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Chapter Eleven

We set out on the last phase of our journey, and the next days passed in relative peace. We fell into a comfortable travel routine, bringing us closer to Everspring each day. On the third night, however, our peace was briefly disturbed. I was jolted awake by urgent whispers and the sound of rustling armor.

"Bandits! On your feet, you layabouts!" Doan roared.

Before I could ask what was happening, torches were lit, weapons were out, and they had formed into a defensive fighting position with me in the center.

The bandits, clearly unprepared for such a well-armed and battle-ready group, quickly had second thoughts. The moon, much like the moon on Earth, but a shade of light green, was about half full and illuminated the ground. The shapes moved toward us while ducking down with a sad display of weapons. Even in the dark, I could tell this band of baddies were wearing the barest scraps of armor.

Once again, I felt helpless. I couldn't handle a sword well, even though Caden had given me a few lessons here and there. I was more likely to cut myself or accidentally stab one of my companions. Instead, I armed myself with daggers I’d been using to chop meat and vegetables. Thanks to Doan, they were razor damn sharp.

Luckily, they didn’t need my poor fighting skills, as the bandits turned tail and ran away.

By the end of the week, we were spending more and more time foraging for food. During one of these foraging expeditions, I witnessed Mira's impressive skills with a longbow.

She and I had gone in search of edible mushrooms and more wild onions which seemed to grow in abundance, when she motioned for me to freeze. She pointed, and about a hundred feet away, she spotted a deer grazing in a nearby clearing. Before I could process what was happening, Mira's bow was in her hand, she nocked an arrow, drew the feathers to her cheek, and let fly. The arrow whispered through the air, finding its mark with deadly precision.

Awestruck, I turned to Mira. "That was incredible," I said, unable to hide my admiration. "Could you teach me how to use a bow?"

Mira smiled, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Of course," she replied. "It's a useful skill to have. Let me see if I can find you something to practice with. But first, we need to prep the deer.”

“Now that’s one thing I’m useful for.”

She walked toward the deer's corpse. I happened to glance down and noticed the area around my feet seemed to brighten, revealing patches of edible mushrooms as I moved.

I gasped and looked back up, hoping she hadn't noticed I'd accidentally triggered some innate magic again.

Thankfully, the ground stopped glowing seconds later.

I quickly bent down and plucked a few mushrooms as cover for inspecting the ground. Nope. No glow. What had that been all about? Mira hadn't seemed to notice. She was focused on the deer.

I joined her a moment later.

"You know," I said, breaking the silence, "I feel pretty useless sometimes. Everyone here has these incredible combat skills, and I'm just—well, me."

Mira paused her work and looked at me, her expression softening. "Varix, don't sell yourself short. Not everyone has to be an accomplished fighter. Your skills are just as valuable."

I raised an eyebrow. "My skills? You mean my ability to swing a sword at a tree and miss?"

She laughed, a warm sound echoing through the clearing. "Don’t sell yourself short. Your cooking skills, for one. They're unrivaled. Also, I've fought for commanders who possessed less than half of your speaking skills. You motivated us, and now we have money to bring home to our families."

"Well, I suppose I do make a mean stew," I conceded with a grin, face growing hot at her compliments.

"More than that," Mira continued, her tone becoming more serious. "You're a warm and funny companion. Your strange speech patterns and odd sayings keep us guessing, and they keep me laughing.”

"Thanks, Mira. I really appreciate the little pep talk," I said honestly.

"Anytime, Varix. Now, let us return to camp with this bounty," Mira nodded once at the fallen deer if you'd like. Tomorrow, I can teach you how to use a bow."

"Really?" I said with genuine excitement.

"It would be my pleasure."

"I'd like that."

"And I would like to teach you."

"You know, Mira, you keep complimenting my cooking. Are you sure you're not just buttering me up to ensure you get the best cuts?"

She smirked. "Caught me. But honestly, Varix, your cooking is one of the highlights of our days."

I paused, genuinely touched. "Well, Mira, I'll keep cooking as long as you promise to keep shooting those impressive arrows. Deal?"

"Deal," she replied, her smile genuine. "And soon enough, you'll be a bow expert."

"I'll settle for mildly dangerous."

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I helped Mira drag the deer back to camp. Once we arrived, we hung it up for dressing. Mira expertly drained the blood and then offered me a small amount.

"Would you like to try some?" she asked, holding a little cup filled with the dark liquid.

I hesitated, but some of the soldiers were staring at me. "Sure, why not?" I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Taking a tentative sip, I immediately regretted my decision. The metallic taste was overwhelming, and it took all my willpower not to gag. I forced a smile, hoping Mira wouldn't notice my discomfort.

"Interesting flavor," I managed to say.

Mira grinned. "I wouldn't drink deer blood unless I had to. I find it repugnant."

The other soldiers, including Caden, laughed at my discomfort, but it was good-natured. Caden clapped me on the shoulder. "I'd sooner drink ale swilled with piss. You're a braver man than me."

"Gee, thanks." I shot a sharp look at Mira.

"You're a good sport, Varix," Mira said with a genuine smile. "That reminds me. I have something for you."

Mira went to the supply wagon and rummaged around in the back. She came up with a short bow and a quiver of arrows.

Caden looked on and nodded. "Maybe this will trigger your memory? Shooting a bow is something we learn as children."

"I hope so, friend," I told Caden.

Caden wandered off, and Mira sat, patting the ground beside her. "Come on, Varix. Let's get you set up," she said.

Curiosity piqued--I joined her. Mira held up the bow, her fingers moving deftly as she explained the stringing process.

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"Watch closely," she instructed. "You need to learn how to do this yourself."

I watched intently as Mira demonstrated the art of stringing a bow. Her movements were fluid, practiced, and precise.

"First, you need to brace the bow against your thigh," she explained, positioning the lower limb against her leg. "Then, you take the bowstring and loop one end over the top nock."

Her fingers worked deftly, securing the string in place. I found myself admiring not just her skill, but the graceful way she handled the weapon.

"Now comes the tricky part," Mira continued. "You need to bend the bow to attach the other end of the string. It takes strength, so don't be discouraged if you can't do it immediately. It's easier to do standing, but you won't always have time to get to your feet."

She demonstrated, leaning over and using her body weight to flex the bow while simultaneously sliding the loop of the string into place on the lower nock. The bow sprang to life, taut and ready for use.

She bent the bow again and removed the string.

"Your turn," Mira said, handing me the two pieces.

I tried to mimic her actions. My first attempt was clumsy; the bow slipped from my grip, and I nearly smacked myself in the face.

Mira chuckled softly. "It's okay, Varix. Try again. Remember to brace it firmly against your thigh."

I nodded. On my second attempt, I secured the top of the string, but struggled with bending the bow.

"Here, let me help," Mira offered, moving closer. She placed her hands over mine and guided them into the correct position.

With her assistance, I finally managed to string the bow correctly. I grinned.

"Well done!" Mira beamed, squeezing my shoulder. "You're a quick learner."

Her hand lingered for a moment, and I enjoyed the contact. It had been a long time since I'd experienced such a casual, friendly touch. In my past life as Vincent, I hadn't had a meaningful relationship in a couple of years. And as Morthisal, dark lords didn't inspire warm, fuzzy feelings in others.

The bow felt solid in my hands, and as I tested its flexibility, I found something satisfying about how it bent and sprang back.

"I like it," I admitted, running my fingers along the smooth wood.

Mira nodded approvingly.

She showed me how to wear the quiver, adjusting the straps so it sat comfortably on my back. Once I was all set up, Mira stood and motioned for me to follow.

"You're going to be an expert in no time. Come on, Varix. I'll show you how to shoot. Don't be surprised if you have trouble hitting anything right away. It will take practice."

"I'm up for it."

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She was right. I could not even hit a tree until I was on my last of a dozen arrows. The point slid into the trunk's side and burst through.

I lifted the bow and exclaimed, "I did it!"

I gathered the arrows we could find, cleaned the tips, and returned them to the quiver. After another round, I regularly hit the tree and sank them into the soft wood. Retrieved once again, I continued to practice while Mira looked on and kept encouraging me. After an hour of this, she said it was enough for the day.

"Come on, Varix. Let's find some cool water. I'm parched, and I think I still have some of the deer's blood on me."

That sounded good to me.

We walked for about ten minutes. We came across a pond with clean, clear water. Mira leaned over, put her hand in the liquid, and drew it to her mouth. She took a sip, turned to the side, and spit it out.

"Tastes clean," she said and took another sip.

"How do you know?"

"A skill developed in the war. Water was scarce. There's a taste. Some of us can tell when it's spoiled. This is clean."

I joined her and also tasted the water and agreed it tasted clean.

Mira glanced around again, unclasped her greaves, and set them aside. Her breastplate had buckles on the side. She turned, lifted her arms, and nodded at me to unfasten them.

"Uh," I said.

"What's wrong, Varix? Never seen a woman out of her armor before?"

I've never seen a woman in her armor before.

"I have. It's just that we're, you know, work friends," I said dumbly as I worked on freeing her from the buckled armor. It was boiled leather and not as heavy as I would have thought.

"Work friends?" Mira laughed, her voice melodic to my ears. "There's your amusing manner of speech again."

She lowered her bracers, and turned. "Do you see any deer blood on me?"

She now wore just her small clothes. The fabric was rough spun and form-fitting.

"No. No blood."

"Ah. That's good news." She turned around.

"Get that shirt off, Varix. I'll have a look at you.”

I shrugged out of my shirt and laid it next to her armor. She splashed me playfully with a bit of water. "Hey!"

Her hand darted forward and grabbed my amulet. "You should remove this so 'tis not lost if you get in the water."

I recoiled from her touch, flailing backward to get away. I lost my balance and fell ungracefully on my backside.

"I... I just remembered something urgent I need to do back at camp," I stammered, already turning to leave. "Sorry, Mira. Maybe another time!"

"I'm sorry, Varix!" Mira called after me as I scrambled to my feet.

"No. No. It's fine. We're fine."

I picked up my clothes and hastily hurried away. Son of a bitch! Here I was, presented with a beautiful woman who seemed interested in me, and I couldn't even enjoy the moment without risking exposure. If she had managed to remove my amulet, I would have been a dead man.

I stumbled through the woods, shocked that I had almost been revealed. Of all the ways my companions could discover my identity, having my amulet removed by a partially clothed Mira was not at the top of my list.

I decided against returning to camp right away. Instead, I focused on the forest floor for any useful herbs or spices we could add to our meals, and as a way to clear my head.

I stumbled upon a patch of unfamiliar plants with vibrant purple leaves. I considered adding them to our culinary arsenal for a moment, but then I remembered my Earth-world wisdom: 'Leaves of three, let it be.' I decided to play it safe and stick to the herbs I recognized—no need to add 'accidental poisoner' to my list of titles.

As I pushed through a thick patch of undergrowth, I suddenly found myself in a small clearing. To my surprise, a massive warrior stood there, his armor gleaming in the dappled sunlight. A huge mace rested on his shoulder, held effortlessly in one hand. There was an odd white glow around him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, stepping back. "I didn't mean to intrude."

The warrior's head snapped towards me, his eyes widening in shock. "You can see me?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and suspicion.

I frowned, confused by his question. "Of course, I can see you. Why wouldn't I? You're huge. Nice mace."

The man glanced at his weapon, then studied me intently, his gaze sweeping me from head to toe. "I'm dead. That's why it's strange that you can see and hear me."

"You're dead? You can't be dead. I can see you…" I trailed off.

"Maybe. Doesn’t change the fact that I was Killed by the Dark Lord Morthisal. You wouldn’t happen to know him now, would you? Or know where he can be found?"

“What? Who?” I laughed nervously. “Is he from around here?”

He let out a heavy sigh. "Leave off, Morthisal. I know you. I’d know your stench anywhere."

“You’re a ghost with a sense of smell?” I covered the fact that my blood had suddenly turned ice cold in my veins with a nervous laugh.

“What’s with the disguise? Never took you for one to hide among the humans. An ego as big as yours shouldn't allow it.”

"What? No, you're mistaken. I'm not a dark lord," I protested, trying to steady my voice.

The warrior shook his head, a grim smile on his face. "I'm not confused. I am the ghost of Garin Thorneblade, a paladin you yourself slew."

I stood there, frozen in disbelief. A ghost?

"But... but I'm not Morthisal," I stammered, desperately trying to maintain my cover. "My name is Varix. Varix Vel'Naris."

Garin's spectral form seemed to flicker slightly as he stepped closer. "You may have changed your dark appearance, but I would recognize your essence. The question is, why can you see me when no one else can?”

I sighed heavily and looked around for signs of Mira or any of the others from our camp. I lowered my voice, “Look, dude. I was minding my own business, on a whole-ass other world, when your pal Morthisal swapped souls with me. I opened my eyes, and I was in his throne room. One of his goblin minions helped me escape. Her name’s Lady Churl, and she’s pretty cool. Anyway. I didn’t ask to be here.” I touched my face. “This is what I really look like. My real name is Vince. Vincent Logan.”

Garin crossed his arms across his impressive and armored chest. “That is some story.”

I noticed Garin wasn’t as substantial as I had first thought. Through him, I could almost make out a tree behind his back. I took a couple of steps toward him.

“You can no longer harm me, Morthisal!” Garin declared and stood his ground.

I stuck my hand out, and it passed right through his body. Threads of white mist followed my hand as I yanked it back.

The big paladin pulled away from me and lowered his hands. His face became a storm cloud of conflict. “T’is true what you say."

"I know."

"You are not the Dark Lord Morthisal, so how can you see me? I must dwell on this. Until we meet again.”

"Meet again?"

The ghost faded from sight.

Great. Just great. Not only was I trying to hide from my companions that I was a former dark lord, but now I was seeing dead people.