Chapter 010:

Neither Anton or Verona spotted any more Yellow Goblins on the way back to the central plaza. Small groups of villagers met on the path and followed them. They had the same story as Anton and Verona; a few stragglers scattered throughout the village trying to capture or kill people. All the villagers noted that when the Yellow Goblins where on their own, instead of a group, they were quite easy to defeat.

Most decided that Anton's return meant the threat was over. Some stayed behind to do some last minute patrols.

Nearly all the villagers had gathered in the centre when they arrived back. Some were smeared in blood and were being tended to. In the centre lay newly dug and roaring fire pits, some meat was already being cooked.

Anton felt that it may have been premature, but he was doubtful the Yellow Goblins would attack again for some time. They had lost nearly eight hundred. Anyone would think twice. He hoped they would not attack again soon. Lots of work needed to be done.

The delicious smell of cooking Razor-Pig wafted throughout the village plaza. He had no idea when the villagers had managed that, at least he hoped that it was Razor-Pigs.

Verona sniffed and inhaled loudly. She began to squirm on his back, readying herself for the much-needed meal.

“Get a piece for me this time, will you?” Anton asked as he turned and unwrapped his hands.

Verona nodded and unclasped her arms from around his neck. She retook the spear from his hand, gave a backwards wave and skipped off towards the fire pit. There was a small crowd gathered, though it did not matter to her. She pushed her way through and knelt down with the others, waiting for her turn.

Anton found Bertram and Jeff in front of the main hall. They waved him over the moment they saw him. Laid out in front of them were several villagers, looking far more bloody and wounded than the others. As he approached blankets were pulled over them.

The villagers covering the bodies had a haunted looked in their eyes, their faces stained with a mix of tears and dirt. Family.

“How many?” Anton asked, trying not to look.

“Twenty,” Bertram replied, his voice solemn.

“Only that many?”

Jeff shrugged his shoulders.

“Most died at the wall, some died while dealing with stragglers when they got ambushed.”

“Allot less than I thought would be the case,” Bertram said while looking at the bodies. “I take it...”

Anton shook his head. “It took all I had to fix some rot on Jonathan's legs, I definitely couldn't bring the dead back to life.”

“So, what happens now?” Jeff asked.

Anton was about to begin when he saw Johnathan, Zac and Verona approaching. She had two large pieces of meat with her. Apparently, she had listened to him. She handed the considerably smaller one to him when she arrived.

Not that much different then.

“I think we need get quite a number of things sorted out. For one thing, organization. At the moment it seems that our organization and administration is somewhat broken and reactionary at best. If we can get more organized with people who actually know what they're doing...instead of me just giving orders and hoping that they'll work out. The rest of the villagers probably have little to no idea what's going on, and it's frightening for them.”

The others shifted uncomfortably, though none were going to raise any objections to their observations at his performance.

“So,” Anton took a bite out of the meat, tasting just like the last time, “I was thinking that we have Bertram in charge as the Chief, Jeff as a Commander, Zac for Construction and Jonathan for Armoury and Forging.”

He took another bite of the meat, letting what he had just said sink in. “I think it's a good plan.”

The four men huddled together and began talking amongst themselves. Verona poked Anton in the side, still gorging herself on her food.

“Are you sure that's the right decision?”

Anton looked down at Verona. She seemed to be trying to figure out Anton's thoughts about the new arrangement.

“I don't think it's too bad. Besides, it's a good decision to get people who know what they're doing in places where they can be the most effective.

It should also make them more loyal, hopefully.

“Also, I can't read, so...”

Verona shrugged.

“I still can't read or write...myself. It's difficult...for me.”

Anton raised his brow. Verona was going red in the face, the shame of admitting was quite large for her. He did not know what most people her age in this world were capable of, but she seemed to take it very badly.

“We'll learn together then.”

She looked up at him. Before she could answer the huddled group disbanded.

They seemed rather happy.

“Sounds like a good plan,” Jeff said, the others nodding in agreement.

“But lad,” Zac began, “What are you going to do then?”

Anton thought about long about this. It was a while before he said anything.

“I think as some sort of special adviser or something, I think I can be useful other than just my mana. We still need people for things like agriculture, mining and diplomacy, but those things can wait. They're sort of taking care of themselves right now. Is everyone...okay...with there positions then?”

Bertram stepped forward.

“I think so. Umm...if we have a meeting at first light, we can get organized for the day and report on what happened the previous.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Anton said in agreement.

“So what will you do then, Verona?” Bertram asked.

She seemed a bit hesitant to answer, briefly glancing at Anton, as if for assurance to answer.

“I'll go with Anton. He seems to know what he's doing.”

He tried to grab the Razor-Pig leg from her again. This time she saw his hand as he reached for it, bringing it into her chest.

“Not this time.” her grin widening to ridiculous proportions.

I'll get you later for that.

Anton relented, smiling that Verona seemed playful after what happened before. He had no intention of telling the others about Cara, at least just yet.

“Enough you two,” Zac said dismissively.

“So, any ideas of what to do next?” Anton asked.

The four looked questioningly at Anton.

“Well,” Verona took another bite, “He put you in charge. What's the plan?”

Being told off by someone so young, they stammered before Bertram coughed.

“First we need to tend to the wounded and get rid of the bodies, both ours and theirs,” he turned to Anton, “How much mana do you have?”

Anton flexed his hands, trying to determine how much of the 'heaviness', he had. There was little resistance, and as he thought about it, he felt a little queasy.

“Not much. Couple of light heals but nothing spectacular.”

He chucked the Razor-Pig meet at Verona. She let the spear roll into her elbow and caught it with her free hand. She seemed bewildered by the amount of food she now had.

Everyone except Jeff and Verona looked surprised as he pulled out a Karak fruit and devoured it in a few seconds.

“That fruit works wonders, thank-you Jeff. Though...I do feel a little sick in my gut now. Guess I can't have too many then.”

Bertram looked at the other three.

“Well, if you can...get to healing the seriously wounded. We'll start gathering all the gear the Yellow Goblins had, drop the bodies into the pit and figure out what we have left.”

“Alright then.”

Anton moved off to the wounded villagers that Bertram gestured to when he said 'seriously wounded', Verona following him.

The four looked at one another, shrugged, and separated to do their duties.

Anton lent down to Verona's level as he walked and retook his food.

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For saying something I couldn't then.”

She opened her mouth to question but closed it as she realized the hidden meaning.

“I get ya'. Why didn't you mention Cara?”

“Not the right time yet. But it'll have to be soon...or never.”

Verona looked away in deep thought as she walked. She stopped in front of a, particularly wounded villager. His arms and face were covered in deep wounds and blood.

“Might as well get started.” pointing with the but of her spear.

Anton took one last bite before handing it to Verona. He placed his hand on the wounded villager and recited the prayer in his head.

---[]---

Over the next half hour, Anton healed over thirty seriously wounded villagers. He healed them enough so they would not die, they would have to fully heal themselves on their own. Almost half the central plaza had been turned into a makeshift hospital, tables usually reserved for eating now had the wounded splayed across them, those less wounded taking chairs or just lying on the ground.

Using the prayer power, and the feeling of joining with another person was starting to become easier and more instinctive. After using it so much he could tell if someone would die without intervention. It was difficult to explain, but to him, a mortal wound felt like the fire within someone would go out unless he did something, almost like rekindling the flame.

This lead to several awkward moments when a villager, would look on the verge of death, but turned out that the wounds were largely superficial. Nonetheless, he still healed them a little to placate them. All those that he could see that were about to die were healed.

The dead Yellow Goblin corpses had been removed and dumped in the pit the south. Whatever they carried had been placed into a large pile to the side of the main hall.

Anton had just finished with the last villager and was feeling extremely weak. He found a chair no longer in use and grabbed a Karak fruit, Verona standing beside him. She had not left his side since he had started healing others.

He took a bite, but something felt wrong. The mana returned as it normally did but now he felt ill, extremely ill. He took another bite, now he felt far worse.

Without any warning, he felt like his entire stomach was coming up all at once. With the few moments he had, he lent forward. Pink vomit surged out his mouth and splashed onto the ground in front of him. Luckily there was no-one nearby to get splashed.

“By the Gods! Are you alright?” Verona rushed around, grabbing his shoulder and trying to look at his face.

Anton wiped away the remains and looked at her. She looked as if she had just witnessed a murder right in front of her.

“I'm okay,” Anton said weakly, followed by a large cough and spitting out what remained in his mouth.

“Here, drink this.”

Verona pulled out a small leather pouch and handed it to Anton. It was full of water.

“One of the Yellow Goblins had it on them. Thought I would help myself to it.”

The refreshing water was a godsend to Anton. After a few rinses, the acrid taste was gone, though his throat hurt from the stomach acid.

He directed a little bit of the prayer magic inside and took the edge off the pain.

“What was that?” Verona asked, hand still on his shoulder.

He held up the Karak fruit.

“This...this is what happened. I've had four today...and that looks like all I can have. I remember Jeff having a few and this certainly didn't happen to him.”

“Maybe it's because your a mage, perhaps it reacts differently to people that can use magic.”

“Want a bite?” Anton said teasingly.

“Absolutely not.” Verona shook her hands. “I've seen what it can do.”

Anton looked back at the pink pile in-front of him.

“Probably should get that cleaned up.”

Many other villagers were looking and talking amongst themselves. He hoped that they were not thinking that their mage was sick.

“Nothing to see here!” Verona yelled at the growing crowd. “Just a little bit of sick.”

Thanks, Verona.

A figure, not unlike a bear, moved through the crowd. Zac.

“What the bloody hell happened here?”

Anton was about to answer when Verona cut him off.

“Bad reaction to too many Karak fruits. He's fine, more worried about the mess now.”

Zac looked at the pile at his feet and left without a word. A few moments later he returned, carrying a large wooden bucket full of dirt. He poured it over the pile and spread it out loosely with his leather shoes. Within a few moments, there was virtually no sign of what had happened. The crowds too started to disperse.

“You seem to know what you're doing,” Anton said to Zac.

“Had to help the neighbours with there kids couple of times, husband was killed you see, so I know roughly what I'm doing.”

“Thank-you.”

Anton still felt a little weak when he stood, Verona was still at his side.

“Is Bertram done with the details of the battle yet?”

Zac nodded towards the main hall.

“Almost. He's just going through the gear now. Just in case you wanted to know, I've been at the wall, organizing what we can to be repaired. Do you think we should start getting more stone?”

“Tomorrow at the earliest, I would think. However, I leave it to your discretion.”

Zac placed his hand on his chin.

“Definitely tomorrow then. Everyone's going to want to sleep after today...those that can at least.”

He looked over to the dead villagers with sheets pulled over the bodies and the families surrounding them, still grieving.

“Nothing that can be done now. I'm about to head over to Bertram now. Everyone that needs healing is fine.”

Anton looked around. Most of the people needed rest, food and medical attention, whatever that was in this world. His mana was not an inexhaustible resource and he could only bump it up so much it appeared.

Finding out what worked in this world, such as healing herbs and the like was now, a new priority. One that, considering his magic, he had not thought of before. His mind flashed back to when he first met Jonathan in his blacksmith, his children came back with a basket full of herbs. They would be a good place to start.

With another item to address lodged into his mind, he walked as quickly as he dared to. Verona, and thankfully Zac, kept his pace and helped when he had a little wobble.

Bertram, Jeff and Jonathan looked quite confused when Anton hobbled over. Verona and Zac explained what had happened to Anton, Verona adding more details than he would have liked.

“I've never heard of such a thing.” Bertram said, shaking his head in disbelief, “How many have you had in one go?”

“About ten with no problems,” Jeff replied. He was looking quite worried. Worried that the fruit he had been enjoying may cause such a violent reaction.

“But nobody here is a mage,” Anton countered, “What about that one you knew from before?”

Bertram looked up in the air, recalling a lost memory.

“She may have mentioned something about 'doping' and overusing it, never thought it was real though. She was the only mage, until you, that I've ever seen. She kept to herself quite a lot.”

“Hmmm...so what have we got here then?” Anton asked, pointing to the pile of loot taken from the Yellow Goblins.

“Exactly what it look likes,” Jeff kicked the edge of the pile, “They mainly have these basic rags to cover their junk. Weapons are the same, very basic and worse than anything Jonathan could make while drunk and blind.”

Jeff picked up a wooden club and swung it around.

“I guess we'll keep the better ones in reserve then.”

Anton knelt down to the edge of the pile and started to rummage through some of the gear. Some were still wet with blood. Eventually, after going through a few pieces of what he could only describe as loincloths, he found something different.

Crudely sewn to the inside of a nondescript piece of clothing was a little satchel. It was made out of the same material, hidden so well that it would be missed unless you were trying to look for it. He pushed lightly down on it, it was hard but by the way, it moved there were some small loose objects within.

He gestured for Verona to give him Cara's knife that she kept on her waist. No one questioned where she acquired such a fine blade, Anton was grateful. He would use it later. After handing him the knife, he began to unpick the few stitches that held the satchel onto the cloth.

With a few stitches remaining he opened it and peered in. They were rocks, but the lack of light stopped him from getting a good look at them. He poured them out onto his hand and held them in the sunlight.

They were gems of some sort, of nearly every colour, size and shape. Most were either red or green. He presumed they were rubies or emeralds.

“What are these?” Verona asked, leaning down and grabbing one of the large red gems.

She held it up to the light. This gem was long and thin but the red light it cast over he face was beautiful.

“Rubies and emeralds,” Bertram answered as he trotted over, “And this one is...I don't know what these blue or purple ones are.”

The others started to have a look at the gems, smiling as they picked through the gems.

“How valuable are these?” Anton asked.

The four men stopped and looked at each other in disbelief. Verona continued to look at the gem in her fingers, allowing the red light to shine upon her face.

“This small red gem is probably worth more than a year's work of a hundred peasants in an iron mine,” Bertram explained.

Anton continued to stare for a moment.

Bertram coughed uncomfortably, “You must definitely not have your memory back yet then. We used Gold, Silver and Copper coins as currency, each one thousand times the next one up. So one silver is one thousand copper. Prices of things varied from each place. This little red one here would probably be worth five silver at least.”

Bertram looked at the rest of the small pile. “Several hundred silver coins at least there probably, since I've never seen the blue or purple ones before.”

“What could you buy with a single copper coin?”

“A piece of bread, old and a little mouldy, but otherwise edible You could be a cheap house for a few pieces of silver.”

Anton looked at the pile. There could be hundreds of secret satchels hidden throughout the mass.

“Money is of no use to us, yet. We should check all of these, see how much we can find and pool it together for future use. Oh, and nobody should steal any...”

Anton's directed the last part to Jeff, who had just tried to put a gem in his pocket.

“Get some people that can be trusted and start.”

The others nodded, calling over some healthy villagers and begun searching.

Verona was still looking at the red gem.

“Why do they have these? And why keep it on them?” she asked.

“Trophies, I suppose,” Anton replied. The other appeared to agree with him. “When everything went bad I presume that people tried to get out of the country and take everything valuable with them. These probably got taken from people heading north, past here.”

Verona passed the gem to Anton and reclaimed her knife.

“Got another one.” A villager cried.

In a few moments, four more satchels had been discovered, their contents placed into a wooden bucket.

Jeff and Zac occasionally had to slap some villagers over the head when it looked like they were going to take some, but eventually the process calmed down. Wooden buckets started to fill and the villagers started to look increasingly happy at their new-found collective wealth.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Jonathan and Bertram stood back from the villagers, discussing something. When they saw Anton looking, they waved him over. Bertram held several pieces of paper, with the characters of their written language.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Jonathan asked.

“Let's get the bad stuff out of the way.”

“Bad news is that you torched allot of ground that was used for grazing of animals,” Jonathan replied. Anton opened his mouth to reply but Jonathan stopped him. “The cows and Ix beasts all have good milk, makes good cheese. Anyway, the good news is that most of the crops are grown to the south and west, so we've got food for the immediate future.”

“How-”

“The next few months at least.” Bertram chimed in. “Even without more harvests.”

“That's good news, though I don't think this situation will last that long.” Anton looked down at the piece of paper. “What have you got there?”

“New records on what we have, produced and lost. Already cleared up quite a few things, regarding food, water and weapons. Again, we should have done this earlier.”

“I take it that we have something good to tell the people?”

Bertram cocked his head ever so slightly. Anton did not fail to miss that Verona had done this as well.

Anton nodded towards the villagers. Those that had been grieving were now talking amongst themselves. However, Anton could not help but notice that some were new faces, ones not covered in grime and tears. They did not look like grieving families, rather more like villagers that had not ever fought.

There were only three of them but they were having quite an impact. Their arms were flailing wildly, occasionally pointing towards Anton. Most seemed to take no interest in what they had to say, but a growing number were.

“Any idea who those people are?” Anton asked.

Bertram and Jonathan looked as covertly as they could.

“More of Jeffrey's mob,” Jonathan replied. “Do you want us to get rid of them?”

Anton waved the idea down. “No. It'll just help to legitimize whatever they are saying about me.”

“Are you sure it's about you?” Bertram asked.

Anton nearly rolled his eyes.

“Who else could it be about.”

He turned and faced the instigators. They seemed much less confident when they knew Anton was staring at them.

Jeffrey should know by now that his plan and woman failed...if she survived he probably would have used her, saying that in the confusion I tried to attack her. Now, how to get rid of these instigators and turn everyone against them? Again, not something that I can do effectively. I should probably use our new Commander.

“Jeff. Could you come over here a minute?”

Jeff waved, said something to Zac and jogged over.

“What's up?”

“We've got a problem brewing amongst the people. And I want you to use your new position to get rid of it.”

“So...what then?”

Anton smirked at hearing that Jeff was not completely opposed, though his enthusiasm did seem to diminish after realizing he was a part of a plan.

---[]---

A few minutes had passed, during which Anton had explained his plan. Jeff got most of it and seemed relieved that Anton's plan was basically what he wanted to say anyway.

In that short time, the grieving families group had grown somewhat. Thankfully most seemed curious as to what the fuss was about and left soon after discovering it was some sort of rally. A small but worrying number of people were starting to listen to the instigators, which Anton had decided to call them.

A few of the loyal villagers found a table and placed it in front of the main hall. Jeff stood up, faced the crowd and banged the but of his spear loudly on the table.

“Everybody! Everybody! Can I have your attention?”

Quickly the constant talking amongst the villagers died down, all turning their attention to Jeff. He swayed a little, perhaps not use to so much attention or responsibility. The only time he had been given such things, in Anton's time here, was giving orders to fighting villagers. What Anton had asked him to do was probably well out of his comfort zone.

He cleared his throat and began.

“Everybody listen up! Today we did very well, far better than most of us expected. Though...that doesn't help with those that have lost people close to them.”

The villagers looked to one another, then towards the dead villagers.

“Right now we are preparing a plan to cou...co...get them back for what they've done to us. This may seem like it's too soon after what has just happened, but I know that we need to act fast and together. That is why a new council has been formed, with my father at its head, myself as Commander, Zac as Chief Builder and Jonathan as head of Armoury. There are other positions to be filled which will be explained later. With this new system, we can finally become truly organized and start to take the fight to them.”

Hope grew in the eyes of the villagers.

“If we give up now, all that we have done and all those thousands that have died before us will have been in vain. But...we need to continue to push forward and see this thing through to victory!”

A cheer rang throughout the village.

Anton did not know much about effective speeches, but Jeff seemed to have found the right tone with the villagers. Hope for the future and fear of returning to the chaotic past in a single moment. Jeff glanced at Anton, a little hesitation in his face. Anton nodded in approval, happiness evident on his face. Anton had only given him the necessary pieces of information and a general direction. Quite a bit extra was thrown in there, but it did the trick.

The momentum seemed to be in their favour, but Anton looked towards the instigators. They were talking rapidly amongst themselves. He knew they would be doing something very quickly.

“You're just a puppet!” one of the instigators yelled towards Jeff.

Here we go.

“You just do whatever that mage tells you.” Another one of the instigators yelled out. This one had moved a fair distance away from the first, probably to try and make it look like a more widespread notion.

“Why should we listen to him, he couldn't care less about someone getting killed. He probably doesn't even know their names!”

Anton could not disagree with that. He tried his best to not let the accusations visibly get to him, but some of the villagers seemed to have growing doubts. He remained silent, anything he said right now would be in haste and probably get turned on him.

The others around him were beginning to look concerned.

“He probably just plans to use us, then escape with everything of value!” The third one spoke up, as far away as he could be from the other two.

The crowds did not appear to believe this outburst as readily.

Not bad. The last one was a bit of a stretch. Perhaps that's because the other one was not a lie. But what can I do now?

Anton clenched his fists, an attempt to calm down. His previous actions in the abandoned home had steered him towards the more violent actions. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to stand up in front of the crowd and shout down the instigators.

He knew, from past experiences, that right now the crowd would turn against him. The doubts in their heads would crystallize and it would take many months, if not years, to undo it.

While Anton was desperately trying to figure out what to say, more things were being loudly shouted at him. Most came from the instigators, as they continued to move throughout the crowd, but some were coming from those with tear soaked faces. He could hardly yell at the grieving families.

“Why didn't you do more?!”

That almost got to him, nearly enough for Anton to lash out. Verona grabbed and held his clenched fist at the last second, bringing him back to reality.

Parts of the crowd were quickly starting to whip themselves into a frenzy, and Anton's lack of response was not helping.

“How dare you!” A voice from behind blared out.

It was an older woman’s voice, one that he had heard before. Bertram's wife, Sybil.

He turned around and watched Sybil, furiously waving a wooden cane, as she approached.

“What have YOU done to keep your loved ones safe? Huh?”

The crowd went deathly silent.

“I've been alive long enough to see what happens when a few shit-stirrers, like you three, get everyone riled up.”

Anton was visibly shocked at hearing her swear. Verona tugged on his hand, also looking shocked and concerned. The others looked this way too, except Bertram, who wore a faint smile.

“What would have happened if we hadn't done all the things he had said? Hmmm? Building the wall, organizing the defences, getting us to start looking out for one another again. Bringing us together when we're tearing what little we had apart. We'd be dead, that's what.”

She pointed her cane at the first instigator, “Do you really think that man that you worship would have done better?”

She laughed, though no-one else did.

“Why I even trusted him in the same room as my son...I'll never know. So, instead of doing what saved almost a thousand of our lives, what would you have done?”

The instigators looked to be in a state of panic, they must have expected they would not need to be involved any further.

“Jeffrey...he would...” A collective groan came from the crowd.

Sybil cut him off before he could recover. “He would do exactly what all men like him would do; take everything of value and run away when it went bad. Which it would have. Jeffrey is not as smart as he would like to think.”

All three instigators looked horrified. Anton felt a serious level of smugness that their word was being turned against them. The stares of the people started to turn from him and towards the three, some even taking steps away, further isolating them. Obviously, Jeffrey was not a popular man, definitely more so if most people knew about Verona. He made a note in his head to thank her later.

The second instigator tried to speak again.

“L...Listen, Cara is missing, and she was last-”

Anton dreaded having to explain that one now. A hand fell onto the man's shoulder. He turned around and whimpered.

Avery held his shoulder tight and turned him around. He then grabbed the other shoulder before he could move further, stopping him from running away.

“I think it's time, you and your friends leave...for good.” Avery's calm voice travelled throughout the silent plaza. Cheers and heckles quickly sprung up.

A dozens spear-wielding villagers surrounded each of the instigators.

I didn't know I was so popular with the military. Guess that being at the front paid off.

They knew it was over for now. Rocks and pieces of junk were thrown at the instigators. Some hit the armed villagers but they did not flinch.

All three were headed to the centre. They quickly gave up their resistance.

“Fine. We'll be back!” One yelled while walking to the south.

“No,” Avery said, not letting the instigators past. “You and your friends aren't going to come back. You get nothing from us. You're on your own now.”

The three looked horrified. They and their friends must have been sneaking away food from the communal meals.

Jeff stepped off the table and walked towards the three, the crowd parting as he moved through them. He stopped just in front of them.

“I thought he was my friend. Guess I was wrong.” Jeff said. He lent back and brought his fist straight into the lead instigator's stomach. The man curled over without a sound, the other two stopping him from falling over.

“Get out of here.”

That was close. Didn't realize Avery would be on my side. Still, I'm just thankful that this has been dealt with without setting myself as some kind of brutal dictator. I wonder how this council thing will work out.

No one said or did anything as the instigators crawled away. Jeff said nothing as he made his way back to his stand.

Once up there he did not speak for the longest time, staring at the ground.

Eventually, he looked up, took a deep breath and motioned for Anton to get up on the stage.

“Alright. What do you want to know?” Anton asked the swarming villagers.

---[]---

Anton spent the time until dusk explaining and re-explaining to the villagers what the new council would mean for them. The villagers seemed hopeful about having organization and direction again.

He was surprised when he realized how late it was. Each time he would finish with one crowd, most would leave, but those that stayed had even more difficult questions. Some were about things that he had no idea about, but he gave the best answers he could.

Most villagers seemed to like him, or at least understand him with these smaller, almost group sessions. Some even openly admitted that they were scared and afraid of the changes and of him, but after having those changes explained they came around.

Anton did not fail to notice that some of the grieving family members had left, following the instigators to the south. Luckily it was not too many. Regardless he told Jeff to keep an eye on them, the thought of more people turning to Jeffrey was unsettling.

The dead had been cremated, as was the custom of the village. It was a sobering reminder of what had happened.

The wounded had been brought inside the houses. Most were doing well but some were still in bad shape and he knew that he could not use the prayer power indefinitely, especially if he had to leave or was killed. He had missed his chance to ask Jonathan's kids, he would do that in the morning's council meeting.

The council had agreed to meet tomorrow morning to discuss the next phase of activity and most had gone to bed.

Anton too was getting ready for bed. He had changed into is old earth clothes, hopefully letting his villager garments air out. It went without saying that the odour of the village was quite poor, he hoped to have a bath or something soon. There was nothing to hang them on though. He was trying to fashion something out of the furniture, his mind able to wonder slightly.

Jeffrey's followers were a little worrying. The fact that everyone wanted them to just go rather than kill them was a little odd, considering what they were trying to do. I still don't think that everyone will just go with their death...yet. He can still be useful, for now. In the meantime, I can use this to my advantage...somehow.

A knock on the door broke his train of thoughts.

A silvery head peaked around the slightly ajar door. She looked a little sheepish and waved when he looked and smiled at her.

“Hey, sorry I'm late,” Verona said as she entered the room.

“It's fine. Have you-”

Anton turned to face her, words failing him.

Her usual villager clothes had been replaced with some sort of light grey coloured nightgown, coming just above her shoulders and hanging very low on her chest. The sleeves were also too long, covering almost all of her feet and well over her hands. It was definitely several sizes too large for her. She carried her spear in one hand, her armour set under the other arm and a small bag in the other.

Anton turned his attention away, trying not to ogle her more than he already had.

“W...Where did you get that?”

“Oh, this? I asked Sybil if she had anything more comfortable to sleep in. She brought out this.”

She started walking over to the window, where Anton was. He tried to keep his eyes on her face but found her walking very distracting.

“Said it was something from when she was younger.”

Can't imagine what for.

After resting the spear on the wall to the right of the bed and twirled around, enjoying the more comfortable clothes.

“You getting' ready to sleep yet?” she asked.

Anton tried to look her in the eyes but was distracted by the way her breasts rose and fell with every step and breath. A wicked smirk grew on her face.

Oh, come on.

Verona did not say anything as Anton stammered for a response. She took advantage of his pause, placing the small bag and armour set near the wall and jumping onto the bed. She stretched out her whole body, her body going limp as she relaxed.

“Did Sybil show you where your room is?” Anton asked after regaining his composure.

She glanced at him for an instant before looking back at the ceiling.

“There wasn't a bed there yet...and I'm not sleeping on a floor again. Ever.”

“If we ever leave here, on an adventure or something, I think it'll be that way again.”

Verona groaned and turned onto her left, away from Anton. She worked the animal skin covers from underneath and pulled them over herself.

“At least not for tonight, please.”

Anton had given up trying to arrange something with his clothes and just placed them over the chair.

“I take it that you're staying in my room again?” Anton said teasingly.

Verona looked at him, her brows furrowed in concern.

“I...I felt...cold when I saw that woman stab you. Cold and alone. So, you need someone to keep an eye out for you.”

“Hm.” was all that Anton could reply. He knew that meant that she would stay for the night. Her reasoning brought back images of burning Cara alive. It dominated his mind, suppressing all other types of thoughts.

Another set of eyes to keep an eye out would come in handy, especially someone that was good in a fight.

Now though, he just wanted to sleep. He moved to the other side of the bed.

“In that case, I'll take the other side. If I move about in my sleep you need to tell me.”

Verona nodded and shuffled away, just a fraction.

There was only one candle that lit the room. He blew it out, the only light now was the little that came from the outside. Thankfully it was enough to see with.

He crawled into bed as well, keeping his hands by his side. The warmth from Verona had already travelled quite far.

“Good night Verona.”

There was no answer. Eventually, he felt shuffling through the sheets.

“I will get stronger any way I can.”

He turned to face her, her silver hair shining underneath the soft moonlight.

“I need to get stronger, not just physically, to be useful. I barely understood what you said out there...and...I can't read or write.”

She pulled the covers half-way over her had at saying that one.

“It won't be easy, I know. But something tells me that it's the right thing to do. Can you help me?”

Is this my patron gods doing?

She seemed quite confident. He brought his arm out from underneath the covers and patted her on the head.

“Of course, and thank-you. That means quite a lot to me.”

She chuckled and closed her eyes, burrowing into the pillow. He removed his hand and brought it back to his side.

He closed his eyes, sleep quickly starting to overcome him. He felt movement again, peering out his right eye. Verona had moved a little closer and seemed to be asleep.

Anton felt glad that there was someone here that he could rely on.