Ashe had just felt safe enough to close her eyes when she heard the voices. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying but she didn't think she recognized anyone she knew. She went to stand but was immediately hit by a bout of dizziness. She controlled her fall so that she landed on the wall with her right shoulder and then slowly walked towards the entrance of the shallow cave she had taken shelter in.

She had left her club like staff leaning against the opposite wall but at this point it wouldn't have been of much use to her beyond as a poor excuse for a crutch. Instead she drew the arming sword she had at her side and tried to assume as an intimidating pose as possible, considering the lack of about half of her blood. She did not know who these people were but, outside of her party, everyone in this region was a presumed hostile. She stood still and focused on three things, listening, readiness, and keeping her body from crumbling to the ground like a stuffed children's toy.

“Let's start on the one near the edge, the other two are probably too far for Spot to have smelt anything.” The voice sounded like it belonged to an older man with a poorly named hound.

“Yes, yes, sure. And when we find nothing we're retiring your peshmies Harris, in fact, no. We're demoting them to emergency rations.” said a woman. Wait… peshmies? Oh gods then these people were..

A loud yelp was followed by the unmistakable “twang” of a crossbow releasing a bolt. Thankfully it seemed that the young lad that had carelessly crested the lip of her cave had rarely ever held a crossbow before, let alone practised with one. The projectile simply bounced harmlessly against the back wall.

“Drop that, this instant you damned Reader boy or they will have to rename you to Red after I'm done with you!” Ashe was yelling but inwardly she was relieved, Readers were hopelessly, annoyingly, useless with anything combat oriented and could not rightly be considered hostiles. She did not know why they were here but there was very little chance that they were related to the rotters.

“S-s-someone's in here!” yelled the boy that was wearing aggressively yellow shirt, and blue pants.

A new person with a crossbow appeared, this one wearing a deep blue shirt, he was quite a bit older than the boy with the annoying shirt, his twirled moustache and stubble both had several grey hairs while a maroon band of fabric held back mostly black hair. He didn't look to be any more experienced or comfortable with the weapon but at least he hid it better.

“Starlight above, Jacob she's injured!” said yet another person with a crossbow, this one a middle aged woman in a grey laced bodice over a bright green shirt, and a short darker grey skirt over dark green leather pants.

“Very, and if you people keep yelling I might just give in and die before I see more interesting colour combinations. Who's next?” diplomacy had never been Ashe’s strong suit but she figured almost being shot earned her some leeway.

“Hello there… My name is Jonah Azure, we’re Readers as you’ve clearly realised, and we can provide aid if you could kindly provide us with your name and the reason you are hurt. We’d like to know what to be on the lookout for.”

That was fair. Ashe nodded.

-

Jonah had been somewhat relieved when they had found the red haired woman. A person was better than bears or wolves moving to their annual safe haven after all. That feeling was short lived however as he better took in the picture before him. The woman was wounded. Recently. Furthermore she was armed and, judging by the metal piled behind her, had been heavily armoured, so not only had she been in a fight but she had likely expected to be.

“Hello there… My name is Jonah Azure, we’re Readers as you’ve clearly realised, and we can provide aid if you could kindly provide us with your name and the reason you are hurt. We’d like to know what to be on the lookout for.” The woman nodded.

“My name is Ashe Thrice, there were others with me that might still be alive somewhere in these woods. And the thing that almost gutted me is also still around.”

That was significantly more helpful than the woman’s, Ashe’s, previous rude remarks, if significantly more worrying. Jonah turned to Harris, Jacob, and Magtha. “We should get everyone in the gorge quickly... I will look after our new friend, Jacob, run and get Anne, your brother and any of the other wards if you see them.” Hopefully someone among the kids knew exactly where Renni was. He then turned back to Ashe. “Do not worry, there’s no surgeons among us but several of us know how to handle wounds well enough.” then thinking that “well enough” was not very encouraging he added; “If it worsens we also have some elixir for emergencies.”

Ashe took a deep breath, “So I take it you didn’t see any of my people as you were getting here?”

“I am sorry no, but there will be several people looking for my ward soon, maybe we will find your friends too.”

“You lost your kid?”

“No her sister sent her out for blueberries, we have always thought this forest a safe place. Please tell me, what were you fighting? There’s usually no people here, other than us that is.”

Ashe had sat back down at that point, her wound didn’t look too bad but it was clearly still hurting, she still had a good grip on her sword though.

Jonah carefully placed his crossbow, one out a total of four in their caravan and in truth they were only meant to be a show for bandits, on the ground and he slowly approached the injured Ashe. “Do you mind if I take a look before Magtha returns with the supplies?” Ashe reluctantly moved her hand and slightly turned her injured side towards him, she clearly didn’t like relying on strangers, a generally wise philosophy, but she seemed to know that her odds for a full recovery were much better with their help, the fact they were also clearly Readers probably helped as most people thought of them as pacifists.

Ashe hissed slightly as he put pressure to the sides of her wound and lifted the poorly applied bandages. The wound was not too deep, and shouldn’t hurt that much, looking closer Jonah thought that it had not been a blade that Ashe, it didn’t really seem like a cut at all. Rather it looked as if something sharp had pierced her and ripped some flesh as it exited almost like a hook. Jonah thought he could also see the early signs of infection, but the wound seemed too fresh for that, so he assumed he was mistaken.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“So, about the thing that did this… do you know what a Blight is?”

“Some form of nature spirit? I’ve heard that the Morenise don’t really care for that type of thing.” Jonah said carefully. It was an understatement to say the least, the city states of Tel’Morén were not a monolith but there was an increasingly hostile attitude toward things that reminded them of what they called the Darkened days. It was a source of worry for Readers, their own tradition having very little relation to Sol.

Ashe snorted “You could say that, but I can’t fault them in this case. Blights are mean bastards. We, me and my group, are mercenaries and there was a contract in Thiros, apparently some Dark Druids passed through there and were not careful enough. We tracked them to this area but didn’t count on them having a pet Blight. The gods damned thing is made of wood. It can hide better than anything of its size has any right to and it’s damn hard to kill a fucking tree with a sword or a club. I don’t know why you’re here Reader but I suggest you leave, Sollics can be bastards but they have good reason to send us after dark Druids. They are dangerous.”

Jonah sighed at this. “Thank you for your advice but this is actually good news for us. Druids are not interested in our possessions and the Circle of Decay have never attacked Readers, they are dangerous perhaps but their animosity does not extend to us.”

Ashe snorted at that. “Suit yourself, you might want to phrase this differently with some of my friends though, if they’re still alive that is.” The acknowledgement that her companions might not have made it, was delivered in the same careless tone, almost as an afterthought that wouldn’t really affect her. Jonah tried to read deeper into the mercenary’s expression, there was something there, beyond the discomfort of her wound, a tightening around her eyes. She had confidence that they were still alive and a numbness to the prospect of losing people, something likely shared by many in her line of work, but under that there was still a hint of worry.

Mercenaries are still just people I suppose. He thought. Losing someone you know can never be too easy.

-

Despite what she would have thought Renni did not shriek. Instead she froze in shock as the man collapsed not five metres away from her.

He landed on his side among Tell’Abim’s roots and rolled on his back and kept coughing. The man was wearing what looked like boiled leather armour on his shoulder and part of his chest with a large leather satchel on his side, all over a long open robe of dark blue colour. The tunic under that would’ve been a lighter shade of blue if not for all of the blood. Some of the blood had dripped down when the man had coughed it up just then, but lower Renni could see a massive open wound in the gut, something had pierced this person below the stomach and it looked to already be festering somehow. It was amazing that this person was still alive enough to writhe and moan as he was.

The world seemed to stop for a few moments and then it lurched forward again all too fast. Renni rushed forward without thinking, she fell to her knees next to the stranger, letting go of her walking stick and placed her hands on the wound, trying to slow the bleeding by applying pressure. Some part of her knew that this was pointless, the gash was too large, and the man had bled too much already and even if that were not true, she did not have any medical supplies or the knowledge to use them. She knew that a surgeon could possibly help, but there was no one like that with the Readers, and the caravan would be at Redstone by now, it’d take the better part of an hour just to get there.

Renni’s breath started coming faster as she tried to think of something, anything that she could do to help.

The man grabbed her wrist with his own bloody hand and Renni screamed and almost pulled back but she managed to somewhat compose herself and turn to look at the man. His skin was darker than her own, a rare thing this far east, and his eyes were the same deep blue flecked with silver as her Da’s. The man coughed some more but then he managed a few words, the pain, coughing, and thick western accent made it hard but Renni understood.

“Blight… cough.. Dr.. cough …RUN”

At least she understood the shouted bit at the end, but she didn’t run, she understood that she should, something had hurt this person, and it could hurt her too. She should leave but she stayed there on her knees, trembling hands putting pressure on the fatal wound.

She could not leave. It was not bravery that kept her, or a sense of duty, though these things were also in the maelstrom of emotions that was her heart right then. But ultimately she stayed because of the cold paralysing dread that seemed to have dug its claws around her spine and chest. She felt tears stream down her face, and a powerful need to run, but the forest that had seemed so bright and beautiful a mere minute ago now looked hostile, every shadow was darker and deeper, unknown dangers hiding within, she could not move.

Something touched her shoulder. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and looked. It was one of the myriad leaves on Tell’Abim’s branches. A second later another leaf landed on her hands as if trying to comfort her or help her, a moment later two more leaves fell, this time on the man’s chest, more followed.

A breeze blew through the glade, more leaves fell but these did not reach her. Moments after they had landed the leaves were picked up by the wind. Renni looked around, her breath catching as she followed the movement. The wind picked up more, it started whistling as it passed through the branches and between the trees that were closest. Dozens, hundreds of leaves were now flying around the glade, they were moving faster and faster in a large circle centred on Tell’Abim then separated to form a much smaller circle around Renni herself before streaming away from her to again join the bigger circle. Then as this dance seemed to reach its crescendo, Renni noticed the light, the tree still had thousands upon thousands of leaves in their branches but the only leaves that seemed to cast a shadow were the ones that were whirling around them, their combined shadow encircled Tell’Abim’s roots. Roots that she realised were not the same as before. There were fewer of them and they grew in gentle curves, crossing and forming a beautiful and complex three dimensional pattern.

Then as quickly as it had started everything seemed to halt. Renni blinked and it had all gone back, the roots were again overlapping and natural looking, the wind had stopped. Not all was the same, the forest felt different again, not as bright and safe as it always had before that day, but not as dark and insidious as it had seemed after the man’s warning that she run. The man was also different, he was no longer coughing and his eyes were closed but he was still breathing, where before there was a horrifying almost somehow infected wound, now she could see a mark. It did not look like a scar or paint or the tattoos some of the older folk in the caravan had. Rather it looked like a pale birthmark on the strangers dark skin, it was the pattern she had seen the roots form in combination with the leaves and Renni thought she could see a golden tint to it.

Renni stood. Her knees felt weak, her feet were numb and heavy. She walked up to Tell’Abim’s thick trunk and she fell on them, her arms stretching to hug as much as she could.

“Thank you.” She started crying again.