The two pushed through the foliage with haste. The cuts on their bodies grew increasingly less solitary. Each branch, bush, and twig left a pink mark on their skin.

"Hold up, we have to cover our footsteps," Erend shouted at Albert.

"There's no damn time! You saw them moving, they're coming for us!"

"We can't lead them back to camp!"

Albert groaned, "Gods! Shit! Fuck! Alright!"

"The rain will do most of the work for us. From here, just slow it down, don't break any more bushes, and don't step in things that the rain won't wash away."

"Sounds easy enough," Albert started. The barking of dogs cut him off mid-way. "And what about that?"

Erend jerked his head toward the sound, and he paled, "We can't go back if they have tracking dogs. It's too dangerous."

"I know. Shit," grumbled Albert.

The more Erend thought about it, the more hopeless the situation felt. Despite the two running as quickly as they could without leaving tracks, the snarling dogs sounded like they were getting closer and closer. It wouldn't be long until they caught up now.

Erend slowed his pace and let out an exasperated breath. Albert turned to face him, the confusion in his eyes clear.

"Listen, we won't be able to get much further... I can draw their attention with a spell and then run away. If you can manage to get to the camp without leaving any tracks, get some backup and find me."

"That's a stupid fucking idea."

"Oh yeah? But it's the only one we have. Hiding is not an option, running is pointless, and both of us going back will get everyone killed."

"I can stay, I can help. Our chances will be better if we're together," Albert pleaded.

Erend shook his head, "Then we'll have to fight them with no back-up."

"Still, there has to…"

"Enough, man. I wanted to go. I'll take responsibility for it. You just make sure to get the others. And don't leave any fucking tracks behind, you oaf."

Albert's mouth opened, then closed. His eyes wavered. He shook his head and ground his teeth, "Alright. Just... just don't do anything too crazy."

"No worries. I'll see you in a bit, okay?" Erend smiled and reached his fist out.

"Yeah," Albert conceded and bumped his fist into Erend's.

Watching the retreating back of his friend made the weight of his decision feel all the more weighty. After all, talking about doing things is always easier than actually following through.

He’d killed a group by himself before, but that was different. He'd been in a trance then.

Erend’s shoulders slumped together, and he let out a long sigh.

Best get to it.

Erend turned his heels around and faced the direction of the rabid dogs. They would be upon him in a matter of seconds now. His mind frantically searched for a way out of this mess. He looked at his surroundings. There was nothing unusual around him, just trees, bushes, and vines. Just like in the rest of the damned forest.

He paced up to a particularly sturdy tree with a wide trunk and pointed his back to it so that he only had to worry about protecting his front and sides.

Deep voices barked at the dogs and echoed through the woods with a rumble. The orcs sounded as if they were a fair bit behind their animals.

A group of bushes in front of Erend rustled. Frenetic sniffing cut through the sound. A long snout and a mouth filled with sharp teeth peeked through. Slowly the full face of the monstrosity followed.

Erend wasn't very familiar with the wildlife of this plane, but he was sure of one thing; that was no dog. It looked like a strange hybrid between a bear and a wolf. It had yellow eyes and a body huge enough to make most orcs look small.

The beast cautiously approached him with its teeth bared. Even with a distance of multiple paces separating them, he could smell the damn thing. It smelled foul and sweet, like rotten meat.

Erend's breath caught in his throat. The consequences of his decision proved to be a bit more than he had anticipated. He locked eyes with the beast, it turned its snout into the air and let out a vicious howl, and then it charged at him.

In response, the Source thrummed to life within Erend. He felt his throat familiarly heat, "Rend," he commanded.

Instantaneously, he felt the Source drain from him as it happily put his wish into motion. An invisible blade lashed out at the wolf-bear-thing, cutting it from eye to eye.

The beast unleashed a violent roar and threw itself to the ground, thrashing its limbs wildly around itself and sending sticks and leaves flying.

The sudden attack managed to stop the howl, but the orcs had already been alerted to his position. Without taking a better look at what results his Control had achieved, Erend darted into the woods, making sure to lead his pursuers away from Albert and the camp.

Just a few seconds after he left the beast behind, he could hear the ugly language sound out.

A sharp crack made him recoil and throw a look over his shoulder. The trees shook violently, and the ground quaked. The damn beast started snarling and barking again. "Fuck," he muttered and dodged a branch.

If the animal was on its feet and chasing him again, he wasn't so sure if he'd be able to slow it long enough for backup to arrive. He resolutely drew his sword and kept running, always keeping an eye out for orcs.

Minutes passed. The beast was always hot on his heels, never allowing him a moment of rest, but staying far enough behind him that he never saw it. The chase turned into a battle of attrition.

Erend hoped that his allies would come to his rescue before he ran out of energy, but he'd once again severely overestimated his abilities. It wasn't only that his feet had grown numb and that his body felt ragged that bothered him, but the usage of Control had left his mind feeling hazy. Using the glyph in a controlled environment had proven completely different from using it in an actual life-or-death situation. Maybe it came at a higher price since he used the power on a living target.

Erend shook his head and slapped his cheek. Thoughts like that had to wait until after he got out of this ordeal—alive.

The chase continued even long after his breathing had grown haggard. His legs felt like they were made out of pudding. Just the fact that he was still running was surprising to him. He'd thought about giving up many times already but an unyielding will had convinced him not to.

He couldn't tell how long he'd been fleeing, only that it shouldn't have taken this long for his allies to come to his rescue. He could feel the cold grip of despair tighten around his throat.

Maybe they decided it would be safest not to come? After all, he'd already put them in a shitty situation once already.

Finally, his legs could take him no further.

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Is this how far I go...?

He bent over and gasped for air. The beast slowed its pace proportionately and approached. Its teeth clattered under the roaring power of its breath. The fur was stained in a bloodied mess of viscera and flora. Erend wouldn't have realized it was the same beast if it wasn't for the large gouge covering its eyes and leaking blood.

Crispy leaves crackled underfoot. The blind faith he'd had in his allies had kept him running, but it had proven to be a foolish decision. He was utterly exhausted even before having to face the wolf-bear-thing.

As he resolved himself to a grueling fight, he realized that he stood alone against not only the beast—but also the orcs that followed its rampage through the woods.

The scarred orc emerged from the woods, wielding his toothy whip with a disgusting grin. He laughed and pointed at Erend, then said something to his subordinates.

The beast recoiled when the orc reached out to pat its fur. His face contorted as he lashed out with his whip. With a crack, the whip cut through the wolf-bear's pelt. It whimpered in fright but didn't retaliate.

The orc turned to Erend and spoke with a broken dialect, "You ran far vermin." The ridicule in his voice was clear, despite the language barrier.

Erend's heart felt like it would beat out of his chest, relentlessly hammering against the inside of his ribcage, "You speak our tongue?"

The orc spat on the ground and gestured for his men to surround Erend, "Sadly. The mistress had me learn it. A wretched language for a despicable bunch."

Erend pointed his sword at the scarred leader, "Have you men stand down. We don't have to fight."

"We don't have to. But I want to," the orc smiled back and barked something in his native language.

The beast roared savagely, signaling the onslaught of attackers to commence.

Three orcs approached Erend under the watchful gaze of their scarred leader. Erend ripped a goblin dagger from his belt and fired it off with Force, aiming it at an axe-wielding orc. It shot through the air with a howl.

Before he could see if it hit, he turned to deflect the oncoming blow of another of the orc. This one had a sword that resembled his own, albeit larger and more chipped.

What the slash lacked in technique the orc made up for with brute strength. Erend could feel his hilt violently vibrate in the palm of his hand from the clash. They locked swords. Erend could feel his blade slip into a crack in the orc's well-used sword.

He gritted his teeth and pushed back with all his might. His shoulder ached and cracked from the effort, but it was pointless. Slowly he was being pushed back. It felt like he was fighting Anya.

Like Anya. In a sudden flash of realization, Erend took a hurried step backward and let the orc stagger at his unexpected gain of momentum.

He met the face of the staggering orc with his shoulder, making blood spray from its nose. A spike of pain flared through Erend. He glanced down with a whimper and saw the broken tusk sticking out of his arm. "Fuck," he muttered and moved to finish off the orc before it found its wits again.

Before he could follow through on the counter, crackling leaves alerted him to the approach of another assailant.

Without the time to turn around, he dodged down in a deep squat. The sword-wielding orc had to take a large step back to not be hit by the menacing war hammer.

Erend could feel the wind pressure emanating from the attack rustle his hair. He spun around with a kick, hoping to sweep the destabilized legs of the attacker. But when his chin impacted the orc it felt like he kicked a wall.

Realizing his kick had been futile, Erend disengaged with a roll. He stood up and surveilled the area. He was completely surrounded. Thankfully neither the scarred orc nor the beast seemed interested in fighting him. Instead the subordinates had been spread thin by establishing a sparse perimeter.

With a little luck and ingenuity he could escape this, of that much he was certain.

The axe-wielding orc he'd fired the dagger at lay crumpled among a pile of leaves and dead branches. From the looks of it, he had flopped down lifeless instantly.

Erend felt satisfied at having killed one of them, but it didn't prove very helpful as the scarred orc leisurely ordered another to take the place of the dead one with nothing more than a whistle and a nod.

Erend's gaze moved from one orc to the next, like a trapped animal. Everything hurt, he was tired. But he couldn't stop. Not now.

With a lunge, he struck at the newcomer orc. He knew the distance between them was far too great for him to actually reach, so he tried something new.

He focused his will on his blade, and commanded, "Pierce!"

Source gathered at its tip and shot out like a spear, lengthening the blade to more than double its initial size.

The orc's eyes grew wide as it was penetrated by the invisible Source.

Erend breathed out a sigh of relief. He hadn't been sure if it would work but figured that now was as good a time as any to experiment, seeing as he didn't have a lot of reasons to hold back.

He didn't let his momentum stop and charged past the orc toward the beast.

The scarred orc seemed as surprised at the sudden change of events as the stabbed orc had been. He stood frozen in place with the disgusting grin wiped from his face.

The beast lifted its paw to strike at Erend, exposing its soft underbelly and chest, "Stop!" Erend commanded.

He could feel the assault of a horrendous headache hammer away between his eyes. The beast was frozen in place for just a split second, but that was long enough for Erend to slit its throat and make his way past it.

“Hasten."

The moment he said the word aloud all sounds of the world fell away. All he could hear was the frenzied beating of his heart.

He could feel something warm run down his cheeks, making its way down his throat and lips in a slow-moving trickle. He smacked his lips as it entered his mouth, it tasted like iron.

Erend's eyes grew blurry as he darted through the woods at speeds completely unreal to him. He moved at least as quickly as a trained racehorse and possessed the agility of a panther. The foliage practically flew past him as he weaved through the forest like he'd lived there his entire life.

Even as his consciousness began slipping from him, he kept running.

The sounds of his footsteps grew clear once more. Each and every step brought with it the crackling sounds of fall.

He didn't know when the rain had stopped its smattering onslaught, but it had. He fell to his knees. As if on instinct he'd made it back to somewhere familiar.

The place where Anya had died.

He crawled to the hollow tree and climbed inside with effort that put his previous run to shame. The ants inside instantly began feasting on him, but he didn't mind.

Finally, I can close my eyes… just for a little bit…

Erend's eyes shot open. Darkness had already descended.

"Shit," he hurriedly exclaimed. "I've got to get back to the camp!"

His eyelids felt oddly heavy and his hearing was dulled. He reached up to rub at his eyes and felt a sticky mix of coagulated blood and tar loosen piece by piece. The stench of iron filled the hollow tree. He moved on to his ears and quickly loosened the clot covering his ear canal.

As he clambered out he felt his body ache. Each and every limb screamed for more time to rest.

He forced himself to take each step with gritted teeth as he began traversing the way back to camp. The heavy use of spells left his body feeling like he waddled through knee-deep mud.

The carvings on the trees around him had gradually started taking on the shape of triangles. He was close.

After pushing through a gathering of familiar bushes, the camp revealed itself. Smoke hung heavy in the air along with the unmistakable smell of death.

Pushing his body to its limits, Erend forced himself into a run. He burst through the gate with an abated breath.

Utter devastation spread out in front of him.

"No..." he muttered. The cabins that he and the others had worked to make comfortable lay shattered on the dirt floor. Languid flames licked the last remaining coals of the campfire in an effort to stay ablaze.

Erend felt sick to his stomach. He rushed to his cabin, frantically looking for signs of life inside the camp. When he saw none, a sliver of hope found its way to him.

Maybe they just escaped. Surely. Maybe they got on the boat.

As he caught his breath he noticed that the gate to the cave stood slightly ajar. He quietly drew his blade and crept up to it. Inside, he could hear rasping breaths.

"Wh... Who's there?!" a strained voice demanded.

Erend breathed out a sigh of relief. He relaxed his tense body and moved inside with a whisper, "Carl. Where is every one..." his words trailed off when he saw the state of the former guardsman.

Carl sat with his back leaning against the cold stone walls. A gruesome wound spanned from one side of his stomach to the other—it had been cut open leaving his guts spilling out onto the floor. The man desperately tried to press his insides into his body again. Dried tears and splatters of blood covered his face.

"Erend... I'm sorry... they just... they were too many," Carl stammered, chipping for air between every word.

Erend knelt beside him and took his hand in his own, tightly pressing on it. The hand felt cold to the touch, "Where are the others? Where's Jack? Surely he can fix up a wound like this..."

Carl chuckled, then erupted in a violent and bloody cough, "I'm sure... he can't... the beach... g..."

The guard's eyes grew hazy, his hand lost the power it had once held.

"Fuck…" Erend muttered.

The beach. Gotta go to the beach.