Chapter 46: Whisper on the Wind

I only stayed on the ground for a little bit: the stars, while impressive to look at, were not known for their being quick to change, so the novelty ran out before long. Even the pale blue flames that flitted around in the distance couldn’t keep my interest for long, so back to mundane affairs it was. Also, I didn’t want to fall asleep, lest Pumpkin decide to try a creative way to wake me up. Odd sleep schedules were nothing new to me, yet another legacy of corporate London, but it still took a bit of adjustment to settle into a biphasic sleep pattern, at least for the first couple of nights. It hadn’t come up until now, as this was the first night where we were running a proper watch: Harvey hadn’t explained why in words, but I could see the rationale easily enough. There simply hadn’t been the need for such a show of force, before now; I had no doubt there was at least one sentry awake at all times, because Harvey didn’t strike me as stupid, but nothing like the combat readiness we had now, Shaking my head, I felt the slightest hint of nausea, as sleep tugged at the corner of my vision, so I turned to two reliable solutions for dealing with such circumstances: movement and sugar.

[Orange withdrawn.]

Not too much sugar, for I knew that consumption in excess inevitably led to a spike followed by a crash, but enough to keep some basic awareness about me. Fruit was a good choice for this, I thought, as I leveraged my superior strength in this second life to pull the orange in half with my bare hands. One half, I kept for myself, in keeping with my thoughts of moderation. Pumpkin was facing away from me, pawing at the grass, so I tossed the other half at his head, drawing a startled yelp as it bounced off the back of his skull, before the gluttonous cat stalked after the sweet and sour projectile for his own late night snack. I’d pay for that later, I knew, but it was too tempting a target to resist, so just this once, I let the intrusive thoughts win. Pumpkin wouldn’t be too mad, I knew, since he still got a meal out of my little prank.

My blood sugar was now dealt with, so I moved on to the next stage of my grand plan for keeping awake for four hours: walking. Nothing too vigorous, just a slow, counter clockwise circle around the hill, keeping just within the perimeter established by the three Archers on shift. They turned as I approached, and nodded to me briefly before continuing on their vigil, which fit what I’d seen of their personalities thus far. Serious and taciturn men, all of them, with whom I’d barely exchanged a handful of words of the past few days. I’d suspected them of being automatons of some sort, until the exchange with the moles proved emphatically that they bled red, but the possibility of them being some form of contracted servant still remained. Few humans remained that quiet by choice, and whilst I could have believed our convoy had a handful of such introverts, twelve of them together somewhat beggared belief. Still, there wasn’t anything to be gained in broaching my suspicions, so I left them where they were, and continued to circle the small hill we were camped on.

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There were more flames now, dancing in the distance, some high in the sky, whilst others barely floated above the bodies of the wolves who fell in the first volley of arrows. They were quite beautiful to behold, even the faint light they emitted proved soothing to my senses, and bade my eyelids to close. Pumpkin was by my side, also sagging as he leaned against my ankle for support, feeling the weight of the night pressed down upon him. It would be so easy to shirk on my watch, I thought to myself, just lie down and fall asleep; Harvey was nowhere to be seen, surely he wouldn’t mind?

I slapped myself hard across my face, leaving a stinging red imprint and a burning pain, the latter being enough to break the illusion that had been cast upon me. The flames were gone, now, and in their place were strange, ethereal beings that might have looked human, were I sixty again and devoid of my glasses.

[Wispen - Level 1]

Dressed in rags and white as chalk, faintly translucent as they flew towards us, they were a sight fit for a B-rated horror film.

[Water withdrawn.]

Pumpkin wouldn’t appreciate a slap, as it might trigger a retaliation I couldn’t afford at the moment, so instead I turned to a feline’s hated nemesis: water. Ten ounces, enough to fill a big cup, poured down on him, drawing a very unhappy hiss, before his tail rose and he properly beheld what was coming.

[30 XP gained for resisting an esoteric Charm.]

Well, that explained why I was feeling so tired despite sleeping through the first watch, and why Pumpkin, being of a species known for their nightly adventures, had been similarly afflicted. A useful bonus, assuming I survived the situation.

“To arms!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, raising the hue and cry.

Pumpkin added to my efforts, producing the loudest screech I’d ever heard, on par with a jet engine or a particularly disgruntled customer at the local coffee shop. It wasn’t quite as visceral as physical interaction, but fortunately, our sheer volume was enough to startle the rest of the sentries out of their hypnosis. That was good, I reflected, as arrows flew out to disperse the approaching apparitions, because I still didn’t have a ranged weapon, something that was looking more pressing with every engagement. The one saving grace of the whole situation was that the Wispen weren’t invulnerable to physical damage; despite their ghostly appearance, arrows could and did harm them, outright killing with a single hit in most instances. They had numbers on their side, however, enough that some still made it to the convoy proper, so I did the only thing I could, and prepared to receive them.

[Knife withdrawn.]