“We've got rats.” Bells yelled, swapping out his dagger for a pair of short swords. “I don't see the handler.”

George grabbed David by the collar. “We are dead if you don't fix at least one hand.” George's eyes were wild, spinning every which way.

David glared at the man before grabbing at yarrow. He never tried this with more than one, but he figured life and death were excellent situations to experiment. He nearly paused at that, the thought of experimenting in desperate situations before deciding that he would avoid it after this point. For all he knew, his head would explode.

Fortunately his head did not explode, but the next part was going to suck. He focused on his desire to heal before he spat part of the concoction on George's hands. David grabbed and worked the chewed bits into the bandages and the wounds themselves, stopping George from removing the disgusting mixture. Despite everything, David knew the next part was going to be worse as he pulled the man in close and forced the remaining bits into George's mouth.

“Swallow, you will have your hands back shortly.”

“DAI!” Bill snapped. “We don't have time.”

David looked at the rats to find they were being protected in a shell by Mist. Sweat beaded down as her hands began to as her hands shook. It was less a shell and more a wall, David realized as the horde was pressed against it and started to stack on top of each other. The wall stood the same height as Rognar, yet the monsters that Bells called rats were making it over the top. Princess, Bells, Bill, and Rognar were busy killing every single creature that came over.

David did not know how they were called rats. Princess looked more like a rat than these things. They didn't have the same number of eyes, legs, tails, or really anything. The only consistent thing were their size, fur, and spikes. They weren't proper rat size but rather looked between that of a small rat and a large mouse. Their fur was dark, beyond black. Light seemed to be sucked into it, letting the spikes on their back begin to glow.

“Kill them before their spikes get hard to look at.” Rognar declared, as he continued to do that.

David immediately stomped on the closest one. To his surprise, the spike did not penetrate his boot but rather seemed to...pop releasing a strange liquid.

His world narrowed at that. His, Bills, and Princess's job was to take care of the mass that was falling over their wall. Rognar and Bells swiped at those getting over the top. Mist kept the wall up and everyone kept Mist from being distracted. It was only George who wasn't doing anything. Instead, he stared at his hands.

It was those hands that broke David out of his stupor. He felt it as the claws easily punctured his skin as George twisted him to stare daggers at David.

“What did you do?”

“I healed your hands.” David spat back. “And we're dead if you don't help. Mist can't do this all day.”

“George,” Rognar yelled, “If your hands are good we need a big burst.”

George's hate filled eyes never left David as he returned to stomping rats. Still, George began making the signs to increase the heat he felt deep within him. The heat formed from his ancestors, the heat that changed him fully as he progressed his bloodline. That everlasting flame, the connection to something where everything was made of fire before being bound into his form. It was that connection he pulled on before taking as much of a run up as he could, getting on Rognar's shoulders.

Rognar for his part, reached to his ancestors. The stubbornness that all dwarves knew as their right. A strength that went beyond simple men, a sturdiness that told that the world would fall before he did. It helped, when his friend decided to go insane pyromaniac.

David, for his part, got to see why George needed his hand. They glowed as they made increasingly complicated signs. Each sigil shot into the rat pack creating different results. Some burst as if a bomb went off, others set some on fire, causing the creature to panic setting more of their brethren alight. One created a line in the ground, making a smaller wall but another wall of ever burning flames.

All David could think was he was glad that George did not have access to his hands during their last encounter.

As quickly as they arrived, the horde left. When the number of rats decreased to the point where they were simply knee deep than head deep, Mist's wall dropped. While they expected to die by a million bites, instead the monsters continued to flee. They around, over, and through the group as they didn't pay attention to anything. At a yell from Bill, David collected him up, After all, Bill stood nearly the same size of the rats. They remained there, standing as still as possible as they were ignored.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The rats disappeared with the same intensity they arrived. The constant scratching, squeaks, and chirps were replaced with silence. Even the wind seemed to stop, the world holding its breath. All eyes turned towards a small figure covered in red. They could not see its face, but every other part of its body was wrapped in some form of a red cloth culminating in a red cloak. The area soon smelled of blood and rot.

“What do we have here?” It asked. Its voice was made of the noise of a multitude of insects. Its movements were unnatural. When it lifted its arm, the acted in a jerky, inconsistent manner. But as its hand's movements were smooth and impossible. David observed as its hand folded back on itself to make a beckoning motion.

“Come, come. I apologize if my children disturbed you.” The party took a step back as the intruder flowed towards them. Still, in that one step, it covered the distance to get in Bells' personal space.

“You...you are damaged.” It said. Its head tilted like its arm, with portions of it jerking and sliding instead of a smooth movement. With a motion too fast for the eye to track, it grabbed Bells' face and slowly tilted it. Even with it inches away, Bells could not tell what lied within.

“You...you are missing the touch. You have what was, but the proper touch still eludes you.” It seemed to search through the group. “Three of you as missing the proper touch.” Gesturing towards Bells, George, and Rognar. Its focus moved between the group until it found something else interesting “A child still lives!” It seemed gleeful as it appeared next to Mist. “Tell me, what of our people. Are they still strong?”

Mist could not stop the shaking as it 'looked' at her. She felt its abhorrent penetration of all that she was as it moved with more control than it showed before.

“You...you are also wrong.” It whispered with what sounded like sadness. “You are missing the proper touch, and that what was also hasn't been looked upon. Instead...instead you have...” It paused before recoiling from it. “YOU ARE INFECTED?” It voice became nearly incoherent from the buzzes and chirps. All collapsed, clapping their hands over their ears at is maddening noise. The sound left as quickly as it rose, leaving all to see it cradling Mist like a child, only she wasn't being held properly. She sank into its arms and chest as it rocked her side to side.

“I see child, I see. It was how you could survive. The land blessed you...and cursed you. You will never become greater, but you will never be touched by the madness.”

“What did Morty do?” David demanded as he rose. “What did it do?”

The being paused at that before looking around. The world stretched before rippling. As reality seemed to fall back to its natural order, the creature stood before David, Mist at its side with her hand gripped in its.

“You...you should not be.” Its other hand attempted to touch David but seemed repealed. Instead it smooshed against an invisible barrier. That didn't inhibit the creature as it pushed more, soon its entire arm was flat and wriggling against whatever protected him.

“You are of the land. You are of the between. You are interesting.” The world seemed to condense as the creature did something. David thought he heard yelling before he heard something shatter. Before he could even flinch, the monster's hand was touching him.

“You have been touched.” Glee seemed to enter the weird voice. “YOU ARE TOUCHED! BY OUR LORD, YOU HAVE BEEN TOUCHED!” It cackled for a bit before focusing once more. It leaned in closer, close enough to kiss if David was so inclined, but even now he could not make out the creature that lied beneath the red clothes. “Where is she? Where is the 'One Made of All'? Where is the 'Swarm Without End'?”

“I do not know what you are talking about.” David answered, trying to lean away. He pushed against an invisible force that seemed to hold him tight, keeping him near this mad man.

“How can you not know? You bear her mark.”

“Bill, what is this about a mark?” David asked.

“I think its your class.” Bill replied.

“But Alchie doesn't look like this guy.” The words felt wrong in David's mouth. It came out as 'Alchie' but his mouth moved before and continued after the words were spoken. The hooded thing froze at the name, taking a step back before bowing.

“That is the name of the Ever Swarm. Tell me, what it desires now that we have returned.”

David took a step back, trying to get a hold of himself. This, this was pushing too far. Death, rebirth, racism he could handle but a rat swarm of none rats mixed with being accosted by nothing in a red cloak. That was too much.

“I just need to open a tomb.” David said. He slowly let himself down shaking. “I knew it was going to be hard, but I figured I would be given five whole seconds to try to figure things out.” He muttered into his knees.

“A tomb?”

“In her favorite's favorite.” David nodded along, not really paying any attention to reality. “I mean if its a tomb its gotta be large so I am thinking a place to play or a city or something.”

The creature nodded along with it before taking a step back. “We shall help.”

“Sure, do what you want.” David idly waved at the monster. “Can't be worse than the help everyone by Bill has given. I mean, you already attacked so that matches pretty much everyone here.”

The people stood still as the monster seemed to freeze. Nothing about it moved before its head rotated around and looked at the group. David, for his part, was focused entirely on the world between his knees.

“I think they're trying to help me now.” He mumbled. It halted the robed figure before it could move again.

“Of course we're trying to help you now.” George said. “I mean, we just wanted to take you some place to rest. And you said you could heal some of our wounded.”

“You would waste the Great Many's gift on these creatures?” It demanded.

“I gotta learn how to use it, might as well do it while being helpful.” David replied.

“We will find this tomb.” It declared.

“No worries. If you want to help, you can help. Otherwise you do you. Big old world. Gotta be something a void in a robe wants to do.” David seemed to sink farther into himself with every word. “I want to understand what happened to me.”

Bill hopped off Princess, moving towards his friend. His small hand provided whatever comfort it could. No one saw the creature leave. All were focused on the man trying to understand his new reality and his place in it.