《Meer's Choice》


 Into The Fray

    The stench of steel and Spirit suffocates me. With no where to run or hide in this damp cave, a faint scent of iron is added to the mix. The wound on my head is worse than I thought. I¡¯m losing focus.


    An older gentleman shouts, echoing through the passage as he staves off a monstrous creature in front of us. I hear the girl next to me slide her feet as she dashes to take up a defensive position behind me. Surely we underestimated the situation by quite a bit.


    What am I even doing here any ways? I guess this is the adventure I¡¯ve been seeking.


    I smell an oddly nostalgic aroma.


    ¡°Soup?¡± I think to myself. Root vegetable soup to be exact.


    I¡¯m starting to hallucinate. God I wish I was hallucinating.


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    The scent of wood smoke, and baking bread hangs heavy in the air. A familiar comfort that does little to soothe the restlessness churning within me. Sunlight streams through the small, dusty window of my cottage, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the light around me.


    My name is Meer. A woman of an admittedly quiet disposition and a heart brimming with unspoken desires, find myself trapped in a life that feels increasingly like a cage. My husband, a man whose presence is as comforting as a cold hearth, remains stubbornly unmoved by my pleas to see the world beyond the familiar rolling hills surrounding our village.


    My days are filled with a repetitive cycle of chores. Tending the small herb garden that fuels my fledgling witchery, brewing simple remedies for the villagers, and enduring the quiet, unspoken tension that suffocates my marriage. The villagers, my female friends amongst them, offer little solace. Their lives are as predictable as the sunrise, their dreams as contained as our little village¡¯s boundaries. Yet, a seed of rebellion has begun to sprout in my heart, nurtured by the adventurous spirit that stubbornly refuses to be extinguished.


    This seed was watered further only a few days ago. A stranger, his eyes twinkling with countless adventures, arrived in the village, his clothes dusted with the grime of countless journeys. He spoke of shimmering waterfalls cascading into hidden valleys, of forests teeming with creatures both wondrous and terrifying, and of a world stretching far beyond the horizon. Truth or lies; I couldn¡¯t tell, but it is a world I desperately yearn to explore. His tales ignited a fire in my soul, a fire that surely burns brighter than the hearth that warms my small cottage.


    Tonight, the weight of my confinement presses down with unusual heaviness. Tomorrow, I must attend to a matter of vital importance, a ritual that binds me to this village, to this life. But in the shadows of this ritual, a different path seems to beckon. A path leading towards a destiny far beyond the confines of my everyday existence. The stranger¡¯s words echo in my ears, a siren¡¯s song calling me towards an unknown future. I know, deep down, that soon I will have to make a choice. A choice that could lead me to adventure, or keep me shackled to a life I no longer desire.


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    The cave walls seem to close in on me, or is simply it an illusion caused by the swaying of my staff? The tip of which is illuminated by a simple Light spell. I need to steady and focus myself.


    I clutch my feet on the gravel beneath and gaze past the light, to the abomination we currently face. It¡¯s an amalgam of flesh and grime. An outer layer of dirt and slime obscuring it¡¯s identity. My vision sharpens. The four branches I see poking out of it¡¯s shoulder dance before coalescing back into one.


    I remember now what it is I¡¯ve been looking out for. An opening between the man¡¯s dodging and parrying. The crushing walls of the cave forbid me from shooting out spells all willy-nilly.


    With a quick parry, he makes an opportunity for me. My lips have been chanting this whole time under whispering breath. I inhale a puff of air and clench.


    ¡°Fireball!¡± I shout as the my Spirit sparks into a furious ember. Contact is made in an instant as the creature reels from the impact. It¡¯s guttural screams echoe through the cave confirming the damage yet still, it stands strong.


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    The moon hangs heavy in the inky sky, casting long shadows that dance across my cottage floor. The gentle hum of my husband¡¯s breathing from the next room offers little comfort. Tonight, the weight of my secret feels heavier than usual.


    I carefully retrieve a small, worn leather pouch hidden beneath my mattress. The fruits of months of incessant saving. Inside, a small stack of coins and several days worth of dried rations lie nestled together, I''ve been secretly saving to commence my journey.


    As I slip out of the cottage, the night air feels surprisingly crisp against my skin. The stranger, I remember, was staying at the village inn. A ramshackle building at the edge of the village. I find him sitting alone on a bench outside; a half-empty flagon beside him. His eyes, when they meet mine, sparkle with a knowing amusement. He doesn''t seem surprised to see me under the cloak of night.


    He gestures to the empty space across him. "A clandestine meeting." he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I sensed your restlessness in our previous meetings." His voice is low; husky, carrying the weight of many narrations. The smell of wood smoke and something else, something wild and untamed, clings to him.


    This man, this mysterious traveller, seems to understand the silent longing that consumes me. I inquire about the path to the nearest village, hoping for a starting point towards a life less ordinary. He gives me a detailed description of the road, pointing out the window, towards the distant silhouette of the hills mentioning the particular landmarks and difficulties that might await me.


    More than a simple description of the way, it is an invitation to embark on my journey. His eyes hold a certain depth of understanding that sends a shiver down my spine. A mixture of excitement and apprehension. His encouragement feeds my ego.


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    I hear chattering from the shadows behind. The curves of the cave wall seem to funnel the sound into my ears. The urge to peer behind is alleviated by the knowledge that the girl behind me is steadfast, ready to strike.


    My Fireball didn¡¯t do as much as I hoped it would. The grime that coats the monster likely diminished it¡¯s effectiveness. The old man still trading slashes, manages to make contact with the monster a number of times. Yet between dodging and aiming around it¡¯s relentless attacks and patches of thick hide, the killing blow seems still far away.


    I feel it. I only have barely enough Spirit for two more major spells, so I need to make this next one count. I ponder if a Lightning Bolt would penetrate the slime, and grime but if that fails, I would be out of significant offensive spells.


    The threat of an ambush, the echoing roar of the creature, and the soft shivering of a girl whose back rests softly on mine. I¡¯ve got to do something. My hand shakes with uncertainty but I feel a warmth radiate from my satchel, a dim light escaping from the small wear and tears that litter the side of it.


    I have a faint sense of what it is. I pray a silent prayer focusing on the Feather tucked away into a chamber of my satchel, a fragile thread of Spirit connecting me to it. The wind whispers in my ear, urging me to lift my staff.


    ¡°Radiance.¡± I blurt out. My lips half move on their own.


    Stolen novel; please report.The Light on my staff flickers rapidly before bursting out into a beacon of light in all directions. The creatures watching my party scream in terror as their eyes are bombarded by a flash of light.


    The old man; too skilled to miss this unprecedented opportunity, lunges at the behemoth. Slicing; what I assume to be it¡¯s jugulars, in a swift and heavy attack. It lets out a monstrous roar that slides into a gargle as blood erupts from it¡¯s mouth and wound, falling onto it¡¯s knees and then face flat on to the ground. Dead.


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    About seven months have passed since I¡¯d begun my adventure. The moist dirt on the hem of my trousers stand out, glistening on top of the dried patches that validate the fatigue I feel. Up ahead in the near distance stands a large village.


    Stren, an up and coming town that had; up until recently, been considered one of the largest village in the Mural mountain range. The few hours of journey remaining gives me a small view of the situation there. A handful of desecrated carriages by the way side of the road. Some decrepit, some fresh. The fenced fields by the roadside seem to be half abandoned. Scraps of metal weapons dumped by a wooden wall that surrounds the visible outline of the town, providing the bare minimum sense of security needed to not abandon it.


    Entering the town, I am greeted by a weary guard. Clearly tired, and with bags under his eyes. He scans my possessions from a distance. I don¡¯t sense any animosity.


    ¡°Halt! Who goes there?¡±


    ¡°I... am an adventurer from Courage.¡± A bit of lying never hurt anyone.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look like someone from the capital.¡± He sounds sceptical.


    ¡°I was merely contracted by them to come here. I am a travelling adventurer.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re one of those eh.¡± He signals at me to enter.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be causing trouble now.¡± His tone carries less of a threat and more of a suggestion.


    I walk, hesitating to stop and ask the many questions that plague my mind. Our eyes meet as I pass him but I quickly turn away as I don¡¯t have the courage to disturb him, least he shoo me away in frustration.


    Clouds of dust linger in the air as children kick and follow a woven ball across the street. The small Town Square bustles with a tense but active energy. The locals look at me with a certain understanding that I am new in town. Yet none seem wary of me, but neither do they approach.


    There is some commotion by the centre well. A group of people have huddled around around a seating area. The group isn¡¯t big enough to stand out from any other around the square but the tension is palpable. The rest of the villagers peer towards them every few seconds in curiosity, or maybe in annoyance.


    The atmosphere is heavy but this looks to be the most likely place for the answers I seek. I walk up to a man on the outer fringe of the meetup.


    ¡°Is something going on here?¡± I ask. He turns to answer but is slightly startled but the presence of a stranger, ¡°Oh... uhm... We¡¯re trying to settle a local issue.¡± he replies.


    I press, ¡°Is it the goblin attacks?¡± His eyes widen as he replies, ¡°Yes it is actually. We¡¯ve hit a dead end. The guards are unsure if we can solve the issue.¡±


    ¡°What about the adventurers? Aren¡¯t they supposed to be setting up a raid to solve it?¡± I probe further.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s what would usually happen. But our town is new so the Adventure¡¯s Guild had barely been set up when it started. Alas, the handful of adventurers that gathered have left deeming it to be a hopeless cause.¡±


    So the rumours were true. I assume that it wouldn¡¯t hurt to take a gander around.


    ¡°I am a travelling adventurer. Who could I speak to if I were interested in helping?¡±


    I had barely finished the sentence before an old man from deeper in the crowd exclaims.


    ¡°An adventurer?¡±


    the crowd gives way, allowing an old man to walk through. He continues,


    ¡°Hello there miss. My name is Briar, the Elder of this village. I couldn¡¯t help but overhear that you are interested in aiding us.¡±


    I give a hesitant nod. He continues, ¡°What an opportune timing. The guards at the Guardhouse are meeting to come up with a plan. I will have someone here guide you there.¡±


    Waving to an aide to show me the way. He adds as I depart, ¡°But don¡¯t be too disheartened by what you might find there. I¡¯m sure the people you will meet are quite reliable.¡±


    I give my thanks and follow the lady.


    A large two-storied building stands in a clearing on the eastern side of the town. Half timber, half cobble stone, the structure seems sturdy even if quite unkempt. The aide says,


    ¡°You can enter the building from the far left side. That should lead you straight to the meeting room.¡± She gestures toward a side entrance that gives access to an outhouse at the back of the building.


    ¡°Thank you. Also who should I ask fo-¡± My question is cut short as I turn to see her already walking off a few buildings away. I feel anxiety well up as I clutch my staff. Tip-toeing to the side of the door, I steady my breath in anticipation. My ears catch words being spoken inside, but my scrambled brain refuses to make sense of it no matter how hard I try. I close my eyes and turn to enter.


    ¡°Hello everyone! I am an adventurer and have been hired- I mean asked to help. I haven¡¯t been hired yet but I am willing to be hired. If you or they are looking to hire and also pay.¡±


    I blurt out; standing motionless by the entrance, my eyes shut tight. I have not mastered the use of my tongue. I slowly open my eyes to see large yet a sparsely furnished room. A large centre round table surrounded by a bout a dozen wooden chairs, only two of which are occupied. I notice the patrons that I have disturbed. An older man and a girl about my age, both staring at me.


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    The monster is dead yet the danger is all but over. My vision, still dazzled by the flash of my spell, fails to focus on the path ahead. Surely the greater Spirit had taught me something useful, but I would¡¯ve been glad if it told me to shut my eyes a well. I flutter my eyelids hoping to fill in the outlines I can make out with finer details.


    The old man has crouched down, examining the creature he had just slain. He mutters something but I cannot quite make out what is. My brain is struggling to keep up. The rush of adrenaline subsiding has left me fairly woozy. The thick liquid slowly inching down my back makes the reason clear.


    The girl behind shouts out. My ears fail to make sense of it, but the vibrations I feel from our backs against each other alerts me to it¡¯s urgency. The man stands up and starts running, so I start as well. The pressure on my back is now shaped like the palm of a small hand, the fingers pushing and guiding me through the barely lit cavern.


    The light on the tip of my staff falls dimmer. I need to focus more Spirit into it.


    We stop, as the three of us huddled around the light. They look at me expectantly but the light source refuses to expand. I make an attempt for a few seconds, the ball of light pulses sporadically, threatening to extinguish if I falter at the slightest.


    Suddenly, I my body floats up, my staff dangling at my fingertips as I am lifted and cradled by the man. The last I remember is us approaching a small opening behind a rising stalagmite before the cavern fades to pitch black darkness. Did I fall unconscious or was it my spell being snuffed out? I¡¯m not sure.


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 A Sigh of Relief

    ¡°Who the hell is this?!¡± I think to myself.


    It¡¯s impossible to make out as the sunlight glares at me from behind them. I could¡¯ve sworn I closed that door too. My eyes take a few seconds to adjust, and eventually I make out the general appearance of the intruder.


    She¡¯s an older lady, about my height, wears glasses and has long dark hair, which the sun just about lights up enough to reveal is actually a burnt red colour. Her dusty clothes suggest ages of travel, however the general condition of them are immaculate.


    I turn back towards Gareth who sits across the table. A look of astonishment slips out of his generally stoic face. It seems like he is just as surprised as I am, so this isn¡¯t a planned introduction. I feel the need to say something, but struggle to come up with a question. She¡¯s been staring at us for quite a while now. I don¡¯t like where this is going.


    ¡°I see, come on in. We can have a chat.¡± Gareth welcomes her in.


    He is a man in his mid forties. Short clean white hair with a light beard to match. His equipment simple, yet finely polished, disguising the fact that he¡¯s been in battle every other day for the last month or so. His inner shirt is centred perfectly to the well kept leather neck guard. The pinnacle of what a knight should look like, but his perfection as a warrior also extends to his demeanour. Polite, intellectual, patient, astute, self-sacrificing, long suffering, generous, street smart, knowledgeable, and with many other merits to his name. I can only hope to be a quarter as worthy as he one day.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± the stranger replies.


    She walks in brushing past me. Her head darts left and right as if looking for the perfect chair to sit on. Eventually, she picks one and sits down perpendicular to us. I didn¡¯t notice at first, but she also carries a wooden staff that looks quite expensive, or maybe it is just well maintained.


    ¡°So you¡¯re an adventurer are you? By the looks of it, you must be a spellcaster. A witch maybe?¡± Gareth inquires.


    ¡°Ye-yes I am. I was just in the area and thought maybe I could... help?¡± She replies.


    Gareth looks down, deep in thought. His gruff face radiates a fierce and intense energy, akin to a lion rearing to pounce on its prey. But I know that he is actually kind and preceptive to people¡¯s plight. Unfortunately for our unaware visitor; who is clearly scared stiff, it¡¯s quite difficult to understand that until you spend many a gruelling days working under him.


    ¡°Hmm... Alright that sounds good to me. I¡¯m actually quite grateful that you¡¯ve come at the perfect time.¡± He says.


    That is true. Gareth and I were struggling to gather up the provisions and equipment necessary to make the raid on our own. A spellcaster should be really convenient to have as a team-mate. I look down at the random assortment of equipment strewn about the table. A better half of them derelict, too old to actually function.


    ¡°I can do most basic spells.¡± She replies. Her eyes look more confident now. Her mouth, almost curving to a smile.


    ¡°I can conjure Light, and also enhance you with Protection and Swift. I am not very proficient at it but I can also cast a minor Heal. My offensive spells are Fire bolt and Lightning bolt. That¡¯s about all the spells I have... I think...¡± Her voice shrinks as she trails off towards the end.


    I look down at the knick-knacks we procured. The polished black granite round table shimmers in stark contrast to the dusty torches, lanterns, armour plates and crossbow bolts that litter it¡¯s royal face. I wonder how useful this person would be in our party, but I gather that something is better than nothing.


    ¡°That¡¯s perfect.¡± Gareth replies. ¡°How fortunate we are to have you with us.¡±


    He unleashes a comforting smile at her. My hands clench my chest in slight envy. I¡¯d seen him show such appreciation a handful of times, but I¡¯ve never been able to elicit such a response myself. I must show my valour during this raid. It¡¯s the greatest opportunity I¡¯ve had until now.


    ¡°Ahem. Pardon me for the late introductions. My name is Gareth and this here is-¡±


    ¡°Elara!¡± I rise from my seat. I realize that I¡¯ve been silent this whole time.


    ¡°My name is Elara Miller. I was a guard in training for the last three years and this is my first mission and my fourth month as an official guard.¡± I proudly proclaim.


    She seems relieved. Her voice slightly stutters but begins, ¡°Hello, my name is Meer. I am a travelling adventurer from the village of Odel to the far south. I have only begun my journey earlier this year, but I hope to be useful in this endeavour we are about to undertake.¡±


    Her sentences are saturated. I wonder if it¡¯s a gift of the elderly to be so superfluous in their speech. However if Gareth is content, I won¡¯t argue. Even if she is an adventurer.


    Gareth takes a deep breath and begins, ¡°Alright, In a kinder world, we would have been more accommodating, but we shall be leaving tomorrow at the crack of dawn. I wish I could give you more information but apart from the location of this cave here¡±- Gareth points to a fairly crude map on the wall, ¡°There is not much else I can tell you. Elara and I are both, quite straight forward swordsmen. There is not a whisper of magic between us.¡±


    Meer swallows hard. The weight of her role in this has become clear. Being the only magic wielder is quite a colossal ask. I wouldn¡¯t blame her if she backs out. That¡¯s what they always do. Leastwise, Gareth and I will be enough to get the job done.


    ¡°Alright. I shall be ready.¡± She declares. Her eye are clearly fearful, but I sense confidence in her stance.


    ¡°Great, we¡¯ll meet up at the main village gate at sunrise. Also you look starved, why don¡¯t you grab some lunch. Elara, show her to the Crooked Tankard. That¡¯s about the only place you can buy a hot meal from around here. Dismissed.¡°


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± I exclaim with a salute. I turn to and leave through the open door behind me. My ears catch the rustling of chairs and baggage as Meer follows behind.


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    We find ourselves at the mouth of a fairly small cave. As Gareth and Meer assess the equipment and possibilities of what lie inside, I peer through the circular entrance to see that the cave walls flatten and squash quite a bit towards the inside. The ceiling visibly extending up till the light from the morning sun fails to grasp it¡¯s height any further. I feel claustrophobic already.


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ll have to push in a single file¡±, Gareth says. The tiny old map he holds, barely has any details on it.


    He continues, ¡°The prospectors that mapped this cave decades ago gave up after a certain depth. With so many ore rich pockets in the Mural ranges, they must¡¯ve figured that it would be easier to just try another one.¡±


    He pockets the map as they walk past me and says, ¡°Elara, you cover the back. there are a few forks down the line so keep an eye out for any bushwhackers.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± I reply. Meer turns to me and we lock eyes. Her dark brown irises run deep in contrast to the highlights of the bright morning sunlight. This might be the first and last time I see it up close.


    It takes a few seconds but she finally says ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± I reply, but she doesn¡¯t seem to react to my answer before turning to the cave. Something tells me, she was talking to herself. Meer lift¡¯s up her cane upright in front of her, closes her eyes, and starts to chant in tongues. It takes a few seconds but she open them up again and utters, ¡°Light.¡±


    A small thread of white mist-like Spirit shoots up from her hands, coiling up the staff before it turns into a small radiant globe at the tip of her staff. I stare awestruck, my mouth wide agape. The light was clean and dazzling, illuminating everything around us, overpowering the sunlight. I look at Gareth, who is clearly impressed by the outcome of her spell, but what caught my attention the most was the caster herself whose face looks even more surprised than mine.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Gareth lets out an affirming hum as he starts into the cave. Meer follows suit and I take a deep breath before stepping into the cave myself. The echoing of footsteps slowly amplify as we leave the entrance behind. The tiny protrusions on the ground start increasing in size as we are forced to step around the larger ones. Reaching the first fork in the road, Gareth signals at me to cover the split as they walk in to secure the dead-end branch. They return with nothing to report.


    We continue the cycle for a few more tributaries, their return occasionally preceded by the death-cry of a goblin, and we arrive at the final crossroad listed on the map. Gareth¡¯s hand lifts and falls with an open palm, signaling at us to melt into the walls. The Light dims. In the lukewarm darkness, my ears start picking up sounds previously masked by our footsteps and ruffling bags. The air vibrates with something that sounds like a body being dragged on the ground. It¡¯s soft but heavy, like the sounds of farmers dragging the large sacks of rice to their godowns. It seems to be coming from the left fork.


    ¡°I¡¯d consider checking the right path first but with no more information on our hands, it¡¯d be worse for whatever that is we hear to follow us into a dead end.¡± He whispers, his voice subdued just enough not to stir an echo in this chasm.


    Both Meer and I nod. My mind runs blank on if the choice is right or wrong, but I trust Gareth, he is always right. We push ahead on the left-hand path. The Light swells up barely enough to illuminate the ground in front of our feet. Meer¡¯s hand rises up to her face, probably pinching her nose as a smell of iron and rot starts to fill the air. The stench is light but unmistakable, like the smell of a monster¡¯s corpse left out for the crows.


    The light suddenly flattens at a dirty grey wall. A dead-end I think, so I turn back to head on to the other path.


    ¡°Get back!¡± Gareth cries out. My nerves tingle from the sudden ring of echoes in my ears. He springs towards us, his back pushing Meer in to me. A loud impact fills the air followed by a scrape that sounds like screws on a metal wall. Light amplifies to fill the cave walls, and we lay eyes on the source of our trouble.


    The monstrous creature, barely contained within the confines of the narrow passage, lets out a deafening roar that echoes through the cavern. Its size, truly overwhelming in the cramped space, makes a direct frontal assault seem suicidal. Meer quickly chants a spell, weaving a protective shield around Gareth and imbuing him with a burst of speed. The incantation, whispered urgently, barely disturbs the creature¡¯s focus, but the effect is immediate as the frontline bursts into battle.


    The urge to take the front line overwhelms me. I push past her, my sword scraping the solid wall on the left. Gareth moves with a blur of motion, his sword turning into a silver streak as he launches a lightning-fast attack, aiming for the creature¡¯s exposed flank. The creature reacts with surprising agility, its claws slashing wildly, but Gareth¡¯s enhanced speed allows him to evade the worst of the attack.


    I try to step into the fray, but inserting myself into this ongoing dance feels impossible. My eyes struggle to find an inch of ground that¡¯s empty for long enough step in. Desperate to commit to action, I look up to see the face of the monster. My eyes widen with terror, as my hands clasp tightly around the grip of my weapon. I¡¯ve never felt such a terrifying pressure weigh down on me. The creature towered over us, it¡¯s hands barely having enough space to pull back and make his attacks. The grime and layers of gunk conceal almost all of it¡¯s body.


    Suddenly there is silence. Both combatants seem to slow down as if aware of an impending stalemate. I beg my feet to take flight. I need to take action. In my moment of selfish valour I hear a sound that pulls me back into to reality.


    Its a short, fleshy THUD followed by the clanking of rocks on the ground.


    I look back to see a nightmare painted on the wall. There are silhouettes of multiple goblins hiding behind the scattered protrusions of the cave. Their identities only divulged by the titular pointed ears that represent their kind.


    ¡°Meer! Lookout!¡± I shout, but she doesn¡¯t react. Her face is contorted in pain. I didn¡¯t notice it at first but she¡¯s stood with her back hunched slightly down. Her eyes; unfocused, are not on the battle. I peer behind her feet and realize the source of the sound. A rock about the size of two palms lay on the ground splattered with blood. She¡¯s been hit.


    I dash to the backline, careful not to push her down while navigating the uneven terrain. Gently laying my back against hers, hoping to prop her up if she stumbles backward, but without pushing her face down. I grip my sword in shame, I let my eagerness to achieve... something... whatever it was, get the better of me.


    The goblins seem to be keeping their distance. It¡¯s possible that in their eyes, both we and the monster are a menace to them. Their clatter and chatter sound too hollow to be a threat, still I need to focus on defending the rear. The fight between Gareth and the monster has picked up again. The clash of claws and steel resume. I hear Meer mumble something and turn my head, hoping for a clearer voice when all of a sudden the cave erupts in a flash of fire. The walls turn a yellowish-red for a split second as she launches a fireball at the monster.


    The explosion is thunderous. The goblins scream, their shadows wriggling in their panic. I focus my eyes on every singe movement, hoping this is enough to deter them from further action. I swear to not look back. I¡¯ve already made one mistake.


    The bellows of the monster only seemed to turn more infernal as the battle rages on. My patience is running thin. I¡¯ve got to know what¡¯s happening behind me. Before I succumb to my weakness however, a flash of light erupts again. This time, the cave itself turns white, and instead of the brimstone heat of the first spell, this one feels soft and warm like falling into a pile of downy cushions.


    Unable to take it any more, I turn back just in time to see Gareth slash the monster¡¯s throat in a coup de grace. It¡¯s gurgling death cry will haunt me for a long while. A flesh covered bone shoots out of the gash as it¡¯s head tilts back. I look on; slack jawed, as the creature kneels, then collapse forward. The ground shakes timidly as the dust around it¡¯s body erupts in celebration. It¡¯s blood pouring out like a tipped over flagon. Gareth examines the body as I struggle to absorb what I¡¯ve just witnessed. But my mind is quickly anchored to the situation by the shuffle of feet behind us.


    ¡°Multiple goblins approaching form the rear!¡± I shout.


    I¡¯ve lost track of what is loud and quiet in this cave. Gareth quickly rises and signals forward. I sheathe my sword and put my hand on Meer¡¯s back. Firmly but carefully pushing her ahead. Her feet moves quick but heavy, her balance seemingly stable yet uncertain. I feel moisture through the back of he tunic and light armour. The wound is worse than I thought. I fear that she may collapse before we reach a clearing. The faltering pulse of the Light spell reinforces my concern.


    ¡°She¡¯s going to black out!¡± I yell, hoping Gareth can hear me.


    ¡±We need to find a place to rest and patch her up.¡±


    We seem to have lost our pursuers, yet the uncertainty of silence behind our footsteps scare me.


    ¡°There.¡± Gareth commands in a strong yet hushed tone.


    He points to a stalagmite rising near the side of the cave, the pitch black portion of an opening peeks out from the side, barely noticeable against the wavering light.


    He tucks his hands under Meer¡¯s knees and shoulder, lifting her up to make the final sprint. We make a dash for the alcove as the Light dies. My feet guided only by the remnants of an outline burnt into my mind.

 Twists and Turns

    I open my eyes, but the darkness is dense. The only proof of my survival is the sound of breath surrounding me. I can easily identify my own, but it takes a moment to recall who the others belong to. My eyes start to adjust to the dark. I say it adjusts; but really, all I can make out is the faint illusion of a person sitting across from me.


    ¡°Are you awake?¡± a voice pulls me back to earth. It¡¯s Gareth.


    ¡°Uh-I... Ahem.¡± I strain but my dry throat refuses to speak.


    ¡°Shhh.... It¡¯s fine.¡± He replies.


    I feel someone shift next to me. Elara¡¯s soft voice whispers into my left ear.


    ¡°Here, drink some water.¡±


    I turn towards her voice and open my mouth. Her finger gently pokes and draws a line along my cheek, guiding the mouth of a water-skin to my lips. The water pours out, as I desperately swallow. I didn¡¯t realize how parched I had been. I focus desperately on not choking; the last thing we need is for a cough to shatter this silence.


    ¡°Do you need some time to rest?¡± Gareth asks.


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m sorry.¡± I reply. ¡°If even for a little while. My Spirit... it''s almost over." The admission is a weight lifted off my shoulders.


    ¡°Alright we¡¯ll stay put for an hour or so. I would like to give you more time but this tiny alcove offers little protection.¡±


    The fresh cloth bandages wrapped around my head offer some cushion against the uneven wall. My body relaxes as my vision starts to return. Gareth¡¯s outline, once flickering in and out of existence becomes somewhat tangible. I hear Elara¡¯s breathing, ragged in contrast to his, whose breath is barely audible even in this silence.


    Once settled, I try seeking answers. Thankfully my voice has returned, even if just a little.


    ¡°Can you tell me everything you know about these creatures? What we face and... how you feel about continuing."


    I try to mask the exhaustion in my voice, focusing on the task of gathering information. The silence that follows is heavy with concern but I accept it. If they do not know, then it''s no use pushing further.


    I feel Elara shivering beside me. The cave isn¡¯t particularly cold, leaving fear as the only explanation. I reach out for her hand. A soft outline of her fingers being the only indication of it¡¯s location as I gently take it in mine. If I were more experienced, I would¡¯ve spoken some words of comfort and reassurance. But all I could do was mimic the voice of the cavern. The tremoring of her hand eventually clams to the steady pulse of her heartbeat as we sit in silence.


    The seconds pass into minutes, and the minutes turn into an hour.


    ¡°It¡¯s time.¡± Gareth whispers.


    He rises silently and peeks through the exit, peering from the cover of the stalagmite and taps his sword on the rocks twice, signalling us to come out behind him. I clutch my staff and whisper a Light spell. It illuminates the wall, casting dark shadows that eclipse the ambient light of a distant torch.


    Confirming our safety for the moment, Gareth turn to us. His lips stammer for a moment but his eyes lock into a resolute glare. ¡°Do we continue on?¡± He asks. I struggle to reply, instead turning to the remaining companion in hopes of finding the answer there.


    Elara is a little taller than me. Her light blonde hair fails to touch her shoulder, cut short as to not impede in a swordsman¡¯s dance on the battlefield. Her blue tunic, ruffled beneath the light armour pads that are unevenly strewn across her frame. She carries a wooden spear, tied to the holster on her back. Her now hidden blue eyes, gazing away from my staff in contemplation. The leather straps and pads line her armour down to her boots that swivel on the gravel in apprehension.


    ¡°Let us continue onward.¡± I couldn¡¯t take the suspense I suppose, so I answered.


    I reckoned that there was nothing waiting for me if we went back anyway.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s make haste.¡± he replies.


    Elara doesn¡¯t react. We proceed away from the path to home. A distant clink of metal reminding us of the inhabitants that haunt the cave.


    ¡°Gareth sir. I think-¡± Elara stops us.


    We look back to see her grasping for words.


    She continues, ¡°I think we should head-¡±


    Her sentence is cut short by a loud crack that lingers with a creak, before it crescendos into a bone shaking snap. The floor beneath Gareth collapses as he slips into a harsh slope, sliding into an abyss.


    ¡°GARETH!!¡± Ours voices meld into one. I amplify the light to reveal an extended fissure that runs across the bottom corner of the path; the result of mother nature¡¯s movements. Elara drops to the ground, peering into the chasm we¡¯ve stumbled upon. The sound of excited goblins in the distance make their way to us from both sides of the path.


    ¡°I can¡¯t see him. How do we get back to him?¡± Her voice trembling. I wrack my brain but the situation seems hopeless. The ambient lights on either sides of the tunnel seem to be getting brighter, as the edges of my Light spell begin a grapple for power against their torches.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°We have no choice. We¡¯ll have to crawl down to him!¡± I yell joining her belly down on the ground.


    I quickly tie my hair into a bundle against my body. Elara retrieves the spear from her back and we squeeze our equipment and ourselves into the fissure.


    The descent is difficult. Rows of jagged edged stone and hardened silt nick our softer cloth and skin. Our hafted weapons anchor us against the steep slope, using them as leverage to avoid slipping into to the unknown. Pushing one elbow at a time, we maneuver through the varying angles of the slope as the roof begins to taper down, closing in on us. Elara lifts her head, the roof of the fissure barely allows her to lift it high enough to look over her shoulder.


    ¡°I see the light from their torches, but they don¡¯t seem to be following us in.¡± She says.


    ¡°And judging by how many legs have gathered, they definitely know where we are.¡±


    The unintelligible chatter of goblins bounce through the narrow space. My body shudders, too afraid to look back. The last thing I want to see is a goblin¡¯s vile face crawling towards us.


    We keep our pace, slowly descending the closing mouth of the crevice. occasionally moving closer and further away from each other. Our paths are dictated by protrusions, mere inches in height. The kind we simply would¡¯ve ignored above, were now the insurmountable barrier between freedom and being stuck for eternity. Although some seem to have been freshly chipped off, probably by Gareth and the sheer force of his fall.


    My mind races into oblivion with thoughts of getting stuck, finding Gareth¡¯s lifeless body or even worse, finding him at a narrowing dead-end. My breathing grows heavier, each inhale hurting my chest as it presses against the uneven floor. The oppressive walls tighten around my skull as I fail to notice my panting start to echo in the silence.


    ¡°Meer.¡± I turn to see Elara watching me, fraught with worry, but managing to smile.


    ¡°Everything will be alright.¡± Her words are kind. My heartbeat relaxes as I summon all the determination I can muster into my face.


    ¡°Yes it will. Thank you.¡± I reply.


    Descending a few dozen feet, the Light emitting from my staff eventually reveals a bundle of silver hair.


    ¡°Gareth!¡± Elara shouts. The tone of her wavering voice match the tears on her cheeks.


    ¡°Gareth?¡± She repeats.


    ¡°What are you two doing here?¡± His voice is weak but authority still rings through.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you came down to save me.¡±


    He lets out a cough but it is cut off by a wince of pain. I crawl down closer towards him, approaching from his side. He had stopped his fall by wedging himself, his elbows and knees pushing against the wall above. The metal plate protecting his elbow crooked, and cracked from the sheer force required to stop himself.


    I pin one end of my staff on the floor and the other against the palate, leaning against it to stop my body from free falling. I chant a nervous spell as Elara crawls closer towards him from across.


    ¡°Heal.¡± I cast a weak spell that reduce the gashes around his face and exposed skin. In this moment, I really wished I were more adept at Void magic.


    ¡°Thank you. I feel much better.¡± Gareth¡¯s voice seems firmer but the bleeding from a larger gash continues.


    ¡°We need to figure out how much deeper this goes. I can¡¯t turn around or climb up in this position so...¡± He turns towards his subordinate and adds with a gentle concern.


    ¡°Elara dear, I know you don¡¯t like the dark, but we¡¯ll have to wait for Meer to check the bottom before I can let go.¡±


    ¡°M-hmm.¡¯ She agrees.


    I reach into my satchel and pull out a torch that is passed on to her.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll call out when I reach the bottom. You can tie that to the far end of your spear and light it when you start to descend. If there¡¯s no news for ten minutes after my light vanishes, you can make your way down regardless.¡±


    I unhook my staff from the pocket, my body slipping slightly while I anchor myself again.


    ¡°Be careful Meer.¡± Her voice peeks out from behind Gareth.


    I look back as best as I can and reassure them, ¡°We¡¯ll take a long break once we¡¯re out of here.¡±


    My voice isn¡¯t exactly the pinnacle of confidence, but Gareth lets out a soft chuckle and says, ¡°See you then.¡±


    I commence the solitary descent. The chasm now darker than it was before. A rush of pressure builds up in my head, growing worse every second. The quiet conversation behind me fades away as I cover several more feet. The left side of my vision starts to blur and a slight movement in my stomach causes it to churn. I need to get out of here quick.


    The mouth of the crevice begins to tighten as I fear I won¡¯t make it through the next section; yet somehow, I do. The only sounds I hear are the pitter-patter of tiny pebbles dislodged by my movements as a warm breeze half-heartedly brushes against my face.


    Suddenly, the ground underneath my staff vanishes. My shoulders buckle and lose balance from the sudden sensation and I slide down, being greeted by a drop that gently places me on soft, bumpy ground. I jump to my feet and stick my staff back up into the crevice on the wall, pushing inside as far I can before shouting with all that I have.


    ¡°IT¡¯S SAFE! COME ON DOWN!¡± and then there¡¯s silence.


    ¡°YOU CAN COME DOWN NOW!¡± I repeat.


    My heart beats erratically, yet I know they will make their descent regardless. I focus my ears to the wind, listening intently for any signs of movement. Nothing. I consider shouting for them again, before my ears catch a rattling in the distance. A tiny pebble strikes me gently on the back of my hand. There is a moment of stillness before I feel another one, this time on my chest, and then another. The drizzle of pebbles continue, the time between each growing shorter. Eventually I see the unsteady light of a torch peer over a hump in the slope.


    I let out a sigh of relief. I can barely contain my happiness and probably wouldn¡¯t be able to if my throat weren¡¯t so dry. As they near the exit, I reach up to gently help Gareth down first. He plants his feet on the ground; surprisingly quiet. I move to catch Elara, taking her spear and saving her from falling face first as I had.


    ¡°I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re alright.¡± She runs to Gareth.


    It looks like she wants to rush forward and embrace him, but is holding herself back. I walk over to them and hand over the spear to Elara when I noticed my Light against the torch, it¡¯s lost almost all of it¡¯s power. I had not realize it, but that last Heal must¡¯ve really burnt my Spirit down.


    ¡°Here.¡± My concern is pushed aside by Elara who hands me a water skin. ¡°It¡¯s the last of our water. Gareth and I had some before descending.¡± I grab it and fling it to my face, just now realizing how thirsty I¡¯ve been. I swallow the final bit of water from the pouch.


    ¡°Uhh... Didn¡¯t you tell us that it was safe here?¡± Gareth asks looking down at the ground. My gaze chases his.


    ¡°Yes I didn¡¯t see or hea-¡± My answer is cut short by the uneven bumps beneath us. As I glance past the layers of dust and pebbles, I realize we¡¯re standing on the corpses of goblins. He points to a farther section of the ledge where one had seemingly tried to climb back up the crevice, its lower half torn away. It¡¯s innards dangle to the ground.

 Root Vegetable Soup

    - Chapter 4 -


    ¡°We need to move. But carefully now, we¡¯re not out of the woods yet.¡± Gareth warns.


    My grip tightens around the staff as fatigue seeps into my legs.


    ¡°I barely have enough Spirit for one more spell. If there¡¯s something... ¡± I stare at the corpses. ¡°Worse than a handful of goblins, we have to run away.¡±


    Elara nods. She holds up her torch and we press forward. Gareth; his weathered face, grim but resolute, leads the way. The torch casts dancing shadows on the cavern walls. Elara rest¡¯s one hand on her sword, her breathing is shallow but steady.


    The tunnel opens into a larger cavern, the scale of which easily dwarfs any previous chamber. The air here is heavier, thick with the stench of decay and something else. Before us stretches a vast vault, its floor littered with the skeletal remains of creatures both large and small. In the distance, we spot a glimmer of light, a possible exit, but the path is treacherous. Jagged rocks jut from the ground, and the air hums with an unsettling silence broken only by the drip of water echoing through the cavern.


    As we advance, Gareth stops abruptly, his hand raised in warning. He points to a series of intricate carvings on the cavern wall, barely visible in the flickering torchlight. They depict grotesque, monstrous figures engaging in some kind of ritualistic sacrifice. The carvings are ancient, weathered by time and water, yet undeniably sinister.


    There are sigils carved below as well, not unlike the ones used by certain sects. Gareth pulls a piece of cloth from his bag, drawing it down with a chip of charcoal.


    Suddenly, a low growl rumbles through the cavern, our attention diverted to it¡¯s source. From the shadows by the exit, monstrous shapes begin to emerge. These are different from the brutish creature we¡¯d encountered before. They are larger, their movements fluid, more intelligent, and their identities hidden by the dark. I can only make out their silhouettes against the bright rays of the exit.


    "Gareth..." I say softly, fear rooting me in place.


    Whether we fight or flee, my courage won''t reach my feet until I hear him make the call. I look over to Elara who looks as terrified as I am, but her training keeps her hands steady on her sword and her knees poised, ready to strike or bolt.


    Gareth eyes towards us, his gaze sweeping over Elara and I. The flickering torch catches the grim set of his jaw. He doesn''t speak, but his eyes, experienced and unwavering, convey a silent assessment of the situation.


    Subtly shifting his weight, his hand stretches back slowly as to avoid triggering a reaction, pointing to a half crumbled crevasse we had just passed. I start chanting; the fastest I ever have, as a subtle thrumming sensation vibrates through my satchel. Power surges through me, weaker but still palpable as the monstrous shapes in the distance continue their careful, deliberate advance, their guttural hums echoing ominously through the cavern.


    ¡°RUN!¡± The word escapes my lips, sharp and urgent, cutting through the suffocating tension. Before the monstrous creatures can react to my scream, a desperate zap of Spirit jolts through my body, and erupts from my staff as a Fireball, hurling at the roof of the cavern above.


    The spell, far more powerful than any I had conjured before, slams into the cavern ceiling above the advancing horde. The impact is deafening; a shower of rocks and dust rains down, momentarily obscuring the creatures in a chaotic cloud. I catch glimpses of panicked movements in the dust cloud, roars of fury and pain barely audible above the thunderous cascade of debris. We make a break for the fissure, a path of escape, albeit a narrow and precarious one.


    The air is thick with dust and the smell of charred stone. Elara, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and astonishment at the sheer power of my spell, follows Gareth, her movements surprisingly swift and decisive. The ground trembles, not just from my spell''s impact, but from the angered bellows of the creatures, now partly buried, partly enraged, struggling to clear themselves from the fallen rubble.


    The rough, uneven walls scrape against my skin as I scramble forward, the darkness pressing in from all sides. The narrow passage barely allows me to squeeze through, our movements hampered by the confined space. I can hear Gareth and Elara ahead, their desperate scrapes echoing faintly in the claustrophobic tunnel.


    I glance back, a brief, desperate look revealing a monstrous appendage still struggling to reach us in the passage''s narrow opening. The sounds of the creatures¡¯ frustrated roars and the grinding of stone behind me start fading, replaced by the rhythmic thud of my own heart. But the relief is short-lived. The distance between my companions and I are growing, the sounds of their progress echoing further and further ahead.


    ¡°Wait for me! ELARA! I¡¯m still here!¡±


    My shout for Elara is lost in the constricted space, swallowed by the damp air and the relentless pounding of my own heartbeat. Panic claws at the edges of my mind, the darkness seems to press closer, and the air grows thinner. My screams stop echoing, my lungs burning with each intake as the fissure twists and turns.


    ¡°Don¡¯t leave me!¡±


    Tears stream down my face, mingling with the sweat and grime that coat my skin. The thought of being alone, truly alone, after all I''ve endured, is a crushing weight. It overwhelms me, slowly extinguishing the flickering ember of hope that has sustained me this far. The passage seems to stretch endlessly with every turn, a torturous labyrinth with no discernible end. I cant see, nor hear them. They¡¯re gone.


    A pale speck of light, appears ahead, almost imperceptible at first. I push my body forward, revealing a small cavern. As I stumble in, the source of the light becomes clear. A small opening, high in the cavern wall, allows a sliver of sunlight to penetrate the gloom. Elara, her face streaked with dirt and tears, is tending to Gareth, who lies slumped against the cavern wall, unconscious but breathing. Relief washes over me, so profound it almost knocks me to my knees. My body trembles as Elara looks up, her eyes widening in relief as she sees me emerge from the gloom. Gareth groans softly, his eyelids fluttering.


    I sit next to the hole I emerged from with my staff resting on my lap. I wipe the tears from my face and look towards Elara. My lips quiver trying to form words. I¡¯ve never depleted my Spirit to this degree before. Master warned of it''s dangers so I had always been very frugal with my Spirit, as any mage would.


    ¡°What do we do? Gareth is unconscious. I think he¡¯s lost too much blood.¡± Elara asks.


    ¡°I don¡¯t... I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°This place seems safe enough for now.¡± She looks... disappointed?


    I look around and there are no signs of life apart from us. It¡¯s safe, but we need more than just safety.


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


    ¡°You¡¯re right, but we need water.¡±


    Elara sits quiet, staring at Gareth, it doesn¡¯t seem likely for her to volunteer.


    ¡°I think I hear drips of water. Stay here while I take a look.¡±


    She remains quiet.


    I brace against my staff and push to my feet, mustering up a Light spell, but the glow barely lights up my face.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± she says, still not looking at me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    I slowly stumble through the near darkness, heading towards the sound of water. It eventually leads me to an opening on the side so I crawl to the edge of the entryway. Sat and listening for any movement, my patience is the only weapon I have left. The rhythmic flow of water almost lulls me to sleep before I¡¯m awakened by a distinct flutter of feathers.


    I instinctually snuff out my Light. Weighing my options, though it really comes down to just two choices; do I enter or not, I also have the option of returning to the two, but then we¡¯d be back to square one. We also don¡¯t really know how much longer we¡¯ll be safe back there.


    A warm light suddenly lights up the wall in front of me. A jolt shoots through my body, and I almost let out a scream in terror, but a voice calms me with a pat on the shoulder.


    ¡°It¡¯s just us.¡± Gareth whispers.


    I look at him, my face about to burst into tears. Elara sits behind him holding out the torch.


    ¡°What do you think is inside there?¡± he continues.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know but there¡¯s definitely something inside. I don¡¯t know if we can fight but we need that water.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll go in.¡± His face growing serious.


    A quiet swish of metal hisses through the air as he draws his sword and slowly enters the room. We follow him inside cautiously.


    The room is fairly spacious. A stream of water spills out from the wall on the left, splashing haphazardly on the stone beneath before flowing into a groove on the floor. A stack of boxes; most of which are broken open, stand on the other side of the room. We stand at the entrance, scanning the shadows for any movement. A figure pops out announced by the sound of flapping, feathered wings.


    ¡°What is that? Do we fight it?¡± Gareth asks hesitantly.


    I stare at the creature, it¡¯s small, barely a foot in height. It vaguely resembles a griffon fledgling, but the colour of it¡¯s feathers reflect the light off our torch, shimmering with an iridescent light. I¡¯ve seen this kind before. My hand rests on my satchel where I know a mysterious feather lies. But the part that captivates me the most are it¡¯s eyes. It¡¯s the exact same as the ones I saw that night.


    ¡°Lyric?¡± I blurt out.


    ¡°Hmm? I¡¯ve never heard of such a creature.¡± Gareth replies.


    ¡°Oh, no-Yes. I mean, no that¡¯s not a type of creature.¡± I stumble my words. It¡¯s impossible to explain in the moment.


    The small bird like creature seems frightened, shivering in hostility.


    ¡°Wait, let me try and... uh... talk?.. With it.¡± Gareth look back at me confused.


    ¡°Well alright. It doesn¡¯t seem like there¡¯s anything else in here. Elara, lets fill our water-skins while she does that.¡± He sheaths his sword and makes way for me to approach.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± She asks.


    ¡°You won¡¯t have time to live life if you try to understand everything a magic users does.¡± He replies. She relents, lowering her sword to follow him.


    I approach the creature. It leans away from me, much like the cats back in my village would. It¡¯s front legs lower to pull it¡¯s head away from me, with it¡¯s talons cutting lines into the dirt below. It¡¯s wings spreading out to the side, as if trying to make itself look bigger. I fear if I push too hard, it might try to fly away.


    Reaching into my satchel, I rummage through it¡¯s pockets till my hand pulls out a feather, iridescent much like it¡¯s own, but much larger than any on it¡¯s tiny body. Along with it comes out the small wooden toy of a bird, it¡¯s head carved like it¡¯s wearing a crown. Which upon further inspection isn¡¯t very different from the creature¡¯s own form, with it¡¯s feathers faintly jutting out around it¡¯s head.


    The Feather vibrates softly as I hold it out towards the creature. It pecks at it before resting it¡¯s beak on it, closing it¡¯s eyes as if in a deep but voiceless conversation.


    ¡°Hello.¡± I speak to it.


    It coos softly, it¡¯s eyes still closed.


    ¡°Are you tired?¡±


    It¡¯s head falls into the palm of my hands. I catch and lift it¡¯s body into my arms, it¡¯s chest rising and falling slowly as falls asleep.


    ¡°She¡¯s cute.¡± Elara peers over my shoulder.


    ¡°It¡¯s heavier than it looks.¡± I smile back. She lets out a short giggle as she walks towards the boxes.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take a look and see if there¡¯s anything we can use here. Why don¡¯t you relax and drink some water.¡± She says, but seems to avoid looking directly at me.


    ¡°Sure. Let me know if you need help.¡± She doesn¡¯t respond.


    I walk towards the spring. Gareth tosses a now refilled water-skin at me which I barely manage to catch, hoping to not wake my passenger.


    ¡°Thank god it¡¯s not hostile. In our condition, we might not have been able to beat it.¡± He chuckles. They¡¯ve lit up another torch and planted it near the spring.


    I sit by the flowing water, looking down to see a small spot of blood on it¡¯s wings. Moving it¡¯s pinions, I find a small wound. The blood has dried but it¡¯s wing spasms as I touch around it.


    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s hurt. I guess that¡¯s why it didn¡¯t make a break for it immediately.¡±


    Gareth scoots over towards me.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t look too bad. Hand ¡®em over here. I¡¯ll put some herb paste on it and you can heal it once you¡¯ve recovered some magic.¡±


    I hand it over to Gareth and he cradles it gently in one hand, reaching over to his satchel with the other for the medicine. I look back over to see Elara¡¯s shadow moving on the wall, her figure hidden by the boxes. I¡¯ve got an idea.


    I run over to her and assess the integrity of the wooden planks. One by one, we move the empty crates towards the exit. Stacking them into a barricade and haphazardly wedging some of the broken ones into the sides to lodge them inside the tunnel.


    ¡°That should do the trick.¡± I exclaim. ¡°It might not keep them out, but at least we¡¯ll know if something tries to get in.¡±


    ¡°M-hmm¡± Elara happily agrees.


    The ¡°door¡± we¡¯d made is not much to look at, but the feeling of security from being in a closed room is tremendous.


    Her eyes turn towards Gareth, lowering her face down to a worried frown. He¡¯s fallen asleep with the small creature bandaged in his arm. The fresh blood from his numerous wounds glisten in the light of the newly lit torches. The torch in her hand finally dies.


    ¡°Tend to his wounds for now. I¡¯ll heal him once I¡¯ve recovered some Spirit.¡± I say, trying to console her.


    ¡°Yes I should.¡±


    She kneels down beside him and assesses the medical provisions laid out in front. In the meanwhile, I take a look at the items we¡¯ve gathered from the site. A bunch of vegetables; some completely charred the rest edible, along with some... meat? These were salvaged from a burnt-out fireplace. There are also ropes, planks of leftover wood, and two pots with a handful of broken, crude tools and weapons.


    Judging by their smaller sizes, it must have been a goblin¡¯s camp. Probably the ones that were wiped out near the fissure. The meat appears too questionable to use so I toss it into the furthest corner of the room. Luckily, in addition to these, we also have some some dried rations we''d packed as well. I wash the pots in the stream, and collect some planks and stones into a fireplace, casting a minor Fire to ignite it.


    The day has been difficult, but the night promises rest.

 It Never Moved

    ¡°Root vegetable soup?¡±


    Elara asks as she moves closer to the boiling pot, lowering her head to take a look at the dish.


    ¡°Yes. There was just about enough usable veggies here, and also... I was also craving for it.¡± I reply.


    She stares down at the bubbling broth, refusing to look up at me as I speak. Something is clearly on her mind. I stir the pot and reach into my bag, pulling out a flat tin-box from it. The sides have been slightly caved in, a result of our last escapade.


    ¡°I brought some hard-tacks, it should pair well with the soup. Maybe it¡¯ll make it more of a stew.¡± She finally looks up at me, albeit slightly confused. I reach over the pot and pass her two pieces.


    ¡°Oh! Sailor¡¯s biscuits. I... Thank you.¡± She looks at it with a hint of sadness. I know it¡¯s not exactly fit for royalty, but I didn¡¯t expect her to be disappointed by it. My face must¡¯ve given away my thoughts as she blurts out.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not like I dislike them. I Just... I had a... bad experience with it once.¡± She puts up a smile, but her eyes don¡¯t seem to move as she says, ¡°They¡¯re called molar-breakers for a reason.¡±


    I let out a chuckle and say, ¡°I¡¯ve never had issues with it, but my best friend always seemed to lose a tooth every time we ate one.¡±


    We let out a laugh together. It¡¯s the first feeling of relief I¡¯ve had since entering the cave, or maybe even reaching the village... Maybe, since I¡¯d left home.


    The fire beneath the pot crackles as she adds another plank of wood.


    ¡°Meer.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± I reply. A few seconds pass as she hesitates to speak again. Eventually she does continue.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°I told you it¡¯s fine. Someone had to take care of the old man.¡± I let out a chuckle, hoping that¡¯ll make it more believable.


    ¡°No. I mean, that too but...¡± She stares into my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that you got hurt because of me, and that I even thought of leaving you behind when you were the one who kept saving us.¡±


    ¡°Elara, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s what happened.¡± I reply. ¡°I mean, we were both just trying to survive, right?¡±


    ¡°That still doesn¡¯t excuse my actions. I just assumed that since you¡¯re an adventurer, it wouldn¡¯t matter if I abandoned you. After all... that¡¯s what adventurers always do.¡±


    There¡¯s anger in her voice. Her feelings appear too deep-rooted to be a recent development.


    I swallow before asking, ¡°Does it still hurt to think about the Guild abandoning your village?¡±


    I don¡¯t really want to pry into something so personal, but it¡¯s been a while since I¡¯d talked to someone even close to a friend.


    ¡°Yes and all the other times too.¡± She replies. There¡¯s definitely something deeper to uncover but I don¡¯t have the heart to push further.


    ¡°I see. I imagine I¡¯d be really angry as well if they did that to my village.¡±


    ¡°So you really aren¡¯t from the capital?¡± She asks. Her eyes shoot up with intrigue, but the sudden question nearly makes my heart stop.


    ¡°W-who-who told you that?¡± I fail to stop the stutter.


    ¡°Sola told us last night at the Guardhouse. He said he had met you at the gate yesterday and you¡¯d told him you were from Courage.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t have hid the shame from my face if I¡¯d tried.


    ¡°Hehe- I only said that because I didn¡¯t want him to ask too many questions. Also! I didn¡¯t tell him I was from there, just that I¡¯d accepted a contract there.¡±


    I need to improve my lies next time. There were clearly some holes in my story. I make a mental note.


    ¡°That¡¯s too bad. He looked so excited saying, ¡°A mage from the capital can fix the issue in a jiffy!¡± Yes, that¡¯s what he said.¡± Her impression of the boy was quite spot on.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to deceive you.¡± I bow my head in shame. She lets out a laugh. Her eyes convey happiness.


    ¡°That¡¯s alright.¡± She says in between her laughs. ¡°You told Gareth and I the truth so that¡¯s all that matters. He even said, you¡¯re most likely from a village. Something about not showing your Identity Slab.¡±


    He got me. Citizens from the Capital tend to flaunt their Identity Slabs while us lay-folk forget that we even have one.


    ¡°Is Odel in the south?¡± She asks, stoking the flames with a rod.


    ¡°Yes it is. Have you been there?¡± I¡¯m surprised she knows that.


    ¡°Not really. It¡¯s just that, your clothes are thicker than most I¡¯ve seen around here. My... family, is from up north, so this region is quite warm for us.¡±


    The soup seems to be about ready.


    ¡°I see, did you move here recently? Your parents transferred here perhaps?¡± I ask.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s been ten years.¡± Her voice softens, with the last word being barely audible. There is a gap in the conversation. A rhythmic cooing fills the air as we look to find Gareth awake, gently stroking the creature¡¯s head as it sleeps nestled on his lap.


    ¡°Food is ready. We¡¯ll bring you a bowl Gareth.¡± I tell him.


    He nods in thanks, however before I can move, Elara stands to take out a fairly large metal mug from her bag which she uses to scoop up some soup. She places two biscuits on top of it and carries it over to him. Handing over the dish, Elara bends down and carefully lifts the creature from his lap.


    ¡°You can eat first by the fire. I¡¯ll hold her for a while.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll bring you a batch after I¡¯m done.¡± He says before standing up, making his way to where she had been sat.


    I lift the pot from the stones around the fireplace and place it to the side. The corners of the cloth I use to grip it hiss, as it is singed by the stoked flame. Gareth throws in another plank and a crackle of embers jump out into the air.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t talk too much when she¡¯s pondering.¡± He speaks in a hushed tone. Clearly hoping that Elara doesn¡¯t overhear the conversation.


    ¡°And she¡¯s quite an over-thinker you see. All of her youthful brashness and recklessness disappear as soon as she starts to think.¡± His eyes smiling, clearly happy to have witnessed our conversation.


    He pulls out a biscuit and takes a sip of the soup.


    ¡°Root Vegetables eh?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and some of the dried meat we carried as well.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad I gave that to you. Elara isn¡¯t much of a cook so she¡¯d probably have forgotten we carried any.¡± He lets out a soft chuckle. ¡°I would¡¯ve put the meat in at the end if I were cooking this myself, but I suppose this way, the soup has more flavour. I like it¡±


    ¡°Do you cook for your family?¡± I ask.


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    Reaching for the small pot we¡¯d found here, I scoop up some soup for myself. There is a hole near the brim, but it¡¯s nothing a little balance can¡¯t manage.


    ¡°Yes I do.¡± He replies. ¡°It¡¯s quite simple when you have a small family.¡±


    The soup came out quite well if I do say so myself. The sweetness of the carrots and radish form a nice base for the assortment of veggies we¡¯d scavenged. The smokiness and fat from the dried meat brings a fullness to the flavour. The aroma of dried herb powder adds a lot to it too, especially when there¡¯s barely enough vegetables to justify calling it a dish. If only I had carried a little more salt. No matter, at least my nose approves.


    ¡°What brought you all the way East?¡± He asks.


    ¡°Nothing much, just heard from a contact in the capital that help was needed here.¡± It¡¯s technically true.


    ¡°I see. Well I¡¯m glad you did. We¡¯ve had a handful of travelling adventurers come by over the years. But apart from being interested in the Edge of the World, none seem to want to stay.¡± I feel his eyes stare into my soul.


    I guess people like me aren¡¯t that rare after all.


    ¡°I would be lying if I said I weren¡¯t intrigued by the Edge, but that is that, and this is this.¡± I can¡¯t bring myself to lie completely. ¡°I also need to earn money and find a place to settle down for the winter.¡±


    I take a sip of my soup before plopping a biscuit into it.


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± he accepts my story. ¡°Regardless, our village can¡¯t afford to be choosy right now. I do appreciate the fact that you¡¯re stuck in this hellhole with us.¡±


    I give him a smile, hoping he¡¯s half-joking at least.


    ¡°You don¡¯t seem to be apprehensive about me being an adventurer. Both Elara and the guard at the gate had been... how do I put this in a nice way... wary?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive them. Stren is a new town so their experience with your lot is limited. Now that I think about it, all they saw were adventurers arriving and then leaving when things started to get difficult.¡±


    He takes a swig of his mug. The bottom of it rises quite high above his forehead. I guess he¡¯s almost done, so I take out the last two hard-tacks from my tin-box and place it on the stone in front of him.


    ¡°I spent my youth in the military, mostly stationed at the capital, so I¡¯ve met enough adventurers to know when I see a bad one. Which reminds me, you¡¯re quite young to be a traveller aren¡¯t you?¡± He asks, leaning down to the flowing water next to us.


    He rinses the mug vigorously and swishes the excess out in the air.


    ¡°That¡¯s what the others say too.¡± I reply.


    My biscuit has soften up and I use a fresh one to break it down into a thicker stew. Gareth scoops up the soup and places the hard-tacks on it just as Elara had and walks back towards the lady. The same act plays out, now with the roles reversed and we find ourselves back at square one. Elara sitting across from me, taking tiny sips from the fresh mug of soup.


    ¡°How is it?¡± I ask.


    ¡°It¡¯s good. I hadn¡¯t had these biscuits in ages.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t they make these in the village?¡± I had assumed that these were a continental staple.


    She seems to think for a while.


    ¡°They do, but I haven¡¯t had any since moving here.¡±


    She manages to break one in half, and stirs the mug with it while speaking.


    ¡°I hope we make it out tomorrow. The Captain already gave Gareth a hard time for deciding to enter the cave. If something were to happen while we are away, we¡¯ll probably get into a lot of trouble.¡±


    ¡°Is this not a village sanctioned raid?¡± I ask, surprised.


    ¡°No, we barely have two dozen guards in the village so the Captain didn¡¯t want to weaken our defence. The Guild representative said he would return with more adventurers once he submits a report in the capital.¡±


    ¡°Ah I see, but that would take too long wouldn¡¯t it? The paperwork is slow to start with and even then, who knows how long it would take to convince adventurers to take the job.¡±


    She nods silently. I guess it¡¯s still a sore subject, I should try and change it.


    ¡°So...¡± I start to wrack my brain to come up with something, but my mind draws a blank.


    The crackling of fire is easy on the ears. Smoke rises up slowly, escaping to the many cracks on the ceiling. Gareth stands up and walks towards me, handing over the little fledgling and I cradle it in my arms.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s safe enough to spend the night here. Judging by the light we saw in the last room, I¡¯d reckon it¡¯s early evening right now.¡± Gareth arrives to save me from my own social ineptitude.


    He walks up to the barricade, plucks out some of the broken planks, and drops them on the ground by the fire. A bandage on his arm loosens, but he quickly fastens it back on.


    ¡°We seem to have enough fuel to last the night. Nevertheless lets be a little frugal with the firewood.¡±


    Elara turns to him and says, ¡°You should rest first. I¡¯ll keep Meer company till she sleeps, and wake you to take the night-watch after.¡±


    Gareth agrees and moves his bag and cloth to lie down at the corner of the room, hidden away from any prying eyes that may try to spy on us through the gaps on the ¡°door¡±. A cool breeze sporadically enters through one of the cracks on top, but it¡¯s hard to make out which one exactly.


    The creature coos softly in it¡¯s sleep. The downs of it¡¯s wings ebb and flow with every breath. It¡¯s right wing has a half strip of bandage running around it, pinning a small, green cotton swab to the wound. The dancing light from the flame causes the feathers to look ethereal, the iridescent colours moving with it like layers of flowing liquid.


    ¡°How do you know what she is?¡± Elara asks. I was wondering when they¡¯d give in to their curiosity.


    ¡°I... met something similar in my travels.¡± I want to give a better answer, but the topic is difficult to explain.


    ¡°You mean like an adult sized one?¡± she prods.


    ¡°Hmm... not quite. It¡¯s a little bit of a story.¡±


    ¡°Seems like the one thing we have plenty of is time.¡± She seems adamant.


    I scour my memories for a suitable starting point. Scenes of odd villages, hopeless battles and dusty crossroads fill my head. It¡¯s not too difficult to find a place to begin, but I need some time to rationalize the crux of the story. I close my eyes in self-deliberation, a part of me hoping that she¡¯d change the subject if I remained quiet for long enough. But alas, I open my eyes to see her eagerly waiting, so I begin.


    ¡°Ahem... I guess you could say it all started during my journey to the capital.¡±

 Sleep Is Peaceful

    Four months ago, I found myself at the edge of a dark forest. Nothing too different from any tall tree¡¯d woodland you¡¯d come across in the central region. Though the steady slopes of the Western mountain range might make them more daunting than a forest in the plains. Regardless, I stood at the edge of the thicket contemplating the path I had found myself on.


    We had just disbanded a makeshift party set up at the last village. A party that was clearly not meant to be as we had failed our first and only contract. Also, lets just say that this wasn¡¯t my first disbanding. Keep in mind, it¡¯s been about two or three months since I¡¯d begun my ¡°adventure¡±, so I was actually at a point where I was seriously considering giving up and returning to my village.


    Sunset had begun by the time I stepped foot into the forest. Most people would¡¯ve called me crazy for going in alone. Even a travelling caravan would definitely hire a handful of adventurers for protection. To be honest, I wasn¡¯t feeling... the best at that moment. It¡¯s difficult to put it into words now, but I was hoping something would happen if I entered that forest. Whatever that might¡¯ve been.


    As I walked down the winding pathways of the region, the darkness felt comforting in a weird way. I unconsciously put a protection charm on myself, clearly still at odds with what I wanted out of this journey. But the winds were warm, a rare phenomenon in the hills, and the chirping of insects from within the trees were soothing. An hour or so into the trek, an ox driven cart passed by.


    ¡°Are you heading inside now?¡± An older woman called out.


    I turned back to see the cart had slowed to a halt.


    ¡°Yes, I have somewhere to be.¡± I replied.


    ¡°This forest runs deeper than most you know. You¡¯ll probably have to walk till morning even without a break.¡±


    I didn¡¯t reply.


    ¡°If you wait for a day or two, my father here can take you with him on his next run.¡± She points to the man holding reigns to the cart. The other two on the cart must¡¯ve been hired adventurers.


    ¡°Thank you for the offer, but I really need to get going.¡± I gave them a thankful wave.


    The man nodded and snapped the reigns. The lady didn¡¯t acknowledge what I had said, still looking at me while I turned away. Even now, I still wonder for how long she¡¯d stared at me.


    There were a handful of scares in the next few hours. I narrowly evaded a group of wolves, crawled past a small bandit encampment, and unfortunately ended up having to fight a wild mud golem before escaping. Honestly looking back, it was probably the worst day of my life; well, the second worst if I include today.


    - Elara glares at me angrily, so I tell her I was joking. We laugh it off, but I can¡¯t help but feel, there is some truth to it. -


    Eventually I spot a clearing in the distance. The shrubs seem to have gotten shorter as well, allowing for some cooler winds to pass and grace my face. As the woods thinned out, I beheld a clearing push up to a gentle hill. If the directions I had received were right, I was almost halfway to the next post.


    It was an hour or so to midnight by now. The sky was clear, and I¡¯m sure I spotted at least a dozen or so stars without really looking all around, when a sudden sensation came over me. I still don¡¯t know what it was. Maybe fear, surprise, or even calmness, but I just stood there looking at an empty patch of grass on the mound. I don¡¯t remember seeing anything for a few long minutes.


    I stood still, my body refusing to move, yet my heart was calm. The air smelt... nice, with a kind of citrus aroma. I eventually became aware of my blinking eyes. I blinked once, then once more, and then again, going on until, on a random blink of the eye, there it was.


    A figure stood exactly where I had been looking the whole time. Absent one second, there the next. There was a creature unlike anything I¡¯d ever seen or imagined. Tall and slender, its skin was pure darkness with a layer of shimmering, colourful light on top, much like this little one on my lap. It''s eyes glowing with an unnerving... energy as it stared at me.


    It¡¯s form, vaguely human-like, but its limbs end in smooth, bird-like claws, and its head was adorned with a crown of feathers that seem to shift and change colour before my eyes. Speaking of eyes, it¡¯s face had nothing but two bright eyes, roughly where a human¡¯s would be. It doesn''t move, doesn''t seem to acknowledge my presence, yet its gaze feels like a boulder weighing down on me. There was some unseen energy in the air that was not Spirit. Actually, the protective Spirit around me seemed to flicker, almost dying, but I felt no malice directed at me.


    - A sharp pop sends an ember spark up from the fireplace. The little one shifts it¡¯s head, pushing it¡¯s beak gently into my belly, and goes back to sleep. -


    This was no ordinary forest creature; it was something far more powerful. I felt control over my body come back to me and I... well honestly, I still have no idea what came over me.


    "Hello." I said. Ha-ha, can you believe it? And I kept on going too.


    "Who might you be?"


    I was trying to sound calm, but my heart finally started a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The creature remained motionless, its iridescent skin shimmering in the moonlight like captured starlight. Now I don¡¯t know why, but the longer I stared it, the more I had this feeling that it was hurt... hmm... maybe that¡¯s a bad way to put it. Weakened, might been a better word. But regardless, it felt almost pitiful to look at.


    After what feels like an eternity, a single feather detached itself from its crown and drifted slowly towards me, settling at my feet. I bent down to pick it up, my eyes never moving from the creature. I get it in my hand, and it¡¯s impossibly light, yet feels warm to touch. I feel that same radiating, pulsing energy from it.


    Now I don¡¯t know what came over me... again, but I decided to try cast a spell at it. Of course I¡¯m not a maniac, so I chanted a Heal spell and kind of lobbed; instead of shooting, my Spirit at it. When I did, that was the first time I felt my Spirit connect to this Feather I held in my hand. It didn¡¯t feel like I received any magic from it, but rather, it let me push out more Spirit from my body.


    - Elara Looks at me clearly confused. I guess it¡¯s a difficult idea for someone without magic to grasp intuitively. -


    So the spell touches the figure, and its body starts glowing. The golden light from the spell might¡¯ve been brighter than usual, but it¡¯s hard to say for sure given the unique colour of the creature. It still looks the same, that feeling of weakness still lingering in it¡¯s figure, but now I feel a sense of gratitude directed towards to me. Its eyes gaze happily, but still it looks unchanged.


    I hear happy chirps fill the air, the sound seemed to emit directly into my head, so I start walking. The sound is melodious, almost like it wanted me to sing along with it. Getting right up to the creature, I lift a hand reaching for it, slowly making contact with the hard sheath of a talon.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked.


    The chirping filled my head again, this time it sounded like a poem in a song. There was no echo. it¡¯s timbre, completely unaffected by the empty grassland that surrounded us.


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    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to come up with one myself.¡± I thought.


    Sure, maybe it was a little presumptuous on my part, but I was alone with something I couldn¡¯t converse with. You have to take certain liberties as an adventurer, so I got to thinking. It took a while but I managed to come up with something that I though, was quite decent.


    ¡°Lyric.¡± I named it.


    ¡°I¡¯ll call you Lyric. What do you think?¡±


    It never moved. But the chirping rang true, sounding more like tweeting by the end of the melody. I took it as a sign of acceptance.


    I felt comfort. It had been a harrowing journey through the woods, but for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was safe from everything. I noticed a light shine from the corner of my eye. It was the path to the next town. The moonlight seemed to shine brighter on that road. I took one last up-close look of Lyric before I made my way to re-enter the forest.


    Looking back one final time, I see it standing stationary, still turnt towards the way I¡¯d come from. And with one last blink of my eye, it was gone.


    I made my way down the path as the next six or seven hours went by. I did not encounter any more dangers in the path, or maybe it¡¯s more accurate to say that danger didn¡¯t find me. Eventually I escaped the forest, with the next town up ahead in the valley, the sunrise cast a light shadow over the sleeping buildings. I took a moment to get my head on straight, wondering if it had all just been a dream or a hallucination, and honestly sometimes I still assume it was all just that. But this feather, serves as a proof that it was real.


    - Elara stokes the flame as a plank pops into embers. I expected her to be sceptical of my story, but surprisingly, she didn¡¯t ask any questions. Honestly, I feel a little disappointed. -


    About a month later, I found myself on the final stretch to Courage. The Feather had stayed in my bag, never having really showed any significant effect as of then. The western range slowly receded to the fertile plains of the central region. I was lucky enough to have been hired to guard a caravan till the outer Capital. The journey was peaceful, but at about an hour from the city, I started to feel this pair of eyes staring at me from a distance.


    I passed it off as my anxiety getting the better of me, but the feeling just kept worsening the closer we got to the city. The weirdest part was that I could feel exactly where the eyes were. Not like something that was stalking me, but rather, a cardinal direction that was absolute. It¡¯s gaze tying me down like rope to a fulcrum as the highway bent and looped around the riverside.


    We entered the Capital without any issues, I collected my fees, and went on my way choosing to ignore the feeling; at least while I was in the city, as I did a bit of shopping and information gathering. Unfortunately for me, as I kept asking for directions to an adventurer¡¯s tavern, the locals seemed to point me down exactly towards the source of my anxiety.


    It was a difficult search as the streets were filled by roadside hawkers and solicitors trying to gain the attention of the busy adventurers. Passing a building without having a vendor jump in front of me with their merchandise was impossible. But finally, I spot the tavern¡¯s sign a few buildings away and I make a dash for it.


    About three steps away from the door, I felt a shiver run through my whole body. The source of the gaze that was constantly in front of me, suddenly loops around, and now stands right behind me. My feet stopped. My hands shivering as I tried so hard to force myself to turn around, the smell of the food stalls and exotic perfumes pass my face in turn. It took a few seconds but I finally turn to face the adversary.


    - Gareth stirs in his sleep. The flames start to die down a little, but I guess it is better to be moderate with the fuel. -


    It was an unusually tall... man... I think. His skin, a pale shade of brown, wearing a tattered, dusty, grey cloak that loosely covered his figure as well as his identity. The green pants and brown boots seemed mismatched to the condition of the cloak. I had not noticed him in the heat of the moment, but looking around, he barely stood out from any other wayfarer on the street; that is, apart from his height.


    ¡°Can... I help you?¡± I asked.


    He doesn¡¯t respond. His arms poking out of the cloak are calm.


    ¡°Have you been watching me?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± he replied. His voice is quite gruff. He doesn¡¯t sound old, but there is a low raspiness to it. I start to feel the tension of the moment as his body towers over mine.


    ¡°W-Why? Do you need something?¡± I think I was trying to intimidate him.


    His right arm moves back into the cloak as he rummages for an item. My body clenches for a second, I was considering making a sprint for the door. But before I could complete that decision, he pulls it back out seemingly empty.


    ¡°To give this to you.¡±


    He opens up his fist to reveal a small wooden toy. Barely about half a finger¡¯s length yet it¡¯s form is intricately designed. Now I have realized that it looks much like this creature we¡¯ve found in here. I call it a toy because the limbs move around the joints, but it is admittedly, more of a work of art. The minute details of the feathers, the firm yet smooth joints of it¡¯s limbs, the curve of it¡¯s tail around the side of it¡¯s body and the tiny bumps of it¡¯s crown are all so masterfully done, especially considering how small it is.


    I spent a few seconds marveling at the item as the hustle and bustle of the street raged on around us. All the while he stared at me, not in a menacing way, but with what felt like more of a look of understanding. Although, what he understood exactly, I¡¯m not so sure of myself, as my mind was steeped in confusion.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Was all I could muster up. Asking question in my position felt strangely suicidal.


    I tried to look him in the eyes to link a face to this gift, but the deep shadows of his cowl made it impossible. His head shook with a nod as he takes a step backwards, away from me.


    ¡°Be safe.¡± Was the last thing he said.


    Curiously, he kept walking backwards, never turning nor lifting his stare away from me. I considered calling out to him to be careful, but he seemed to avoid the chaos around him with ease, narrowly avoiding the flowing traffic of the street. Eventually he disappeared behind the stream of people.


    I stood there with the gift in hand. It seemed too good to be a coincidence so I put it into my bag, and there they have remained together, the trinket and the feather.

 The Flow of Energy

    - Chapter 7 -


    ¡°So you¡¯re like... The Chosen one?¡±


    Elara¡¯s eyes finally beams with awe. I admit, an intricately carved toy is more impressive than a feather. The fireplace is starting to die down, being kept barely alive by two thin planks. It takes me a second to consider if it would be too pretentious of me to agree.


    ¡°Heh... I haven¡¯t really thought about it that way.¡±


    ¡°Did you feel more powerful after all that? Have your spells always been this strong?¡±


    ¡°Hmm... Not particularly. After all, I¡¯ve failed most of my quests since then.¡± I wince just thinking about it. ¡°To be honest, this has been the first time I¡¯ve noticed any kind of connection while casting spells.¡±


    I stare down at the smaller feathers of the sleeping creature on my lap, wondering if there really is a bigger plot at play here. Elara thinks for a little while before resuming the interrogation.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of a Hero being currently on their way to the Capital. Could you be someone like that too?¡±


    Her optimism warms my heart, but I can¡¯t help but feel like we¡¯re reading into this a little too much.


    ¡°Maybe, but I think I would have a little more direction or an idea of what I¡¯m supposed to be doing if I were.¡±


    ¡°So is that why you¡¯re travelling towards the Edge of the World?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I blurt out. She¡¯s smarter than she lets on, and I¡¯m not the best at lying. ¡°I mean, I guess I am, but pretty much, every adventurer wants to go there regardless. Right?¡±


    ¡°Right... The few adventurers I¡¯ve talked to said they were looking to cross the mountains, and the Woods to visit the Edge after this goblin issue is solved.¡±


    Her brows scrunch up in intense deliberation. This dialogue is getting a little too close for comfort at this point. I need to change the subject.


    ¡°Speaking of which; considering how big of an issue it is, it didn¡¯t seem like there were that many goblins in the cave. Were there more of that giant earth monster attacking the village?¡±


    ¡°No, there were only goblins. Nothing else.¡± She answers as she throws in a bundle of wood to fuel the flames. So much for being frugal.


    I had been wondering for a while now that the goblin population seemed sparse, scattered, and unorganized. Nothing a dozen guards as well as a handful of adventurers wouldn¡¯t be able to handle. Granted, we had not reached the final depths of that cave yet.


    I feel a fullness in my heart. My Spirit is finally back to a good level. Hovering a hand over the fledgeling, I carefully chant a Heal spell, hoping to get the most out of the Spirit I''m about to use. Dropping the Spirit from the centre of my palm, a thin yet strong light envelopes the creature. The spell feels... decent. I am hopeful it¡¯s wings will be well come morning.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never met a healer before.¡±


    I look back up to see her leaning, quite dangerously over the now roaring flame to take a look at the effects of the spell. Her scabbard dangling loosely on her belt.


    ¡°They are quite rare. I¡¯ve only met a handful of spellcasters who can even use Void magic in general.¡± I tell her.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you one yourself?¡± She asks.


    ¡°I can barely use Light and Heal. Of course, I received a new spell earlier today, but there¡¯s no guarantee of being able to use it again. Even with the blessings of a Greater Spirit, it takes a lot of practise and luck to really internalize a difficult spell.¡±


    ¡°So you are one right?¡±


    ¡°Not quite. My affinity with Void magic is fairly low. I only begged my master to teach me the two spells because I thought they would be useful to have as the Village Witch. I probably would¡¯ve been a more proficient spellcaster if I did not spend so many years trying to learn just those two spells.¡±


    ¡°So... you aren¡¯t one?¡± She keeps pressing. the topic is difficult to explain and her frustration is showing.


    ¡°Let me put it this way. You are not an archer, so you may be useless with a bow, but you can still throw an arrow with your hand right?¡±


    The words feel clunky coming out of my lips. The analogy sounded much better in my head.


    ¡°Ah yes. I get it now.¡± She smiles, seemingly satisfied. I wonder if I¡¯d made a mistake, but it might be best to leave it at that. ¡°So what is your main... is it, affinity?¡±


    ¡°Air. My Protection, Swift, and Lightning Bolt are all blessings of Eurus, the Greater Spirit of Air.¡±


    ¡°Then why did you only shoot Fireballs today?¡±


    ¡°Embarrassingly enough, I just couldn¡¯t think of anything else in the heat of battle.¡± I laugh nervously. Just when I thought I was starting to impress her too. In my defence, it probably was the right call in both situations.


    ¡°They were so powerful though. I wish I could use magic.¡± Her eyes look really excited.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as great as you think it is. Magic users tend to have weaker bodies for some reason, so you wouldn¡¯t be able to wield that sword as beautifully as you do now.¡±


    ¡°Hmm you¡¯re right.¡±


    She goes silent again, deep in thought. I guess her swordsmanship holds greater significance to her than I realized.


    Gareth stirs in his sleep. He had fallen into slumber quite quickly. The events of the day had left us all quite exhausted, with even my eyelids starting to weigh heavy on my face. Elara still looks quite energized, whether by the meal or the conversation, I do not know. Though her posture clearly reveals some weariness.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to do this to you, but I need to get some sleep.¡± I tell her. I¡¯ve started to become more aware of the heaviness in my limbs.


    ¡°Of course. It¡¯s fine. You should get as much rest as you can. I¡¯m glad we had this discussion.¡± She does genuinely look happy now. ¡°Why don¡¯t you pass her on to me.¡±


    I gently lift the creature and walk around the fire. My forearm balancing its injured wing carefully as to not loosen the bandage. She takes it on to her lap and gently strokes its feathers.


    I head over towards the sleeping Gareth and scout a flat patch of dirt by the wall. The cave is fairly warm so the lack of a blanket isn¡¯t too bad, I only wish I carried my larger cloak to use as a mattress. Although considering the ordeal we endured, maybe it was for the best. After all, the last things I need in a narrow cave are bulky clothes and an extended hat.


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    Laying down with my bag beneath my head, the events of the day replay in my mind. I begin to wonder if there was anything I could¡¯ve done differently, but the exhaustion hits me before I can get far into my assessment. My memories muddle up with previous adventures, the faces of people walking next me seem to shift between a handful of past acquaintances.


    The sleep is peaceful.


    There is a heaviness on my chest. Did I overdo it yesterday? I suppose I pushed myself more than I thought. There is a pulsing sensation on my forehead too. Surely I¡¯m being punished for using up my Spirit. I¡¯m sorry Master, I should¡¯ve listened to your warnings more intently.


    ¡°Hey Melo! You¡¯re going to hurt her.¡±


    It¡¯s Elara¡¯s voice, or so I think. I try to open my eyes, but the grogginess of my mind has yet to subside. From the tiny bit I¡¯ve managed to open, I can make out a light much cooler than the yellow-red of last night¡¯s fire. A string of happy chirps fill the room as I finally manage to open my right eye.


    ¡°She¡¯s happy to see you awake.¡± It is Elara.


    The burden on my chest finally subsides as I see the small creature being lifted away from my face. She pulls it up to her chest and shoots me a good morning smile. The chirping continues to ring, as its beak opens and closes slightly out of synch with the sound.


    ¡°Good morning Elara. Is Gareth awak- Ouch!¡±


    I try to lift my head but the spot on my forehead is surprisingly sore. I rub my fingers on what I assumed was a headache but it seems to be too tangible to be one.


    ¡°See Melo, I told you she¡¯d get hurt if you peck at her.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Melo? Who is that?¡± I ask in confusion.


    ¡°Oh. She¡¯s been trying to wake you up for almost an hour now by chirping at your ears. The sound was so beautiful so... I thought... I¡¯d give her a name. Melo, like Melody.¡± Elara shyly explains.


    ¡°Hmm... To be honest, I did try to come up with a name last night, but nothing really hit me. I like it, and it seems to like it too. Right Melo?¡±


    Melo lifts its head and chirps happily before jumping out of her arms and landing on to my lap, nudging it¡¯s head on my belly. Its feathers tilt open as its head softly vibrates to the rhythm of its purr.


    ¡°You look to be awake now.¡± Gareth chimes in, crouched down by the flowing water. ¡°I thought it was best to let you sleep as long as you could, but I didn¡¯t think it would be this long.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I guess I needed more time to to recover from my Spirit exhaustion.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s alright. This room has proven to be quite safe, and it looks like we aren¡¯t too far from escaping this hellhole.¡±


    He points up towards a corner of the room. A fairly long beam of sunlight streams through the edge of one of the numerous cracks on the ceiling. The morning light shines bright and true. So that¡¯s why the room feels less suffocating.


    I stand up and head to freshen up at the spring. Gareth looks to have heated up some of the leftovers from last night.


    ¡°Elara, there¡¯s a metal box in my bag. Open it up.¡± I say pointing towards my satchel.


    She follows my direction to find the last two hard-tacks in the container.


    ¡°Should I toss them in to the boiling soup?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    Freshly rested, bellies filled, Spirit recovered, and confidence lifted. Gareth, his wounds now largely healed by my spell, pulls the wedged boxes away from the entrance. The boxes were fairly brittle and the uneven planks that made them had large gaps and holes in between. For all intents and purposes, we were exposed the whole night, yet as he pulled them away one by one, the oppressive air of the cavern seems to leak in, smothering me.


    With the last box removed, I turn back to call Elara. She stands at the end of the sunbeam, gazing up towards the gap as if it were the way out. Motes of dust dance around her shimmering blonde hair as she lifts her hands hands, as if to witness the warmness of the cave. She turns to me and smiles confidently.


    Re-entering the passageway we¡¯d escaped from the previous night, the daring trio stands huddled around my Light infused staff.


    ¡°So... which way?¡± Gareth begins.


    Elara is silent again. So it¡¯s time for me to chime in.


    ¡°The slope isn¡¯t very noticeable, but the path seems to go up towards the way we came from.¡±


    ¡°I see. Elara, I was passed out for the most part, did you notice anything while you were taking care of me back then?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Silence again. Gareth ponders for a moment before he starts to walk towards the crevice we¡¯d appeared from initially. Two steps in, he is stopped by a sudden chirp from Melo, who has been sitting on top of the satchel around my waist. It jumps up away from us towards the unexplored path, staring down the darkness as if it were the enemy itself.


    Gareth doubles back over and walks up, crouching down to pat it on the head. Melo¡¯s wing has now recovered and stretches firmly without the bandages.


    ¡°Alright little fellow, if you want us to go down there, we will.¡±


    He looks back over to us, gesturing to proceed. Elara pulls out her sword and takes her position behind me. The gentle slope continues downwards, as the cave narrows towards the end. The walls begin to taper, however it eventually straightens out to a rectangular hallway, too polished to be a natural formation. We remain silent, but the tension in the air confirms that the others have realized it as well.


    We finally reach the end. A fairly large stone door stands opened, its thick, single cut-out appearing too heavy for any single person to push. Gareth sneaks up to one side of it, peering in from behind the thick jutting rock frame.


    [


    ¡°No signs of movement. The chamber inside is quite large, and unlit so I can¡¯t see the further walls. The floor is smooth. the immediate walls seem to be flat as well so whatever is inside this room, is deliberate.¡± He reports.


    I hear Elara rummage through her bag behind me.


    ¡°Meer, light this for me.¡±


    I turn back and recite a cantrip that sparks a tiny zap from my fingertips, lighting the torch in her hand. Gareth formulates a plan.


    ¡°Meer walk at half my pace, and Elara at half of hers. We fight no matter the creature unless there is an actual horde inside. Let us say... a maximum of ten. If the enemies are on the ground, we¡¯ll taunt them into approaching us while we recoup our positions. If they¡¯re above us, we¡¯ll have to throw a torch at it to figure out what we¡¯re fighting. If we have to retreat, Elara make sure nothing gets to this door before we do.¡±


    I hear his words, but my eyes can¡¯t seem to look away from the darkness beyond the door. I feel like it¡¯s been an eternity since I¡¯d seen an open space. He takes out a smaller torch from his bag and lights it using the freshly lit one. The warm light casts hard shadows on his face, highlighting the multiple scars etched by the bitter battles he¡¯d endured throughout his life. His mouth opens to speak.


    ¡°Alright... Let¡¯s move.¡±

 A Budding Bad Habit

    The chamber is vast. The smooth wall curves gently into the darkness, indicating that the room is possibly circular in shape. The ceiling is beyond the reach of our lights. Gareth leads the way, his sword drawn, his head swivelling from side to side, poised to react in an instant. I gradually increase the output of Spirit on my Light spell, making sure there¡¯s a good few feet of visibility in front of him. Elara¡¯s footsteps, once right behind me has become distant.


    Gareth stops, his hand shooting quickly into the air signalling at us to do so as well. An almost imperceptible sizzle fills my ear.


    ¡°Light!¡± He calls out.


    I push as much spirit as I can into my spell. The line of sight shifts forward, revealing a wide empty floor, save for the long shadows of his poised form. At the brink of the spell¡¯s reach, the light starts reflecting off something high above in the distance. It starts off with two red orbs that multiply as my spell reaches its limit, revealing about a dozen in total. The orbs float, almost motionless, but when they do move, they shift perfectly in sync.


    We stare it down, waiting for the inevitable attack. A nerve rattling hiss fades in from the sizzle. The sound hangs in the air for a few seconds before Gareth finally initiates the battle.


    ¡°IT¡¯S TOO FAR! MEER, YOUR LIGHT! ELARA, INTO POSITION!¡±


    I rush towards Gareth, with the second pair of hurried footsteps confirming that Elara is doing the same. Our leader takes a few steps back towards me, an empty hand reaching out, calling for my staff. I fling it across the gap between us, the bright light shifting forward before settling into the warmness of the torch approaching from behind.


    The staff reaches it¡¯s mark as Gareth pushes further into his already coiled posture and with a strong pivot of his hips, flings the staff towards the orbs. The Light flings through the darkness, with the immense distance making it look slower than it actually is. The enemy is revealed for only a moment, but the details of a giant spider sitting on a thick throne of web is etched firmly into our minds.


    ¡°DAMN-IT! WE HAVE TO FIGHT IT UP CLOSE!¡± Gareth shouts.


    ¡°Meer, move forward. We¡¯ll have to group up and cover him!¡± Elara has closed the distance between us.


    Gareth begins to move towards the monster, with his pace allowing us to catch up to him. I feel my body trembling slightly. Surely the spider is horrifying, but I thought I would be used to the heat of battle by now. I look down to realize that it was Melo shaking in fear. It rests on my satchel with its small frame pushing into me, afraid of danger we face. When we finally regroup behind Gareth, I grab Melo and put it gently down on the ground behind us.


    ¡°Stay behind me, we¡¯ll get through this together.¡± I whispered to it.


    ¡°Meer can you bring it down closer to us?¡± Gareth asks.


    The staff lies on the ground beneath it, the light illuminating just the bottom of two hairy limbs that clutch it to the wall. The hissing continues uninterrupted.


    ¡°I¡¯ll try something.¡±


    I lift my arms towards the enemy, while crossing my thumbs around each other and join the sides of my index fingers. Chanting a Fireball spell, the Spirit flows out of my body twisting, and creeping it¡¯s way along my arm. The lack of a Staff will affect my control and accuracy, but the power output should still be the same. I just need to remain calm and know what I¡¯m aiming at. An idea springs into my mind.


    ¡°FIREBALL!¡±


    The Spirit sparks two small embers before the air erupts into a burst of flame that shoots up towards the floating eyes. The creature¡¯s face is once again illuminated as the spell shots past it¡¯s head and makes contact with the back of it¡¯s torso.


    The hissing turns into a screech as it reels from the pain and crawls down towards us. The explosion meanwhile propels shards of ember shrapnel to the  webs, causing the wall to ignite in flames as the fire spreads far along the sides and up the chamber walls. The room is now brightly lit by the silk chandelier, revealing a giant circular chamber devoid of anything other than a few structural pillars. The creature towers above us, more than twice Gareth''s height and possibly even taller than us three combined. Its hairy shell is covered by long vine-like bundles of hair that crisscross around its giant frame.


    ¡°If there¡¯s a spider, there must be spiderlings. We fight the mother, but be wary of anything falling from the sky.¡± Gareth warns.


    Elara holsters her sword and reaches back to unhook the spear. I whisper a mix of enchantments as they charge at it. The smell of burnt follicles fill the air as I hear Melo fearfully chirping behind me. Gareth is the first to lunge at the enemy, his sword clashing against a frontal limb. Its hair seem to be quite impervious to slashes, and we don¡¯t even know how tough the cuticle may be.


    I extend my arms again, thumbs still intertwined however this time, I point my index fingers individually at my allies. Two streams of Spirit shoot out and into them enhancing them with both Swift and Protection. The effects of the spells will be diminished, but I need to be frugal with my pool of Spirit. This will be a tough battle.


    The fight rages on. A dance of blades and pole-arm against its two long, and claw tipped pedipalps. Elara¡¯s spear looks to be more effective at piercing the knotted locks that cover the spider, with its limbs reeling back in pain when she does manage to get a good hit in. My staff lies on the ground next to a hind leg, the Light spell almost extinguished.


    ¡°I need to get to my staff! It¡¯s on the right¡± I shout.


    The fire rages on above, now extending back high above the door we¡¯d entered from. Small bundles of webs fall from the darkness beyond, lit up by the remnants of the larger flame, resembling fireflies descending onto a pond.


    ¡°Elara get under it, I¡¯ll cover you.¡± Gareth commands.


    He dashes towards her as she lunges forward. Their Swift enchanted bodies dance around the enemy¡¯s attack as Gareth slashes at any and all limbs making an attempt to strike at her. Elara hops onto a protruding slab of stone, using it to propel her to its exposed underbelly.


    It¡¯s hard to make out what happened from my position, but the subsequent screech was the loudest I¡¯d heard yet, confirming the success of the maneuver. The spider leaps back, taking Elara with it for a moment as she clings on to the spear, wedged in the wound. The weapon dislodges mid air as she falls several feet towards the protruding rocks beneath. Gareth drops his sword and leaps forward, managing to grab her. However it leaves them open to a vicious counter attack.


    The spider lashes out in retaliation, an attack that is barely guarded by Gareth as he lifts he arms in defence. The impact of its attack is only mitigated by the fact that it has climbed too far up to reach them effectively. Still the claw at the tip of its spindly limb shatters the metal plate on his forearm. The monster backs up against the slowly ascending inferno.


    Taking the opportunity, I sprint for my staff, with my position now mostly falling in its blind spot. I reckon at least an eight out of twelve. I grab it and close my eyes to concentrate on my chant. Lightning Bolt is what I need to pull it back down, but it¡¯s too big. I can¡¯t just shoot it and hope for the best.


    The spell is ready and I open my eyes to see Gareth down on the ground, clutching his arm in pain. Elara stands in between them, now poised to defend against any attack with her spear. The monster stands ready to strike as well, its two front limbs hanging high above it¡¯s body ready to pounce, yet it seems to hesitate. Perhaps her stabs have been more effective than I thought.


    ¡°Legs... Hmm... That¡¯s it!¡± I think to myself


    I clutch my staff and channel as much Spirit as I can into it. I feel my connection to the Feather in my satchel manifest. It¡¯s more of a gamble than I like, but it is best chance at winning.


    ¡°Lightning Bolt!¡± I cast the spell.


    A charge of lightning forms at the tip of my staff as I desperately try to control the flow of Spirit running through it. I visualize the stream splitting into tributaries as the central ball of lightning bursts into six charged bolts.


    The individual bolts race towards the giant target, splitting mid flight and homing in on the six legs which anchor it to the wall. My heart skips a beat as, one by one they make contact. I rush to count them; one, two, three, four, five. The sixth bolt disappears behind its enormous body, as my position makes it difficult to make out its exact location. But the answer is clear. I missed.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Another screech fills the chamber. The spider starts to slide down, as I catch sight of the last leg stretched out behind it, still desperately trying to cling to the wall. The giant body pivots sideways as it swings mid air, searching for its centre of gravity but with only one leg to anchor itself, it¡¯s meaningless.


    A loud SNAP echoes through the room followed by another, and then a drawn out stretch before a final CRACK fills the air as it falls to the ground on its back. The hind leg now ripped away from its body, still stuck to the wall. A translucent liquid spurts out from its wound onto the nearby rocks.


    The lightning has temporarily paralyzed its legs, yet still it squirms relentlessly trying to turn itself upright. Elara takes the opportunity to lunge forward and attack, but the monster uses its upturned pedipalps to fend her off. The position is awkward for both the combatants, yet this is the best opportunity we¡¯ve had till now.


    I need to do something, however I doubt I have the Spirit to cast any more offensive spells. With no choice, I start chanting a dubious chant. It¡¯s not something I have ample experience with, but considering the situation, it¡¯s all I can do.


    As my lips recite the incantation, I watch as the spider regains control of the five remaining hind legs. It pushes two against an extended section of the wall, swinging its body back upright. Gareth has calmed down and reaches to grab his sword.


    ¡°Strength.¡±


    I shoot a projectile of energy at Elara, the make of which is visually different from the usual. Upon making contact, her muscles tense up, growing larger to push out her usually slender frame against the tightened straps and metal pads of her armour. The spider lunges out in a painful frenzy, recommencing the battle. Gareth joins the fray, flanking the enemy from the left as they slowly push it back against the wall.


    Its movement is quite sluggish, clearly still suffering from the after-effects of my spell, yet the attacks remain quick and vicious. Gareth is struggling to keep up, with his sword now held on his off-hand, and the effects of my initial enchantments having dissipated. The rapid strikes of its claws are relentless as they fend off both my allies individually. As the melee reaches its peak, the spider reels up both limbs, before descending in a ferocious attack. Elara is able to dodge, however Gareth; barely able to defend against it with his sword, is now pinned down kneeling on the ground. His sword locked against the similarly sized, jagged claw.


    Elara tries to rush to his aid, but is pushed back by a series of persistent strikes. I stare helplessly at the battle, completely out of Spirit.


    "I need to create an opening for them, but how?" I ponder as a series of possible actions race through my mind.


    A flutter of feathers slice through the haze, followed by a light blow against my stomach. I look down to see Melo perched on my bag and chirping fervently at me. The flow of energy from the Feather is stronger. I sense a tiny pool of Spirit rekindle in me, along with something that feels a distinctly different. Is Melo acting as a catalyst for this... power?


    ¡°I guess I have to just go for it huh?¡± I seem to be making a habit of one-sided conversations.


    Dashing towards my allies, I start the chant. It¡¯s too risky to fire an offensive spell with them so close to my target, so I get into position right behind Elara, lift my staff and say a silent prayer.


    ¡°I know we¡¯ve always been at odds and I pretty much forced you to give me your blessings, but just this one time as a Greater Spirit; Kronos, please let it work.¡°


    ¡°FLASH!¡± I shout.


    A burst of white light erupts across the chamber and I¡¯ve remembered to close my eyes this time. The light feels warm and comforting against my face, as I realize that the little amount of Spirit flowing out of me is the last I have in my body. I¡¯m forming another bad habit.


    Opening my eyes, I see the next few seconds of actions unfold in a blur. The monster has reeled back, clearly dazed, and blinded by the light. Gareth pushes the limb suppressing him aside causing the spider to stagger, and lose balance as it pivots against a missing limb. I hear him shout something, but I can¡¯t quite make out what it is. However, they move perfectly in sync, with him dashing across her and slashing at the nearest leg, causing it to further tumble.


    Elara slides in beneath the stumbling enemy, her knees bent and body coiled, the spear pointing upwards to make the final strike. With the enchantment still in effect, my line of sight is cut off by the spider¡¯s giant head as she extends and launches herself into its underbelly.


    The sound of cracking chitin is unmistakable, as the sheer force of her attack lifts the monster into the air, flipping it forward. Both Gareth and I look on in awe as Elara, now kneeling on top of the toppled enemy, clutches the haft with her whitened fists. Pushing it downwards into the body of the hapless creature, the chamber echoes with the squishes and splashes of organs and guts being mangled. With more of the translucent slime being ejected out of its orifices, while accompanied by the final screech of the dying creature.


    It takes a few seconds for the visceral scream to end, now replaced by Elara¡¯s scream of victory, raging like the flames above. She lifts her spear and once more thrusts it downwards into the fresh carcass. The seven remaining limbs now crumple inwards, shaking sporadically as she continues to relentlessly pull back and strike into the hapless victim again, and again. I look on, speechless.


    ¡°THAT¡¯S ENOUGH!¡± Gareth shouts.


    The feverish assault stops. All that remains now is her guttural gasps of air, and the steady burning of flames above. Elara lets go of her spear which remains standing upright, its tip firmly embedded into the flesh of the corpse.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Yes. I think... I am.¡± She replies. Her hands look to be trembling but her breathing has calmed down. The spell subsides.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you come on down here first and we can figure out what to do next.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    Gareth approaches the lifeless body as Elara jumps down, stumbling upon her landing. He catches her hand and steadies her by the shoulder, helping her find firm footing on the ground. He lets out a slight wince of pain. The damage on his arm is evident. Elara still appears to be tingling from the rush of battle. We give her a moment to catch her breath before he asks.


    ¡°Were you scared?¡±


    ¡°No... I felt, invincible.¡±

 Flurry of Leaves

    The room feels dimmer than it did a few minutes ago. The inferno above has been slowly travelling upwards by the minute. We stand around the carcass of a giant spider; freshly slain, and already reeking of rotting bile and guts. Elara stares up at the summit with the haft of her spear still poking out like a flag atop a princess''s tower.


    ¡°Hmm... I wonder what this thing ate to grow so big.¡± Gareth begins the post-battle dialogue.


    I open my mouth to reply but am swiftly cut off by Elara.


    ¡°Don¡¯t... answer. It¡¯s a thing he does.¡± She looks annoyed. ¡°He¡¯s got a soft spot for weird creatures. Especially giant... things.¡±


    Gareth walks around the corpse, inspecting every nook and cranny as Elara begins to climb up using the thicker follicles on its body. I carefully pet Melo, who seems to have calmed down yet is clearly still wary of the dead creature.


    ¡°I am surprised we didn¡¯t get ambushed by hundreds of it¡¯s off-springs.¡± Gareth wonders aloud.


    ¡°Well it can¡¯t be a mother if there¡¯s no father after all.¡± Elara answers from her precarious position.


    ¡°Some species of spiders can reproduce asexually.¡± He chimes back.


    ¡°And which species have twelve eyes?¡±


    ¡°Good point.¡±


    The scene plays out quite naturally. I assume this is just how it is when they aren¡¯t running for their lives. I¡¯m hesitant to break into the conversation, but my curiosity gets the better of me.


    ¡°Have you fought against giant spiders before?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Giant? Yes-Hmph! But compared to those... this is a colossus.¡° She replies. Her voice strained from trying to reach for a large clump of hair off the side.


    ¡°The largest we¡¯ve ever reported was about half my height.¡± Gareth explains, gauging the height of the would-be giant with his hand at hip level. The slosh and squelch of his boots send a jolt along my spine as he strides casually into the puddle of ¡°blood¡±.


    ¡°How did you know that this was a female?¡± I pick a question out of the dozen racing through my mind.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t. The females in most species tend to be larger than their male counter-part. You could say it was more of a hopeful comment than an observation.¡± He replies, without so much as looking away from the carcass.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you tend your wound? Maybe you¡¯ve been poisoned.¡± I ask. In hindsight, this should¡¯ve been the first question I¡¯d asked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. The size of its fangs are relatively small compared to the head so it¡¯s probably not venomous. Also, claws do not inject, nor are they usually coated in venom.¡±


    I decide to remain silent. The gap between the knowledge gained from hearing stories and actually facing creatures in battle is too embarrassing.


    ¡°The spear is stuck firmly in it. Gareth! Can you give me a hand?¡±  Elara¡¯s voice comes down from above. Her tone is cold and stoic. I guess it takes a while for them to get out of ¡®battle-mode¡¯.


    He ascends the body just as she had. Taking a closer look at the monster¡¯s head, I notice something odd about its eyes. The two eyes at the top of the columns are different from the rest. It was hard to make out from afar, but they seem to jut out a few inches from its face. I reach out and touch it to find the texture dry and cold, almost like a smooth rock or crystal unlike the rest which clearly have the moist shine of fluid inside them.


    ¡°Hey Gareth!¡± I shout.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°If not twelve, are there any spiders that have ten eyes?¡±


    I hear a combined grunt followed by the slight tremor of the carcass. They must¡¯ve freed the spear.


    ¡°No, just eight. Of course it can vary. I¡¯ve even met some that had an odd amount, but it is always lower. Not higher.¡±


    Melo flies off my satchel and up to my companions.


    The tips of my fingers feel cool upon touching the ¡°eye¡± and the temperature continues to slowly drop as if it were siphoning my energy right out of me, reminding me that I am completely out of Spirit. However my body feels decent and without fatigue, a stark difference from my previous experience, as well as the ageless warning for all mages. Truly the sign of a budding bad habit. I remove my hand from the crystal, a little shaken but unaffected, apart from a slight tightness in my chest.


    ¡°Alright, that should be enough for now. Let us take a look around the chamber for a way out.¡± Gareth says as he slides down the side of the body to the ground.


    ¡°Eww... Melo don¡¯t eat that! I can¡¯t watch this!¡± Elara shouts as she flings herself off the side, with Gareth once again catching her before she hits the ground. He seems to avoid using his injured arm. I can barely hear it, but Melo seems to be nibbling on the spider¡¯s organs.


    We decide to split up, with Gareth covering one half and Elara, and I taking the other. She grabs the torch she had wedged in between a crack on a platform. My inability to conjure even a Light spell makes me feel truly useless for the first time.


    It takes a while to cover all the corners of the room, but eventually we regroup to confirm that the room is indeed empty. With Gareth having come across the only new discovery. A flight of stairs leading up in to the darkness.


    The staircase is fairly wide. The frame is similar to the other door we had entered from, consisting of large, thick rocks however this one had sigils carved all along them.


    ¡°It seems to be from the same language as the ones we found earlier.¡± I exclaim. ¡°I think I recognize a few individual sigils, but the groupings are different.¡±


    Gareth hands me his torch as he pulls out the cloth and coal from his bag. He proceeds to write down as much of it as he can. The ¡°manuscript¡± is rough and messy, but I doubt any of us are dying to complain about it.


    ¡°I think I know which sect this belongs to.¡± He says as he raises his hand to point at one grouping of sigils on the stone. ¡°I¡¯ve seen this ¡°word¡± before. It means ¡®heal¡¯ in the language of the Void sect. I do not remember the name of the language at the moment. The Captain can probably figure it out for us once we get back.¡±


    I¡¯m glad to know I¡¯m not the only one feeling hopeful about making it back to town.


    Elara, who had been too impatient to sit still, comes back down from further up the stairway quite excited.


    ¡°I think this is the way out! The top of the stairwell is covered by a solid trapdoor but I can make out faint bits of light on the other side.¡±


    We walk up together to find a fairly old wooden hatch standing between us and freedom. Small cracks are noticeable as strands of light can be seen behind them at certain angles. Gareth pushes up a shoulder on the left end of the door.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Alright, Elara go up one step on that end and we push on three. One... two... THREE!¡±


    A satisfying creak of the hinges echo down the stairs. The sound of rustling leaves and falling stones can be heard on the other side of the hatch as tiny pebbles pour down into the now widening exit. My two companions take a few steps up to the lip of the opening as a final heave of the door pushes it fully open. The beams of light shine timidly through a screen of vines and foliage in front of us.


    ¡°I think I know where we are. Although, I wouldn¡¯t mind being wrong.¡± Gareth says.


    Elara turns back to offer their hands out to me, pulling me up the ledge to a thicket of vines covering most of the sunlight. Gareth walks up to it and sneaks a peak through the tangled leaves.


    ¡°Close your eyes girls, it will be bright.¡± He says as he push the foliage aside.


    The darkness of my closed eyes turn a slight red hue as the warmth of the afternoon sun ripples across my skin. I open my eyes to see a vast valley of trees spread out in front of us. The forest is tall and endless, with the receding hills seemingly beckoning us towards the horizon. I would say that the forest is much like any other apart from one obvious detail.


    Scattered around the usual green are sporadic bundles of pink leaves. These puddles of colour seem to grow more frequent as it goes deeper into the valley and along the hills, with the horizon being completely shrouded in a sort of soft blush pink. The view is beautiful however there is an air of eeriness around us.


    ¡°This is not good. I did not realize that we¡¯d gotten so deep into the mountains.¡± Gareth exclaims.


    ¡°Is this-¡± I hesitate to ask but Elara confirms my suspicion.


    ¡°The Whispering Woods. We are on the other side of the mountain range.¡±


    Gareth takes a deep breath and takes a moment to think before speaking again.


    ¡°Alright, not to worry. We are still surrounded by green foliage, so we must be only at the cusp of the forest. Honestly, I am surprised that there is such a large area of uhm... ¡®normal¡¯ forest, before the Woods. The one good thing about the Whispering Woods is that it is easy to walk the other way.¡± He says.


    Melo jumps off my bag and flies up to a sunlit branch. It unfolds its wings against the light and shakes its body, enjoying a quick bath in the sun. A joyous chirp fill the air as I finally realize what I¡¯ve been feeling.


    ¡°Is it just me or is it... too quiet?¡± I ask. Gareth looks at Elara as if signalling her to answer.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s too early for-¡± Her answer is cut off by a disapproving grunt from Gareth. She closes her eyes and scrunches up her frow, ruminating heavily in her mind before she begins again.


    ¡°Alright, but if anything happens, you¡¯ll have to make the report to the Village Elder.¡± She shoots an annoyed look at him and continues, ¡°So the Woods is not a regular forest... obviously. Of course anything that has to do with the Edge of the World is not ¡®normal¡¯, but since this is the last bastion before reaching it, the Whispering Woods has; probably, the most mysterious properties out of any place on earth.¡±


    Elara goes on a fairly long rant about the limited information known about the Woods. I spent half the time listening to her diligently and the other half gazing over the silent valley. Gareth remained silent and attentive to her lecture as well. All in all I can summarize them into a handful of points.


    <ol>


    <li>


    The Whispering Woods consists of only a single species of tree with white bark and pink foliage. There are no other shrubs, herbs or grass in the area proper.


    </li>


    <li>


    There are no water bodies, nor does it rain inside the Woods.


    </li>


    <li>


    There are no animals nor insects. Monsters do not roam the forest either.


    </li>


    <li>


    The various phenomenon are often attributed to stories of the Edge of the World being linked to either the Land of the Dead or some other supernatural realm.


    </li>


    <li>


    The link to the Land of the Dead is said to cause spirits to manifest and talk to unwary trespassers, which is where the name comes from.


    </li>


    <li>


    Magic users have their Spirit slowly sucked out of their body while they are in the Woods which leads to extreme fatigue and eventually, death. While non-magic influenced people feel a burst of energy that often result in mania and hysteria. This phenomenon gradually increases as you get deeper into the Woods.


    </li>


    <li>


    Information about the Woods are kept secret in order to discourage adventurers from venturing in. While it is conveyed as being a well-meaning protocol, the result is that anyone venturing unprepared into the Woods is almost sure to succumb to either these or one of its many other undocumented oddities.


    </li>


    </ol>


    ¡°... The trees are said to be an amalgamation of different classifications. The bark most resembling a Maple tree, but unlike the usual deciduous tree, the roots do not spread out into the soil; instead, they shoot straight down in a thick column, suggesting a structural, rather than nutritional function. You would think the pink parts are flowers but actually they are leaves which-¡±


    ¡°Alright! I think she¡¯s gotten the important information. Thank you Elara.¡± Gareth halts the parade of knowledge. Her eyes widens to a look of slight embarrassment, as she seems to realize how far she had trailed off. Apparently they are both obsessed with fantastical discoveries. One flora, and the other fauna. They truly are two sides of the same coin.


    The soft flutter of wings fills the air as Melo gracefully circles around the canopy.


    ¡°Thank you Elara, I actually thought that was very interesting.¡± I try to console her. ¡°And you¡¯ve helped me figure out the reason for this uneasiness I¡¯ve been feeling. I¡¯ve never been in a soundless forest before.¡±


    Looking up at Melo float slowly through the air, I remark, ¡°The lack of living beings is one thing, but also... there is no wind.¡±


    They look at me in confusion. I see Elara¡¯s gaze fall towards the long locks of hair hanging stagnant against my arms and shoulder.


    ¡°Hmm...¡± Gareth mulls it over for a moment. ¡°I see. I¡¯ll put this down in the report. Lets just say that Elara made a casual observation.¡±


    Elara stares silently, most likely combing through all the information in her head. Melo finally flies down and sits atop her bag, chirping at me. It seems to be more chattier than ever.


    ¡°That is enough discussion for now. Let us make our way up this hill and scout our way back. If we are lucky, it might only be a few hours to Stren.¡± Gareth says.


    He shuts the drapery of vines behind us, hiding the hatch we¡¯d come out of. Commencing the trek uphill, I remain hopeful to see signs of a path back to town. Melo has returned to the higher branches, leaping excitedly from one to the next. The forest is fairly open, with the trees spaced far enough to provide a view of what lies ahead, and what does lie ahead was a subject of our previous conversation; white bark, and pink leaves.

 Homecoming

    ¡°Wow. It¡¯s... whiter, than I thought it would be.¡±


    Elara turns back towards us, her face shining brighter than a bonfire. She had run up, far too quick for Gareth and I to react.


    ¡°Careful girl. Don¡¯t touch it.¡± Gareth warns as he glances around the area. ¡°This seems to be the only one around here. But let¡¯s not take our safety for granted.¡±


    The tree looks strangely smooth with no warts or cracks on the surface, and very minimal wooden texture compared to the Maples in the central region. The leaves dance silently in the gentle breeze that has started to roll in from further up the hill. We hear Elara mumbling to herself as we approach her.


    ¡°Hmm... The bark is smooth, but it¡¯s too tall to be a young tree. There are no exposed roots nor are there any bulges either so it is true...¡±


    She mutters on. With Gareth shooting me a look of defeat, signalling a brief pause in our travel. Looking up, I see Melo perched on top of a branch of the mystical tree. It starts chattering into the air. I turn to Gareth to strike up a conversation.


    ¡°It¡¯s great to be out in the sun. I didn¡¯t think one day underground would have such a-¡±


    I stop mid-sentence, startled by the expression on his face. His face is serious and intense, his piercing stare cutting past me. But before I turn to look at the source of his unease, a voice echoes inside my mind.


    ¡°RUN!¡±


    The voice is contorted but resembles that of a young girl.


    ¡°Run fast! It¡¯s here!¡±


    I turn to Elara to see her knelt on the ground, puking her guts out. I hadn¡¯t noticed it, but I can barely hear the noise around me. My stomach starts to churn as a pressure builds in my head. I fall to my knees as well, belching and gasping. I hear Gareth¡¯s voice but my mind is too heavy to make sense of it all, although Melo¡¯s frenzied chirping is distinct enough to identify.


    ¡°Tell Gareth to start running!¡± The voice continues in my head.


    I can¡¯t take the pain any more and keel over sideways with the acid gagging my throat. I start to vomit. I feel a hand grab me by the collar, frantically tugging me upwards. Bracing my feet against the ground, I push myself up to see Gareth desperately trying to pull both Elara and I. The cacophony in my mind is deafening. His feral shouting, Melo¡¯s sharp chirps, the voice in my head, and now, a new sound unlike anything I¡¯ve ever heard before. It resonates like a thunderous voice yet it¡¯s nothing a human being could ever produce. I can almost make sense of it, but the pain stalls my concentration.


    ¡°God damn it Elara! Move those feet!¡± My ears finally tune into Gareth¡¯s voice.


    I start shuffling towards him, praying that I don¡¯t slip. I try to focus my eyes but it¡¯s useless. All I see are our limbs flailing wildly, surrounded by a flurry of leaves swept up by a strong gust of wind. I hear Melo¡¯s chirps slowly moving ahead of us, beckoning us to refuge.


    ¡°Meer! Meer! Can you hear me?¡± Gareth ask. His voice is heavy and distraught.


    ¡°I- I can hear yo-¡± My sentence is cut short by another belch, as I let out a chunk of barf. We make a quick halt.


    ¡°Good, I need you to reel in your staff. I can¡¯t pull you both while that latches on to everything around us.¡±


    I take a deep breath, hoping to gather my senses. Looking up, I see Gareth staring down the direction we¡¯d come from. His features look grim and fearful, it¡¯s the first time I¡¯d seen him so. We continue running for what feels like an eternity before we finally halt at a clearing. He lets go of us, standing exhausted while gripping his forearm. The injury he¡¯d sustained is clearly still troubling him.


    ¡°Gareth? Are you there? where are we? Why is it so dark?¡± Elara reaches around her, disoriented.


    ¡°Over here Elara.¡± He replies.


    ¡°GARETH? MEER?¡± Her voice grows more distraught.


    ¡°We¡¯re both here.¡± Gareth says quickly grabs her hands, which startles her. She yelps in surprise, yet he continues holding them between his rough, calloused palms as he gently rubs them. It calms her down. Elara¡¯s eyes stare vacantly into his chest.


    ¡°Elara are you alright?¡± I ask. She doesn¡¯t respond so I try again. ¡°Elara are y-¡±


    ¡°Is Meer here too?¡± She cuts me off. It¡¯s clear that she can¡¯t hear us either.


    I walk up and carefully grab her forearm, which seems to calm her down. I look at Gareth helplessly, however his attention is still directed towards the unknown pursuer.


    ¡°What was that behind us?¡± I ask.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He instantly replies.


    ¡°Was it a monster?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°A human?¡±


    ¡°I think... I... I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Whatever it was. It clearly rattled him to his core. I look back only to see the empty forest stretched out in front of us. Melo¡¯s chirping rings out from behind the trees.


    ¡°We should keep moving.¡± Gareth says, as he bends down to gently lift up Elara over his shoulders. Clearly shaken, Elara feels around his shoulder before settling into a comfortable position.


    We start the hike again with brisk, and hurried strides. I peer over my shoulder every few seconds, hoping to catch a glimpse of our stalker but to no success. Eventually we make our way to Melo who is now standing atop a large boulder. Its intermittent cries has guided us to a cliff overlooking the mountain pass.


    Elara has passed out, or at least I suppose she has. Her chest rises and falls slowly which, at the very least, is a good sign. I have mostly recovered my bearings apart from a rush of giddiness that pops up from time to time. My Spirit has partially recovered as well, enough to cast a Heal on his arm, which I do. Gareth gently lowers Elara to the ground, carefully propping her up against the boulder as he scans the landscape. The evening sun hangs well above the peaks on the horizon.


    ¡°There.¡± He points towards a summit. ¡°Those two peaks on the south-west are visible from our town. It is difficult to make an assumption, but if I were allowed to be optimistic, I¡¯d say we can cover this pass by night and be home by sunrise.¡±


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    He looks over to Elara, perhaps hoping to see her relieved by the news, but unfortunately, she does not stir.


    ¡°Do you need to rest?¡± I ask. Though it may be unconscious, he still rubs his forearm.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I may be old, but I¡¯m spry enough to complete a trek as simple as this.¡±


    I shoot him a worried glance which appears to persuade him as he lets out a sigh of defeat.


    ¡°You know, Elara¡¯s constant nagging never gets to me, but when my wife gives me those same pitiful eyes...¡± He pauses for a moment before continuing, ¡°We can recuperate down there by the stream in the col. I¡¯ve never been this far upstream myself, but the mountain pass is known to be relatively safe from monsters.¡± He bends down and puts a palm on Elara¡¯s face, checking to ensure she¡¯s alright before lifting her up again.


    The stream is clear and cool. I fill up our water-skins while Gareth lays Elara down on a flat bed of pebbles, placing a bag underneath her head for support. I assume we won¡¯t be staying put for too long, but the landscape is a nice change of pace. Especially considering the unfortunate situation we find ourselves in.


    ¡°The water access is nice, but are you sure it¡¯s a good idea to travel out in the open like this?¡¯ I ask. He takes a swig of water before answering.


    ¡°Yes it is. Apart from it being easier on the body, the lack of wildlife has made the area devoid of any monsters. This stream runs for hundreds of miles up the mountain range and we¡¯re in the section that is closest to the Whispering Woods, so there are no fish till it meanders further away. And it is the same down stream as well for a good distance past Stren.¡±


    ¡°So Stren sustains itself only on its farmland?¡±


    ¡°Well, we¡¯ve been able to trade in some livestock but overall, yes. No hunting or fishing. So you can understand why this goblin issue is a big problem for the town.¡±


    ¡®Do you really think we will make it back by morning?¡±


    ¡°To be honest, I think we will. We did not travel as far as I assumed we did initially.¡±


    The answer is frank, however he falls into a contemplative silence right after. In the midst of our conversation, Elara begins to sit up. Gareth rushes to her side, a half filled water-skin in hand. He gently puts his hand on her back to help her up.


    ¡°Elara. Can you hear me?¡± He snaps his fingers near her face, hoping for a reaction.


    ¡°I see...¡± Her voice is raspy and parched. She reaches her hands out clumsily to his. ¡°Everything is blurry but I see light... and a shadow move.¡± She grabs it.


    ¡°That¡¯s good. You can-¡±


    ¡°Is that you Gareth? Everything sounds muffled. I can¡¯t make out your voice. Thirsty. I need water.¡±


    He passes the water-skin to me, and grabs her hand as he had done before, gently rubbing them which soothes her. I slowly guide the open mouth of the water skin to her mouth, tilting the water over slowly.


    ¡°Thank goodness. Hopefully she will make a full recovery. This is why we don¡¯t venture out towards the Woods.¡± Gareth says.


    I remain silent.


    The rest is short but rewarding. Elara has, quite quickly really, adjusted to her tentative condition. She makes out the babbling of the stream nearby and asks if we can help her to the river to wash her face and rinse her mouth. Which I do. Gareth rummages through their bags, making sure nothing had been lost during the escape. Every few seconds, I see him peer over towards the cliff  we¡¯d come down from. Likely hoping to see the forest empty.


    The journey back is arduous, yet peaceful. Gareth, to his credit, hasn¡¯t slowed down at all even while carrying her for almost two hours straight. I refrain from beginning a conversation. I don¡¯t want him to spend any more energy than he needs to.


    ¡°I think, I can see Meer. Are you holding your Staff on your left hand?¡± Elara breaks the silence.


    ¡°Yes I am.¡± I respond, but she does not seem to hear me so I stretch out my arm and flap it vigorously. She lets out a soft giggle. Gareth looks relieved to see her condition improve. The sunset begins as I conjure up a Light spell.


    We¡¯ve been walking for about five to six hours with little breaks in between and we¡¯ve finally gotten around the designated hill. The bright light of the town is visible behind the saddle of the further foothills.


    Elara¡¯s condition has improved enough for her to discern whose voice may be talking around her, but not yet enough to make out the words being spoken. She keeps her eyes closed for the most part, and even when they are open, her eyes don¡¯t lock on to anything in particular. Melo had finally decided to descend from the treetops and now sleeps on my satchel, clearly tired from the events of the day.


    ¡°Meer, I need you to do something for me.¡± Gareth starts. His voice is calm but serious. ¡°As we¡¯ve mentioned before, this expedition is not very... official. I¡¯ll need you to take care of Elara at the guard house for tonight while I brief our Captain and the Elder in secret. Most of all, I don¡¯t want her Father to see her in this condition. It may take a few days for her to recover, but I request that you stay with her till then.¡±


    ¡°Mm-hmm.¡± I agree but fail to push words out of my mouth.


    ¡°We¡¯ll go round the town wall and enter through an open area in the back.¡±


    ¡°Mm-hmm.¡±


    ¡°Now that I think about it, there is an empty house on the east side of town. It used to be a stable, so it isn¡¯t the ideal, but I bet you could spiff it up. I¡¯ll take a look into it.¡±


    ¡°Mm-hmm.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how long you¡¯ll stay with us, but I truly hope you will at least stay for the winter. Also, thank you for going through this with us.¡±


    ¡°Mm-hmm.¡±


    The forest is pitch black, save for my spell, and its reflection in the tears on my face.

 Mild Mannered

    - Chapter 11 -


    As sunrise peeks over the shorter hills, the light glances off the crest of a large wooden wall, revealing the wear and tear caused by time, weather, and the occasional battle. We finally make our way around the town wall with Gareth eyeing a particular open corner to enter through. He walks wearily, carrying a sleeping Elara on his back, the scene bringing back memories of my father carrying me across the grasslands in childhood days. I hear distant voices and rustling sounds of work coming from far down the inner path. The town is awake.


    ¡°Damn. I had hoped to see Gram stationed here.¡± Gareth clicks his tongue.


    I peer around the corner to see Sola standing restlessly behind a fence. His eyes look fresher than when last we¡¯d met.


    ¡°Is it an issue for him to spot us?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Not particularly. However, his elder brother is more reliable in situations like these.¡±


    He drops Elara down gently against the wall only to shake her harshly awake, covering her mouth before she can yelp in confusion. Melo purrs inquisitively from its perch on my bag as Elara stands up tremulously. He presses a finger on her lips signalling for her to be quiet.


    ¡°Here take her hand and, run over to that alley as soon as the guard leaves his post.¡± Gareth says, handing me her trembling arm with his other stroking atop her head to calm her down. He makes his way to and down the formal path, nonchalantly turning to the young man who now stands in attention.


    Their conversation is beyond earshot, but eventually the guard does an about-turn and make his way into town. I guide Elara across to a dirty alley and we wait in the shadows. Gareth takes a short while but eventually joins us as we proceed down the winding alleys between a mishmash of old and new buildings, before popping out from the thicket behind the guard¡¯s outhouse. We enter through the same door as I had three days earlier. The room remains unchanged.


    ¡°There is a flight of stairs on the left after the door there. Quietly now, go up and three doors down on the right at the end of the hall is the guest room. Lock the door after you enter. Also, here. Slip this under the second door on the left.¡± Gareth says as he hands me an envelope with a symbol on it. He barely gives me time to acknowledge his words before leaving to follow up with the Town Elder. I fear peering back at him will rob me of the little courage I have left so I begin to move forward.


    The main lobby is devoid of life. I assume most guards would be stationed around the walls during such times. The lack of any weapons on the racks that adorn the corners of the room confirm my suspicions. The large double-door that serves as the main entrance to the building remains unopened. I follow the little instructions I¡¯d been given and make my way up the stairs. The building is old and while the wooden planks hold firm under my feet, the occasional creak slips out of the corners after every few steps.


    Elara walks steadily as I guide her with one hand supporting her back. While her eyesight has yet to recover completely, she seems to be aware of the space in front of her. The sunlight peering out of the large ventilation gaps atop the left hand wall illuminate the otherwise cramped stairwell. Melo lets out a soft chirp and I shush it firmly. Though I doubt our situation borders on treason, I¡¯d rather not find myself having to explain everything to the town guards.


    We finally reach the second door on the left and I pause. The sound of objects being moved erratically resonate through the door, and after a few seconds I hear and feel the weight of footsteps being added in to the mix. I gaze uponthe plaque nailed to the wooden door and whisper out the written words.


    ¡°Captain H. Aleric¡±


    I swallow nervously and bend down, slipping the letter under the door. The cracks on the uneven wood cause the corners of the envelope to crinkle as I push it in. By the time I stand up, the ruckus has ended and the room falls silent. We quickly continue to move to the end of the hallway and enter the guest room. I am cautious about making any sounds and manage to lock the door behind us with relative silence.


    A few hours pass. Elara lies on the double bed, her eyes open yet staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Melo has taken its place on the further side of the bed. Hopefully its talons do not scuff the beddings. My mind is in shambles with the worries, and confusion of everything we¡¯ve had and still need to face.


    ¡°Meer?¡± Elara¡¯s voice pulls me back to the present.


    ¡°Yes! it¡¯s me.¡± I lean in close to her ear and whisper as clearly as I can.


    Her brows furrow deeply as she falls into heavy contemplation. Suddenly, my ears confirm the presence of people, and their commotion downstairs. I¡¯d been too worried about what we were going to do next that I¡¯d forgotten how hungry and thirsty I¡¯d been this whole time. I reach over to the flagon on the table and pour an excessive amount of water into my mouth. Struggling to keep it all in, I swallow vigorously only to realize how flat and stale it is. Surely, it has been lying here for a few days. Elara¡¯s voice picks up again.


    ¡°Yes... It¡¯s... Me?¡± She echoes my sentence.


    I almost scream out in joy but catch myself, opting to instead grab her hand and shake it vigorously in elated confirmation. She smiles the first smile of the morning.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll be alright.¡± She says. Her head turning back towards the ceiling, and her eyes looking more focused.


    Another hour passes. The rumblings of feet underneath the room continue. Finally, a pair of footsteps break away from the group and grow louder before finding itself right outside our door. Four firm knocks rattle the latch. I sheepishly walk over to open it. My heart knows that I¡¯m not in any trouble, yet my mind is dead set on throwing myself out the open window. I unlatch the door.


    It opens slowly to reveal Gareth standing there. His face is serious and intense. He walks in and stands besides the bed looking down at the sleeping swordsman. Melo whimpers in acknowledgement of his presence.


    ¡°How is she?¡± He asks. His stare still fixed at her.


    ¡°Her hearing has improved. She was able to repeat a sentence I had spoken.¡± I reply while latching the door once again.


    ¡°That is reassuring. I have convened with the Elder, and had just met up with Captain who should be here soon. I have briefed them with all the information except-¡± He turns to me, his lips trembling for a second before he continues, ¡°...the thing in the forest.¡±


    ¡°A bell?¡± Elara suddenly speaks. Gareth walks up to the window, his eyes shut in deep concentration.


    ¡°Is it a good idea to leave that out?¡± I ask. He remains silent for a moment, although he eventually opens his eyes with no apparent impact.


    ¡°I will tell them... eventually. But right now, I find difficulty in putting it to words.¡± He answers.


    ¡°That is fine with me. Honestly I don¡¯t know what to make of it myself.¡±


    The noise downstairs grows louder as another pair of footsteps slowly makes its way down the hall.


    ¡°Regardless, the remaining information we¡¯ve gathered is enough to keep us busy for a long while.¡± He turns back to Elara. I take a moment to consider asking questions of a larger scope, however the nagging anxiety for immediate survival overwhelms me.


    ¡°So... what now?¡± I ask.


    ¡°I will lead a larger squad back into the caves tomorrow morning. Assuming that what we¡¯d encountered in the second labyrinth is not related to the goblin invasion, we should be able to-¡± His sentence is cut short by a single feeble knock on the door. His confusion indicates that the knuckle does not belong to the Captain. Gareth nods and I open it.


    In front of me stands the Town Elder. A wrinkled old man, probably in his late sixties. His his robe is neat and proper even if a tad bit over-sized. He stands wearily, resting his arms on a firm wooden walking stick which is well polished and has a light grain texture. Not the usual choice of wood. When last we met, his large shawl had been pulled well over his head, perhaps to protect him from the mid-day heat. Now it hangs loosely around his shoulder, revealing his aged yet lively face which now carries the weight of worry and concern.


    ¡°Elder! Come in. I wasn¡¯t expecting you.¡± Gareth says in surprise.


    ¡°A call for help has arrived. Goblins are attacking the south end and the western farm. Aleric promptly left, and has asked you to join the troop facing the larger horde in the west.¡±


    Gareth rushes out of the door, excusing himself while passing the Elder only to stop abruptly and pedal back to the door frame.


    ¡°Meer may I request you to help the southern end and have Melo keep watch over Elara.¡± His voice is desperate. Melo chirps loudly in agreement.


    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll make my way there now.¡± I reply, while shuffling to gather my bag and staff.


    With a nod, he was gone. The Elder looks at me with a smile of gratitude as I walk out to join him in the hallway. I peer back to see Melo staring at us and after a solemn wave of my hand, I close the door behind me.


    ¡°Exit through the main door, go straight for ten buildings, and then a left at the large tree. That will take you to the south end clearing where you should be able to assess the situation yourself.¡±


    With great haste I dash off as instructed, and in the background I notice the knelling of two bells ringing off time from each other. Their sounds tussling in my ears till eventually, the sound emanating from straight ahead overcomes the other. Hurrying past the various locations and people of the unfamiliar town, I observe the atmosphere to be tense yet lacked any sense of urgency. Perhaps they were more used to these attacks than I¡¯d reckoned. Finally, over a low mound, I arrive at the southern end.


    The town stops at a short cliff overlooking a shallow wooded valley. The cliff slopes down gently to the plain from the right, while a tall segment of the town wall envelopes the far left before receding to a thin yet firm wooden fence which guards against the open drop. I spot a handful of goblin corpses on the slope and the sound of steel clashing scatter the air at odd intervals.


    ¡°Ar you here to help?¡± A familiar voice greets me. I peer behind to see Sola running towards me.


    ¡°Yes, Gareth has sent me to assist you here.¡± I reply.


    ¡°Ha-ha you don¡¯t need to be so formal with us.¡±


    Sola is young. He appears to be about twenty years old although his demeanour suggests a younger age. His face now looks much fresher than when we¡¯d first met at the town gate, even though we had spotted him at his post so early in the morn. Perhaps they¡¯ve been alternating the morning shifts every few days. The metal pads on his uniform look identical to Elara¡¯s although the general condition of his tunic and pants match his carefree personality being untidy, wrinkled and slightly off centre.


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    ¡°Sure. Then I¡¯ll follow behind. Lead the way Sola.¡± I say.


    ¡°Great! But don¡¯t get mad if I take care of all the Goblins myself. I am kind of a genius swordsman- Hey how do you know my name?¡±


    ¡°No time for that. Lets go.¡±


    I shove him from behind and we rapidly descend down the path. The clanks of metal grow louder as the ferric scent of Goblin blood sneaks into my nose. Unlike the claustrophobic, and manic battles in the cave, the scene that emerges is stagnant. Four guards hold back about seven Goblins at the edge of the woods. Casting a glance around, I see signs of more hiding in the shrubs and a few up in the trees as well. The lack of ranged weaponry is evident, but their reluctance to chuck the medley of weapons in their hands is curious.


    ¡°Holst! I¡¯m here!¡± Sola announces our arrival to both friend and foe alike. A guard peers back, his face falling to a slight disappointment on seeing us. Or hopefully, just him.


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± He replies. The annoyance in his voice is apparent.


    ¡°I tried joining the Captain¡¯s force, but Gram told me to save you guys instead so I ran here as fast as I could.¡± Sola seems oblivious to the implication.


    ¡°I see. Remind me to thank your brother later.¡± He is clearly annoyed, however the slight hint of a smile and clearness in his frow indicates a sort of endearment towards the clueless warrior. His gaze then wanders to me.


    ¡°I see you¡¯ve bought an adventurer with you.¡±


    ¡°Yup. This is the lady I¡¯d told you about yesterday.¡± Sola point to me. The older guard stares at me, unimpressed.


    ¡°So miss, can you fire off a spell for us. We¡¯ve found ourselves at a bit of a stalemate.¡±


    The description is accurate. The Goblins refuse to retreat yet it seems like the guards are unwilling to chase them into the woods. The situation makes sense. The party of monsters are probably just a distraction for the main assault while there is no reason for these men to risk their lives chasing an unknown number of enemies. I start chanting a spell.


    ¡°Alright guys. The lady is doing something, lets give her some space.¡± Holst commands the team. The the guards move like clockwork, aligning themselves around the trees to guide a spell through.


    ¡°Lightning Bolt!¡±


    My Spirit sizzles and crackles at the tip of my staff, aiming through the funnel of man and foliage, it whips against the air as it spears into a hapless Goblin. The monster shrieks in agony as a residual charge arcs over the gap between it and a friend that stands too close. The howling wind carries a burnt, acrid stench as the two fall limp to the ground. A guard whistles in astonishment.


    ¡°Wheeew! A few more of those and we¡¯ll be done in no time.¡± Holst exclaims.


    The demeanour of our living enemies change. What once looked like a gaggle of scheming runts now exude the fervour of blood-battle.


    ¡°I can only give you about two more spells.¡± I confess abashedly.


    ¡°Huh, I guess that spell IS far too powerful to be flung that often.¡± Sola tries to reassure me. I think.


    ¡°The air has turned! There is bloodlust in the trees! All shields up!¡± Holst commands. The guards lift up their round light shields in anticipation. Sola does the same, although his eyes convey lesser thoughts of defence than it does impatience.


    CRACK!


    A guard stumbles to his knees, his arm holding the shield is still raised half-heartedly over his head. A crude dagger falls on the dirt next to him. I start a second chant.


    ¡°Fall back to me! Sola, defend the maiden!¡± Holst shouts vehemently. Perhaps hoping that his aggression would convince the assailants to rethink their attack.


    Cackling resounds from the treetops. The unintelligible chattering of Goblins grows nearer. The decision to stop at the edge of the forest was a wise one. Their maniacal discussions are distracting, however it does give away their location.


    ¡°Lightning Bolt!¡±


    I fire a second spell, this time up into the trees. The discharge of power illuminates the shade above, followed by a thrashing in the leaves, and branches as four charred Goblins fall between the two groups. The scenario is baffling, probably a result of godly fortune. The remaining monsters rush into battle in manic frenzy.


    ¡°The Greater spirits have blessed us! Mamon, Hallam! Cover the sides! There are more in the brush.¡± Holst rushes into battle paired up with the remaining guard. My gaze turns towards Sola whose eyes dart around the battle field in flustered excitement.


    The fight is fierce however the guards are clearly well trained and educated in the art of battle. They use their larger stature to their advantage, parrying and dodging the reckless attacks of the pint-sized assailants. However they do not push too deep into their offence, perhaps to reduce the chance of injury. In the absence of a healer, any broken bone or major laceration would render them a liability.


    The brawl has become chaotic, with the additional pair of guards having slowly slid into battle out of necessity. Naturally, I begin to scout the undergrowth for movement. The scuffling of life underneath is evident, however not once have they shown their numbers or intention. Finally a lone Goblin, perhaps out of curiosity, sticks its head out from the bushes to assess the playing field. But before I can react, a rush of wind carried by a sprinting Sola, whizzes past my face as he leaps into the thicket.


    ¡°SOLA!¡± I scream. Admittedly with too much vigour. Holst, out of concern, peers behind to witness the boy disappear as I had.


    ¡°Go after him traveller! The fool is unprepared!¡±


    I comply and race after him.


    The vegetation is thick yet low. I manage to identify and follow their misshapen shadows and figures, eventually coming to a sort of hollow in the woods, the existence of which is owed to a rock platform that keeps the plants at bay. The clearing is small, barely large enough to contain the stand-off between Sola and three Goblins.


    ¡°Sola! We need to get back!¡± I plead.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Meer, I can handle these three.¡± He replies confidently.


    Two Goblins lunge at him, their weapons finding air as Sola dodges one and sidesteps the other with ease. I¡¯ll admit, his movements are impressive, with the last Goblin joining the barrage yet still failing to land a blow. His swift swordplay parrying even the surest of strikes from the bewildered creatures, initiates his counter-attack with his sword gracefully nudging and swaying the opponent¡¯s crude armaments. However, the difference in numbers prevents him from finding the space to land any substantial attacks.


    I sort through my options. Any offensive spell is off the table in such a cramped area. His speed and movements are formidable enough as it is, what he needs is the power to overwhelm them. I start to chant.


    The fight is practically at a stalemate. The goblins are no closer to landing a hit on him as he is to keeping them staggered long enough to finish one off. The usual confidence on his face has slowly soured into frustration as the sweat dripping down his forehead threatens to aggravate his fixated eyes.


    A meagre ball of Spirit coils its way up my staff before a subsequent burst of unknown power transforms it to a ball of translucent energy. With the mysteries of ambiguous magic only being a concern for the uninspired, I churn and flick my staff.


    ¡°Strength¡±


    The spell shoots out of my staff, with the Spirit being trapped in a ball of gooey layers. The form is unnerving, and reminiscent of the same I¡¯d observed in the battle with the spider, although the viscosity appears to have heightened since then. Regardless, it makes contact with Sola and enters his being.


    The effect is as expected. The growth of his muscles cause an inflation of his already towering stature over the stunted opponents. The straps on his metal pads creak as they stretch out against his broadening frame. There is more confidence and stability in his foothold now as he twirls around an impending strike while swinging and lashing out against a prepared enemy. The sword makes contact with its dagger. An attack once narrowly defended against, now sends the Goblin flying into a tree across the battle-field.


    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± Sola cries out in excitement. He looks at me with a big smile drawn on his face.


    His celebration is cut short by the shrill cry of the remaining Goblins as they jump at him from either sides. His body seems to grow larger as he successfully dodges one attack and twists his hips to swing his sword, slicing the head off the other.


    The thud of the decapitated body is harsh as it scrapes along the rocky ground. Sola reaches up and pulls off a shoulder pad from his body, perhaps they¡¯d become too tight for his ever growing silhouette. The lone survivor is terrified. Its legs tremble in fear, yet still it raises its shabby half-sword against the colossal enemy looming down from the heavens above.


    The final strike is swift and true. The poor Goblin either failed or refused to react. Its head drops and rolls in a half circle around its still standing corpse. Sola takes a moment to settle his mind before turning towards me, his face stricken with joy. He lifts his hands, waving in thanks, he opens his mouth to say something when he suddenly turns motionless.


    His mouth draws agape as a scream begins to swell from the silence of his lungs. Red is his face, with his eyes starting to bulge out of its sockets, and the already enhanced frame of his body growing larger by the second. I look on in horror as he lowers his arms, pushed down by the deformed swelling of his shoulder. A strap on his chest bursts open as a metal pad is shot into the foliage. His legs contort in submission to the uneven distribution of muscles mass and static joints.


    ¡°AAAAAHHH! MEEEER!!!¡± His scream is eldritch in nature.


    I chant a Heal spell.


    ¡°STOP IT! MAKE IT STOP!¡±


    I shut my eyes tight. My mind cannot handle what is, and I do not have the courage to wonder what will be. The darkness behind my eyelids only serve to amplify the sounds of agony. Behind his guttural scream, I hear the slow ripping of leather and cloth, or at least I can only hope it to be those and not flesh. A loud pop echoes in the trees followed by the pitter-patter of rain. The smell of blood is unmistakable. I catch myself losing track of the chant and push to complete it.


    ¡°HEAL!¡± I scream. ¡°HEAL HIM!¡±


    His squeals drown out any semblance of language in my utterance. Forcing my eyes open, I witness my Spirit drift to his deformed body. His arms float on the side of his bust, with his face frozen stiff in fear and pain. His frame appears to have ceased to expand with his muscles having torn through much of his tunic and pants. In my misguided relief I step out of the brush.


    In the flicker of a moment an explosion of flesh splatters a streak of blood and organs across my chest. My mind takes a few seconds to regain its senses and when it does, my eyes stare at a headless torso of what was once a young guard. His body tilts eerily sideways and topples over. Its form as stiff as a plank of wood, surely caused by the unnatural tension in his muscles and ligaments. The new line of sight reveals the location of his head, or in this case, his skull. It had been flung off about five feet behind, before splattering its contents on the bark of a tree and falling to the ground with spine, nerves, and sinew still attached to it. At least that which was not mushed by its own velocity.


    I instantly retch. My eyes hurt too much to be kept open, or maybe I only think they do. I turn and run into the forest, my body crashing into a number of trees before I can muster up the courage to open them again. The sight of gore is one that an adventurer should never become too accustomed to, especially if it is one caused by themselves.


    I leave the guidance of my feet to the fortune of desperation. The stench of flesh and blood on my tunic causes me to gag and heave, adding excess fuel to my despair and confusion. In a frenzy of anguish, I flail an empty hand around my collar, hopelessly trying to peel off the contaminated cloth from my body. The thick, slimy fluid which now layers and layers itself upon my hand, numbs it to the sensation of progress. I am unsure of the outcome, however somewhere between then and now, I¡¯ve managed to find myself out of the woods and onto a clearing. The smoke and commotion of Stren transpire atop a modest cliff. Thank the Spirits. I am safe.