As it turned out, Tykhon wasn’t too far from where they’d left him. At the present moment, he was busy ripping at the corpse of what looked to be a eagle of some sort. Presumably it had wrenched it out of the air, judging from the blood on the talons on its front pair of legs.
Carnes, you really outdid yourself with this one, Efrain thought.
Fortunately, the beast seemed satiated with its meal and all too happy to welcome its riders back. Innie hopped back on her customary place, and soon Efrain clambered up after her.
“I get the distinct impression we are heading into something that’s more trouble than it’s worth,” he said, taking the reins in hand.
“Well, if you feel that way, turn around and go back home. I made a promise and intend to keep it.”
Innie was eyeing him closely, as if to remind him of his own promise that he had made in the hours before. All in all, he was of two minds about the proposal, for while his own curiosity, as well as pity, drove him to seriously consider seeking out the child.
Church member where not exactly partial to mages, it was true, but of greater concern was his undead status. Even the most tolerant of its members would take umbrage at that. Still, the urge remained, to investigate, to interrogate, and perhaps to divine some purpose to the chaos that had dominated the last few days of his existence.
Deep down, within whatever heart that existed separate from his body, Efrain suspected that the two things were interconnected. He’d never been a superstitious person, at least for his undead time, but he understood there were still many things for him to learn. Once again, his mind returned to his musing over his solitary departure from the world, and how much it had changed in his absence.
He also reflected upon Asseira’s story, and considered the prospect of having his head lopped off by a paladin. That scenario quickly spoilt whatever appeal the mystery had, albeit not entirely. Then again, he already had a job to do within the valley, so perhaps it would be better to focus on that first. Maybe they’d stumble upon the troop at the same time.
In his experience, however, reality was rarely so convenient.
With a twitch of the reins, Tykhon set off into the woods, the horse clearly happy to be moving at full speed again. Efrain guessed that the old adage about ‘move after meal/give righteous zeal’ still applied. A biological quirk that Carnes saw no reason to excise, evidently.
They rode on through the night, the dark bark and clinging branches passing them by. The moon shone, bright, full, giving everything a pale cast. Unfortunately for them, there were even less signs of the creatures, with a single claw mark being their only trail they incountred. It would seem that the creatures, if they had been here, had moved farther south.
“So, to the south?” said Innie.
“Our other option is to go back,” said Efrain, “I suppose that’s the best we can do. We only have so much buffer room before we hit the plain forests.”
“And if we lose them in there, they’ll be near impossible to find,” Innie finished for him.
For hours, they crossed through grove, wood, and stream, with only the barest sign indicated the path of their quarry. Efrain was almost beginning to doubt they’d gone the right way, until they came across a set of dead trees.
“Finally,” Efrain sighed as he dismounted to investigate. To his ‘joy’ the affliction seemed relatively fresh, given the small amount of needles scattered. Some of the trees were also leaking sap, which ran dark, with flecks of dead phloem.
“It’s relatively fresh. Maybe a couple hours old, judging from the sap,” he called back to Innie as he walked back to Tykhon.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Then let’s go,” Innie replied, impatient to get this particular quest over with.
As they progressed to the south, they found more marks, increasing in severity and frequency. One tree was hewn so thoroughly, it had toppled over onto the forest floor. Efrain leaned over to sample some of the sap, noting its freshness.
“We’re getting close. Under an hour, I’d say,” Efrain said as he rubbed his gloves clean.
“Are you ready?” Innie said, sitting alert in the saddle in contrast with her ordinary quiet.
“Who is, really?” he said, hearing a breeze shift the branches above, sending a shower of needles down upon them.
“I mean, we really have little idea to expect, we don’t know how many there are, and we have no idea what abilities they have.”
“Optimistic as ever,” Innie snorted, “And don’t you dare say ‘you’re just being a realist’.”
Efrain, feeling cheated at being unable to call back to the previous conversation that he’d had, clambered up in silence.
“Maybe,” he said as he assumed the reins once more, “the monsters will kill all the knights, and the girl will walk free, and we’ll be all peachy.”
“Maybe, or maybe we’ll die and be beyond caring.”
Efrain didn’t bother to contradict her on the fact that he was dead and still very much cared.
The moon wheeled over head as they pursued the creatures. The trees grew thicker and more varied as deciduous crossed into the conifers.
“We must be about ten leagues from the village by now,” he said, scanning from some familiar landmark or mountain.
“Somewhere around there,” she said, “navigation isn’t exactly my strong suite. At least not converting units.”
“I’m about to take personal offence,” Efrain said, having taught her cartography on a lazy day she’d deigned to visit him. As the spectre of his isolation hung over him, he decided to ask a question that had been weighing on his mind.
“What do you think of, you know, when all of this is done, just… leaving?”
“Leaving?”
“Well, your charges can take care of themselves. And it’s not like the dead need much maintenance, so… what about just riding on? Going for a little trip, seeing the world?”
“This, coming from you? I’m shocked. Genuinely.”
“Aren’t you curious about how the world has changed in your absence?” Efrain shrugged.
“Maybe, but to be perfectly frank, I’m more than content with my responsibilities.”
Efrain was about to try and offer a tantalizing counterargument, when they rounded the ridge.
The familiar coldness settled into their bones as they gazed down across a stretch of forest. It weighed down on them, far darker and oppressive than before. The trees had a crust of frost that sparkled around them in the moonlight. However they were practically oblivious to that, the spectacle before them distracting from everything else.
A bank of fog had swept across a small clearing before them, thick and impregnable. From within, orange lights, likely of torches, flickered. Also from within the rolling banks, came sounds of steel ringing, and the grunts and cries of fighting men.
“Well, I think we found them,” Efrain said as he glanced across the banks of mist.
“Never would’ve guessed,” said Innie.
From the fog, shadows stretched and flowed, wavering back and forth. Suddenly, there was a figure, stumbling out from the bank and out onto the snow. Several shambling things followed them, human character, but twisted and bloated. Their gate was a twitching, disorientated thing, some of the crawling across the surface of the white.
They fell upon the being in the snow, who desperately tried to drive them back with a sword. The attempt failed miserable as the creatures advanced, their limbs raining down blows. Efrain bones ached in sympathy as he watched the human driven into the snow.
That feeling only increased when the largest creature got a grip upon the man’s outstretched arm. It wrenched as the other creatures pulled the man into the drifts and… Something dark and jointed flew up into the air, and the man’s screams drifted up the hill.
“Ouch,” Efrain said, as the man and the screams with him were pulled under the snow.
“Well, that certainly brings a new dimension to the problem,” Innie said.
Efrain nodded in agreement as he tried to spy and indication of how the battle was going in the mists. Failing to do so, he sat back in the saddle and sighed.
“I don’t suppose you can see anything in the mists,” he said.
“No,” said Innie, but instead of behind him, it was below him. He turned to find the wisp-mother off the horse and moving over the ridge.
“Oh no, you can’t be serious,” Efrain said.
“You bet I am.”
“Just let them kill each-other, then we mop up the survivors. Hopefully there will be few enough that we can deal with them with minimal effort.”
“I’ve never know you to forget a promise, Efrain. I’d rather you not disappoint me by starting now,” she said as she began to pad down the hill.
“The alternative is to try and fight two sides at once?” Efrain said, not really willing to back down from this one.
“Oh come on, Efrain, don’t be stupid. We don’t have to fight both, just pick one,” she said, walking past the slope, “now would you rather choose the slavering monster who probably don’t have any sense of gratitude, or the humans that probably do?”
Efrain couldn’t technically argue with that, but was still not enthused about the prospect.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait a little? Let them thin out?”
“I imagine the more of their comrades are dead, the darker their mood. Or, to put it in another way, the more we save, the more likely they are to be grateful.”
“And if they turn out to be less grateful than we hope?”
“That’s why the horse is here, Efrain. I somehow doubt that even chargers could keep up with whatever Tykhon is.”
“And if they somehow manage that?”
“Really, Efrain? Well, in that case, we know this land far better than they do. In addition, the flesh of the living still burns, last I checked.”
Efrain stood for a single moment as the cat turned and began to bound down the hill. The pages of military histories, tactics, and histories flipped in his head. He considered, just how many creatures there may be, and whether, even combined, their capacity would compliment the troops enough to defeat them.
The conclusion was not optimistic, but, then again, Innie was already half-way down the hill.
“Alright, you stay here, and come running if called,” he said to Tykhon as he slid of his back and into the snow. Then he took off down the slope, already regretting the decision.