touched the ground. The soldiers paused as the air grew heavy, their breaths hitching in their chests. The torches flickered and died, replaced by an eerie green glow. The earth beneath their feet shifted, softening, pulling.¡±


    Panic, fear. Horses fleeing in terror as Myrrith¡¯s wrath flares.


    ¡°Kaelor shouted for them to stand firm, but it was too late. Their armour groaned, bending and fusing to their bodies. Skin hardened into bark, and cries of fear became the rustling of leaves. Where men had stood, trees now rose, their twisted forms bearing faint echoes of their former selves. Some reached skyward as if in silent prayer, while others leaned toward the grove as though seeking forgiveness.


    The transformation spread like wildfire. The once-mighty host of Tharion became a forest unto itself, a grim reminder of the price of hubris. The grove, now larger and denser than before, stood renewed but haunted by the forms of the fallen.¡±


    Silence.


    ¡°Word of the army¡¯s fate reached King Tharion, and his ambition turned to fear. He ordered his remaining forces to leave Elarion Grove untouched, declaring it a place cursed by the gods. The grove became a forbidden land, its edges marked by strange, gnarled trees that seemed to watch all who approached.


    Among the druids, the tale of Myrrith¡¯s wrath became a lesson and a warning: balance must be respected, for even the gentlest hand can become an unyielding fist when harmony is threatened.¡±


    Peace.


    ¡°As for the grove, it thrived. The trees that had once been men now stood as silent sentinels, their forms blending with the natural beauty around them. Some said they could still hear whispers in the wind, faint echoes of the soldiers'' voices. Others claimed that Myrrith herself walked among the new trees, ensuring they found peace in their eternal stillness.¡±


    As harmony fills my vision and my heart, Elara¡¯s closing words complete her magical tale.


    ¡°And so, the legend of Myrrith''s Gift of Roots was born¡ªa tale not of vengeance, but of balance restored. It is said that those who seek her favour must first offer respect to the grove, for it holds the memories of those who dared to defy her and lost themselves to the forest¡¯s embrace.¡±


    I shudder as all the emotions and visions subside. The last to fade is the weird feeling I get from the statue. I look up at it, and I swear, for just a moment, it is not broken but whole, and as I look, it looks back at me and smiles warmly.


    I blink and look back at it. Just a broken stone statue.


    Naomi comes over.


    ¡°I saw it,¡± she says quietly. ¡°I saw them all like I was there.¡±


    ¡°What happened, Elara?¡± My voice is filled with awe and curiosity. ¡°That was like no other story I have ever heard.¡±


    The elf just shakes her head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It must be because we are in her shrine. I felt like Myrrith herself was here with us. As if it was her words, not mine.¡±


    Misty saunters over and flops on her side next to me.


    ¡®She was here,¡¯ was her simple confirmation. ¡®Now, can we go hunt? Maybe I will be able to teach even you how it should be done.¡¯


    I just burst out laughing, getting questioning looks from Elara and Naomi.


    ¡°Misty has been complaining that I suck at hunting and wants to take me out for some lessons,¡± I laugh.


    Elara grins.


    ¡°I saw some dinkus,¡± Naomi tells me, ¡°about half a mile further up the hill.¡±


    ¡°Excellent. Does that suit you, girl?¡± I ask the cat.


    ¡®Suitable. Come. We hunt.¡¯


    I gather up a bow and a quiver of arrows, check my sword and skinning knife are secure, snatch up a water skin, and follow Misty out of the shrine.


    Time to hunt.

 Chapter 40 – Step one: stop being human

    It¡¯s late afternoon as the two of us leave the building and head out on our hunting trip.


    ¡°So, a nice bit of fresh venison tonight sound good to you?¡± I ask her.


    ¡®I get the liver,¡¯ I am assertively informed


    Stepping carefully over a broken branch, I nod my head.


    ¡°I find deer liver too rich for me. I prefer lamb.¡±


    Memories of a steaming homemade hotpot, the flavour of mutton enhanced with the addition of lamb liver, cause me to salivate. My reminiscence is disturbed by Misty¡¯s snort.


    ¡®It¡¯s a dinkus, or did you not pay attention to the kitten?¡¯


    I just chuckle at her. ¡°Forgive me, oh wise and powerful teacher.¡±


    She stops, sits down, and, glancing up at me with a look exclusively assigned to cats, proceeds to start washing herself.


    I chuckle and hold up my hands in surrender.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m sorry, lass,¡± I crouch and stroke her head just the way she loves best.


    ¡°Am I forgiven?¡±


    I get another of her looks.


    ¡®Come,¡¯ is her terse reply, then she stands and continues on to the next clump of trees.


    The area around here reminds me of the English countryside. Now we are moving down the valley, the rougher terrain has been replaced with a broad valley between rolling hills, dotted with meadows amidst copses both large and small. The grass is lush and scattered with small flowers. Now and then, my herbalism skill draws me to a herb or other useful plant. The most common is still feldspar, but I also find and am able to identify some others. The most prominent is Dewberry Moss, which I spot growing near a small tributary stream.


    Dewberry Moss: Medicinal Plant. Grows in damp caves and near running water and waterfalls. Apply to burns and stings for near-instant relief and rapid skin regeneration.


    I had also found and gathered some more silverbloom.


    ¡°I¡¯m becoming quite the plant collector,¡± I say to Misty.


    ¡®They can¡¯t run away when you hunt them,¡¯ is her amused reply.


    ¡®Damn cat really doesn¡¯t think much of me as a hunter.¡¯ I grump.


    We continue on in this way, slowly meandering in the direction Naomi had told us. Misty pauses at a small tussock of grass and looks at me.


    ¡°What?¡± I ask her.


    Her answer is to look at the ground near her feet and then back up at me.


    ¡®Why does this remind me of my damn driving test?¡¯ I puzzle about what she wants of me.


    ¡®No mate, it¡¯s worse. In a driving test, they at least tell you what to do next.¡¯


    She isn¡¯t giving me any clues, just staring at me with those damned eyes judging me.


    I crouch down and look at the area near her. Finally giving up, I sigh and start to stand.


    ¡®Look at the grass stems, see how they are broken,¡¯ she says, her voice sounding frustrated. ¡®And smell them. The scent of dinkus is on them.¡¯


    ¡°Hey, not fair! My nose isn¡¯t like yours.¡±


    ¡®Then train it better or get better with looking,¡¯ she quips back.


    I get back and study the clump of grass carefully. To me, it smells of, well, grass. But I can just about see what she means by the broken stems.


    ¡®She has a big advantage being down low all the time,¡¯ I think.


    Her ears twitch forwards.


    ¡®Talk like me, prey is close,¡¯ she instructs me.


    ¡®OK, Misty, which way?¡¯ and I quietly unsling my bow.


    ¡®Follow, stay quiet.¡¯


    I had noticed before how, when she gets into a hunt, her words get less and her tone terser. Misty was shifting gear; the hunt was on. Staying low, we creep forward. Ahead is a small stand of scraggly trees, which we make our way through, Misty leading on silent paws. Me doing my best to emulate her stealth.


    I am not as good as her and get regular glances back, letting me know this. After a slow approach, we are crouching behind some low shrubs. Across the field, a small group of dinkus are grazing.


    ¡®Watch them,¡¯ Misty instructs me. ¡®See, one  has its head up looking around, sniffing the air.¡¯


    I nod, afraid to speak, even in my head, lest I spook them.


    ¡®Remain here, I go. If they flee, I pounce.¡¯


    ¡®Gotcha,¡¯ I acknowledge in a mental whisper.


    ¡®I signal, you shoot. Let us hunt.¡¯


    I withdraw an arrow from my quiver and inspect it as Misty vanishes from sight. Quietly, I run the feathers¡ªI think I recall Elara calling them fletching, but at this moment I¡¯m not sure¡ªthrough my lips, damping them slightly.


    ¡®Why did you do that?¡¯


    I pause, not actually sure. ¡®I think I saw Robin Hood doing it in some movie or other.¡¯


    ¡®Great job, Del. You suck a fucking feather ¡®cos some bloody Hollywood goon thought it looked cool.¡¯


    ¡®Pay attention!¡¯ Misty¡¯s voice snaps at me. ¡®Be ready.¡¯


    I push the point of the slightly damp arrow into the ground at my side and draw a fresh one, which I quickly nock. Looking down the shaft length, I wait for the order to fire.


    I feel Misty, readying her pounce.


    ¡®I just know her butt is twitching right now.¡¯ I laugh quietly to myself.


    ¡®Now.¡¯


    On her short, sharp command, I draw the string and loose my arrow. As it flies, the dinkus on watch turns and senses something. A snort. The group startles and, with incredible agility, surges into action, simultaneously leaping in whatever direction they faced before spinning to run away from me. My arrow scores a hit, low down in the flank of one of the creatures.


    The hit is not in a vital area. It¡¯s not enough.


    A huge ginger cat sails through the air, landing on the back of the dinkus I wounded. In a move I had only before seen in a documentary, her teeth clamp on the animal''s throat and bring it down in a cloud of dust and scattered grass.


    In a thunder of hooves, the rest of the herd rapidly disappears.


    I sit by a tree, the carcass hanging by its legs to let the blood drain, following the instructions Elara had drummed into me before we left.


    Misty lounges on a low branch nearby, her sleek form highlighted by the slowly setting sun. She¡¯s been watching me for a while now, her tail flicking in what I¡¯ve come to recognise as barely contained disapproval.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.¡°Something on your mind, Misty?¡± I ask, breaking the silence.


    ¡®Oh, only the usual existential dread about being tethered to a subpar hunter,¡¯ she responds, her voice clear and laced with mockery in my head.


    ¡°Hey, no fair, Misty. When did you get to swallow a dictionary?¡±


    She stretches, her claws glinting in the sunlight.


    ¡®I put plenty of points into intelligence, Del. Maybe you should try the same.¡¯


    Before I can come back with more of my witty repartee, she continues her assessment of our hunting trip.


    ¡®Really, Del, you¡¯d think by now you¡¯d have mastered the basics. It¡¯s almost endearing how bad you are at this.¡¯


    I chuckle, getting up to check the dinkus and taking out my knife. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as constructive criticism.¡±


    ¡®It¡¯s not,¡¯ she retorts, leaping down from the branch with effortless grace. She pads over, tail high, and sits just out of reach.


    ¡®Let¡¯s talk about our recent hunt, shall we?¡¯


    ¡°Oh, do we have to?¡± I groan, testing the sharpness of the knife against my thumb.


    ¡®Yes, we do.¡¯ Her tone is mock-serious, though her whiskers twitch in amusement. ¡®What exactly was your plan when you scared that herd of dinkus halfway to the next continent? Was it a performance art piece? Some abstract commentary on human futility?¡¯


    ¡°I shot at them,¡± I say defensively. ¡°And I hit one.¡±


    ¡®Barely.¡¯ Her mental laugh is rich and melodious. ¡®On our approach, you stomped through the underbrush like a drunken troll! I think even the worms were fleeing for their lives.¡¯


    I roll my eyes. ¡°Not all of us have the advantage of being perfectly silent, oh great Huntress of the Wilds.¡±


    ¡®It¡¯s not my fault you walk like your legs are made of broken cartwheels,¡¯ she quips, settling into a loaf position and curling her tail around her paws. ¡®You know, Del, there¡¯s a reason your kind invented farming. Stick to that. It¡¯s less embarrassing for everyone.¡¯


    I shake my head, unable to keep the grin off my face. ¡°Alright, oh wise one, what¡¯s your advice, then? How should I improve?¡±


    She cocks her head, her green eyes gleaming.


    ¡®Step one: stop being human. It¡¯s a definite handicap. Step two: grow a tail. Balancing without one is just sad. And step three¡ª¡¯ she pauses for dramatic effect ¡®¡ªstop smelling like fear and desperation.¡¯


    I laugh despite myself. ¡°You¡¯re ruthless, you know that?¡±


    ¡®It¡¯s a gift,¡¯ she says, preening one paw with exaggerated care. ¡®But in all seriousness, Del, hunting isn¡¯t about brute force. It¡¯s about patience. Precision. Timing. It¡¯s about becoming one with the environment, not tripping over it.¡¯


    ¡°Easy for you to say,¡± I mutter. ¡°You¡¯ve got claws, fangs, and now a shapeshifting ability to boot.¡±


    ¡®True,¡¯ she agrees smugly, sitting up straighter. ¡®And speaking of which, have you noticed how effortlessly I¡¯ve mastered it? Just imagine¡ªone moment, I¡¯m your adorable, perfectly-proportioned feline companion; the next, I¡¯m a ginger panther, a killing machine. I mean, it¡¯s almost unfair to the rest of the animal kingdom.¡¯


    ¡°Yes, you¡¯ve mentioned that once or twice,¡± I say dryly. ¡°Though I do recall someone falling into that stream when she tried it on the way up here.¡±


    Her ears twitch in irritation.


    ¡®That was a calculated test of the environment,¡¯ she says haughtily. ¡®And it¡¯s not my fault water is wet. That¡¯s a design flaw.¡¯


    ¡°Of course,¡± I say, biting back a laugh. ¡°How silly of me.¡±


    ¡®The real question,¡¯ she continues, ignoring my tone, ¡®is why you, with all your so-called adaptability, can¡¯t seem to shoot a single dinkus.¡¯


    I throw up my hands. ¡°Because they¡¯re fast, alright? And I¡¯m... not.¡±


    ¡®Fast? You think that¡¯s the issue?¡¯ She lets out a mental sigh. ¡®Del, even if you were blessed with cheetah legs, you¡¯d still find a way to trip over yourself. It¡¯s about instinct, not speed.¡¯


    ¡°And I suppose you¡¯d like to teach me?¡± With a single slash, I open the belly of the dinkus and step back as its innards fall out.


    ¡®Oh, absolutely.¡¯ She stands, stretching lazily. ¡®Lesson one: stop thinking like a human.¡¯


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you could elaborate on that?¡±


    ¡®Gladly,¡¯ she says, her tail swishing. ¡®Humans overthink everything. You plan, you strategise, you hesitate. A good hunter doesn¡¯t think; they act. When I see a mouse, do you think I sit there debating the ethics of eating it?¡¯


    ¡°No,¡± I admit. ¡°But I also don¡¯t imagine you write poetry about it afterward.¡±


    ¡®Exactly. Focus on the now, Del. The moment. Let go of that buzzing chaos in your head and trust your senses. Well, the ones you haven¡¯t dulled with bad food and even worse ale.¡¯


    I snort. ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence.¡±


    ¡®You¡¯re welcome,¡¯ she says sweetly. Then, with a glint in her eye, she adds, ¡®But don¡¯t worry, you have one redeeming quality.¡¯


    ¡°Oh? And what¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡®You have me,¡¯ she says, her tone dripping with mock magnanimity. ¡®And honestly, it¡¯s a miracle you¡¯ve survived this long without me. Truly, you should consider building a shrine.¡¯


    ¡°A shrine? For you?¡± I laugh. ¡°What would I offer? Catnip and warm blankets?¡±


    ¡®Throw in some fresh fish, and we might be onto something,¡¯ she says, her purr rumbling in my mind. ¡®But really, Del, don¡¯t be too hard on yourself. You¡¯re not the worst companion I could¡¯ve been saddled with.¡¯


    ¡°That¡¯s high praise,¡± I say with a grin. ¡°Coming from you.¡±


    She pads closer, her eyes softening slightly.


    ¡®You¡¯re stubborn, hopelessly clumsy, and your aim is questionable at best, but you¡¯re loyal. And you listen¡ªmost of the time. That counts for something.¡¯


    ¡°Thanks, Misty,¡± I say quietly.


    ¡®Don¡¯t mention it,¡¯ she replies, her voice softer now. ¡®But if you could try not to scare off the prey next time, I¡¯d appreciate it.¡¯


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡± I promise, reaching out to scratch behind her ears.


    She leans into my hand, purring softly. Then, as if remembering herself, she pulls away and flicks her tail.


    ¡®Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I have an important prowl to attend to. Try not to embarrass yourself while I¡¯m gone.¡¯


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡± I call after her as she slinks into the shadows, her mental voice lingering in my mind.


    ¡®Make sure to keep the liver for me,¡¯ she continues.


    ¡®And Del? If you¡¯re going to make a fool of yourself, at least make it entertaining.¡¯


    With that, she¡¯s gone, leaving me to finish cleaning the deer. I save the skinning for when I get back, grinning to myself and grateful for the infuriating, brilliant creature who¡¯s become my closest ally.


    I quickly untie the dinkus and sling it over my shoulder, grab up my other bits and then join Misty as we head back to join the others at Myrrith¡¯s shrine.

 Chapter 41 – Mostly harmless

    The trip back to the shrine is uneventful, and on the way, I check through the two messages that have been beeping away annoyingly.


    [Your sneak ability has improved slightly; try not to get caught.]


    [Tracking has improved slightly; it¡¯s the little things that matter.]


    ¡®Hm, okay, I can appreciate that,¡¯ I consider with a satisfied smile.


    ¡°Misty, I may not be the best student, but you are a pretty good teacher.¡±


    ¡®Of course I am,¡¯ she glances at me. ¡®Did you ever doubt it?¡¯


    ¡°How could I ever, oh mighty feline?¡± I laugh.


    With a flick of her tail, she turns dismissively back to her task of leading the way onwards.


    We arrive back to find Elara and Naomi outside the building in a cleared area at the foot of the steps. Naomi looks to have gathered several flowers, which she is sorting into rough bouquets.


    ¡°Hi, Del,¡± she says brightly. ¡°I¡¯m getting flowers to make Myrrith¡¯s house pretty again.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s really nice of you, Naomi. I¡¯m sure the goddess will enjoy them.¡±


    Elara steps over and inspects the carcass as I drop it down.


    ¡°Nicely done,¡± she checks the hole left by the arrow and the decimated throat. ¡°¡­Misty.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I helped as well,¡± I protest.


    ¡°Of course you did, Del,¡± she pats my cheek. ¡°You managed to hit it anyway.¡± And gives me a cheeky grin.


    The damn cat just rolls over to allow Elara to grace her with belly rubs.


    ¡®This one appreciates my skills,¡¯ she purrs. Then, with a flick of her claws, she grips the elf¡¯s hand to start nibbling and battling it.


    ¡®At least I can manage one thing,¡¯ I grumble, and, taking my knife, I start to skin the dinkus. I even make a fairly reasonable job of it. With a sigh, I scrape the last of the hide free and look over my handiwork.


    Not perfect, but at least it¡¯s not a total disaster. I glance at Misty, lounging nearby with her tail flicking lazily, and Naomi, who¡¯s humming as she sorts the flowers.


    "Right," I announce, wiping my hands on a cloth and gesturing to the carcass. "Let¡¯s get the best cuts off this before anything else decides to take an interest."


    Elara nods, stepping forward with that unnerving grace of hers. She crouches next to the dinkus, her hands moving deftly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll help. It¡¯s quicker this way.¡±


    ¡®Quicker, and less messy,¡¯ Misty quips from her perch. ¡®You do have a habit of turning butchering into more of a crime scene than a task.¡¯


    ¡°Helpful as always,¡± I mutter, slicing carefully along the spine to separate the prime cuts. ¡°One day, Misty, I¡¯ll surprise you with my competence.¡±


    ¡®Oh, I¡¯d like to see that.¡¯ She flicks her tail over her nose.


    Between Elara¡¯s efficiency and my determination not to embarrass myself too badly, we manage to carve out the choice cuts. Taking a shoulder, one of the haunches, and a few meaty ribs, we pack them into the food sack.


    The rest, sinew and bones included, we leave neatly piled for the land¡¯s less picky diners.


    Naomi comes skipping over, her hands full of vibrant blooms. She holds up a particularly bright bouquet.


    ¡°Do you think Myrrith will like these?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll love them,¡± I say, standing to stretch. It is so good to no longer be almost crippled with aches these days. ¡°I¡¯d wager she already approves of the effort you¡¯re putting in.¡±


    Naomi beams at that and turns back toward the shrine. I watch as she carefully lays the flowers along the edges of the old stonework, creating something that¡¯s almost a garden. Elara joins her after we clean up, murmuring suggestions and helping arrange the blooms.


    Misty hops onto a ledge near me, looking down at the others with what might almost be approval. Almost. ¡®It¡¯s a start,¡¯ she remarks.


    ¡°It is,¡± I agree quietly, my eyes lingering on the shrine. For all its age and ruin, it doesn¡¯t feel so abandoned anymore. Something has shifted, as though it¡¯s waking up slowly.


    When Naomi finishes, we gather our things, leaving the shrine behind with a faintly renewed sense of purpose. I shoulder the pack containing the meat, the weight a welcome reminder of our success. Misty darts ahead, her tail flashing through the undergrowth like a banner.


    We rejoin the main path, the river murmuring alongside us as we walk downstream. The air is fresher here, the oppressive stillness that once clung to the shrine lifting with every step.


    After a while, the trees thin, revealing a small clearing. A fence¡ªweathered but sturdy¡ªencircles a plot of land where neat rows of crops stand proud. Beyond that, a simple farmhouse rests against the backdrop of the forest, smoke curling lazily from its chimney.


    The farm sits on a gentle slope, bordered by low stone walls and hedgerows. Rows of golden wheat and barley ripple in the breeze, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the fields. A sturdy farmhouse with weathered timber beams stands at the centre, flanked by a smaller barn and a chicken coop. A single plough sits abandoned near the barn, its blade dulled from use.


    As we approach, a barking dog¡ªa wiry terrier with a scrappy brown coat¡ªbounds out from the side of the barn, her tail wagging cautiously.


    Elara pauses, her keen eyes scanning the area.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t on any of the maps I¡¯ve seen.¡±


    ¡°Which makes it either a sanctuary or trouble,¡± I reply, checking the sword slung at my waist.


    Misty prowls ahead, her nose twitching. ¡®Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s the former. I¡¯m not in the mood to rescue you again.¡¯


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.¡°Very funny,¡± I mutter, stepping forward cautiously.


    A figure emerges from behind the farmhouse¡ªa stout man with a broad-brimmed hat and a wary expression. He holds a pitchfork loosely in one hand, though his grip tightens when he notices us.


    "Strangers, eh?" His voice carries across the field, steady but edged with suspicion.


    Elara raises her hands, palms out. "We mean no harm. Just travellers passing through."


    He eyes us for a long moment, then lowers the pitchfork slightly. "Travellers, is it? Well, don¡¯t just stand there gawking. Come closer, and we¡¯ll see what you¡¯re about."


    Stepping up to the gate, we wait politely for the farmer to approach.


    ¡°Name¡¯s Joel,¡± he informs us, looking us all up and down. He focuses on Elara. ¡°Don¡¯t get many of your sort coming down the road.¡±


    Not sure how to take that statement, I question, ¡°That¡¯s not a problem for you, is it?¡±


    He just shrugs. ¡°Nope, just an observation. Not seen any elves since I left Hybern to farm this patch a couple of years back.¡±


    Naomi pokes her head out from where she was hiding a bit behind us.


    Joel¡¯s sharp gaze shifts to Naomi as she steps into view, her cautious expression not going unnoticed. His eyes soften, though the pitchfork remains in his hand. "Got the whole crew with you, then. Don¡¯t worry, lass, I won¡¯t bite," he says, his tone less gruff now.


    Naomi nods but stays quiet, her hands fiddling with the hem of her cloak.


    Misty pads forward, tail flicking. She sniffs the air and looks back at me with her usual unimpressed stare.


    ¡®This one¡¯s harmless¡ªmostly.¡¯


    "She¡¯s got an eye for character," I say lightly, gesturing to Misty. "We¡¯re just passing through. Name¡¯s Del. That¡¯s Elara, Naomi, and this is Misty, though she¡¯s more the boss of us than the other way around."


    Joel chuckles, his grip on the pitchfork easing at last.


    "Well, Del, you lot picked a quiet stretch of road to wander. Ain¡¯t much out here but fields and hard work." He leans the pitchfork against the fence and waves us through the gate. "Come on, my wife¡¯ll have my head if I leave you standing out here too long."


    Joel leads us up the dirt path to the farmhouse. As we approach, a boy of about five peeks out from behind the doorframe, his wide eyes darting between us. A woman, tall and sturdy, with flour-dusted hands, appears behind him. Her dark hair is tied back in a neat braid, and she wipes her hands on her apron as she steps out to greet us.


    "This here¡¯s Mara, my wife," Joel says, his tone softening as he gestures toward her. "And that¡¯s Finn, our boy. Don¡¯t mind him; he¡¯s just shy around new folk."


    Mara studies us with a mixture of curiosity and hospitality.


    "Strangers on the road, eh? Must be a story behind that." Her gaze lands on the bundle of dinkus meat slung over my shoulder. "And it seems you¡¯ve brought supper with you."


    Elara smiles. "If you¡¯ve got a place for us to sit, we¡¯d be glad to share."


    Joel nods toward the side of the porch.


    "Settle your packs over there. Dog¡¯ll keep an eye on ¡¯em." He glances at the terrier, who¡¯s now sitting attentively by the door. "Name¡¯s Wren, and she¡¯s more bark than bite¡ªunless you¡¯re a skep."


    ¡®Skep? What the hell is a bloody skep?¡¯


    The farmhouse kitchen is simple but inviting, with a large wooden table at its centre and dried herbs hanging from the beams. The smell of baking bread mingles with the earthy scent of fresh vegetables. Mara busies herself preparing a stew, and the boy, Finn, stays close to her, stealing glances at us when he thinks we¡¯re not looking.


    As we sit, Joel leans back in his chair, his posture relaxing for the first time since we arrived.


    "Don¡¯t mean to pry, but you lot seem a bit more... seasoned than your average travellers. What brings you through these parts?"


    "We¡¯re heading to Hybern," Elara explains, her tone light but non-committal. ¡°We didn¡¯t know there was a farm around here.¡±


    Joel chuckles. "As I said, only been here a couple or so years. Not everyone finds farm life so appealing, especially with the pests we sometimes get round these parts. But me and Mara, well, we decided to try something different, and Finn doesn¡¯t cope well with people.¡±


    "It¡¯s certainly peaceful enough out here,¡± I agree. ¡°But you mentioned pests?" I ask, already suspecting this is leading to something more than a few mice in the pantry.


    Misty¡¯s ears perk up. ¡®Here we go,¡¯ she mutters, hopping onto a nearby windowsill to peer outside.


    Joel sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.


    "Skeps. Big rodent-like buggers, mean as they come. Been raiding the barn for weeks now, and Wren¡¯s too small to take ¡¯em on. I reckon there¡¯s a nest somewhere, but I¡¯ll be damned if I can find it."


    Mara looks up from the stove. "They¡¯re more than pests, really. They¡¯ve chewed through grain stores, scared the chickens half to death, and nearly took Finn¡¯s hand last week when he went to fetch eggs."


    Elara frowns. "That sounds serious. Have you considered leaving traps?"


    "Traps, poison, even tried smoking ¡¯em out," Joel says, shaking his head. "Nothing¡¯s worked. They¡¯re too clever¡ªand too many."


    Naomi, silent until now, looks to me. "We could help," she says softly. "Couldn¡¯t we?"


    Joel hesitates. "I don¡¯t want to put you out. You¡¯re just passing through¡ª"


    "Not a problem," I interrupt, meeting his eyes. "We¡¯ve got a bit of experience with things that bite back. Besides, it sounds like these skeps are more than you should be handling alone."


    ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth of it,¡± he agrees.


    We all settle into a delicious dinkus stew. Mara is an excellent cook, and Finn, after a bit of encouragement from his mother, starts to shyly make friends with Naomi.


    ¡°We have a spare room in the attic you can use for the night,¡± Joel informs us, and we agree to start looking into the skep problem in the morning.


    As the evening unwinds and the children are settled, we are able to spend a comfortable evening trading news of the goings-on in Stonebridge with Joel and Mara¡¯s tales of life setting up the farm and bringing in their first harvests.


    With a look and a mental nudge, Misty lets me know she is going out hunting.


    With a graceful jump, she passes through the kitchen window and out into the night.

 Chapter 42 – Pest Problem

    As Elara and I settle into the bed, Elara gives me a hug as she snuggles in.


    ¡°Is it my imagination,¡± she asks me, ¡°or do fun and interesting things seem to happen around you?¡±


    I ponder that for a moment. ¡°In what way?¡±


    ¡°Well, I travelled for over three weeks from the Homewood, across the High Hills before I was caught by those goblins,¡± a frown crosses her brow. ¡°Never came across anything other than normal plants and animals until then and your rescue.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± I suggest, ¡°it¡¯s just we are getting into more travelled areas now so we find more interesting things.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± she replies with a little shrug, ¡°but it does make it fun to travel with you. Never knowing what may come next.¡±


    With that, she gives a little shimmy to get comfortable and soon her gentle snores help me to also drift off.


    I am in a tunnel, yet I¡¯m not. You know those times when you¡¯re so aware that you¡¯re in a dream.


    But it¡¯s too real to be a dream.


    Isn¡¯t it?


    ¡®Okay, Del, are you asleep or awake?¡¯ I¡¯m feeling cross right now.


    ¡®How the fuck am I supposed to know? This whole damn thing is pretty freaky.¡¯


    I hate talking to myself, so why the hell do I do it?


    ¡®Bad habits are the hardest to break.¡¯ I mean, obvious really.


    ¡®So you are saying I am a bad habit?¡¯


    And none of this answers if this bloody tunnel is real. Or if the damned BB has shoved me somewhere, or if it¡¯s just my warped imagination playing tricks again.


    ¡®Well, I hope it¡¯s a damn dream.¡¯


    I hear a skittering sound ahead, out of sight but getting closer. Rather than take a chance,


    I run.


    My feet pound against the uneven ground, the sound echoing through the tunnels. The air feels thick, each breath catching in my throat, as if the walls themselves are alive, pressing in closer with every step.


    The light¡ªwhat little there is¡ªseems to flicker, casting long, distorted shadows that twist and writhe along the jagged walls. My heart races, hammering against my ribs, the sound almost drowning out the skittering behind me. Almost.


    It¡¯s there, always there. A faint clicking, then a scrape¡ªcloser now, echoing from every direction. The tunnels stretch endlessly, branching off into countless paths, each one darker and more oppressive than the last. I don¡¯t know where I¡¯m going. I don¡¯t care. I just know I can¡¯t stop.


    My foot catches on a loose stone, and I stumble, crashing against the cold, damp wall. The scent of earth and something faintly metallic¡ªblood?¡ªfills my nose as I push off and keep moving. Behind me, the sound changes, a new rhythm. A chittering, like teeth grinding together, and something wet¡ªa dragging, slithering noise that makes my skin crawl.


    I turn a corner, then another. Every path looks the same. The walls glisten as if sweating, the ceiling hanging low enough that I have to duck. The skittering sound is closer now, the scrape of claws or talons¡ªor something worse¡ªrising above the pounding in my chest.


    I don¡¯t dare look back. I don¡¯t want to see it.


    The tunnel narrows, forcing me to squeeze through a gap barely wide enough for my shoulders. My hand brushes against something slick and cold. My stomach lurches, and I bite back a cry. It¡¯s not stone. It can¡¯t be stone.


    The sound stops.


    I freeze, chest heaving, ears straining. The silence is deafening, as if the world itself is holding its breath.


    Then it comes. A single, sharp click.


    Right behind me.


    I bolt forward, the walls closing in, my breath ragged and tearing at my throat. The path dips suddenly, and I skid, barely catching myself before tumbling into the darkness. I don¡¯t know how much farther I can run.


    The tunnels stretch on, unending. The thing behind me doesn¡¯t tire. Doesn¡¯t falter.


    And I know¡ªdeep down, with a bone-deep certainty¡ªI¡¯ll never find the way.


    I slip forwards, a slope, I can¡¯t stop.


    Barrelling forwards, I land in a tangled mess, my head pressed into something hot and soft.


    Something brushes against my face, and I jerk upwards but am restrained.


    ¡°Del, hush Del,¡± her voice is gentle, tender, calming.


    I take a shuddering breath and open my eyes. My hair feels slick with sweat and my heart clamours in my chest. But all I see is her delicate eyes, looking down on me with concern and compassion. Her hand gently strokes my face as she sits in the bed, my head in her lap.


    I kick my legs, trying to free them from the tangle of blankets knotted around them.


    ¡°Damn, Elara. That was one bitch of a bad dream.¡±


    ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡± she asks.


    I consider the panic and the¡­ Even as I try to recall the details, they slip away. All I am left with is the feeling of terror and darkness.


    ¡°It¡¯s gone,¡± I tell her, frustrated that something so vivid can just vanish. ¡°I can¡¯t recall any of the details, just it was dark, the rest¡ªnothing.¡±


    Finally free of the covers, I straighten the bed and lie back down. There is nothing I can do about it now.


    ¡°We still have a way to go before morning, let¡¯s try to get back to sleep,¡± I suggest and pull her in close beside me.


    A crow from a cockerel wakes me as dawn is starting to light the sky.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.Memories of the night before are vague, leaving me with a bit of a headache. I know it was a rough night, but nothing else.


    ¡®Damn dreams!¡¯


    Elara mumbles a bit as she slowly rouses from her slumber. Sleepy eyes look at me.


    She mumbles some more unintelligible sounds, then, pulling me into a deeper cuddle, slurs out, ¡°not yet,¡± and goes back to sleep.


    ¡®Well, I guess it is a bit early.¡¯ I don¡¯t really fight the idea.


    With a thump, a small ginger ball of fur lands on the bed and brings her face, fur damp with morning dew, up to nuzzle mine.


    ¡®Gee thanks, Misty,¡¯ I tell her grouchily. ¡®Just what I always love in the morning is a face full of wet cat.¡¯


    ¡®Some of us have spent the night hunting, not sleeping.¡¯ She curls up next to my neck and commences her morning ablutions.


    ¡®And did your tireless efforts achieve anything?¡¯ I ask her.


    ¡®Of course.¡¯


    ¡®I don¡¯t suppose, oh mighty feline,¡¯ I request in a mocking tone, ¡®you would care to elaborate?¡¯


    She stops attempting to clean off a particularly stubborn bit of mud, looks at me with her most superior stare, then goes back to her mission to eliminate all traces of the night''s activities.


    ¡®I found a skep, I killed the skep, I know the direction from which it came,¡¯ is her succinct reply.


    ¡®Well done, girl,¡¯ I give her a few scritches which are rewarded by her rumbling purrs. ¡®You can show me after breakfast.¡¯


    An hour or so later, Elara, Misty and I head downstairs to join the others for breakfast.


    Naomi is already there, tucking into a steaming bowl of hot porridge and chatting away with a much more animated Finn. It seems that her enthusiastic animation has served to draw him more out of his shell.


    ¡°Misty, my cat,¡± I say to Joel, ¡°was out roaming last night and I think she may have caught a skep.¡±


    He looks up from his bowl at that. ¡°Really, how do you know?¡±


    ¡°They have a bit of a weird bond,¡± Elara says.


    ¡°Yeah, she talks to him all the time,¡± Naomi happily clarifies, although all this really does is cause Joel to look confused and Mara to chuckle.


    ¡°Oh, you,¡± she says to Naomi. ¡°Fanciful stories are a sign of too much energy.¡±


    Naomi looks about to start protesting, but Elara just gives her a look that stills her tongue.


    ¡°Now, if you and Finn have finished breakfast, you might want to help him tidy his bed, as you slept there too, and then go fetch the morning eggs.¡±


    ¡°Just mind you stay clear of the barn,¡± adds Joel.


    With happy giggles and lots of playful shoving, the two run off to do their chores.


    Breakfast now over and the last dregs of coffee drained.


    ¡®That wasn¡¯t coffee, idiot.¡¯ Why can¡¯t I have a simple internal conversation without mocking myself?


    ¡®It was hot and wet, and tasted a damn sight better than those herbal tea things.¡¯ I have never been a tea drinker, so this is a reasonable observation.


    ¡®Doesn¡¯t make it coffee,¡¯ is my final defiant word on the matter.


    ¡°So Joel, would you like to show us what you can of your pest problem?¡± I ask him. ¡°Then we can see what we are up against.¡±


    With a nod, he stands up and leads us out of the house and towards the barn.


    ¡°Most often they come in at night. What they don¡¯t eat, they often foul, making it useless for anything except washing and keeping for planting.¡± He kicks a clump of weeds. ¡°Even then, it only grows half the time, but we can¡¯t afford to buy in fresh seed stock.¡±


    As we near the barn, Misty struts ahead, tail high, and promptly sits next to a dead animal.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be damned,¡± Joel says in surprise.


    The corpse my cat proudly displays could, at a pinch, be most likened to a rat, unlike any I have ever seen before.


    Identify


    Skep ¨C Beast, male


    Level ¨C 8


    Scavenger


    Strengths: Strong olfaction


    Weaknesses: Light


    Skill: Unknown


    Lore: Skeps are pack animals, often living in large colonies underground or in cave systems. They have poor eyesight and can be easily disorientated by bright lights. They have a very strong sense of smell and use this to hunt out food to scavenge and return to the home nest.


    So, why, despite being very rat-like, was it unlike any rat I have seen before? Well, it was large, maybe the size of a medium dog.


    ¡®No wonder Wren couldn¡¯t handle one.¡¯


    But most telling was the two pointed snouts. I take another look¡ªnot that it wasn¡¯t really, glaringly fucking obvious.


    ¡®The bloody thing has two damned heads!¡¯


    ¡°Alright then, Joel,¡± I look at the big man. ¡°To recap, you have a problem with big fuck-off two-headed monsters eating your crop.¡±


    Joel scratches his head.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s about the right of it,¡± he still looks puzzled. ¡°But how in all the hells did your little cat kill one?¡±


    ¡°What can I say, my friend? She is a talented puss.¡±


    ¡°Del,¡± Elara chips in, ¡°why don¡¯t we let Joel get on with his day and we can have a look around.¡±


    ¡°I do have a lot to do, so that sounds good to me,¡± Joel agrees as he turns to head back to the farmhouse. ¡°I will see Mara watches out for the kids,¡± he adds.


    As he leaves, I look at my smug little cat.


    ¡°Good job, Misty. Now would you like to show us where you think they are coming from?¡±


    She comes over, twines herself around both our legs for a moment, then heads away from the farm towards an uncultivated paddock and the rough terrain beyond.


    After perhaps a half mile, with Misty regularly stopping to sniff the air and study the ground, we round a patch of scattered rocks and boulders.


    Ahead is the entrance to a large burrow and the dark tunnels beyond.


    A shudder of half-remembered terror runs through me as I look at it.

 Chapter 43 - Tunnels

    The entrance to the tunnels is big enough that I only have to stoop a little to fit in.


    The earth is firmly packed creating a stable dry surface. The place smells of fresh loam and something sharper¡ªlike mouldy hay left too long in a damp barn. Misty pads ahead, her tail flicking with purpose. Her nose works the air constantly, and her ears twitch at every faint sound.


    As we enter the gloom quickly turns to pitch black, Elara murmurs a quiet incantation and with a small tingle of mana flowing, small globes of light appear on our hands.


    Elara stays close, our lights casting a pale blue glow that pushes back the encroaching darkness.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t natural,¡± she murmurs, brushing her fingers along the tunnel wall. ¡°The structure... it¡¯s been reinforced. See how the dirt¡¯s interwoven with roots? The skeps are clever. They¡¯ve co-opted the flora to stabilise the tunnels.¡±


    I grunt, keeping my voice low.


    ¡°Clever¡¯s one word for it. Dangerous is another.¡±


    The way is too narrow for my sword so I have my two venom fang daggers gripped tightly. They are heavy in my grip, but reassuring. Elara has a dagger and I also feel she has some sort of magic held ready.


    Misty pauses, her head whipping to the left. The faintest rustle echoes through the tunnel. A shift of soil. A scrape of something against stone. My heart lurches.


    ¡®Movement¡¯ she tells me simply, letting out a low growl.


    Naomi¡¯s projection flickers into view beside me, her astral form translucent and not a little eery. ¡°They¡¯re not close yet, but I can sense them. At least three, maybe four.¡±


    ¡°Brilliant,¡± I mutter, hefting my daggers pensively. ¡°Let¡¯s hope they are as easy as that one you killed back at the farm.¡±


    ¡®They won¡¯t be,¡¯ Misty says. Her tail lashes once, a stark reminder that she¡¯s the predator here.


    Elara glanced at Naomi¡¯s astral projection.


    ¡°You be careful young lady. A projection like that can drain you fast.¡±


    With a quick ¡°I will,¡± her image vanishes as fast as it came.


    We move on, slower now, the air thickening with tension. The tunnel widens into a small chamber, the ceiling arching overhead like the ribs of some buried beast.


    Separating to check out the chamber, the blue lights catch on old bones scattered across the floor¡ªribcages, skulls, and femurs stripped clean. Some are animal, but others¡­ I swallow hard and on closer look, they are humanoid, small, I can¡¯t tell if they are human or something other.


    ¡°They¡¯ve been here a while,¡± Elara says, her voice tight. ¡°These bones feel old.¡±


    Misty stops at the far side of the chamber, sniffing furiously.


    ¡®The scent splits,¡¯ she announces. ¡®Two paths. One reeks of Skep. The other¡­¡¯ She wrinkles her nose in disgust. ¡®Decay.¡¯


    ¡°Decay could mean anything, from old bones like this chamber,¡± Elara indicates the littered floor. ¡°Too something much worse.¡±


    I shiver a little at that thought, memories of events at the shrine fresh in my mind.


    ¡°Better to deal with the living threats now than let them sneak up on us later.¡±


    Elara nods, and I fall in line behind the cat as Misty leads the way down the right-hand tunnel with the elf taking rear guard.


    The air feels colder here, heavier, like the earth is leaning in to watch us. My boots crunch softly against the ground, every step a betrayal of our presence.


    Ahead, Misty freezes. Her ears flatten. I tighten my grip on the weapons, adrenaline surging.


    ¡®Hold,¡¯ she hisses.


    The tunnel opens into another chamber, smaller this time, with only one exit on the opposite side. A skep prowls the centre of the room, its twin heads raised, nostrils flaring. The beast¡¯s black fur ripples as it sniffs the air, clearly on edge. Behind it, a second skep roots through the debris, sharp claws tearing apart what looks like an old crate.


    The first one lets out a guttural growl, its heads snapping toward us simultaneously. It sees us. No more waiting.


    ¡®Del, flank right,¡¯ Misty orders, her voice sharp in my mind. As she rapidly grows into her fighting form.


    ¡°Elara, light the room!¡± I bark


    Elara raises her hands, and a burst of white light floods the chamber. The skeps screech, recoiling from the sudden brilliance, but only for a moment. The first charges straight for me, its heads snapping and saliva dripping from jagged teeth.


    I sidestep and swing my dagger, the blade catching the creature¡¯s side. It yelps but doesn¡¯t stop.


    One head lunges for my leg, and I barely twist away in time, the teeth grazing my boot. The second head snaps for my arm, but before it can sink its fangs in, Misty leaps from the shadows. Her claws rake across its back, leaving deep gouges. The skep shrieks and collapses under her weight.


    The second one is on Elara. She thrusts her hand forward, a burst of magic slamming into its chest. The creature skids back but recovers almost instantly, lunging again. Elara slams forward her dagger, taking it in the throat as a fountain of blood gushes out, it falls to the ground twitching spasmodically.


    Breathing heavily, I step back from the carnage. Blood pools on the ground, the sharp tang of iron filling the air. Misty licks her paw, cleaning a streak of blood from her fur.


    ¡®Efficient,¡¯ she says, her tone almost bored. ¡®But noisy.¡¯


    ¡°Misty is complaining we made too much noise,¡± I tell Elara.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t have much choice,¡± Elara replies, dimming her light back to its former quiet blue glow. She glances at the tunnel ahead. ¡°If they didn¡¯t know we were here before, they do now.¡±


    ¡®Good,¡¯ Misty tells me, her tail swishing. ¡®That saves us the trouble of hunting.¡¯


    Naomi flickers in beside me, her expression grim. ¡°You need to keep moving. They are moving to try and surround you.¡±


    I nod, already stepping toward the next tunnel as she vanishes once more. The adrenaline hasn¡¯t worn off yet, but my muscles ache with the effort of staying ready. ¡°Let¡¯s go before reinforcements show up.¡±


    We press on, the air growing thicker with each step. The faint hum of movement echoes through the tunnels, a constant reminder of the threat lurking ahead. The faint decay-scented path Misty had identified lingers in the back of my mind, gnawing at my resolve. The stakes here feel higher than any other encounter so far, and I can tell Elara feels it too.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.The tunnel narrows again, forcing us, in places to squeeze through narrow choke points.


    Misty leads, her sleek form slipping through the space effortlessly. I follow closely, daggers at the ready, their weight both a comfort and a grim reminder of what lies ahead. Behind me, Elara whispers another incantation, summoning faint, vine-like patterns to ripple briefly across her free hand before fading.


    ¡°I¡¯m keeping them ready,¡± she says, her voice soft but steady. ¡°The vines will be slower in these tight spaces, but I¡¯d rather have the option.¡±


    I nod, my throat dry. ¡°Good. Anything that keeps them off us is worth it.¡±


    A skittering noise stops us cold. My breath catches as Misty¡¯s ears swivel, locking onto a faint scrape just ahead. She lowers herself to the ground, every muscle coiled. I glance back at Elara, whose dagger is already raised.


    ¡®Just one,¡¯ Misty informs me, her mental tone sharper than usual. ¡®Scout. Left tunnel.¡¯


    Naomi¡¯s voice whispers through the gloom, her astral form flickering briefly by my side. ¡°You can take it quickly. But be careful¡ªthe others are circling closer.¡±


    Before I can reply, she vanishes, leaving only the cold, heavy quiet. Misty doesn¡¯t wait. She streaks forward, a blur of fur and claws. I charge after her, rounding the corner to see a lone skep recoiling under her sudden assault. It barely has time to snarl before her teeth sink into its left-hand throat. There¡¯s a sickening crunch, and it falls limp.


    ¡®Handled,¡¯ Misty says, spitting the taste from her mouth. ¡®But we¡¯ve got company. Move.¡¯


    Her warning isn¡¯t empty. The vibrations in the ground are unmistakable now¡ªa rhythmic pounding that grows stronger with every second. I can hear them, too: the guttural growls, the scrape of claws against earth. The colony knows we¡¯re here, and they¡¯re converging.


    ¡°Elara, can you block the tunnel behind us?¡± I ask as we push forward.


    She nods, already raising her hand. Roots burst from the ground and walls, twisting into a makeshift barrier. ¡°It won¡¯t hold them for long,¡± she warns, sweat beading on her brow. ¡°But it¡¯ll buy us time.¡±


    ¡°Time¡¯s all we need,¡± I reply, though I¡¯m not sure I believe it.


    The tunnel twists sharply, and the smell hits me first¡ªsomething rancid, a mix of decay and filth. Misty halts abruptly, her fur bristling.


    ¡®Nest ahead,¡¯ she announces, her tone wary. ¡®Four, maybe five inside. One¡¯s bigger.¡¯


    I glance back at Elara. ¡°Ready?¡±


    She nods, her grip on her dagger tightening. ¡°Let¡¯s end this quickly.¡±


    We step into the chamber, and the skeps are waiting. Four of the creatures prowl the perimeter, their twin heads swivelling in eerie synchrony. In the centre, a larger one bares its teeth, its growl low and menacing.


    The battle is immediate and chaotic. Elara sends vines snaking across the floor, tripping one of the smaller skeps as it lunges for me. I take the opening, driving my dagger into its chest. The venom works quickly, and it collapses, twitching.


    Misty takes down another, her claws flashing in the dim light. The big one charges her, but she¡¯s too fast, darting aside and raking her claws along its flank. It howls in rage, one head snapping at her while the other watches us.


    ¡°Elara, light!¡± I shout.


    She responds instantly, her spell illuminating the chamber with a searing brilliance. The skeps recoil, their sensitive eyes unable to handle the sudden glare. I seize the moment, rushing another one. My blade finds its mark, slicing deep into its side. It lets out a garbled shriek before collapsing.


    The bigger beast is the last to fall, a combined effort from Misty¡¯s claws and Elara¡¯s dagger finally bringing it down. The chamber falls silent, save for our ragged breathing.


    Elara slumps against the wall, her magic clearly draining her. ¡°That¡­ wasn¡¯t subtle,¡± she says between breaths.


    ¡°Subtle¡¯s overrated,¡± I reply, wiping my blade clean. The chamber reeks of blood and death, and I can¡¯t shake the feeling that this was only a prelude., as I identify the bigger skep


    Identify


    Skep Guard ¨C Beast, male


    Level ¨C 9


    Scavenger


    Strengths: Strong olfaction


    Weaknesses: Light


    Skill: Unknown


    Lore: Skeps are pack animals, often living in large colonies underground or in cave systems. They have poor eyesight and can be easily disorientated by bright lights. They have a very strong sense of smell and use this to hunt out food to scavenge and return to the home nest. The guards typically defend the lair mother and direct the lesser skeps.


    ¡®It was too noisy,¡¯ Misty confirms grimly. She¡¯s already at the next tunnel, her nose working overtime. ¡®We¡¯re close now. The scent is stronger¡ªfoul and sharp. The lair mother is near.¡¯


    Elara straightens, her exhaustion giving way to determination.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s finish this.¡±


    We press on, the tunnel widening slightly as we move. The air grows colder, and the smell intensifies, nearly making me gag. The walls glisten with moisture, and I can hear a faint, rhythmic sound¡ªlike a heartbeat, but impossibly loud.


    ¡®We¡¯re here,¡¯ Misty says, her voice a low hiss. She stops at the mouth of a massive chamber, her tail lashing.


    I peer inside, my stomach twisting at the sight. The lair mother¡¯s chamber is vast, its ceiling disappearing into darkness. The floor is a tangled mess of bones, half-eaten carcasses, and nests crafted from filth. At the centre, a hulking figure looms¡ªthe lair mother herself. She¡¯s enormous, her twin heads scanning the room with unnerving intelligence. Around her, smaller skeps skitter nervously, their movements jerky and frantic. As we watch, her head snaps down and grabs up a small skep which she proceeds to rapidly devour, before spitting out bones to join the rest of the floor litter.


    Elara¡¯s light dims slightly, as if the oppressive atmosphere is swallowing it. ¡°She¡¯s enormous,¡± she whispers. ¡°We can¡¯t take her here. Not like this.¡±


    She¡¯s right. The lair mother is surrounded, and the chamber is too open for us to gain any advantage. But retreating isn¡¯t an option either¡ªnot with the colony already hunting us.


    ¡®We need a plan,¡¯ Misty says, her eyes locked on the massive creature. ¡®Quickly.¡¯


    I nod, my mind racing. The lair mother turns slightly, one head sniffing the air. She knows we¡¯re here.


    And then her gaze locks on us.


    The room explodes into chaos.

 Chapter 44 – I’m kinda busy here

    The dank stench of the lair fills my nostrils as I survey the chamber, my heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and dread. Sheathing a dagger, I draw my sword.


    ¡®I hope to fuck it¡¯s enough.¡¯


    I grip the hilt tighter, the leather wrapping around the handle rough against my calloused palm. Beside me, Elara nocks an arrow, her eyes narrowing as she assesses the writhing mass of skeps heading towards us.


    "Never a dull moment, eh?" I mutter, trying to inject some levity into the situation.


    Elara''s lips quirk into a wry smile. "You have a talent for understatement, Del."


    I snort. "Better than being known for my pretty face." My self-deprecating humour falls flat, but it''s a familiar coping mechanism in the face of danger.


    The skeps chitter angrily, their beady eyes fixated on us as they scuttle forward. I count at least twenty of the buggers, with a handful of larger, more menacing specimens mixed in¡ªthe dreaded Skep Guards.


    "Stick to the plan," Elara says calmly, drawing her bowstring taut. "I''ll keep them at bay from here while you engage the main force."


    I nod, appreciating her cool-headed confidence. It''s a stark contrast to the maelstrom of doubt swirling in my own mind.


    ¡®Can I really do this? Am I strong enough?¡¯ The questions plague me, but I push them aside.


    ¡®Just fucking stop whining and do already, Del.¡¯


    There''s no time for second-guessing now.


    With a deep breath, I lunge forward, my blade slicing through the air. The nearest skep hisses, rearing up on its hind legs. I sidestep its clumsy attack and drive my sword into its thorax, feeling the sickening crunch of flesh and bone giving way.


    Misty, in full hellcat mode, leaps into the fray with a fearsome roar. Her claws rend flesh, and her powerful jaws snap bone as she tears through the skeps like a furry whirlwind of death. I almost feel sorry for the little bastards.


    An arrow whistles past my ear, finding its mark in a skep that was creeping up on my flank. I glance back at Elara and give her a grateful nod. She''s already nocking another arrow, her movements fluid and precise.


    ¡®Good girl, glad you are better with that damn bow than me,¡¯ I think wryly.


    The battle rages on, a chaotic symphony of shrieks, grunts, and the clash of steel against skep. Sweat drips into my eyes, and my muscles burn with exertion, but I press forward, hacking and slashing with grim determination.


    ¡®Just another day in paradise,¡¯ I think sardonically as I plunge my blade into yet another skep. ¡®When did this become normal for me?¡¯


    ¡®About the time you decided staying alive was the better option, you numbnuts,¡¯ my oh-so-friendly other me answers with scorn.


    But there''s no time to dwell on the absurdity of my situation. The lair mother looms ahead, her bloated form pulsing with malevolent energy. She''s the real threat here, and we''ll need to deal with her if we hope to make it out of this stinking hole alive.


    I glance at Misty, still tearing through the skeps with ruthless efficiency, and then at Elara, her bow singing its deadly song. A fierce surge of affection wells up inside me. They''re more than just companions¡ªthey''re my lifeline in this mad world.


    ¡®Together,¡¯ I think grimly as I charge towards the lair mother, my sword raised high. ¡®We''ll face this together, come what may.¡¯


    As I charge towards the Lair mother, a wall of tangled vines suddenly erupts from the ground before me, halting my advance. I whirl around to see Elara, her hands aglow with verdant energy, weaving a living barrier between us and the skeps.


    "Del! Get behind the vines!" she shouts, her voice strained with the effort of her magic.


    I don''t need to be told twice. Darting behind the writhing mass of greenery, I take a moment to catch my breath and assess the situation. The lair mother is close now, her fetid stench filling my nostrils and making my stomach churn.


    ¡®I''ve faced worse,¡¯ I remind myself, gripping my sword and dagger tightly. ¡®Just another monster to slay, another day in this bizarre new life of mine.¡¯


    I hear a snide chuckle. ¡®Just don¡¯t fuck it up with them relying on you, Del.¡¯


    I growl quietly.


    ¡®Will you just shut up? I¡¯m kinda busy here.¡¯


    With a deep breath, I leap out from behind Elara''s barrier, my blades flashing in the dim light. The lair mother''s bulk looms before me, a grotesque mountain of flesh and patchy fur.


    "Come on then, you ugly bitch," I snarl through gritted teeth. "Let''s dance."


    My sword clashes against her hide¡ªit''s so tough it might as well be armoured. It sends jarring vibrations up my arm. I dodge a swipe from her massive claws, rolling to the side and lashing out with my dagger. The blade finds a soft spot in her side, drawing a gush of foul-smelling ichor.


    ¡®That''s it,¡¯ I think savagely, pressing my advantage. ¡®Just keep hitting her until she stops moving.¡¯


    The lair mother, far from defenceless, lets out a screech. A pulse of sickly green energy erupts from her body, slamming into me like a battering ram. I am hurled back twenty feet, my head ringing and my vision blurring.


    ¡®Get up, you dumb shite!¡¯ I berate myself, shaking off the dizzy spell. ¡®You¡¯ve had far worse.¡¯


    With a snarl of defiance, I jump myself back into the fray, my blades a whirlwind of steel. I can hear Misty''s fierce yowls and the twang of Elara''s bowstring, and I take heart in the knowledge that I''m not alone in this fight.


    ¡®Together,¡¯ I think once more as I hack away at the Lair mother''s bulk. ¡®We''ll end this damn bitch.¡¯


    ¡®Just don¡¯t get anyone killed doing it.¡¯


    The skeps swarm around us, a writhing mass of fur and teeth. I slash and stab, my sword and dagger finding their marks with practised precision. The creatures fall before me, but there always seems to be another to take their place.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon."Del, watch out!" Elara shouts, her voice tinged with panic.


    I spin around just in time to see a massive skep guard barrelling towards me, its eyes glinting with malice. I brace myself for the impact, but Misty is there in a flash of ginger fur, her powerful jaws clamping down on the creature''s neck.


    The skep guard howls in pain and thrashes wildly, but Misty holds on with grim determination. I seize the opportunity to plunge my sword into the creature''s chest, feeling a grim satisfaction as it shudders and goes limp.


    ¡®Good girl,¡¯ I think, flashing Misty a quick grin.


    She spits out a chunk of the skep''s lifeless body and gives me one of her looks.


    ¡®You''re welcome, you damn fool.¡¯


    But there''s no time to rest. The skeps keep coming, their numbers seeming endless. I can feel my muscles burning with fatigue, and I know that we can''t keep this up forever.


    ¡®Think, Del,¡¯ I urge myself, my mind racing. ¡®There has to be a way to end this.¡¯


    My gaze falls on the mother, her bloated form still perched at the centre of the chamber. If we can take her down, perhaps the rest of the skeps will scatter.


    "Elara, Misty!" I shout over the din of battle. "We need to focus on the big bitch. It''s our only chance!"


    ¡®Look at him,¡¯ Misty comments wryly. ¡®Going all strategist on us.¡¯


    Elara nods grimly, nocking an arrow to her bowstring. Misty lets out a fierce yowl of agreement, her claws flexing in anticipation.


    We push forward, cutting a path through the swarming skeps towards our ultimate goal.


    ¡®If we can even get close enough,¡¯ I think, gritting my teeth as I parry a blow from a Skep Guard''s claws.


    That fat mother still has tricks to show us. Her fat arse may not be able to move much, but she is far from defenceless. As Elara looses an arrow at her, a shimmering shield springs up around the massive skep, deflecting the shot. The barrier flickers and fades after a few seconds, but I know it will be back.


    "Watch out for her magic!" I call to the others, dodging a swipe from another skep.


    ¡®No shit, Sherlock,¡¯ answers Misty.


    No sooner have the words left my mouth than a beam of energy shoots from the behemoth''s eyes, striking me in the shoulder. I cry out in pain, feeling as though I''ve been stabbed with a white-hot dagger.


    ¡®Fucking hell, that hurts,¡¯ I think, gritting my teeth against the agony.


    But I push through, keeping my focus on the fight. We''re getting closer now, the lair mother''s bulk looming before us.


    Suddenly, a pulse of energy erupts from her once more, washing over us like a tidal wave. I feel myself being hurled backwards, my feet leaving the ground as I''m thrown once more, forcefully away from her.


    I hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from my lungs. Around me, I see Elara and Misty struggling to their feet, looking as battered as I feel.


    "Fuck, she hits bloody hard," I mutter, spitting blood from my mouth.


    But we can''t give up now. We''ve come too far to let this oversized rat get the best of us.


    "Keep pushing forward!" Elara shouts, staggering to her feet. "We''ve got to take her down!"


    Misty snarls, a guttural growl from somewhere deep in her chest.


    I get back up. ¡°Ok, all ready?¡±


    Elara nods, her face set in grim determination as she nocks another arrow.


    Misty snarls, radiating fury as she charges back into the fray.


    I raise my sword and dagger once more. ¡®One way or another, we''re going to finish this.¡¯


    Pain lances through my ribs as I charge forward once more, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. ¡®Probably cracked a few,¡¯ I muse darkly. ¡®But I''ll be damned if I let that stop me.¡¯


    ¡®My hero.¡¯


    ¡®Shut the fuck up, Del.¡¯


    Ahead, Misty weaves between the remaining skeps, her claws and fangs a blur of deadly precision. Elara''s arrows whistle past, finding their marks with unerring accuracy.


    I engage a Skep Guard, my blades clashing with its glinting claws in a shower of sparks. It''s a tough bastard, its tough hide deflecting my strikes. But I press on, feinting left before driving my dagger into the side of its neck.


    "Del, watch out!" Elara cries, just as another green beam sears past my head.


    I drop to the ground, rolling to avoid the attack. "Bloody hell, that was too close!"


    ¡®That fat c**t''s not making this easy,¡¯ I think, glancing at her massive form.


    My momentary distraction nearly costs me, as a skep''s claw rakes across my thigh. I hiss in pain, retaliating with a vicious slash that severs the creature''s leg.


    "We need to end this!" I shout, my voice raw. "Elara, can you get a clear shot at the her eyes?"


    "I''ll try," she replies, her brow furrowed in concentration as she takes aim. I feel the hum of her mana taking shape.


    Misty yowls, drawing my attention. She''s cornered by three Skep Guards, their teeth snapping menacingly.


    ¡®Hang on, Misty,¡¯ I think, rushing to her aid.


    ¡®Now would be good, oh mighty warrior.¡¯ is her breathless reply.


    Together, Misty and I take on the guards, our desperate flurry of attacks slowly turning the tide.


    Suddenly, the lair mother lets out a shrill shriek of pain. I whirl to see one of Elara''s green glowing arrows protruding from the beast''s eye. Nature''s wrath, doing its job, causes that head to droop as if stunned¡ªor worse.


    "Nice shot!" I call, grinning fiercely.


    ¡®But it''s not over yet,¡¯ I realise, as the Lair mother thrashes wildly, her remaining eyes blazing with fury.


    She rears up, preparing for another push-back attack. I brace myself, knowing this one''s going to hurt like hell.


    ¡®Come on, you ugly mother-fucker,¡¯ I think, steeling my resolve. ¡®Give us your worst.¡¯


    Her eyes flare green just as my ginger ninja, in full-on extremely pissed-off mode, flies through the air and latches onto the creature''s exposed throat. With a screaming cry of pain from the beast and a huge fountain of blood, Misty drops down and rolls aside as the Lair mother slumps dead to the floor.


    [Congratulations you have killed 3 skep scouts; experience gained]


    [Congratulations you have killed 19 skeps; experience gained]


    [Congratulations you have killed 7 skep guards; experience gained]


    [Congratulations you have killed skep lair mother; experience gained]


    [Congratulations you have advanced your  Primary Cuvat; Points added]


    [Congratulations you have gained enough experience to level up; would you like to level up now?]

 Chapter 45 – So noble

    The adrenaline is still coursing through me as I stare down at the lair mother''s grotesque corpse. The twin heads hang limp, the patchy fur matted with ichor. Around me, the chamber¡ªa mess of shattered bones, foul nests, and shredded roots¡ªis eerily quiet now. I take a shaky breath, wiping my blade clean on the nearest skep guard''s carcass.


    Elara¡¯s voice breaks the silence. ¡°We did it.¡±


    Her tone carries more relief than triumph. She slumps against the wall, her bow resting across her knees. Misty, her ginger fur splattered with blood and grime, sits grooming herself with the pointed indignation only a cat can muster.


    ¡°Speak for yourself,¡± I mutter, sheathing my dagger and sword. ¡°I feel like I¡¯ve been run over by a herd of¡­ whatever the hell these things are.¡± My ribs protest as I stretch. ¡°Cracked a few, probably.¡±


    Misty¡¯s voice cuts in, sharp and unimpressed. ¡®You¡¯ll live. Probably. If you don¡¯t keel over first.¡¯


    I roll my eyes at her but don¡¯t argue. ¡°Elara, you good?¡±


    She nods, her face pale but determined. ¡°Drained, but I¡¯ll manage.¡± She eyes the carnage around us. ¡°We can¡¯t stay here. If more come, we¡¯ll be in trouble.¡±


    ¡°No argument there,¡± I reply. I glance down at the lair mother¡¯s corpse. ¡°But we should check this chamber first. There might be something useful buried in this mess.¡±


    Elara raises a brow. ¡°Useful? Among this filth?¡±


    Misty¡¯s tail flicks as she leaps gracefully onto a nearby pile of debris. ¡®You¡¯d be surprised what these scavengers drag home. Besides,¡¯ she adds with a pointed look at me, ¡®it¡¯s better than wandering back out empty-handed.¡¯


    ¡°Misty seems to think it may be worth looking around. She¡¯s got a point,¡± I admit. ¡°Let¡¯s see what we¡¯re dealing with.¡±


    We fan out cautiously, picking through the scattered remains. The stench is overwhelming¡ªa pungent mix of rotting food and the sickly-sweet metallic tang of blood and guts that clings to everything. I cover my nose with the edge of my sleeve, trying not to gag as I sift through a pile of shredded cloth and bone fragments.


    ¡°Nothing over here but broken bones,¡± I report, kicking aside a cracked skull. ¡°Most animal but some, humanoid.¡±


    Elara¡¯s light casts an eerie blue glow over the chamber as she crouches near one of the nests. ¡°This one¡¯s packed with oddments,¡± she says, holding up what looks like a tarnished belt buckle. ¡°Metalwork¡¯s old. Maybe valuable?¡±


    Misty sniffs the air, her nose wrinkling.


    ¡®There¡¯s something buried under this heap.¡¯ She starts digging with swift, efficient movements, scattering debris.


    Curious, I join her, crouching down as the tangle of roots and detritus gives way to something solid. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I mutter, brushing away the last of the dirt. My fingers close around a small, carved figurine. The wood is dark and weathered, but the craftsmanship is exquisite¡ªa tiny figure, armoured and looking powerful, holding a spear at his side.


    Elara peers over my shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s the God Thaldris,¡± she says softly. ¡°He is a representation of both war and honour. It looks old.¡±


    ¡°How did it end up here?¡± I wonder aloud, turning the figurine over in my hands. Its presence feels out of place amid the filth, as though it¡¯s waiting for someone to claim it.


    Misty¡¯s voice is sardonic.


    ¡®If it starts glowing, I¡¯m leaving.¡¯


    I chuckle, tucking the figurine into my pack.


    ¡°Fair enough. Let¡¯s keep moving.¡±


    The rest of the chamber offers little else of value. A few rusted tools, fragments of broken pottery, and one oddly intact boot that Misty proclaims unworthy of her attention. With nothing else to find, we regroup by the tunnel entrance.


    ¡°This way leads back to the fork,¡± Elara says, pointing toward the passage Misty had identified earlier. ¡°The other path¡­¡±


    ¡°Decay,¡± I finish grimly. ¡°And if the smell back there was any indication, it¡¯s not going to be pleasant.¡±


    Misty¡¯s tail flicks impatiently.


    ¡®Stop stalling. If there¡¯s something else dangerous down here, we need to know.¡¯


    ¡°Right,¡± I sigh, adjusting my pack. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    The tunnel narrows as we descend, forcing us into single file. The air grows colder, the damp earth pressing in around us. Roots dangle from the ceiling, brushing against my head like skeletal fingers. Every step feels heavier, the oppressive silence broken only by the soft crunch of our boots.


    ¡°Stay alert,¡± I murmur, gripping my dagger tightly. ¡°If anything so much as breathes wrong, I want to know.¡±


    Misty¡¯s response is dry. ¡®Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll let you know before it eats you.¡¯


    ''¡®Gee thanks, oh cat of mine, so noble.¡¯ I reply at my most sarcastic.


    ¡°Misty says she will warn us if something tries to eat us,¡± I tell Elara.


    She suppresses a chuckle, her light spell flickering faintly as she glances over her shoulder. ¡°Comforting.¡±


    The smell of decay becomes more apparent with every step. It¡¯s a cloying, nauseating stench that makes my stomach churn. I press forward, the weight of the tunnels pressing down on me. The further we go, the more the walls seem to close in, the air thick with the scent of earth and death.


    ¡°We¡¯re close,¡± Elara whispers, her voice barely audible. Her magic flares briefly, illuminating the tunnel ahead.


    Misty freezes, her ears swivelling forward.


    ¡®The fork,¡¯ she announces. ¡®The decay¡¯s smell is this way.¡¯ She nods toward the left-hand path, her fur bristling. ¡®And something else.¡¯


    ¡°Something worse?¡± I ask, my grip tightening on my weapons.


    Misty doesn¡¯t answer immediately. When she does, her tone is flat. ¡®Different.¡¯


    Elara¡¯s eyes meet mine, her expression unreadable.


    ¡°We should proceed carefully.¡±


    I nod, my heart pounding as we step forward. The tunnel yawns before us, its darkness seeming to pulse with a life of its own. Whatever lies ahead, it¡¯s waiting for us.


    The tunnel opens into a cavernous chamber, its ceiling lost in shadows. Elara''s light spell illuminates only a small portion, casting eerie blue shadows across the uneven ground. The air is thick with the stench of decay, but there''s something else¡ªa faint metallic tang that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.


    ¡°By the gods,¡± Elara breathes, her eyes wide as she takes in the scene before us.


    Scattered across the chamber floor are the remains of what must have been hundreds, if not thousands, of skeps. Their bones, bleached white with age, form macabre piles. But it''s not just skeps¡ªI spot humanoid skulls, some small enough to be children, others with elongated features that speak of non-human origins.


    Misty pads forward cautiously, her nose twitching. ¡®This is old,¡¯ she says, her voice tinged with unease. ¡®Very old.¡¯


    I step further into the chamber, my boots crunching softly on bone fragments. ¡°What happened here?¡± I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.


    As if in answer, my foot catches on something half-buried in the earth. I crouch down, brushing away layers of dirt and decayed matter to reveal a rusted piece of metal. It takes me a moment to recognize it for what it is¡ªa sword, its blade snapped in half, the hilt still bearing traces of intricate engravings.


    ¡°Elara,¡± I call softly, ¡°take a look at this.¡±


    She kneels beside me, her fingers tracing the faded patterns on the hilt. ¡°This is elven work,¡± she says, her voice hushed. ¡°Ancient. It shouldn''t be here.¡±


    A chill runs down my spine. ¡°You think your people fought here? Against the skeps?¡±


    Elara shakes her head slowly. ¡°Not just against skeps. Look.¡±


    She points to a far corner of the chamber where a hulking skeleton rests, its bones far larger than any skep we''ve encountered. Its skull, misshapen and grotesque, sports a set of wicked tusks.


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!¡°An orc,¡± Elara whispers. ¡°Or something like it. This wasn''t just a skep nest. It was a battlefield.¡±


    Misty''s tail lashes uneasily. ¡®There''s more,¡¯ she says, padding toward a section of the wall partially hidden by fallen debris. ¡®Look here.¡¯


    I follow, and as my light falls on the wall, I suck in a sharp breath. Crude paintings cover the stone surface¡ªstick figures wielding spears and swords, facing off against monstrous shapes. Some of the figures are clearly elven, their pointed ears unmistakable. Others are stockier, perhaps human or dwarf. And looming over them all, a massive shape unlike anything any of us have seen before. Beneath it, fresher skep corpses slowly rot, throats torn out as if in some ritual.


    Had the skep been sacrificing their own for some reason?


    ¡°Is it a record?¡± I whisper, my fingers tracing the faded lines. ¡°A record of what happened here.¡± I indicate the bodies below. ¡°And whatever that was, the skep seem to still mark it.¡±


    Elara nods, her face pale in the blue light. ¡°A battle, long ago. Elves, humans, dwarves... they all fought here. From the bones, were they fighting skeps, or were the skeps fighting with them against whatever that thing is?¡±


    I study the painting more closely, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene. The massive figure looms over the smaller shapes, its form a twisted amalgamation of sharp teeth and multiple limbs.


    Misty''s voice cuts through my thoughts. ''They were fighting together,'' she says, her tone certain. ''Elves, humans, dwarves, even the skeps. Against that.''


    She flicks her tail toward the monstrous shape painted on the wall, its form towering over the other figures. I feel a chill run down my spine as I study the crude lines, trying to make sense of the creature depicted there. It''s unlike anything I''ve ever seen - a mass of twisted limbs and gaping maws, with eyes that seem to stare out from the stone itself.


    "What is it?" I whisper, my voice sounding small in the cavernous chamber.


    Elara shakes her head, her brow furrowed. "I don''t know. It''s not like any creature I''ve heard of, even in the old stories."


    But there''s something else, a strange symbol etched into the stone beneath it.


    ¡°What is that?¡± I mutter, leaning in for a better look. The symbol is jagged and angular, like a twisted rune. It pulses with a faint, sickly light.


    Elara inhales sharply. ¡°I know that symbol. It''s... it''s the mark of the Blight.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡± I ask, glancing back at her. Her face is ashen, her eyes wide with a fear I''ve never seen before.


    ¡°The Blight,¡± she repeats, her voice trembling. ¡°An ancient evil, a corruption that twists and destroys all it touches. It was said to have been banished aeons ago, but...¡± She gestures to the painting, her hand shaking. ¡°If this is true, if the Blight was here...¡±


    Misty''s fur stands on end. ¡®This place reeks of wrong,¡¯ she hisses, backing away from the wall. ¡®We need to leave. Now.¡¯


    I nod, a cold knot of dread settling in my stomach. ¡°Elara, can you copy this symbol? We may need to research it later.¡±


    She nods jerkily, already sketching the jagged rune onto a scrap of parchment with shaking hands.


    As she works, I scan the chamber again, my mind racing. The pieces are starting to fall into place¡ªthe ancient battle, the strange alliances, the twisted creatures born of corruption. But what role did this "Blight" play? And could it still be a threat?


    Misty cuts through my thoughts, sharp with urgency. ¡®Del, we¡¯ve lingered too long. The stench of decay is growing stronger. We need to move.¡¯


    I take a deep breath, tearing my gaze away from the unsettling painting. ¡°Right. Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    We hurry back through the tunnels, our footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. The air feels heavier now, the darkness more suffocating. It''s as if the very stones are pressing in around us, whispering of ancient horrors better left buried.


    When we finally emerge into the daylight, blinking against the sudden brightness, it''s like surfacing from a nightmare. It¡¯s as if I can breathe again. I feel the sweat turning colder as the breeze plays over me.


    ''¡®Damn, it¡¯s good to be back outside.¡¯


    ¡°Let''s get back and check on Naomi and the others,¡± I say, relief at being outside clear in my voice.


    The farm stretches out in the distance before us, deceptively peaceful. But the weight of what we''ve seen lingers, a shadow that refuses to dissipate.


    Elara clutches the parchment to her chest, her knuckles white. ¡°We need to warn the others. If the Blight is stirring again...¡±


    I nod grimly. ¡°We will. But first, we need to make sure Joel and his family are safe.¡±


    Now clear of the overwhelming oppression, I glance at my notices. Immediately selecting yes to levelling up.


    If I have learned one thing so far in my journey, one can never have too many levels, and I am pleased, but all things considered not too shocked to find I have gained another two after this trip into the skep tunnels. I split my 4 points between Strength, Dexterity and Intelligence, with a slight grumble I notice Misty maintains her small lead over my level.


    ''¡®Damn cat doesn¡¯t need any more reasons to feel all superior,¡¯ I grumble.


    Name: Del Axholm


    Level: 11


    Path: Archer


    Health: 78


    Strength: 24


    Dexterity: 21


    Stamina: 22


    Intelligence: 16


    Wisdom: 13


    Mana: 88


    Spirit: 71


    Agility: 32


    Presence: 10


    Animal Companion: Misty; feline


    Skills:


    Archery lvl 3 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows


    Woodcraft lvl 3 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.


    Tracking lvl 2 ¨C Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.


    Traps lvl 1 ¨C Can make basic snares and pit traps.


    Sneak lvl 4 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.


    Herbalism lvl 2 ¨C Can identify and gather basic herbs.


    Skinning lvl 3 ¨C Can manage to roughly skin a carcass.


    Leadership lvl 2 - Able to command small groups of up to 20.


    Attacks:


    Bow lvl 3 ¨C Simple Shot.


    Sword lvl 9 ¨C Cut, thrust.


    Dagger lvl 5 ¨C Stab, Slash.


    Special Attacks:


    Bow:


    Sneak attack lvl 1 ¨C Doubles damage


    Master Archer lvl 1 ¨C Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.


    Dagger:


    Backstab lvl 2 ¨C Double damage.


    Two Handed Melee lvl 5 ¨C Two weapon fighting, twice the fun.


    Name: Misty


    Level: 12


    Path: Feline Companion


    Health: 70


    Strength: 17


    Dexterity: 23


    Stamina: 20


    Intelligence: 14


    Wisdom: 6


    Mana: 84


    Spirit: 36


    Agility: 35


    Presence: 20


    Skills:


    Charm lvl 4 ¨C Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.


    Transform lvl 3 ¨C Can assume Hellcat form, Strength, Dexterity and Health Double for 22 minutes, These values halved for 26 minutes after effect ends.


    Attacks:


    Claw lvl 10 ¨C Attack with front claws.


    Rake lvl 7 ¨C Double rear leg attack.


    Bite lvl 7 ¨C It¡¯s teeth all the way


    Special Attacks:


    Pounce lvl 10 ¨C Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause the target to stumble.


    Sneak Pounce lvl 5 ¨C As above; Triple damage.

 Chapter 46 – You can’t win this

    The eerie silence presses against my ears as we approach the farm, a sense of wrongness permeating the air. Broken fences and trampled grass tell a story of intrusion and violence. I exchange a glance with Misty, her fur standing on end, a low growl rumbling in her throat.


    "Stay alert," I murmur, nocking an arrow. "Something''s not right."


    Misty slinks ahead, her lithe form melting into the shadows. I strain my senses, searching for any hint of movement or sound. The weight of my bow is reassuring in my hands, a familiar anchor in this sea of uncertainty.


    Suddenly, Misty''s voice echoes in my mind. ¡®Movement near the farmhouse. Four, maybe five men.¡¯


    My heart clenches. ¡®Naomi, Joel... please be safe.¡¯


    A faint, desperate barking reaches my ears, and I turn to see a thin trail of smoke rising from the direction of the barn. Another wisp curls up from the crossroads, an ominous beacon.


    "Wren," I breathe, recognising the dog''s distress. "Elara, this isn¡¯t good. Misty reports four or five unknowns around the farm."


    I fight the urge to rush in, knowing that caution is our ally. Yet the thought of Joel¡¯s family at the mercy of these brigands... Let alone what Naomi might be going through.


    "Del, look." Elara¡¯s voice is sharp, urgent.


    I follow her gaze to see a lone figure emerging from the treeline, heading towards the farm. The glint of a blade at their hip sends a chill down my spine.


    "A lookout," I realise, my mind racing. "If we take them out quietly, we might be able to get closer without being spotted."


    Misty''s voice snarls with predatory intent. ¡®Leave that to me.¡¯


    As she vanishes into the undergrowth, I draw a steadying breath, forcing down the rising tide of panic. We''ve faced worse odds before, I remind myself. But the stakes have never felt so high.


    ¡®Hang on, guys. We''re coming.¡¯


    I crouch beside Elara, our bodies pressed against the rough bark of an ancient oak. The elf''s brow furrows in concentration as she extends her senses, seeking that ethereal thread that binds her to Naomi.


    "Anything?" I whisper, my voice tight with urgency.


    Elara''s eyes snap open, a flicker of fear dancing within those emerald depths. "I... I can''t feel her, Del. It''s like she''s been swallowed by the void."


    A leaden weight settles in my gut. Naomi''s dream-walking has always been a beacon, a shimmering lifeline connecting her to Elara. For it to be severed so completely...


    "Could she be unconscious? Or¡ª" I choke on the word, unwilling to give voice to the darker possibilities clawing at my mind.


    Elara''s hand finds mine, her slender fingers intertwining with my calloused ones. "We mustn''t assume the worst. Naomi is strong, and the Goddess watches over her."


    I cling to that hope, to the faith that has carried us through so many trials. Yet the silence that echoes through our bond is a yawning chasm, a void that threatens to swallow me whole.


    A rustle of leaves draws our attention, and Misty materialises from the shadows, her tail flicking angrily side to side.


    ¡®The lookout''s been dealt with. But move fast. More movement near the farmhouse.¡¯


    I nod, steeling myself against the fear gnawing at my insides. "Let''s get a closer look. Stay low and stay sharp."


    We creep forward, the tall grass whispering against our legs as we approach the weathered structure. Even from a distance, the signs of struggle are evident. Shattered windows gape like wounds, jagged shards glinting in the fading light. The once-neat rows of crops lay trampled, the earth churned and stained with a substance I desperately hope isn''t blood.


    ¡®They put up a fight,¡¯ Misty murmurs, her keen eyes scanning the scene. ¡®Barricaded the doors and windows, but it won''t hold for much longer.¡¯


    I swallow hard, picturing Joel and his family desperately fending off the attackers. They''re farmers, not fighters, and the thought of them facing such violence alone...


    "We''ll make them pay," I growl, the rage simmering beneath my skin. "Every last one of them."


    Elara''s hand on my arm is a gentle reminder, a tether to the light amidst the gathering darkness. "Justice, Del. Not vengeance. We must be better than those who would prey upon the innocent."


    I exhale slowly, the fury ebbing to a dull throb.


    ¡®Stay calm and think, Del. You aren¡¯t helping anyone if you lose control.¡¯


    ¡®Fine then,¡¯ I reluctantly agree. ¡®But if they¡¯ve hurt any of them, the gloves come off.¡¯


    ¡®Seems fair, Del. Seems fair.¡¯


    I turn to the elf.


    "Alright. We need a plan. Elara, we''ll circle around the back¡ª"


    But my words are cut short by a sudden scream, high and sharp and filled with terror. It rips through the air like a blade, and I feel it echoed in the depths of my own soul.


    Naomi?


    A plume of smoke rises from the nearby barn, the acrid scent of burning hay and wood assaulting my nostrils. The brigands, it seems, have grown impatient with their waiting game.


    "They''re trying to force them out," Elara murmurs, her ire rising. "Raise the stakes to make them abandon their shelter."


    I grit my teeth, the urge to charge in and confront the bastards nearly overwhelming. But I force myself to think, to strategise. Rushing in blindly will only get us all killed.


    "Misty, scout the perimeter," I command, my voice low and urgent. "See if you can spot any tracks leading away from the farm. We need to know their numbers, their positions."


    She nods, a terse dip of her head, and vanishes into the lengthening shadows with a swish of her tail. I turn to Elara, my heart hammering against my ribs.


    "Can you sense her? Naomi? Anything at all?"


    Elara closes her eyes, her brow furrowing in concentration. For a long, agonising moment, there''s only silence. Then, a shuddering breath.


    "She''s alive," Elara whispers, relief and worry warring in her tone. "But her presence is... muted. As if she''s far away, or..."


    She doesn''t finish the thought, but I can see the implications in the tightness around her eyes, the quiver of her lip. Naomi is hurt, or worse. And we''re running out of time.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    A soft rustling announces Misty''s return, her green eyes glinting in the gathering dusk. ¡®Found their camp,¡¯ she reports, with a low growl. ¡®About a dozen of them, hidden in the woods near the crossroads. Laughing and counting their spoils like the filthy scavengers they are.¡¯


    Rage flares anew in my chest, white-hot and searing. But I tamp it down, focusing on the task at hand. "Right. Here''s what we''re going to do..."


    As I lay out the plan, I can''t shake the feeling that we''re balanced on a knife''s edge, the fates of Joel¡¯s family hanging in the balance. Naomi possibly hurt or worse. Whatever awaits us in the fight ahead, we''ll handle it. And may the gods have mercy on anyone who stands in our way.


    I crouch low in the underbrush, the rough bark of a tree pressing against my back as I survey the scene before me. The brigand lookout is a scrawny, ill-kempt man, more focused on picking his teeth with a dagger than keeping watch. Beside me, Elara''s breathing is slow and steady, her bow held at the ready.


    "On three," I whisper, my hand tightening around the hilt of my sword. "One... two..."


    Before I can finish the count, a twig snaps beneath Elara''s foot. The lookout''s head jerks up, his eyes widening as they lock onto our position. "Intruders!" he shouts, scrambling for his weapon.


    Cursing under my breath, I surge forward, my blade flashing in the dappled sunlight. The brigand manages to draw his sword just in time to parry my first strike, the clang of metal on metal shattering the forest''s stillness.


    We trade blows in a deadly dance, my sword seeking gaps in his defence as he fights with the desperate fury of a cornered animal. I can hear Elara''s bowstring thrumming behind me, her arrows whizzing past to keep the brigand off balance.


    "Yield," I grunt, my blade locked against his. "You can''t win this."


    The brigand spits in my face, his eyes blazing with hate. "Go to hell," he snarls, shoving me back and lunging forward.


    But his anger makes him reckless. I easily sidestep his charge, my sword darting out to slash across his thigh. He stumbles, crying out in pain, and I press my advantage, slamming the pommel of my sword into his temple.


    The brigand crumples to the ground, his weapon falling from limp fingers.


    Barely even breathing hard, I kick his sword away and kneel to check his pulse. He''s alive, but out cold.


    ¡®Well, that could have gone smoother,¡¯ I mutter, wiping sweat from my brow.


    ¡®Always the damn critic, would it hurt you to approve now and then?¡¯ I ask myself irately.


    ¡®Any harder and you would have broken his skull open like an egg, Del,¡¯ I point out. ¡®Maybe use a little less power next time.¡¯


    Elara joins me, her face grim as she studies our captive. "We need to wake him up, find out what he knows."


    I nod, my jaw clenching. "Time to get some answers."


    We bind the brigand''s hands and feet, and then Elara waves a pungent herb beneath his nose. He comes to with a groan, blinking groggily against the sunlight filtering through the trees.


    "Rise and shine, sweetheart," I drawl, hauling him into a sitting position. "We''ve got some questions for you."


    The brigand glares at me, his split lip curling into a sneer. "I ain''t telling you nothing."


    Elara steps forward, her eyes glinting dangerously. "Oh, I think you will," she says softly, her fingers crackling with arcane energy. "One way or another."


    "How many of you are there?¡± I demand. ¡°What''s your leader planning?"


    The brigand remains stubbornly silent. But as Elara''s vines begin to coil around him, his resolve starts to crumble.


    "Look... there''s about a dozen of us, alright?" he whimpers. "We were just supposed to raid the farm, grab whatever valuables we could find. But Karth, he''s got bigger plans..."


    "What plans?" I demand, my heart hammering against my ribs.


    The brigand licks his lips nervously. "He wants to use the farm as a base, see? Bleed the traffic dry on the crossroads. And that girl..." A shudder runs through him. "He''s got ''special'' plans for her."


    The bottom drops out of my stomach.


    The thought of her at the mercy of these animals...


    "Where is she?" The words tear from my throat, raw and ragged. "What have you done to her?"


    The brigand cringes away from the fury in my voice. "I don''t know, I swear! Karth''s got her stashed somewhere, but he didn''t tell the rest of us!"


    I snatch a fistful of his shirt, dragging him nose-to-nose with me. "And Joel and Mara? The couple who owns this farm? Their boy?"


    "Barricaded in the farmhouse still, far as I know. Karth wants them alive, in case he needs leverage."


    I shove him away in disgust, my mind racing. We have to get Joel¡¯s family out of this. But a dozen brigands, plus their leader... The odds aren''t in their favour.


    I smile malevolently.


    ¡®Sounds like it''s time to put all these levels to use, Del.¡¯


    I glance at Elara, seeing my own determination reflected in her eyes. But there''s worry there too, I can understand. She had seen what Misty can do but so far, around her, I had held back enough so she didn¡¯t really know just how fast and strong I was now.


    ¡®Guess you have to see it sometime, lass.¡¯ I acknowledge.


    ¡®Menolly, I damn well know you are watching. Once this is over. You and me. We need to talk.¡¯


    "We''ll need to be smart about this," she says softly, laying a hand on my shoulder. "Scope out their camp, look for weaknesses. Maybe cause a distraction, divide their forces..."


    I shake my head.


    ¡°No, we split up.¡± She looks at me puzzled. ¡°You go to the back of the farmhouse. If you can, snipe the few down there.¡±


    I look at my cat. ¡°Misty, go with her, keep her safe.¡± Misty mewls a quiet agreement and transforms into her hellcat body.


    ¡®No harm will come to her,¡¯ she assures me.


    Elara¡¯s acknowledgement is reluctantly given, but her concern is obvious.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± she asks.


    I nod, my face grim. With that, she turns and follows Misty to a good shooting position on the other side of the farm.


    ¡®Time to hunt,¡¯ I growl, adopting Misty¡¯s favourite phrase. ¡®These fuckers crossed the line.¡¯


    Looking down at the dirty face on the floor below me, I raise my boot and bring it down on his head. Turning my back on the pitiful lifeless form, I let the shadows of the forest swallow me whole; but the fire in my veins burns brighter than ever.


    ¡®I¡¯m coming, Naomi. Just hold on...¡¯

 Chapter 47 – She’s just a kid

    The night air is thick and suffocating. My movements are swift and silent as I glide through the underbrush, my senses hyperaware of every rustle and whisper in the darkness. The world around me blurs into shades of grey, like a haunting dream. My breaths are slow, deliberate, but my heart thunders like a war drum.


    ''They deserve this,'' I tell myself, gritting my teeth with determination. ''What kind of people do this? She¡¯s just a kid¡ªa child.''


    ''And they think they can take her, use her, break her, and no one will stop them.'' Even the voice that normally mocks me, that questions my every choice, is silent now. For once, it agrees. ''No one will make them pay?''


    My grip tightens on the hilt of my blade. ''Well, they¡¯re wrong, Del,'' I confirm. ''This time, there¡¯s someone who will. Someone who can.''


    I exhale sharply, trying to steady the inferno burning in my chest. ''This isn¡¯t revenge, mate,'' I tell myself, though the rage in my veins whispers otherwise. ''This is justice.''


    The image of the scout¡¯s lifeless body flashes in my mind, his blood staining the ground beneath him. I can still feel the wet crunch of his skull beneath my boot, but instead of disgust, it only fuels the fire roaring in my chest. They took Naomi. They dared to take her from us. And for that, every single one of them will pay with their lives.


    ''She¡¯s just a kid,'' I am calm, deliberate. ''You made a big mistake taking her.''


    Misty¡¯s words echo in my mind: ''About a dozen of them, hidden in the woods near the crossroads.'' She had delivered the report with a cold efficiency that matched my mood. No jokes. No sarcasm. Even she could feel the storm brewing inside me.


    I pause, crouching low behind a thicket, my eyes locking on the faint glow of their campfire in the distance. The camp is a chaotic mess, filled with drunken laughter and shouting. The smell of alcohol and smoke fills the air, mixing with the stench of sweat and unwashed bodies. But I am not here to take in the sights or smells.


    The bandits¡¯ laughter carries on the wind, a stark contrast to the anger boiling in my veins. They¡¯re laughing. Laughing while Naomi is suffering, while Joel¡¯s family huddles in terror at the farmhouse.


    ''They think they¡¯re safe,'' I snarl inwardly. ''They think they can do whatever they want without consequence.''


    ''Well, Del,'' I agree. ''Let¡¯s show them what consequences look like.''


    I shift my weight, testing the ground beneath me for any sign of disturbance. The soft earth yields easily under my feet, a testament to my heightened senses and newfound agility. It''s still hard to believe how effortlessly I move now compared to just weeks ago. My current level sends a thrill of exhilaration through my body. Back on Earth, I would have been nothing compared to these men. But here, in this foreign land, I am something else entirely. Faster, stronger...a predator among prey. Every step I take is purposeful and precise, fuelled by a primal instinct and an insatiable desire to conquer and dominate. The thought alone sends a shiver down my spine and ignites a fire within me. The camp grows closer with every silent step. I count eight figures around the fire, their shadows dancing on the surrounding trees. Two more linger near the edge of the clearing, sentries who aren¡¯t paying nearly enough attention. And then there¡¯s him¡ªKarth. I recognise the scarred face from Misty¡¯s description, the cruel smile stretched across his lips as he sharpens a blade that glints in the firelight.


    My hands curl into fists. ''You¡¯re going to tell me everything, Karth. Every last detail.''


    The first sentry was so lost in thought that he didn''t even hear my approach. My dagger glided through his flesh like a silent whisper, the tip finding its mark in his vulnerable throat. With a gentle lowering, I laid him down on the ground, leaving no trace of our encounter.


    His companion had barely enough time to register my presence before my blade pierced his heart, cutting off any chance for an outcry. As I stood over their lifeless bodies, I watched as the crimson liquid seeped into the earth, adding to the already rich soil beneath my feet. The night air was heavy with the scent of death and I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of remorse before continuing on my mission.


    ''Stop that, Del,'' I react to the feeling angrily. ''Time to consider actions comes later.''


    The firelight flickers as I step into the clearing. Eight heads turn toward me, their expressions ranging from surprise to terror.


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± one of them barks, scrambling for his weapon.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    I don¡¯t answer. Words are wasted on the dead.


    The first one lunges for me, a large axe swinging dangerously close to my face. I duck and roll, coming up behind him and driving my sword through his back. The others hesitate for only a moment before attacking with renewed fury.


    Without breaking a sweat, I dance through their strikes, my sword and dagger moving in deadly unison. They¡¯re skilled fighters, but no match for someone who¡¯s so much stronger, so much faster.


    What I don¡¯t have in technique I make up for in raw power and rage.


    A sharp pain lances through my arm as one of them manages to graze me with a knife. I barely even feel it as I retaliate with a swift kick to his chest. He goes down hard, and I finish him off with a clean cut to the throat.


    The remaining four bandits are starting to realise that they¡¯re outmatched. One of them turns tail and runs, but I¡¯m faster. My dagger flies through the air and finds its mark between his shoulder blades.


    My senses are heightened, every nerve on edge as I hear the distinct whistle of a sword sailing past my ear. With a swift and calculated response, I launch myself into a spinning kick that sends the wielder sprawling. My own blade follows suit, severing his head from his shoulders with one fluid motion. His body crumples to the dirt, and I am already moving onto the next target.


    I lose myself in the chaos, in the blood and screams. Limbs fly in all directions as I fight for those I love. My body moves with an innate sense of purpose, a deadly dance of steel and fury that seems to come from somewhere deep within me. Though a small part of my mind knows this isn''t who I am, it''s been overridden by the primal survival instincts that have taken over. In this moment, nothing else matters.


    The last bandit falls with a gurgling cry, the coppery scent of blood fills the air, mingled with the stench of sweat and fear. The bandit''s body releases a pungent odour as his bowels release upon death. I turn to face Karth.


    Grim determination etches itself onto Karth''s face as he stands at the edge of the clearing, his sword gripped tightly in his hand. A mixture of fear and defiance radiates from him, but I am unfazed.


    ¡°You think you¡¯re some kind of hero?¡± he sneers, raising his sword. ¡°You¡¯re nothing but a butcher.¡±


    His taunts fall on deaf ears as my own blade meets his with a resounding clang. The battle begins.


    Despite his strength and speed, Karth is no match for me. I dance around him, my movements fluid and calculated. He swings wildly, but each strike is easily parried or dodged. I toy with him, letting him think he has a chance. A shallow cut to his arm. A slash across his thigh. With each blow, his movements grow slower and more desperate.


    ¡°You are fucking scum,¡± he screams at me. ¡°Worse than the lowest of these bastards you tore apart.¡±


    I ignore him, batting aside his strikes with ease. His once powerful sword, now a weight he can barely lift. His legs tremble and his breath comes out in ragged gasps as he collapses to his knees.


    ¡°Where is she?¡± I demand, my voice icy and sharp, cutting through the tense air.


    He spits blood onto the ground, his eyes full of hatred as he glares up at me. ¡°Go to hell.¡±


    ¡°Wrong answer.¡±


    With a swift kick, I send him sprawling to the ground, his body crumpling under the force of my boot. ¡°Where is Naomi?¡± My voice echoes with a dangerous edge, daring him to give me the answer I seek. The scent of sweat and iron fills my nostrils as I wait for his response, my heart racing with anger and determination.


    His resolve quickly crumbles under my relentless assault. Sweat beads on his forehead and his once proud posture slumps as I beat him into submission. Blood gushes from his broken nose and mouth as he gasps for air, begging for mercy and spilling the answers I so desperately need.


    Naomi is locked in a shed, tied, shackled and sedated with listwort.


    Karth doesn¡¯t tell me easily what plans he had in store for her. Another broken finger or three makes him talk through swollen bloody lips.


    ¡°She has power, could feel it,¡± he spits out a gobbet of phlegmy blood. ¡°Was in a trance in the hay barn. Magic slaves are valuable across the sea in Easher.¡±


    He glares up at me, well as best he can through puffed and swollen eyes.


    I just look down at him in disgust and with a quick flick of my wrist I open his throat to the evening air.


    The metallic clang of steel and screams pierce through the fog of war, snapping me back to reality. My adrenaline-fuelled heart pounds furiously in my chest as I whip my head towards the source, my mind racing with thoughts of loved ones on the line.


    Without hesitation, I bolt forward at breakneck speed, the wind roaring past my ears as I navigate through the woods. The ground blurs beneath my feet, my muscles straining with every powerful stride. A single mission drives me forward, a fire burning fiercely within me.


    As I approach the farmhouse, the sound of battle fills the air. Elara''s arrows whistle through the evening¡¯s fading light, each one hitting its target with deadly accuracy. Her movements are fluid and graceful as she defends Joel¡¯s home from the invading bandits.


    Misty, in her hellcat form, is a blur of fur and fury, tearing through the remaining bandits like a wild storm. Their desperate cries mix with the clash of weapons and the roar of flames from the burning buildings nearby. The smell of smoke and blood fills my nostrils as I race around, my heart pounding with adrenaline and fear for my friends'' safety. Despite the chaos, I know I can trust in Elara''s skilled archery and Misty''s ferocious strength.


    I skid to a halt, and take in the scene. The ground is littered with the lifeless bodies of their attackers, crimson pools of blood forming beneath them. Elara stands at the centre of the carnage, her bow held loosely in her hand and her chest heaving with exertion. Misty, her white fur now stained with splatters of blood, pads over to me with a proud glint in her eyes.


    ''Took you long enough,'' she remarks, her voice dry as ever. With a flick of her tail she settles down to begin the arduous task of carefully cleaning every speck from her coat. She had fought bravely as always, defending her pack from this brutal attack.


    The stench of death and viscera hangs heavy in the air as we stand amidst the aftermath of the battle. But despite it all, we are victorious and our spirits soar with a sense of triumph.


    I let out a breath I hadn¡¯t realised I was holding. They¡¯re safe. For now.


    ¡°Naomi,¡± I say, my voice hoarse. ¡°I know where she is. Let¡¯s go get her.¡±

 Chapter 48 – You have been busy

    [You have killed 9 Bandits lvl 3; No experience gained due to level disparity]


    [You have killed 5 Bandits lvl 4; No experience gained due to level disparity]


    [You have killed 3 Bandit scouts lvl 4; No experience gained due to level disparity]


    [You have killed Bandit Leader lvl 5; No experience gained due to level disparity]


    I lead the way back towards the camp. Misty prowls ahead on the lookout for trouble, her flicking tail like a flag leading us on.


    She isn¡¯t too far ahead, and when I see her stop, I know she is just beyond the bounds of the camp. The smell of smoke from the campfire still hangs in the air, but fortunately, at least from where we are, the gentle breeze has cleared away the other more traumatic aromas of battle.


    ¡°The camp is just ahead,¡± I tell Elara, adding, ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a mess.¡±


    As we approach, the camp comes into view. The scene before us resembles an open-air slaughterhouse with no trace of mercy in sight. The ground is slick with blood, creating glistening pools that reflect the flickering light of the remaining fire. Body parts are scattered about haphazardly. Misty, my sweet little kitty, is lazily batting at a severed leg caught in a nearby tree branch. A severed head lies close to the dying flames, the hair smoking slightly.


    Weapons of all kinds lay strewn about the chaotic battlefield, abandoned by their owners during the intense combat. The air is thick with the acrid scent of blood and carnage, a reminder of the brutal violence that has just taken place.


    Elara just stands there in stunned silence. Her gaze wanders around the place. At one point, her eyes fall on the badly beaten and battered remains of Karth.


    She looks up at me, a mix of shock, awe, and possibly even a touch of fear in her gaze.


    ¡°Del?¡± she questions.


    ¡°I know it looks bad,¡± I say in what must be the understatement of the decade. ¡°I kind of lost my grip a bit with them taking Naomi.¡±


    As I¡¯m speaking, in my mind, I am screaming.


    ¡®Menolly! I need you.¡¯ I am angry¡ªangry at myself, angry at the situation. But most of all, angry with the fucking Galactic whatever they call it.


    ¡®I need you right NOW!¡¯


    The world freezes.


    The only things moving are Misty and myself. She looks at me curiously, then her eyes flick to my left. I turn and see Menolly. She calmly picks her way through the camp.


    ¡°You have been busy,¡± she says, sitting gracefully upon a chair that wasn¡¯t there moments before. Her tone is neutral, her gaze curious.


    With a hand, she indicates the surrounding carnage.


    ¡°I see you are adapting to your new strength and abilities. But taking lives like these will not advance your cuvat¡¯s progress.¡±


    Her gaze locks on mine. ¡°Nor will summoning me like some lapdog.¡± Her voice takes on a sharper tone.


    ¡®You thrust us into this like lab rats,¡¯ Misty¡¯s voice rings acerbically. ¡®So if not a lapdog, are you our guard cur instead?¡¯


    Menolly¡¯s brows raise at this insult delivered in Misty¡¯s typical feline fashion.


    ¡°No,¡± she answers after a moment¡¯s pause. ¡°But point taken. Now, why did you request this meeting?¡±


    I take a breath to steady my nerves and gather my thoughts.


    ¡°It¡¯s Elara. She has become important to me.¡± Misty pads over and sits at my feet. ¡°To both of us. But it¡¯s getting too much. Even a blind man would soon notice we are not the average type of this land. We are too strong,¡± I look around. ¡°Far too strong, and we learn new things too fast.¡±


    I shrug, unsure of how to continue.


    ¡®What the idiot is trying to say,¡¯ Misty takes over, ¡®is it¡¯s fine for those we only pass in the night. The family here, for example. To them, we will just seem competent.¡¯


    ¡°But for Elara, she has been with us from the beginning.¡± I continue, now back in my flow. ¡°She is noticing that I am different, that Misty is far from normal.¡±


    ¡°And what do you want us to do about that?¡± Menolly asks. ¡°Is it not a problem of your own making?¡± Once again, she indicates the gorefest around us.


    ¡°You could, for example, have handled this situation in a completely different manner.¡±


    ¡°I know, and trust me. I don¡¯t like in any way the man I became when I was in this camp. But,¡± I pause, take control of my rising anger and in a tight voice continue, ¡°They took Naomi. She is just a child and was under my protection. This is on their own hands.¡±


    ¡°So, you say this was a morally justified slaughter?¡± she asks me.


    ¡°Yes, no¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± I flounder.


    ¡®It is the role of the guardian to protect the nest and within it, the kittens,¡¯ Misty states with feline simplicity. ¡®And destroy any who would dare threaten it,¡¯ she adds with a growl.


    ¡°Misty is right,¡± I state with determination, now firming my resolve. ¡°This was necessary. Not pretty, but it needed doing, and I was the one that needed to do it.¡±


    Menolly looks at me in a way that makes me feel as if she is dissecting my soul. She nods.


    ¡°Very well. It is important you are able to not just act on your convictions but justify them. That is the path of adaptation and growth. Actions done without purpose are the path to chaos.¡±


    ¡°So what about Elara?¡± I ask.


    ¡°What about her?¡± Menolly responds. ¡°Be specific.¡±


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.¡°She is part of this little party now. I can¡¯t just walk off and leave her. So how do I handle the obvious complications?¡±


    ¡°You could be more¡­ discrete,¡± Menolly suggests.


    ¡®Would not work,¡¯ Misty states. ¡®She already questions so much happening around us. She also knows.¡¯ The cat stretches languidly and then, extending her claws, looks at them. ¡®That I am more.¡¯


    ¡°True, she has told me of rare creatures that can have two forms, but never of ones that can talk,¡± I add.


    ¡°You have a cuvat associated with her, to help her find her path.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I agree with Menolly. ¡°So perhaps her path is to be a full member of this group.¡±


    ¡°Once again, Del, be specific.¡±


    I take a breath, gather my thoughts, and prepare for the outburst and refusal I fully expect.


    ¡°I want her Awakened.¡±


    There is silence. The only thing of note is the cyborg¡¯s eyes, which flicker from blue to grey rapidly in the manner I have come to associate with her consulting her higher-ups.


    After a minute, Menolly stands and goes over to look closely at the elf, her chair disappearing as she does so.


    ¡°There would be complications.¡±


    ¡°In what way?¡± I ask.


    ¡°This would alter her path completely. She would be tying herself to you.¡± She looks back to me. ¡°Do you think that is something that she would want? That you could do to her?¡±


    ¡°Would she have a choice?¡±


    ¡°Of a kind. If she agrees it is what she wants, then we can awaken her. If not¡­¡± she pauses. ¡°We would take her from here. Her memories would be tweaked, and she would never remember you as anything other than some guy who saved her life a while back. then went on his way.¡±


    ¡°What of Naomi in that case?¡± I have to know.


    ¡°We would remove her too. She would be with Elara to continue on to Hybern and place her with a tutor. As far as Naomi is concerned, she would never have met you.¡±


    It all feels harsh, but I can understand the why of it. Now I just have to decide if I can put that onto Elara.


    ¡®Can I do that to her though? Change her whole future.¡¯


    ¡®Come on, Del,¡¯ I angrily retort. ¡®You know damn well what she would choose.¡¯


    ¡®Do I? Do I really?¡¯ My questions just keep going round in circles and tangled spirals.


    ¡®Enough, Del. She at least deserves the right to decide for herself.¡¯ And that closes the argument as far as I am concerned.


    Coming to that final conclusion, I ask the one remaining thing on my mind.


    ¡°And what of Naomi, if Elara chooses to Awaken?¡±


    ¡°She will not be a problem. Her path diverts from yours at Hybern, whatever decision you and Elara make. Her mind is young, and she will not ascribe any particular thoughts of the unusual to you. And within a short while, you will just be another childhood adventure.¡±


    I nod. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s see what Elara wants to do.¡±


    Elara gasps, her eyes darting between me and Menolly, who stands as still and composed as a statue. Misty watches silently, her tail flicking in slow, deliberate arcs.


    ¡°Who is she?¡± her voice starts to rise in alarm. ¡°Del, what¡¯s going on? Where did she come from?¡± In a blur, a knife is in her hand as she backs towards me.


    I place my hand on her arm, gently turning her to face me. In her eyes, I see her confusion and fear at the surrounding slaughter added to by the sudden appearance of a mystery woman dressed in very strange clothes.


    ¡°Elara,¡± I begin, my voice softer than I expected. ¡°I need to tell you the truth¡ªabout me, about Misty, about what¡¯s happening.¡±


    I can see Elara¡¯s confusion and fear written all over her face. She doesn¡¯t speak, but I can sense her inner turmoil as she tries to make sense of everything happening around her.


    ¡°You¡¯ve noticed things, haven¡¯t you?¡± I say, breaking the silence. ¡°You talked the other night about things happening around me. You see how Misty and me, well, we don¡¯t quite fit in.¡±


    Elara¡¯s eyes dart to Misty, who remains stoic and unresponsive. ¡°I have,¡± she admits hesitantly. ¡°But I don¡¯t understand it all.¡±


    Menolly takes a bold step forward, her stance firm and resolute. ¡°It isn¡¯t,¡± she says bluntly, her words echoing in the silence around us. ¡°And the path before you now is not one you can tread lightly.¡± Her tone is serious, and I can see the weight of her words settling onto Elara¡¯s shoulders.


    Elara¡¯s eyes widen with uncertainty. ¡°What are you saying?¡± she asks, her voice trembling slightly.


    I shoot Menolly a sharp glare, silently pleading for her to be more tactful. But before I can intervene, she continues.


    ¡°You¡¯ve seen too much to remain an outsider,¡± Menolly says firmly, her gaze unwavering. ¡°You have a choice to make.¡±


    Elara looks between the two of us, clearly unsure of what to do. I take a deep breath and turn her back to look at me.


    ¡°I¡¯m asking you to join us,¡± I say earnestly. ¡°To awaken to something... bigger.¡± My words hang in the air, heavy with meaning that I cannot fully reveal yet.


    ¡°But there¡¯s also the option to walk away,¡± I add quickly, my tone growing softer but no less urgent. ¡°If you choose to stay, everything will change. But if not...¡± I trail off, my heart twisting at the thought of losing my friend and ally.


    Elara¡¯s voice is barely above a whisper as she asks, ¡°And if I walk away?¡±


    My throat tightens at her question, but I force myself to meet her gaze head-on. ¡°It will be as if we barely met,¡± I say quietly. ¡°You and Naomi will continue on to Hybern... and I will go my own way. For you, I will just be a passing figure who rescued you from a dangerous situation once a while ago.¡±


    She searches my face for a long moment before speaking again. ¡°What would you choose, Del?¡± she asks softly.


    I pause, considering her question carefully before answering with complete honesty.


    ¡°I¡¯d choose the truth,¡± I say firmly, meeting her gaze with determination.


    She takes a steadying breath, nodding. ¡°Then awaken me.¡±


    Menolly places her hand on Elara¡¯s forehead, and the air ripples with a strange energy. Elara¡¯s body tenses, her eyes glowing faintly as power floods into her.


    For a brief moment, she shudders, then collapses into my arms.


    ¡°She¡¯s yours now, Del,¡± Menolly says. ¡°Don¡¯t waste her trust.¡±

 Chapter 49 – Who is she?

    The sweat on Elara''s brow glistened in the sunlight as she surveyed the aftermath of the fierce battle. Four brigands lay scattered around the farmhouse, their bodies still and lifeless. It had been a close call, but Elara and Misty had come out victorious thanks to their surprise attack. The cat had snuck her way in, staying small and unobserved until in pounce range.


    As Elara let her first arrow fly, Misty transformed into her hellcat form mid-leap to take out her target in one swift, decisive bite to the back of the man¡¯s neck.


    Elara hit her target in the shoulder, causing the brigand to spin round. She was momentarily shocked to see the outlaw was a woman, but with a second arrow already on the way, that quickly became irrelevant as the shot took her target in the neck.


    Misty had her next victim on the ground, chewing out his throat while also ripping open his guts in a back claw rake, releasing a torrent of steaming intestines.


    Elara quickly dispatched the last one charging towards her with an arrow to his chest. The sound of his sword clattering to the ground echoed through the air as he fell.


    Breathing heavily after the intense fight, Elara took stock of the scene, doubting she would ever get used to the violence that seemed to have been following their every footstep ever since she met Del.


    ¡°Look around, Misty,¡± Elara called. ¡°Make sure we got all of them.¡± She watched the area for any signs of danger.


    Not long after, Del joined them at a run, looking worried as he scanned around.


    Misty padded up and rubbed against his legs, though Elara wasn¡¯t sure if it was in greeting or the cat trying to brush off some of the gore from her coat.


    Not that there was much point in that, as Del was pretty covered himself, although Elara was pleased to see it didn¡¯t look like any was his.


    ¡°Naomi,¡± Del says, his voice rough. ¡°I know where she is. Let¡¯s go get her.¡±


    Elara glanced at the farmhouse, but now that danger was over, they could manage for themselves. Naomi took precedence.


    Del led their way slightly away from the road and into the trees. Misty walked on ahead, and it wasn¡¯t long before Elara saw her stop, tail raised. The smell of woodsmoke drifted on the evening breeze as Del placed a hand on her arm.


    ¡°The camp is just ahead. It¡¯s a bit of a mess,¡± he told her.


    Elara, seeing the state of Del''s armour, wasn¡¯t too surprised to hear that. Even so, it didn¡¯t prepare her for the sight that greeted her as she reached the edge of the camp. Elara stopped dead in her tracks. The scene before her was like something out of a nightmare.


    It resembled an open-air slaughterhouse. Blood slicked the ground in glistening pools, catching the flickering firelight and making it shimmer like molten crimson. The air was thick with the coppery stench of death, sharp and suffocating, clawing at her throat with every breath.


    Her gaze swept the chaos: body parts strewn haphazardly, weapons lying abandoned where their owners had fallen, the remnants of a desperate and savage fight. Near the fire, a severed head sat grotesquely close to the flames, its blackened hair curling and smoking faintly.


    And then there was Misty. Elara blinked, her mind struggling to reconcile the sight of the cat¡ªcalm, unbothered¡ªbatting lazily at a severed leg caught in the branches of a low tree. The casual absurdity of it sent a cold shiver down her spine.


    Her eyes landed on a large, horribly battered body that, from the scout''s description, could only be what remained of Karth. The corpse was a mangled ruin, broken beyond recognition. A deep ache settled in Elara¡¯s chest at the senseless brutality of it. Whatever Karth had done in life, no one deserved this end.


    She looked at Del. He stood just ahead, still and silent. His armour was streaked with blood, his face unreadable in the dim light. In that moment, he seemed at home here, amidst the carnage and ruin, and Elara couldn¡¯t tell if the feeling that rose in her chest was awe, shock, or something colder¡ªsomething like fear.


    ¡°Del?¡± she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.


    He turned, meeting her gaze. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The crackle of the fire and the faint rustle of leaves filled the silence, stretching the tension taut between them.


    The world flickered, a split second, and someone¡ªa woman¡ªstood there calmly observing her.


    Elara gasped, her breath catching as her gaze darted between Del and the strange woman. The woman¡ªstill and composed like a figure carved from stone¡ªradiated a quiet but undeniable power. It was an aura Elara felt deep in her bones, and it unsettled her.


    Where did she come from?


    The thought churned as her hand moved instinctively to her knife. She didn¡¯t remember drawing it, but the weight of it in her palm grounded her, if only slightly. Her steps faltered as she backed towards Del.


    ¡°Who is she?¡± Her voice trembled despite her attempt to keep it steady. ¡°Del, what¡¯s going on? Where did she come from?¡±


    The woman didn¡¯t move, but Elara could feel her watching¡ªjudging. Misty sat nearby, her tail flicking with unnerving calm, as though all of this was perfectly normal. Elara¡¯s mind struggled to piece it together: the massacre, Del¡¯s strange composure, this woman¡¯s sudden appearance.


    A hand touched her arm. Del. He turned her to face him, and the moment her eyes met his, the knot of tension inside her tightened. His face was soft, almost sad.


    ¡°Elara,¡± he began, his voice calm but carrying weight. ¡°I need to tell you the truth¡ªabout me, about Misty, about what¡¯s happening.¡±


    The truth? That word sat heavy in her chest, twisting her thoughts into knots. She searched his face, desperate for answers to the unspoken questions swirling in her head. Her mind flashed back to all the moments¡ªsmall, strange moments¡ªthat hadn¡¯t quite added up: Misty¡¯s impossible intelligence, Del¡¯s quiet certainty in impossible situations, the way the world seemed to shift slightly around him.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°You¡¯ve noticed things, haven¡¯t you?¡± Del¡¯s voice broke through her thoughts.


    Elara swallowed, glancing at Misty. The cat, so still, so unnervingly present, stared back at her with those sharp, knowing eyes. ¡°I have,¡± she admitted, her voice hesitant. ¡°But I don¡¯t understand it all.¡±


    Before Del could respond, the woman moved¡ªjust a step¡ªbut it was enough. Elara felt her presence deepen, like a storm cloud blotting out the sun. The power surrounding her was almost tangible.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t,¡± the woman said suddenly, her voice cool and resonant, like the toll of a distant bell. ¡°And the path before you now is not one you can tread lightly.¡±


    The words hit Elara like a stone dropped into a still pond, sending ripples through her already frayed composure. What path? What is she talking about?


    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Her voice came out smaller than she intended, betraying the uncertainty she was trying so hard to hide.


    The woman¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver. ¡°You¡¯ve seen too much to remain an outsider,¡± she said firmly. ¡°You have a choice to make.¡±


    A choice? Elara¡¯s mind raced, stumbling over what that meant¡ªwhat it could possibly mean. Her eyes flicked between the woman and Del, searching for something¡ªan explanation, a denial¡ªanything to make sense of the chaos in her head.


    Del stepped in, drawing her attention back to him. He looked¡­ earnest. Pleading. ¡°I¡¯m asking you to join us,¡± he said softly. ¡°To awaken to something... bigger.¡±


    Awaken? The word hung in her mind like a heavy weight. The concept of it clawed at her, stirring something deep inside¡ªsomething she didn¡¯t understand.


    ¡°But there¡¯s also the option to walk away,¡± Del added quickly. His voice was gentler now, almost regretful. ¡°If you choose to stay, everything will change. But if not...¡± He trailed off, his eyes shadowed.


    Walk away? The idea sent a pang through her chest that she couldn¡¯t explain. Go back to what? Pretend none of this ever happened? Her mind recoiled from the thought, but the alternative¡ªthe unknown¡ªwas no less terrifying.


    ¡°And if I walk away?¡± The question escaped her lips before she even realised she was speaking.


    Del hesitated, his throat working before he answered, his voice low and raw. ¡°It will be as if we barely met.¡±


    The words stung more than she expected, sharp and final. Her thoughts turned to Naomi, to the brief moments of trust and camaraderie they had shared with Del and Misty. Would it all be gone¡ªjust wiped away? Would she simply continue on the road with just Naomi, as if none of this had ever happened?


    The camp around her felt smaller now, suffocating. Elara turned back to Del, desperate for something to cling to¡ªsome answer. ¡°What would you choose, Del?¡± she asked softly.


    He didn¡¯t hesitate this time. ¡°I¡¯d choose the truth.¡±


    There it was. Simple and solid, like a stone dropped into her hands.


    Elara closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply as she fought to steady herself. The truth. A choice. The unknown loomed before her like a yawning chasm, but Del¡¯s words stayed with her¡ªthe truth.


    She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze with as much resolve as she could summon. ¡°Then awaken me.¡±


    The woman simply placed a hand on Elara¡¯s forehead, and everything changed.


    The world returned slowly, like drifting up through layers of water. Her body felt heavy, her limbs unresponsive, yet her mind hummed with a strange clarity. It was as though she had been shattered and pieced back together, but the pieces didn¡¯t fit quite the same.


    Warmth. Steady arms held her.


    Elara¡¯s eyes flickered open, and the first thing she saw was Del. His face hovered above her, creased with concern.


    ¡°Elara?¡± he said softly.


    Her throat felt dry, the words slow to come. ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± she managed, her voice rasping faintly.


    As she stirred, Del¡¯s hands steadied her, guiding her to sit upright.


    The ground beneath her was solid, but she felt¡­ different. Alive in a way she couldn¡¯t explain, like every fibre of her being was awake for the first time. Her senses prickled. The campfire¡¯s embers whispered in the breeze, the faint thrum of life echoed in the earth, and the sharp scent of smoke mingled with the cool air.


    Del watched her carefully. ¡°Are you ok?¡±


    Elara closed her eyes, flashes of what she had seen pulsing in her mind. The endless expanse of light and shadow. The forest, vast and alive, spreading its roots into a thousand worlds.


    ¡°There was someone¡­ something,¡± she said slowly, piecing the words together. ¡°Teach. That¡¯s what they said you called them.¡± She glanced at Del, seeing his faint nod of recognition. ¡°They told me about the Overmind¡ªabout the multiverse.¡±


    Del¡¯s brow lifted, but he said nothing, letting her continue.


    ¡°It¡¯s like¡­¡± She hesitated, searching for words to describe the enormity of it. ¡°Our world¡ªTerras¡ªis just one thread in a tapestry that stretches forever. There are others like us, everywhere, all bound by this¡­ Overmind¡¯s system.¡± The words tasted strange on her tongue. ¡°We¡¯re monitored. Observed. The system watches, measures, and judges us¡ªlevels, skills, paths. It¡¯s how we survive¡­ or fail.¡±


    Her voice faltered, but Del¡¯s steady gaze anchored her. She looked down at her hands, flexing them experimentally. They felt the same, yet somehow more.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been awakened,¡± she said softly, the truth settling into place. ¡°They offered me a path. The ranger¡¯s path. It¡¯s rare, they said¡ªsomething that bridges what I already know. My archery, my magic¡­ but it¡¯s more than that.¡± She lifted her head, her eyes meeting Del¡¯s. ¡°It¡¯s a connection to everything. The natural world, mana, life itself.¡±


    She stopped, swallowing hard as the weight of it all threatened to overwhelm her. ¡°Teach said it was a gift. A responsibility.¡±


    Del¡¯s lips curved into a small smile, and though he said nothing, she could see the quiet pride in his eyes.


    ¡°And how do you feel?¡± he asked, his voice gentle but curious.


    Elara¡¯s breath steadied as she considered the question. How did she feel? The exhaustion tugged at her, but beneath it, there was something else. A hum of energy that seemed to flow through her veins, connecting her to the world around her.


    ¡°I feel alive.¡± She answered at last.


    Name: Elara Silvervale


    Level: 9


    Path: Ranger


    Health: 39


    Strength: 18


    Dexterity: 28


    Stamina: 23


    Intelligence: 22


    Wisdom: 10


    Mana: 99


    Spirit: 45


    Agility: 37


    Presence: 14


    Elven Traits:


    Enhanced Perception: Increased tracking and observation skills in woodland


    Dark Sight: Can see in dimly lit and dark environments


    Skills:


    Archery lvl 9 ¨C Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows


    Woodcraft lvl 5 ¨C Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can live for extended periods off the land


    Tracking lvl 4 ¨C Can follow tracks and trails


    Traps lvl 2 ¨C Can make basic snares and pit traps.


    Sneak lvl 5 ¨C Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.


    Herbalism lvl 6 ¨C Can identify and gather basic herbs.


    Alchemy lvl 2 ¨C Can make poultices and basic potions. (Requires recipes)


    Skinning lvl 8 ¨C Can skin a carcass and preserve the hide.


    Magic Spells:


    Growth lvl 3 ¨C Speed plant growth


    Control Plants lvl 4 ¨C Able to manipulate roots and vines within 30 feet


    Light lvl 4 ¨C Can create light from a small lasting glow that can be attached to objects or people, up to a sudden blinding flash. The brighter the effect the shorter the duration.


    Myrrith¡¯s Wrath lvl 2 ¨C Create a magical arrow that deals enhanced damage.; Damage is doubled against undead or evil creatures.


    Attacks:


    Bow lvl 10 ¨C Simple Shot.


    Dagger lvl 4 ¨C Stab, Slash.


    Special Attacks:


    Bow:


    Sneak attack lvl 6 ¨C Doubles damage


    Master Archer lvl 5 ¨C Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.

 Chapter 50 – Two meat-bags and a barker

    Elara seems to almost glow as I look at her.


    ¡®Well she certainly seems to be taking to this better than you did, Del.¡¯


    ¡®Be quiet, why do you always have to comment and butt in?¡¯


    Inwardly I sneer. ¡®Because you need someone to point out what a complete idiot you are.¡¯


    ¡®Bastard.¡¯


    Elara¡¯s eyes are fixed on mine. ¡°You live with this all the time?¡± she asks, awe tinging her voice. ¡°It¡¯s incredible. Teach told me so much, about how I can use this, how I can get stronger.¡±


    She stands up and stretches. Picks up a thick branch and snaps it easily, then runs. Laughing, she runs from the mayhem of the raiders¡¯ camp and leaps high, grasping a tree limb and swinging up effortlessly, performing a series of quick lithe movements. She has always been so much more agile than me, her natural grace making my clumsy stomping look barbaric in comparison. Now she is on another level. I walk out of the camp towards where she is testing her newfound strength and agility.


    ¡°When you finish playing,¡± I call to her, ¡°we still need to go get Naomi.¡±


    This has the immediate effect of sobering her up. Her laughter stops and she drops lightly back to the ground. She joins me, looking abashed.


    ¡°I got carried away. How on Terras could I have forgotten Naomi?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, you got a bit excited.¡± I smile as I see Misty padding towards us. ¡°When I first arrived, I started out no better than any other human here. My improvements came slowly, with effort. Before she left, Menolly told me that you were to be boosted based on your life experience so far, so you have received a sudden rush of new strength and ability.¡± Misty looks at Elara curiously as I finish speaking. ¡°It¡¯s bound to have gone to your head a bit.¡±


    ¡®I have found where the kitten is held,¡¯ Misty tells me, then, with a flick of her tail towards Elara, ¡®this one will outshine you if you don¡¯t work harder.¡¯ She rubs against her leg and gets a pet from the elf in return.


    Misty leads the way, a few hundred yards through the woods and quickly across a road.


    ¡®The kitten is in a small building close by,¡¯ she tells me. ¡®There are the last two meat-bags and a barker.¡¯ Her tone is dismissive; she has little respect for the abilities of the remaining gang members.


    Hidden in a thicket on the other side of the road, a rather run-down shack comes into view. Smoke curls lazily from a dying campfire nearby, casting flickering shadows on the rough wooden walls. We observe the scene from our hiding spot in the shadows of the trees. Two bandits are outside: one leaning on a spear by the door, the other crouched near the fire, tossing twigs into the embers. Between them lies the dog, looking like a cross between an Ashfang and a Doberman. I quickly identify it as an ashound, a hulking beast of muscle and menace, its dark fur gleaming like polished obsidian in the moonlight. Its sharp ears twitch as it sniffs the air, and the faint glow of its amber eyes cuts through the dimness.


    ¡®That¡¯s the last of them,¡¯ Misty purrs in my mind. ¡®Two fools and their overgrown mutt. This should be simple enough¡ªif you don¡¯t botch it.¡¯


    I glance at Elara, who is crouched beside me, her gaze locked on the scene. Her fingers curl around the grip of her bow. She looks ready¡ªperhaps too ready.


    ¡°You take the one by the fire. I¡¯ll handle the door guard. Misty¡ª¡±


    ¡®I¡¯ll deal with the ashound,¡¯ Misty interrupts, her tail flicking impatiently. ¡®It¡¯ll chase me easily enough. The rest is up to you.¡¯


    ¡°Alright,¡± I say as I take my bow from my shoulder. ¡°You left, me right?¡±


    Elara nods, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.


    Misty is the first to act. She steps into the open, her sleek form catching the ashound¡¯s attention instantly. The beast growls, its hackles rising as it lurches to its feet. With a low hiss, Misty darts back into the shadows, and the ashound bolts after her, snarling as its claws tear into the earth. The guards barely have time to react before Elara whispers. ¡°On three¡ªone¡­ two¡ª¡±


    ¡°Three I say.¡±


    Two arrows fly straight and true. Mine takes the guard by the door in the chest, Elara¡¯s, the other in the throat. Both collapse to the ground with muted thuds.


    The night falls silent again, save for the pained yelps that suddenly cut off as Misty deals with the dog.


    We quickly cross to the shack. Elara kicks her target from the embers before he catches fire. I motion for her to follow as I push open the door. The interior smells of sweat, damp wood, and decay. The first room is sparsely furnished¡ªa table littered with empty bottles, a straw mattress in the corner, and a few scattered crates. One corner of the room catches my eye: a small chest with intricate carvings, half-hidden under a pile of tattered blankets. But there¡¯s no time to investigate now. A secured door on the far side of the room draws our attention. It¡¯s locked with a heavy padlock and reinforced with a metal hasp.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°This must be it,¡± I say.


    Elara steps forward, gripping the lock. ¡°I can break it,¡± she says, her newfound strength evident in the way she tests its give.


    ¡°No need,¡± I stop her, pulling out a small pick from my belt. It takes a moment of focused work, but the lock pops open with a satisfying click. The door swings inward, revealing Naomi. She¡¯s slumped against a post, her hands tied and chains securing her to the wood. Her skin is pale, and her breathing is shallow. The air is thick with the acrid scent of listwort. They¡¯ve dosed her heavily.


    ¡°Elara, help me,¡± I move to Naomi¡¯s side. Together, we untie her and gently lower her to the ground. Her head lolls to one side, and a faint groan escapes her lips. She¡¯s alive but barely responsive.


    ¡®The barker is dealt with.¡¯ Misty¡¯s voice lazily drifts into my mind. I find a key hanging on the wall and use it to unlock the chains binding Naomi.


    ¡°She¡¯s out of it,¡± Elara murmurs, brushing the girl¡¯s hair back from her face. ¡°But she¡¯ll make it.¡±


    I lift Naomi into my arms, her weight a reminder of how fragile she is in this moment. ¡°We need to move.¡± I pass her over to Elara, as I pull the small chest in the other room from under its covers. ¡°Let¡¯s get her back to the farm and make her comfortable so she can sleep off the sedative.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that you have there?¡± Elara asks as we head back towards Joel¡¯s farm.


    ¡°Not sure.¡± I shake it and it rattles invitingly. ¡°But it was the only thing worth taking from there.¡±


    Elara glances at me, then down at the sleeping bundle she is carrying.


    ¡°Apart from Naomi obviously,¡± I quickly add.


    The smell of smoke greets us long before we reach Joel and Mara¡¯s farm. By the time we arrive, the barn is fully ablaze, the flames licking at the night sky. Joel stands near the house, his broad-shouldered frame silhouetted against the fiery glow. Mara hurries towards us, her apron flapping, eyes darting between me and Naomi cradled in Elara¡¯s arms.


    ¡°Is she¡­?¡± Mara¡¯s voice trembles with concern as she peers at Naomi.


    ¡°She¡¯s fine,¡± Elara assures her, shifting Naomi¡¯s weight to adjust her grip. ¡°Just needs rest.¡±


    Mara reaches out and guides Elara inside. ¡°Bring her in. The poor thing looks half-done in. I¡¯ll get a blanket and some tea brewing.¡± Her tone is brisk, but the tension in her shoulders betrays her worry.


    Joel¡¯s eyes meet mine. He nods once, his face a mask of grim resolve. ¡°We¡¯ve got work to do.¡± I glance at the yard. Bandit bodies lie sprawled in awkward heaps where they fell, and blood streaks the ground. The farm¡¯s familiar warmth feels tainted, overshadowed by the violence that unfolded here. I take a steadying breath.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get to it, then,¡± I say, setting down the chest near the porch and rolling up my sleeves.


    Joel grabs a rake from where it leans against the side of the house, his hands steady despite the chaos. Together, we move from one corpse to the next, dragging them toward the barn. The blaze there provides an unsettling solution¡ªthe fire will soon consume the bodies.


    ¡°This ain¡¯t the kind of thing a man wants to do on his land,¡± Joel mutters as we heave a particularly heavy corpse onto the growing pile. ¡°But I¡¯ll not have these scum fouling my fields come morning.¡±


    I nod, the weight of his words settling over me. ¡°They¡¯ve no place here. Let the fire take them.¡±


    The heat from the barn is intense, searing our faces as we work. Sweat drips down my back, and my muscles ache from the effort, but there¡¯s a grim satisfaction in each body removed from the yard. By the time we¡¯re done, the area near the house looks less like a battlefield and more like a farmstead again.


    ¡°That¡¯ll do,¡± Joel says, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. His gaze drifts toward the barn, its structure creaking as flames consume it. ¡°The barn was old anyway. Maybe it was time to replace it.¡±


    ¡°Hard way to get it,¡± I reply, but there¡¯s no bitterness in my tone. Just a shared understanding of what needs to be done.


    The sound of Mara¡¯s voice carries from the house. She¡¯s bustling about, issuing instructions to Elara in her no-nonsense way. The activity is oddly comforting. When Joel and I step inside, the comforting smells of tea and freshly baked bread fill the air. Elara has laid Naomi on a cot near the hearth, where the fire¡¯s warmth can chase away the lingering chill. Mara tucks a blanket around her and sets a steaming mug on the table nearby. Mara glances at us and wrinkles her nose.


    ¡°You two stink of sweat and¡­ well, worse. Wash up before you sit down.¡±


    Joel chuckles, his first real laugh of the night. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    We take turns at the pump outside, the cool water a welcome relief. By the time we return, Mara has set out a simple meal of bread, cheese, and cold cuts. It¡¯s not much, but it feels like a feast after everything we¡¯ve been through.


    ¡°How¡¯s Naomi?¡± I ask as I settle into a chair near the table.


    Elara looks up from where she¡¯s sitting, a steaming mug cradled in her hands. ¡°Sleeping soundly. The sedative will wear off by morning, and she¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Mara nods approvingly. ¡°Good. Poor lass needs all the rest she can get. And you,¡± she says, fixing me with a pointed look, ¡°you need to eat. You¡¯ve done enough for one night.¡±


    I don¡¯t argue. The food is simple but satisfying, each bite grounding me in the here and now. Joel joins us, his presence is solid and reassuring. The conversation turns to the repairs that will need to be done in the coming days¡ªpatching fences, clearing debris, and eventually rebuilding the barn.


    ¡°We¡¯ll help,¡± I offer, my words met with a grateful nod from Joel.


    The night wears on, the tension easing as exhaustion takes hold. Mara brings out a bottle of something strong, and we share a few quiet toasts to survival and the stubborn resilience of the farm. Elara slips away to check on Naomi, and Misty curls up near the hearth, her soft purring a gentle counterpoint to the crackle of the fire. Wren, who had appeared back at the farm an hour earlier, is asleep nearby.


    As the first hints of dawn lighten the horizon, Joel and Mara finally retreat to their room, leaving Elara and me to keep watch over Naomi. The house is quiet, the weight of the night¡¯s events settling over us like a heavy quilt.


    ¡°We did good tonight,¡± Elara says softly, her gaze fixed on the sleeping girl.


    I nod, my eyes heavy with sleep. ¡°Yeah. We did.¡±


    Outside, the barn¡¯s flames have died down, leaving only smouldering embers. The farm bears the scars of the battle, but it¡¯s still standing.


    ¡°We can help them here tomorrow to put a few bits back to rights,¡± I say. ¡°But we need to carry on to Hybern as soon as we can.¡±


    Elara nods and yawns and snuggles into my side on the couch.


    ¡°We have a lot to talk over as well,¡± she sleepily murmurs.


    We both are soon asleep. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

 Chapter 51 – Not bad for amateurs

    The days pass in a rhythm that feels almost normal. Joel and I spend hours side by side, cutting timber, hauling beams, and constructing the new barn frame. Sweat drips into my eyes as I hold one of the supports steady while Joel hammers a thick peg into place. Naomi¡¯s laughter rings out from the yard, where she races around with Finn and Wren, the terrier¡¯s barks blending with the occasional sound of hammering. The children¡¯s games spill over into our worksite, and more than once Joel shoos them away with a mock growl.


    ¡°Not bad for a bunch of amateurs,¡± Joel says, leaning on the hammer and wiping his brow. His tone is gruff, but there¡¯s a flicker of pride in his eyes as we step back to admire the skeleton of the barn taking shape.


    Elara¡¯s voice drifts from the porch, where she¡¯s helping Mara knead dough, the two women sharing quiet conversation as they work. Occasionally, Elara glances over at me, her eyes thoughtful, as if she¡¯s still coming to terms with her awakening. Later, I see her slip away to the shade of the old oak, settling cross-legged on the grass. She closes her eyes, her breathing steady as she meditates. The sight makes me pause, a beam balanced on my shoulder. There¡¯s something different about her now, a quiet strength that wasn¡¯t there before.


    ¡°She¡¯s¡­ changed,¡± Mara remarks one evening as we¡¯re packing up tools.


    ¡°Elara has always liked her quiet moments,¡± I tell her. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s an elf thing or her magic, but it does seem to be evolving.¡± Awakening will do that to you. Change is inevitable and a reason we need to move on, with it becoming more apparent in her with every passing day.


    By the morning of our departure, the farm buzzes with activity as final preparations are made. Joel and I secure the last beams of the barn frame, his hands steady despite the early hour. Mara fusses over a bundle of provisions, her sharp voice cutting through the crisp morning air as she directs Finn and Naomi to stay clear of the tools.


    Naomi clings to Finn, her face scrunched in determination as she promises to return. ¡°I¡¯ll write to you,¡± she says earnestly. ¡°As soon as I learn how.¡±


    Wren circles their feet, tail wagging furiously as if adding his own farewell.


    Mara tucks a scarf around Naomi¡¯s shoulders, her hands lingering as she cups the girl¡¯s face. ¡°Be good, lass. And remember, you¡¯ve got a place here. Always.¡± Her voice trembles, though she quickly covers it with a brisk wave to Elara.


    We set out as the sun rises higher, the farm slowly fading into the distance. For a moment, I glance back at the barn frame standing tall against the horizon. The work we¡¯ve done feels like a parting gift, a small piece of permanence in a world that¡¯s anything but steady.


    ¡®This place is stronger for having faced its demons,¡¯ Misty¡¯s voice drifts into my mind, her tone unusually contemplative. ¡®You should learn from that.¡¯


    ¡®Always with the wisdom,¡¯ I reply inwardly, though there¡¯s no bite in my tone. She¡¯s right¡ªabout the farm, about me.


    Ahead, the crossroads come into view, the path to Hybern stretching beyond. I adjust the pack on my shoulder, casting one last glance back at the farm before stepping forward.


    The road stretches ahead, bordered by wild hedgerows and rolling fields dotted with clusters of trees. The air is crisp, tinged with the earthy scent of damp soil and the faint sweetness of blooming wildflowers. Misty pads ahead, her tail swaying lazily, while Naomi skips along the roadside, her hands clutching a growing bundle of wildflowers she¡¯s picked along the way.


    ¡°What¡¯s this one called?¡± Naomi asks, holding up a delicate white blossom.


    Elara steps closer, her gaze softening as she examines the flower. ¡°That¡¯s moonlace. It only blooms at dawn and dusk. It¡¯s not medicinal, but it¡¯s said to bring good dreams if you keep it under your pillow.¡±


    Naomi¡¯s eyes widen. ¡°Can I keep it?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Elara replies with a gentle smile, tucking the flower into Naomi¡¯s bundle.


    As we walk, Elara points out plants I¡¯ve not yet encountered. ¡°That¡¯s bristlethorn,¡± she says, gesturing towards a spiny bush with small purple flowers. ¡°The roots can be boiled to create a bitter tea that helps with nausea, but avoid the thorns¡ªthey¡¯re laced with a mild toxin that causes itching.¡±


    I crouch to take a closer look, noting the fine barbs glinting in the sunlight.


    ¡°Nausea, huh? Might be useful.¡±


    Further along, she points to a low-growing plant with vibrant orange-red leaves. ¡°That¡¯s fireleaf. It¡¯s good for reducing fever, and the steam from its leaves can ease poisoned lungs.¡±


    ¡°We could¡¯ve used that earlier,¡± I say, recalling past injuries. Elara nods, her expression thoughtful.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Misty pauses ahead, her ears twitching. With a flick of her tail, she vanishes into the underbrush. Moments later, she reappears, a bird the size of a large chicken clutched delicately in her jaws. She drops it at the edge of the road and looks up at me, her expression inscrutable.


    ¡°A snack?¡± I ask, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡®Dinner,¡¯ Misty replies dryly in my mind. ¡®At least for someone who appreciates effort.¡¯


    Naomi giggles, but her laughter is cut short by the sound of rustling in the nearby bushes. Elara¡¯s hand instinctively moves to her quiver and she nocks an arrow. My hand grasps the hilt of my sword, scanning the treeline. The tension dissipates as a pair of wirrals flutter out of the foliage, their wide, golden eyes blinking in the sunlight before they take to the sky. Naomi watches them go, her face lit with wonder.


    ¡°Wise little creatures,¡± Elara murmurs, relaxing her stance. ¡°If they¡¯re nearby, it¡¯s a good sign. They don¡¯t stay where there¡¯s danger.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take any good signs we can get,¡± I say, lowering my bow. The road ahead winds through a stretch of forest, the canopy overhead casting dappled shadows on the path. The air grows cooler as evening approaches, carrying the faint scent of moss and pine.


    We stop by a small brook to rest and refill our water skins. Naomi splashes her hands in the clear water, giggling as the current tickles her fingers. Elara crouches nearby, her eyes scanning the surrounding flora. She plucks a sprig of a delicate-looking plant from a damp stone, holding it up for me to see.


    ¡°This one¡¯s new to me,¡± she admits. ¡°But I get a sense of magic within it.¡±


    I make a note of its narrow, almost translucent stems as she goes to tuck it into her pouch.


    ¡°This is where you can use some of your awakened abilities,¡± I explain. ¡°Look at it and think, identify.¡± Saying this, I do so myself.


    Identify.


    Glasswort: Mix petals into a poultice to reduce irritation from bites and stings. The stems can be used in a tea to relieve constipation.


    ¡®Hmm, useful,¡¯ I muse.


    Elara¡¯s eyes light up. ¡°I hadn¡¯t realised it could be used like that. Teach only gave me an example of assessing an enemy in combat.¡±


    ¡°That too,¡± I agree, ¡°and very useful for it, but basically you can use it on anything. The amount of detail you get can vary, and it seems particularly hard to use on magical things until it gets stronger.¡±


    As the light begins to fade, I figure this is as suitable a spot as any to set up camp. The clearing is just off the road, bordered by a thicket of bramble that offers some cover. The stream winds its way nearby, its gentle burble adding a soothing rhythm to the evening air.


    Misty deposits her catch¡ªa churrup¡ªon a flat stone with a sense of feline satisfaction. The churrup is a bit like a cross between a bush chicken and a grouse. Naomi claps her hands, clearly impressed, while Elara kneels to inspect the bird.


    ¡°It¡¯s plump,¡± Elara says, her tone approving. ¡°Plenty to go around.¡±


    ¡®I don¡¯t settle for less,¡¯ Misty comments smugly, padding over to a sun-warmed patch of grass and curling up with a contented sigh.


    I set about gathering kindling and dry wood from a nearby patch of trees, while Elara plucks and prepares the churrup with practised efficiency. Naomi assists with an eagerness that reminds me of her boundless energy. Soon, the fire crackles to life, its glow chasing away the deepening shadows.


    The aroma of roasting meat fills the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the forest. Naomi hums softly as she arranges the wildflowers she collected earlier, her bundle now a colourful, fragrant display.


    As we eat, the conversation drifts to lighter topics. Naomi chats animatedly about the wirrals we saw earlier, while Elara shares stories of similar creatures from her homeland. Misty listens with half-lidded eyes, occasionally interjecting with dry remarks only I can hear.


    While the embers die down, Elara offers to take the first watch. I stretch out near the fire, using my pack as a makeshift pillow. Naomi curls up under a blanket close by, her breaths soon evening out in sleep. Misty perches on a low branch overhead, her watchful gaze scanning the perimeter.


    The night passes without incident. Elara nudges me awake in the early hours, and after a brief conversation as I stoke the fire, she heads to the blankets while I take over on watch.


    When dawn breaks, the forest is quiet but for the trill of birdsong. The rising sun paints the horizon with streaks of pink and gold as we break camp, the clearing returning to its undisturbed state.


    It isn¡¯t long before Misty halts abruptly, her nose twitching. ¡®Smoke. A lot of it,¡¯ she remarks, her mental tone tinged with caution.


    I squint ahead, following the direction of her gaze. Sure enough, a thin plume of smoke rises on the horizon, barely visible against the morning light. Seeing my gaze, Elara¡¯s expression tightens as she adjusts her bowstring. Naomi, sensing the shift in mood, grows quiet, her steps smaller and more cautious.


    As we approach a fork in the road, the acrid scent of charred wood hangs heavy in the air. Rounding a bend, the scene before us comes into view.


    A wagon lies toppled on its side, its frame blackened and smouldering. The remains of its cargo¡ªscorched barrels and shattered crates¡ªlitter the ground. Nearby, several bodies, clad in what appear to be militia uniforms, lie sprawled in grotesque stillness. A thick smear of dried blood marks the dirt road where they fell. Crows flap lazily upwards from their impromptu feast as we approach, their cawing complaint echoing through the air.


    Elara moves to one of the bodies, her movements precise but respectful. ¡°These aren¡¯t bandits,¡± she murmurs. ¡°They¡¯re guards. Or were.¡±


    I scan the surroundings, my grip tightening on my sword hilt. ¡°No sign of whoever did this. If they took losses, they¡¯ve cleaned up after themselves.¡±


    Misty sniffs at the ground near the wagon, her ears flicking back. ¡®They didn¡¯t leave much behind,¡¯ she notes grimly. ¡®Whoever it was, they were organised.¡¯


    Naomi clings to my arm, her wide eyes fixed on the scene. ¡°Why would anyone do this?¡± she whispers.


    ¡°Loot,¡± I reply grimly, gesturing to the scattered remnants of the wagon¡¯s cargo. ¡°Or maybe worse.¡±


    Elara rises, her gaze hardening as she scans the treeline. ¡°We need to keep moving. Whoever did this could still be nearby.¡±


    Nodding, I usher Naomi away from the carnage, my thoughts already racing. The fork in the road stretches out ahead, one path leading to Hybern, the other veering off towards the unknown. The smoke from the wagon still lingers, a stark reminder of the danger lurking on these roads.

 Chapter 52 - Whats the plan?

    The fork sits tantalisingly before us, framed by the remnants of recent violence. The wagon¡¯s scorched shell looms like a skeletal sentinel, a grim reminder of whatever had attacked the group. We hastily cover the bodies of the guards with their own tattered cloaks, shielding Naomi¡¯s gaze from the sight but doing little to hide the metallic tang in the air¡ªa mix of blood and char. Misty¡¯s ears twitch, her amber eyes scanning the ground. She pads ahead, her tail flicking like a metronome of agitation.


    To the right, the road to Hybern lies well-trodden and clear, the safe, logical choice. But it¡¯s the other path¡ªa faint trail veering into the undergrowth, barely more than a whisper against the landscape¡ªthat gnaws at my attention. Tracks mar the dirt, subtle indentations visible only when Misty stops to sniff and glances back at me with a pointed flick of her whiskers.


    ¡®You see them, don¡¯t you?¡¯ Her voice filters into my mind, a mix of amusement and challenge. ¡®Not bad for you. Well, not entirely bad.¡¯


    ¡°I see them,¡± I murmur, crouching to examine the disturbed earth. At first, the tracks seem like little more than random scuffs, but as I trace the lines with my eyes, a pattern emerges. Deep impressions suggest boots, but others¡­ others look more like claws. A chill crawls up my spine. ¡°Not exactly encouraging.¡±


    ¡°What do you see?¡± Elara asks, stepping closer. Her tone is steady, but there¡¯s an undercurrent of tension in her words. She¡¯s scanning the treeline, her bow ready in her grip.


    ¡°Trouble,¡± I reply, straightening. ¡°Looks like a mix of tracks. Some human, maybe, but others¡­ I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    Naomi approaches cautiously, her wide eyes darting between the tracks and the burnt wagon. ¡°Should I scout ahead? I could¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Elara interrupts firmly. ¡°Not after what happened back at the farm. You¡¯ve pushed yourself enough for one week.¡±


    ¡°But I can help!¡± Naomi protests, her hands clenching into fists. ¡°I¡¯m not a baby¡ª¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± I interject gently, catching Naomi¡¯s gaze. ¡°You¡¯ve been through a lot. We need you at your best, not burning yourself out. We can handle this.¡±


    She exhales sharply, frustration etched across her face, but she steps back, conceding the point. Elara places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, offering a small, calming smile.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± Elara asks, turning her attention back to me. Her eyes are steady, waiting.


    I look between the paths, weighing the decision like so many choices before¡ªeach one fraught with the potential for disaster. The right path is the smart one¡ªthe safe one. Hybern is where we need to be, and every delay risks more danger. But those tracks¡­ they present a threat.


    ¡®This is getting to be a bit too much of a habit,¡¯ I chide myself.


    ¡®Stop whining, Del. It¡¯s a simple choice.¡¯


    I sigh at that thought, even though it¡¯s true enough.


    ¡®Why does it have to be us?¡¯ The thought surfaces unbidden, bitter and sharp. ¡°We could just keep going,¡± I say aloud, though I¡¯m not entirely sure who I¡¯m trying to convince.


    ¡®Cowardice or common sense?¡¯ My inner voice sneers, mocking me in the same way it has for years. ¡®Let someone else deal with it. To not be responsible?¡¯


    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple,¡± I mutter under my breath.


    ¡®Talking to yourself again?¡¯ Misty¡¯s voice carries a thread of teasing, but there¡¯s an edge of concern beneath it. ¡®Careful, Del. You¡¯re outnumbered in there.¡¯


    I smirk despite myself. ¡°Very funny.¡±


    Elara tilts her head. ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I reply, brushing off the moment. ¡°Just thinking.¡±


    ¡®Thinking or hiding?¡¯ my inner voice presses. ¡®You know why you¡¯re hesitating. It¡¯s because you¡¯re scared. Scared you¡¯ll get them hurt.¡¯


    I clench my fists, forcing the voice to quiet. This isn¡¯t about fear. It¡¯s about doing what¡¯s right. ¡°If we leave this, whoever did it might hit someone else. Joel¡¯s farm. Another traveller. Maybe even Hybern itself.¡±


    Elara nods slowly. ¡°But if we follow, we¡¯re walking into the unknown. We don¡¯t know their numbers, their strength, or their motives. Naomi¡¯s already vulnerable. Are we prepared to take that risk?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re never prepared,¡± I admit. ¡°But we can¡¯t just walk away.¡±


    ¡®He¡¯s finally making a decision,¡¯ Misty quips, her tail curling as she circles back to us. ¡®Yay, go you, Del.¡¯ A chuckle seems to escape in her purr.


    ¡°We¡¯ll move carefully,¡± I say, my voice firmer now. ¡°Misty, you¡¯ll scout ahead. Keep low, keep quiet. Elara, you¡¯ve got our backs. Naomi, stick close to Elara. If things go south, you run. No arguments.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Naomi hesitates but nods. Elara glances at me, a flicker of approval in her eyes, and steps forward. ¡°Then let¡¯s get moving.¡±


    The faint trail winds through the undergrowth, growing more oppressive with every step. The air is heavy here, thick with the scent of decay and damp earth. Misty leads, her movements fluid and silent, a ghost among the shadows. Every so often, she glances back, her golden eyes meeting mine as if gauging my resolve.


    The tracks grow clearer as we push deeper. Deep gouges in the soil suggest heavy loads dragged through, while occasional splashes of dark stains¡ªdried blood¡ªmark the attackers¡¯ path. My stomach churns, but I press on.


    ¡®Keep it together, watch that twig. Damn, Del. You are as clumsy as a damned elephant. No wonder Misty has a go at you so much.¡¯


    ¡®Shut the fuck up,¡¯ I snap at my inner critic.


    Elara glances at me but says nothing, her expression unreadable.


    I grip the hilt of my sword, feeling the cool metal steady my hand. ¡®Focus. One step at a time.¡¯


    The trail leads us to a clearing, where the trees part to reveal a crude campsite. Ashen remnants of a fire smoulder faintly, and scattered around it are scraps of food and broken weapons. The tracks converge here, fanning out in multiple directions.


    ¡®They were here recently,¡¯ Misty reports, her nose twitching as she sniffs the air. ¡®Not far. Maybe an hour, no more.¡¯


    Misty inspects the camp, her nose twitching as she sniffs at a blood-smeared blade, then recoils with a low growl. ¡®Not human. This blood is from the men at the wagon. But these¡ª¡¯ her amber eyes scan the camp¡¯s perimeter, her fur bristling. ¡®Not-goblins. Like them, but¡­ not.¡¯


    ¡°We¡¯re close,¡± I say, my voice low. ¡°Stay sharp. Misty tells me they are some sort of not-goblin,¡± I study the tracks, my brows furrowed. ¡°That¡¯s how she described whatever made this camp.¡±


    Naomi shifts nervously, her hands clenching the hem of her tunic. Elara places a steadying hand on her arm, offering silent reassurance. The air is taut with anticipation, every sound amplified¡ªthe rustle of leaves, the distant call of a bird, the crackle of dying embers.


    Misty suddenly freezes, her fur bristling. ¡®Something¡¯s watching us.¡¯


    I follow her gaze, scanning the treeline, but see nothing. The shadows seem to stretch and shift, playing tricks on my eyes. My grip tightens on the sword hilt, and I take a step forward.


    ¡°Del,¡± Elara warns softly, her bow glowing faintly in her hand. ¡°Careful.¡±


    The voice in my head whispers again, but this time, it¡¯s not taunting. It¡¯s a simple truth: ¡®Whatever comes next, you can¡¯t afford to falter.¡¯


    I exhale slowly, nodding to myself. ¡°All right,¡± I murmur. ¡°Let¡¯s see what¡¯s out there.¡±


    The moment stretches, taut as a bowstring. Then, the forest explodes into chaos.


    Shadows burst from the underbrush, yowling and snarling as they close in on us. Misty bolts ahead, her body shifting mid-leap, growing larger and more powerful. Her feline grace becomes something feral, deadly. I barely have time to react before something lunges from the side¡ªa mass of muscle and teeth. An ashfang. Its red-tinged eyes lock onto me, hunger burning in its gaze.


    I dodge instinctively, feeling the rush of air as its claws rake the space where my chest had been moments before. My sword blade slices upward as the creature spins back for another attack. The edge catches its shoulder, and it yelps, retreating just enough for me to slash forward, the edge slicing deeply into the creature¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Misty!¡± I shout, though I can barely see her. She¡¯s already tangled with another ashfang, her claws flashing like silver in the dim light. Blood sprays, and the beast howls, collapsing as she springs off its back and disappears into the undergrowth.


    ¡°Del, move!¡± Elara¡¯s voice rings out behind me, an arrow whistling past my ear and embedding itself into the chest of a shadowy figure lunging toward us. A sickening crunch accompanies its collapse. But there¡¯s no time to look back. Another ashfang crashes through the brush, snapping its jaws at my legs.


    I lurch sideways, stumbling over a root and barely managing to stay upright. ¡®Clumsy as ever,¡¯ I think bitterly, slashing at the creature¡¯s flank as it closes in. The blade bites deep, and it drops with a guttural final snarl as the air rushes from its eviscerated lungs.


    ¡®Faster, Del!¡¯ Misty¡¯s voice cuts into my mind, sharp and urgent. ¡®They can¡¯t get away or they may circle back to the others.¡¯


    I push forward, crashing through the undergrowth, uncaring of the noise as I hunt down the last of our attackers. Branches whip at my face and snag my clothing, but I don¡¯t stop. Misty¡¯s form flickers ahead of me, leading the way like a shadow given life.


    A quick glance around shows me that Elara and Naomi stayed behind, hopefully safer back at the camp than we are in this frenzy.


    Then I see them¡ªfigures darting between the trees. They¡¯re humanoid but wrong. Too hunched, too quick. Glimpses of green skin and jagged teeth flash in the dim light, and guttural snarls echo through the forest. Not-goblins, Misty called them. Whatever they are, they¡¯re closing in.


    One lunges from the side, brandishing a crude weapon¡ªa club studded with shards of bone. I barely parry in time, the impact jarring my arm to the elbow. It screeches, saliva flying from its maw, and swings again. This time I duck, kicking out at its knee. The thing crumples with a scream, as I finish it with a slash from my dagger. But another takes its place almost instantly, its yellow eyes gleaming with malice.


    I lash out wildly, my blade slicing into its side, and it falls back, shrieking. But the momentum carries me forward, stumbling after Misty, who¡¯s already ripping out the gut of another.


    ¡®Kill faster, Del!¡¯ she snaps, her voice tinged with both irritation and urgency.


    Another ashfang barrels out of the underbrush, snapping at my heels. I whirl, slamming the hilt of my sword into its skull. It reels, dazed, and I take the opportunity to pierce its throat, my lungs burning with the effort. The undergrowth tears at my legs, and my vision swims as I push harder, desperate to catch up to Misty.


    For the briefest moment, the surrounding trees are quiet. Breathing hard, we push on.


    Then the forest changes.


    The trees part into a clearing, and the air grows thick and heavy, almost suffocating. At first, I think the chase is over, that maybe we¡¯ve dealt with them. But then the ground shakes¡ªa rhythmic, thunderous vibration that sends a chill down my spine.


    ¡°Misty?¡± I call out, panting, but she¡¯s already crouched low, her fur bristling. Her eyes are fixed ahead, where the trees on the far side of the clearing tremble as something massive pushes through.


    It steps into the light, and my stomach drops.


    The creature towers above, nearly twice the size of a man. Its leathery grey skin ripples with unnatural strength, muscles taut as coiled rope. A grotesque snarl twists its features, tusks protruding from a heavy jaw that drips with spittle. Its eyes burn faintly yellow, sickly and malevolent. In one hand, it grips a jagged axe, its edge stained dark with dried blood. The other brandishes a crude wooden shield, its surface scored with deep gouges.


    The thing raises its head and roars, the sound shredding the stillness and carving terror into my bones.

 Chapter 53 – Focus Del

    The clearing falls deathly silent as the ogre steps into view, its sheer size blotting out the faint light filtering through the trees. Momentarily stunned at the sight, I shake my head and get a grip on myself.


    Identify


    Ogre Warrior


    Level: 15


    Highly aggressive, Territorial


    Strengths: Strength, surprise ambush


    Weaknesses: Lazy, greedy


    Attacks: Club, axe


    Skill: Darkvision


    Lore: Ogres are a lazy, brutish, avaricious race with notoriously quick tempers. Their avaricious nature, often lead them to distrust one another and incite squabbling over treasure. They prefer to attack from ambush, inflicting massive damage in the first strike.


    My heart pounds, a primal part of me screaming to turn and run. But there¡¯s no running now. Misty crouches low beside me, her hellcat form sleek and deadly, her amber eyes locked onto the hulking figure. Her tail lashes once, twice, and then she growls softly.


    ¡®Well, Del,¡¯ she says, her voice slipping into my mind with a mix of amusement and irritation, ¡®I hope you have a plan. Because if you don¡¯t, we¡¯re about to be smashed into cat food and... whatever you¡¯re made of.¡¯


    ¡°Working on it,¡± I mutter, gripping the hilt of my sword tighter. My palms are damp, and the weapon feels too light, too fragile against something that size. ¡°You¡¯re the one with claws and speed. You got any bright ideas?¡±


    Misty¡¯s ears twitch. ¡®Don¡¯t die?¡¯


    The ogre roars, cutting off any further banter. It hefts its jagged axe with both hands, the weapon¡¯s crude iron head gleaming dully in the dim light. The ground trembles under its heavy steps as it closes the distance, the smell of sweat and decay rolling off it in waves.


    ¡°Here we go,¡± I say through gritted teeth, stepping to the side as the first swing comes down. The axe whistles through the air, slamming into the earth with enough force to send a shockwave through the clearing. Dirt and splinters spray up, and I barely manage to keep my footing.


    Misty moves like lightning, darting forward and slashing at the ogre¡¯s leg. Her claws rake across its leathery skin, leaving faint lines but no blood. The creature growls, swiping at her with its shield. She leaps back, avoiding the crude attack with inches to spare.


    ¡®Tough bastard,¡¯ she hisses, circling the ogre. ¡®That hide¡¯s thicker than a goblin¡¯s skull.¡¯


    ¡°Great,¡± I mutter, darting in to slash at its exposed side. My blade bites into the flesh, but not deep enough. The ogre grunts, barely noticing the wound, and swings its axe in a wide arc. I throw myself backwards, landing hard on the ground as the blade whooshes past.


    ¡®Focus, Del!¡¯ Misty snaps, her tone sharp. ¡®Unless you want to be split in half!¡¯


    I scramble to my feet, adrenaline flooding my veins.


    ¡°I have never been more focused in my fucking life!¡± I yell back.


    The ogre¡¯s eyes lock onto me, glowing faintly with a sickly yellow light. It grins, revealing broken, jagged teeth, and steps forward, raising its axe high. The ground shakes with each step, the oppressive weight of its presence pressing down on me.


    ¡°Come on, you big bastard,¡± I say, raising my sword. My voice wavers, betraying the fear knotting in my gut. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡±


    The axe comes down again, and I sidestep, slashing at its wrist as it passes. This time, the blade draws blood¡ªblack and oozing like tar. The ogre roars, more in anger than pain, and swings its shield at me. I try to dodge, but the edge clips my shoulder, sending me sprawling.


    ¡®Del!¡¯ Misty¡¯s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears. She lunges at the ogre, her claws flashing as she aims for its face. The creature raises an arm to block, and she sinks her teeth into its forearm. It howls, shaking her off, but not before she tears a chunk of flesh free.


    ¡®Get up,¡¯ I tell myself, pushing to my feet. My shoulder throbs, but I can still move it. ¡®You¡¯ve taken worse. Focus you dumb shit.¡¯


    The ogre¡¯s attention shifts back to Misty, its yellow eyes narrowing as it swings its axe low. She leaps over the blade, landing gracefully on its shoulder. Her claws dig in, and she rakes them down its back, leaving deeper gashes this time. The ogre roars, spinning in circles as it tries to shake her off.


    ¡°Hold on!¡± I shout, charging forward. My sword plunges into the ogre¡¯s side, sinking halfway to the hilt. The creature staggers, swinging its shield blindly. I duck under the blow, yanking my blade free as I retreat. Black blood spills onto the ground, steaming as it hits the dirt.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡®That¡¯s more like it,¡¯ Misty says, leaping clear as the ogre slams its back into a tree. The trunk cracks under the force, but she¡¯s already gone, circling back to my side. ¡®You¡¯re not completely useless, Del.¡¯


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I say, panting. ¡°I think.¡±


    The ogre roars again, its breath coming in ragged bursts. Its eyes burn brighter, and it grips its axe tighter, raising it for another strike. But as it steps forward, its foot catches on a root, and it stumbles. For a moment, it¡¯s off balance.


    ¡®Now!¡¯ Misty¡¯s words yell loudly in my head, as she darts in. She slashes at its leg, aiming for the joint, while I rush to its side. My sword finds the wound I made earlier, driving deeper this time. The ogre bellows, swinging its shield in a wide arc. Misty and I both leap back, avoiding the blow by inches.


    The creature¡¯s rage is palpable now, a physical force that makes the air feel thick and heavy. It throws its shield to the ground with a thunderous crash, gripping its axe with both hands. The blade gleams, even in the dim light, promising death with every swing.


    ¡®Here comes the fun part,¡¯ Misty says dryly, her tail flicking. ¡®Any more brilliant ideas?¡¯


    ¡°Keep hitting it until it stops moving,¡± I reply, tightening my grip on my sword. ¡°And try not to die.¡±


    The ogre lunges, faster than I expect for something its size. I barely manage to dodge, the axe carving a deep furrow into the ground where I¡¯d stood a moment ago. Misty darts in from the side, her claws raking across its arm. It swings at her, missing by a hair as she ducks under its reach.


    I take the opportunity to strike again, aiming for the back of its knee. My blade cuts through tendons and muscle, and the ogre drops to one knee with a roar. But even kneeling, it¡¯s still a towering figure, its axe swinging wildly as it tries to ward us off.


    ¡°It¡¯s weakening,¡± Misty says, her voice tinged with urgency. ¡°Keep going!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, no pressure,¡± I mutter, darting in for another strike. The ogre¡¯s movements are slower now, but no less dangerous. Each swing of its axe sends tremors through the ground, and the air hums with the force of its strikes.


    As I slash at its arm, it roars again, releasing the axe and swinging its massive fist at me. I throw myself to the side, landing hard but avoiding the blow. The axe falls to the ground with a heavy thud, and the ogre snarls, reaching for a nearby tree. With a sickening crack, it rips a branch free, wielding it like a club.


    ¡°Oh, great,¡± I say, pushing myself up. ¡°Because that¡¯s exactly what we needed.¡±


    ¡®Less talking, more fighting,¡¯ Misty snaps, her claws flashing as she lunges for the ogre again.


    The fight isn¡¯t over yet, but we¡¯ve got it on the ropes. Now we just have to survive long enough to finish it.


    The ogre staggers to its feet, slower now, its injured leg dragging as it moves. Black blood seeps from gashes along its side, but its determination remains unshaken. The branch it wields swings down in a wide arc, forcing me to dive to the side. The impact splinters the ground where I stood, sending shards of earth and wood flying.


    ''Del, watch yourself!'' Misty¡¯s warning comes too late. The branch clips her mid-leap, hurling her across the clearing. She crashes into a tree with a sickening thud, sliding to the ground in a motionless heap. My stomach tightens as I see her prone form, her once-bright eyes dim.


    ¡°Misty!¡± I shout, panic flooding my voice. The ogre roars, turning its attention back to me. Its grip on the branch tightens, and it takes another step forward, its gait unsteady but menacing.


    ''Focus, Del,'' my inner voice snarls. ''She¡¯s tough. You need to buy her time.''


    Gritting my teeth, I charge the ogre, my sword a blur as I aim for its wounded leg. The blade bites deep, and the creature bellows in pain, dropping to one knee again. I dart back, avoiding its retaliatory swing, and circle to its side.


    The sound of movement behind me sets my nerves on edge. I whirl just in time to see one of the smaller figures from earlier, creeping toward me with a jagged blade raised. Before I can react, Misty reappears, her form a streak of black and gold as she pounces on the creature. Her claws sink into its neck, and with a feral snarl, she ends its threat.


    ''Don¡¯t think I¡¯m done yet,'' she growls, limping slightly but still fierce. ''Keep your head in the fight.''


    The ogre roars again, its voice shaking the very air. Before it can rise fully, a volley of arrows whistles through the clearing, embedding themselves in its chest and shoulders. The creature howls, swinging its branch wildly as it tries to locate the source of the attack.


    ¡°Del!¡± Elara¡¯s voice calls from the treeline. She steps into view, her bow already nocked with another arrow. Beside her, Naomi crouches low, her wide eyes fixed on the battle. ¡°We¡¯ve got this!¡±


    With renewed determination, I surge forward. Elara¡¯s arrows pepper the ogre, each shot driving it further back. Misty circles to its blind side, her movements calculated despite her injuries. Together, we press the attack, wearing it down bit by bit.


    The ogre¡¯s roars grow weaker, its movements sluggish as blood pours from its wounds. Finally, with a well-placed strike, my blade pierces its chest, sinking deep into its heart. The creature shudders, its massive frame swaying before it collapses to the ground with a final, earth-shaking thud.


    Silence falls over the clearing, broken only by the sound of laboured breathing. Misty limps to my side, her fur matted with blood but her eyes sharp. Elara lowers her bow, her hands trembling slightly as she surveys the scene.


    Naomi creeps closer, her gaze darting nervously between us and the fallen ogre. ¡°Is... is it over?¡± she whispers.


    I nod, wiping the sweat from my brow. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s over.¡±


    With a grimace, my body feeling suddenly drained and full of too many pains to count, I sit and gather my thoughts.


    [Congratulations you have killed 8 ashfangs; experience gained]


    [Congratulations you have killed 6 hob beastmasters; experience gained]


    [Congratulations you have killed ogre warrior; experience gained]


    [Congratulations you have advanced your  Primary Cuvat; Points added]


    [Congratulations you have gained enough experience to level up; would you like to level up now?]

 Chapter 54 – Exploring can wait

    Misty sits beside me and starts the arduous process of cleaning the blood and gore from her fur. Her paw drags down her face in deliberate strokes, and I can¡¯t help but wince in sympathy.


    ¡®This was a tough hunt,¡¯ she comments in a dry voice, the faint edge of complaint making me smirk.


    ¡°You have that right, girl,¡± I say, reaching out to scratch between her ears. Her tail twitches, but I know she¡¯s too tired to pretend she doesn¡¯t enjoy it. My own shoulder aches fiercely as I shift position, rotating it gently to test the damage. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll both have our share of bruises to get over after that.¡±


    Naomi bends down beside Misty, her small hands gentle as she fusses over the cat. ¡°You were so brave,¡± she murmurs, her voice soft and full of admiration. Misty¡¯s ear flicks, but she doesn¡¯t protest the attention¡ªa rare moment of indulgence.


    Elara¡¯s voice carries over from behind me, firm but tinged with unease. ¡°Creatures like this shouldn¡¯t be this close to the town. Normally, they¡¯d only be found deeper in the wildlands.¡± She steps closer, her gaze fixed on the ogre¡¯s hulking corpse. The jagged axe still lies where it fell, its edge slick with blackened blood.


    I grunt in agreement, levering myself to my feet with a wince. ¡°So what¡¯s your guess? Did they get lost, or is something driving them this way?¡±


    Elara frowns, her brow furrowing as she looks down at the ashfang closest to her. Its spiked hide gleams faintly in the fading light, the deep gouges in its side oozing a viscous, dark fluid. She crouches, her hand hovering above its shoulder as if reluctant to touch it. ¡°These ashfangs were under control,¡± she says after a moment, her tone thoughtful. ¡°The beastmasters must have been directing them. They¡¯re like hunting wolves when trained, but this¡­¡± She trails off, shaking her head.


    ¡°Beastmasters?¡± I echo, frowning. The term is new to me.


    Elara nods, standing and brushing her hands off. ¡°Among the elves, we have beastmasters who work with birds of prey or great cats. But these hobs¡­ their methods are cruder, more brutal. Still, it¡¯s effective enough.¡± Her gaze shifts to the jagged wounds on the ashfang. ¡°They were driven to attack. This wasn¡¯t natural.¡±


    Misty stops mid-cleaning to add her two pence, flicking her tail with a hint of irritation. ¡®I¡¯d wager it wasn¡¯t a coincidence. Things like this don¡¯t just happen.¡¯ She fixes me with a pointed look, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. As if I had anything to do with it.


    Naomi pipes up hesitantly, her hands twisting together. ¡°Why would they come here? Is something chasing them?¡±


    The question lands heavily, and I exchange a glance with Elara. She doesn¡¯t dismiss it outright, which is worrying enough.


    ¡°Could be,¡± I admit finally. ¡°But we can¡¯t jump to conclusions yet. Let¡¯s see if the bodies tell us anything useful first.¡±


    The air grows heavier as we begin the grim task of examining the remains. Elara focuses on the ogre, her hands tracing faint markings on its leathery skin. ¡°These¡­ they¡¯re not natural,¡± she murmurs. ¡°Runes, maybe. Or something older.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± I mutter. ¡°Runes on a giant murder machine. Just what we needed.¡±


    Misty pads over, sniffing at the ashfangs with cautious disdain. ¡®These smell¡­ wrong. More than usual. Like something else got to them first.¡¯ She pauses, then sneezes violently, retreating with a disgusted huff.


    Elara straightens, her face pale but determined. ¡°Whatever it is, it¡¯s not random. We need to keep moving and report this when we reach Hybern.¡±


    ¡°Agreed,¡± I say, glancing at Naomi, who¡¯s hovering close to Misty. Her wide eyes meet mine, and I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. ¡°Let¡¯s get going.¡±


    With that, we gather our things and set off. As we leave, I glance back at the cairn, the pile of stones glinting faintly in the fading light. A weight settles in my chest¡ªgrief mixed with the grim satisfaction of having done what we could. Turning forward, I adjust my pack and fall into step with the others. The oppressive silence of the clearing gives way to the crunch of boots and paws on the dirt road. The journey ahead feels heavier now, the unease from the battle lingering like a shadow over us all.


    Returning to the fork in the road feels both familiar and grim. The wagon sits just as we left it, its charred frame leaning precariously into the ditch. The bodies of the fallen remain cloaked where we left them, their forms still and haunting against the darkened backdrop of scorched earth and ash.


    I pause, taking in the sight. It¡¯s quieter now, the oppressive sense of pursuit finally gone. Misty pads ahead, her movements cautious, sniffing the air with sharp deliberation.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Elara steps up beside me, her gaze lingering on the wagon. ¡°We should finish this,¡± she says quietly. ¡°They deserve more than this place.¡±


    I nod, rolling my shoulder to ease the ache before pulling the spade from my pack. ¡°Naomi,¡± I call gently. ¡°Can you gather some stones from the treeline? We¡¯ll need them for a cairn.¡±


    Naomi hesitates, her eyes flitting to the cloaked forms. I can see the reluctance in her small frame, but Misty pads over to her, rubbing against her leg and then trotting towards the treeline. Naomi follows hesitantly, gathering stones under Misty¡¯s watchful guidance.


    Elara kneels by the nearest body, her hands deft but respectful as she checks for anything identifying. "No crests," she mutters, frowning. "The armour is well-made, but I can¡¯t tell where it¡¯s from." She glances at the wagon, then shakes her head. "This wasn¡¯t banditry¡ªthe hobs must have attacked, but why they¡¯d target this group is a mystery."


    ¡°Maybe just a case of bad timing?¡± I question with a grunt, as I put effort into my task. ¡°This could all have been just bloody bad luck.¡±


    I focus on digging, the spade biting into the hard-packed soil. It¡¯s slow work, but the rhythm steadies me, grounding me in the task. Each shovelful feels like lifting a weight off my chest, even as the pit deepens.


    Misty circles the wagon, her tail flicking in agitation. ¡®No sign of scavengers yet,¡¯ she reports, sniffing the air. ¡®But it won¡¯t stay that way for long.¡¯


    Naomi returns, her arms full of stones, and sets them down carefully beside the growing pile. ¡°Good job,¡± I tell her, offering a small smile. She doesn¡¯t smile back, but she nods, her focus on the task as she starts arranging the stones with Misty¡¯s quiet guidance.


    Elara moves to the wagon next, her hands skimming over the scorched wood. "The fire might have started during the attack¡ªmaybe they tried to use torches to fend off the ashfangs. It¡¯s hard to tell." Her tone carries frustration as she examines the damage. "There¡¯s just no rational reason for the attack.¡±


    I grimace, the puzzle sitting heavy in my gut. ¡°Let¡¯s get this done,¡± I say, my voice gruffer than I intend. ¡°The sooner we¡¯re away from this place, the better.¡±


    Together, we lift the bodies into the grave, working in silence but with care. When the last one is laid to rest, Naomi steps forward with a handful of wildflowers she must have picked along the way. She places them atop the bodies before I fill the hole and we begin piling the stones into place, forming a cairn that will stand against scavengers and time.


    When the work is done, I step back, wiping the sweat from my brow and planting the spade into the earth. ¡°Elara?¡±


    She raises her hands, her voice lifting in a soft, melodic prayer. The elven words carry on the breeze, filling the clearing with a moment of peace amidst the chaos.


    Misty sits beside Naomi, her tail curling around her paws. ¡®They¡¯ll rest easier now,¡¯ she says quietly. ¡®And so will we.¡¯


    I nod, my eyes lingering on the cairn. ¡°Let¡¯s move. Hybern¡¯s waiting, and this road isn¡¯t getting any safer.¡±


    The sun sinks below the horizon as we trudge onward, the faint glow of twilight giving way to the soft embrace of night. The air grows cooler, carrying the scent of damp earth and far-off woodsmoke. Shadows stretch long and uneven across the road, their shapes dancing with the flicker of fireflies.


    Naomi clings to my back, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck as I carry her piggyback. She¡¯s been fighting sleep, but the rhythmic jostle of my steps has finally lulled her into a light doze. Misty pads beside us, her eyes sharp even in the dim light, while Elara walks a few paces ahead, her bow slung over her shoulder, her sharp eyes scanning the road ahead.


    ¡°This road feels different at night,¡± I say quietly, more to myself than anyone else. ¡°Like it¡¯s holding its breath.¡±


    Elara glances back, her features softened by the glow. ¡°The world always feels heavier after blood is spilled,¡± she replies. ¡°But the town isn¡¯t far now. We¡¯ll be safe soon.¡±


    I grunt in agreement, though my eyes scan the edges of the road for movement. The night has a way of playing tricks, and I don¡¯t trust it not to throw another surprise our way.


    As we crest a small rise, the faint outline of Hybern¡¯s walls comes into view. Torches line the battlements, their flickering light promising safety but also the challenge of convincing the guards to let us in after dark.


    When we reach the gates, Misty lets out a soft growl, her ears flicking back. ¡°Quiet,¡± I murmur, shifting Naomi¡¯s weight on my back. Elara steps forward, drawing her dagger to rap its hilt against the heavy wood of the gate.


    ¡°Who goes there?¡± a voice calls from above, sharp and suspicious.


    ¡°Travellers,¡± Elara replies, her voice calm but firm. ¡°We¡¯ve been on the road too long and need shelter for the night. We mean no harm.¡±


    The guard leans forward, his torch casting long shadows across his face. ¡°It¡¯s late. The gates are closed until dawn.¡±


    Elara lifts her chin, her voice steady and commanding. ¡°We would have arrived earlier, but we found a burned-out wagon on the road.¡± Her voice is tired. ¡°We were delayed laying the dead to rest. Now, do you really mean to leave a child out here in the dark with what¡¯s roaming these roads?¡±


    The guard hesitates, his eyes flicking to Naomi, still clinging to me. ¡°A child, you say?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s exhausted,¡± I add, my voice low but carrying. ¡°We all are. Please.¡±


    Muffled voices drift from above, the guards clearly debating the matter. One voice rises sharply, met by a curt reply, and then silence. The moments stretch, tension pulling tight. Finally, the heavy creak of the gate begins, and the iron hinges groan in protest.


    ¡°Be quick about it,¡± the guard calls down. ¡°And don¡¯t bring any trouble inside.¡±


    Elara nods in thanks, and we slip through the opening just wide enough to admit us. The gates slam shut behind us, sealing the night away.


    ¡°You will need to report to the watch captain in the morning,¡± the burly guard tells us. ¡°He will want details of this attack you spoke of.¡±


    Giving a simple nod, we walk from the gate. The warmth of Hybern¡¯s streets wraps around us like a blanket, and for the first time in hours, I feel my shoulders begin to relax.


    ¡°Let¡¯s find somewhere to rest,¡± I murmur, shifting Naomi¡¯s weight again. Exploring can wait for tomorrow.

 Chapter 55 – The Sleepy Crescent

    We wind our way through the narrow streets, the cobblestones worn smooth by countless footsteps. The buildings lean in close, their upper storeys nearly touching, creating a sense of cosy intimacy. Warm light spills from windows, the soft murmur of conversations and the clatter of dishes drifting out to mingle with the night air.


    A sign creaks in the breeze ahead, the weathered wood depicting a crescent moon cradling a mug of ale. "The Sleepy Crescent," Elara reads, a smile touching her lips. "Seems like as good a place as any."


    I nod, shifting Naomi''s weight once more as we approach the door. The rich scent of roasting meat and fresh bread wafts out to greet us, and my stomach grumbles in anticipation.


    Inside, the inn is warm and welcoming, with a large hearth crackling merrily against one wall. Rough-hewn tables are scattered throughout the room, occupied by a handful of patrons nursing mugs of ale and talking in low voices. A staircase in the back corner leads up to what I assume are the guest rooms.


    As we step inside, the innkeeper, a stout man with a bushy beard and a perpetual smile, looks up from polishing a mug. "Welcome to The Sleepy Crescent," he says with a hearty nod. His voice carries a melodic cadence. "Rooms are upstairs if you need ''em, and the stew''s hot if you''re hungry."


    Misty brushes against my leg, then jumps up onto a table, her tail flicking against my arm. ¡®Hot stew? What about something a little less... boiled to death?¡¯ she quips. I suppress a grin as I glance at Elara, who is already taking in the room with an approving nod.


    "We¡¯ll take both," I say, my voice tinged with weariness. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    As we settle in, the warmth of the hearth seeps into my bones. Naomi sits heavily, her shoulders drooping as she leans into the backrest of her chair. She¡¯s clearly worn out from her efforts at the wagon, though her bright eyes still flick around the room, taking in every detail. Misty looks about in her usual judgemental manner, her nose twitching as she inspects a wooden bowl left behind by the last patrons.


    "Subtle," I mutter under my breath. Misty ignores me, too engrossed in her self-appointed task.


    Around us, the hum of conversation ebbs and flows. A pair of merchants argue softly over a map, their tones tinged with both camaraderie and competition. A bard in the corner plucks at a lute, the melody gentle but slightly out of tune. It¡¯s a scene that feels familiar yet distant, like a memory I can¡¯t quite place.


    The innkeeper brings over steaming bowls of stew and thick slices of crusty bread, the rich aroma making my stomach clench in hunger. Naomi barely waits for hers to be placed on the table before digging in, her weariness no match for her appetite. I catch a glance from Elara, who smiles faintly at the sight.


    Misty, now perched on the bench beside me, eyes the bowl with a mix of suspicion and disdain. ¡®I suppose this is acceptable¡ªfor humans,¡¯ she remarks, flicking her tail as though to punctuate her point.


    ¡®It doesn¡¯t stop you diving in though cat.¡¯ I quip back at her. I get a look only an experienced feline can deliver before she resumes her foray into the bowl.


    I push the bread closer to Naomi and focus on my own meal, the warmth of the food spreading through me like a balm.


    Once we¡¯ve eaten, the innkeeper reappears, his smile never faltering. "Room¡¯s ready when you are," he says, setting a heavy iron key on the table. "It¡¯s the second on the left at the top of the stairs. There¡¯s a cot, if the little one needs it, and extra blankets if the night turns cold."


    "Thank you," Elara replies, her tone soft but sincere. I nod in agreement, sliding the key into my pocket as we rise. Naomi stifles a yawn, her steps dragging slightly as we make our way upstairs.


    The room is small but tidy, the wooden floor creaking softly underfoot. A single oil lamp casts a warm glow, highlighting the simple furnishings: a sturdy bed with a thick quilt, a small cot tucked into the corner, and a modest chest against the wall. A narrow window lets in the faintest whisper of night air, cool and refreshing after the warmth of the common room.


    I help Naomi settle onto the cot, pulling the blanket over her shoulders as her eyes flutter closed almost instantly. Her breathing evens out, and for a moment, I watch her, the lines of tension finally smoothed from her face.


    Misty jumps up near her feet and, after circling for a moment to set her place, lies down alongside her.


    Elara moves quietly around the room, her movements graceful even in exhaustion. She removes her boots and sets them neatly beside the chest, undressing as she turns to me. "She¡¯ll sleep well tonight," she murmurs, glancing at Naomi.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "I hope so," I reply, unbuckling my belt and setting it beside the cot. "She¡¯s earned the rest."


    Elara nods, her gaze lingering on Naomi for a moment longer before she climbs into the bed. I quickly follow, the mattress dipping under my weight as I stretch out beside her. The quilt is heavy and comforting, the faint scent of lavender clinging to it.


    For a while, we lie in silence, the faint creak of the inn settling around us. Outside, the low hum of Hybern¡¯s night life filters through the window, distant and unobtrusive.


    "Quiet here," Elara says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.


    "Peaceful," I agree, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. The flicker of the oil lamp casts shadows that dance and stretch across the wooden beams above.


    Elara shifts, her arm brushing mine as she settles deeper into the quilt. "We¡¯ll need to resupply tomorrow," she adds. "And maybe figure out our next steps."


    I hum in agreement, too tired to think far ahead. The warmth of the room and the steady rhythm of Elara¡¯s breathing pull me closer to sleep. Misty¡¯s soft ¡°Goodnight, Del¡± drifts through my mind like a fading echo as the darkness takes me.


    Morning sunlight filters through the narrow window, painting the wooden floor in soft streaks of gold. The muffled sounds of life stir beyond the glass¡ªfootsteps on cobblestones, the faint clatter of a cart, and the rhythmic creak of a sign swinging in the breeze.


    I stretch, the quilt heavy and warm over me, and glance to the side. Elara sits on the edge of the bed, her tunic draped across her lap as she braids her hair with practised ease. The sunlight catches on her skin, highlighting the soft curve of her breast. It¡¯s an alluring sight, one I¡¯ve become accustomed to over time, though it never fails to stir something in me.


    As if sensing my gaze, she glances over her shoulder, a faint smile tugging at her lips. ¡°Sleep well?¡± she asks, her tone light but teasing.


    ¡°Well enough,¡± I reply, keeping my voice casual. Naomi stirs on the cot, her small hands clutching the blanket as she blinks sleepily. Elara finishes tying off her braid, slipping into her tunic in a single fluid motion as Naomi sits up and rubs her eyes.


    ¡°Is it morning already?¡± Naomi murmurs, her voice groggy.


    ¡°Afraid so,¡± I reply with a faint smile. ¡°Time to get up.¡±


    Elara laces her boots. ¡°We¡¯ll eat first,¡± she says. ¡°Then we need to find the captain of the watch and report what happened with that wagon.¡±


    By the time we¡¯re dressed and downstairs, the common room has filled with the scent of fresh bread and frying bacon. The innkeeper greets us with a cheerful nod and sets steaming plates on the table as we sit. Naomi¡¯s eyes light up at the sight of the food, and she wastes no time digging in. Misty hops onto the bench beside me, her nose twitching as she eyes the bacon.


    ''If you don¡¯t share, I¡¯ll remember,'' she remarks pointedly.


    I tear off a small piece and slide it her way, earning a satisfied twitch of her whiskers. Breakfast passes in companionable silence, the warmth of the meal easing some of the lingering tension from the night before.


    As I push my empty plate aside, I glance at the innkeeper. ¡°Can you point us toward the town watch?¡± I ask. ¡°We have some business to attend to.¡±


    The innkeeper wipes his hands on his apron, nodding. ¡°Aye, just follow the main road toward the centre of town. You¡¯ll see their building¡ªstone walls, barred windows, can¡¯t miss it.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Elara says, standing and smoothing her tunic.


    ¡°One more thing,¡± I add, hesitating briefly. ¡°Do you know if there¡¯s a Seer¡¯s Guild House here?¡±


    The innkeeper¡¯s brow furrows in thought, then he shakes his head. ¡°No guild house in Hybern, but the mayor¡¯s advisor¡ªwhat¡¯s his name... Oh, right, Ander. He¡¯s a ranking member of the Seer¡¯s Guild in Stenfield. If it¡¯s Seers you¡¯re after, you might want to start with him.¡±


    I nod in thanks, filing the information away as we gather our things and step out into the bustling streets of Hybern.


    The watchhouse stands near the centre of town, its solid stone walls and iron-barred windows exuding a no-nonsense air. A guard stationed by the door steps aside as we approach, his sharp eyes appraising us.


    Inside, the captain of the watch sits behind a sturdy oak desk. He¡¯s a broad-shouldered man with greying hair, his uniform neat but unadorned. He looks up from a stack of papers as we enter, his gaze sharp and assessing. His fingers tap a measured rhythm against the wood, a subtle signal of his disciplined mind at work.


    ¡°Travellers from last night?¡± he says, his voice gruff but not unkind. ¡°My guard¡¯s report said you mentioned an attack on the road. I¡¯ll need a full account.¡±


    Elara steps forward, her posture straight and her tone steady as she recounts the events. She describes the burned wagon, the ashfangs, and the ogre with its strange runes. Her words are measured, leaving nothing out but avoiding unnecessary embellishment. Naomi listens quietly, her hands clasped in her lap, while Misty watches the captain with a look of feline detachment.


    When Elara finishes, the captain leans back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought. His jaw tightens slightly, and his fingers resume their rhythmic tapping. ¡°Hobs and ashfangs that close to Hybern is trouble enough. An ogre... that¡¯s worse.¡± He taps a finger on the desk again, the sound sharp against the quiet. ¡°And these runes you mentioned¡ªthis isn¡¯t the first time we¡¯ve had strange reports from the wildlands.¡±


    ¡°What sort of reports?¡± I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.


    The captain eyes me for a moment before replying. ¡°Odd behaviour in the creatures out there. Attacks where there shouldn¡¯t be any, tracks that lead nowhere. It¡¯s been happening more often these past months.¡±


    Elara nods, her expression grim. ¡°We¡¯ll be heading to Stenfield soon. If there¡¯s more to uncover, we¡¯ll possibly find it.¡±


    The captain gives a curt nod. ¡°Just be careful. Hybern isn¡¯t the safest place beyond the walls, but it¡¯s the best bastion we¡¯ve got. I¡¯ll send word to the outposts to keep an eye out for anything unusual.¡±


    ¡°One last thing,¡± I add. ¡°We need to have a word with Ander. Will we need an appointment or just head to the town hall and ask?¡±


    ¡°Ander?¡± He raises an eyebrow in curiosity. ¡°Just go to the town hall and ask. If he isn¡¯t too busy, he may be able to see you.¡±


    I nod my thanks, and as we leave the watchhouse, the weight of the conversation lingers. The bright morning feels less cheerful now, the warmth tempered by the knowledge of what might lie ahead. Still, the bustle of Hybern is grounding, a reminder that, for now, we¡¯re safe.