I spoke of a gibberish command, *the dead shall serve*, because I couldn’t recall an appropriate quote that in translation would remain mystical enough. Practicing pronunciation that was largely superfluous, the real trigger would be striking the undead under the topsoil several times. More importantly, I went over the various rules they would follow.
Rudimentarily programmed, it seemed with the increase in levels and the associated stat increases, more orders could be stored. Their ability to understand increasingly complex orders did not improve by much, so it had to be resolved with a long list of choppy instructions. I was getting better at ordering them in large batches—that didn’t help much for those that would remain within the creature control radius, but never say no to more power.
That all was neither here nor there though.
Returning to the village they clamped down; I hadn’t sworn them to secrecy, but it was a wise move. Rumors of a dark ritual in the forest floating around would stir up trouble if the wrong ears caught wind of it. Instead, we started spending the afternoon processing timber and splitting firewood.
This wasn’t exactly unusual for me to do, but a few of the younger children gathered around as usual. Rion’s personality development didn’t greatly affect his friendships with the others; however in acting more responsible, the more lighthearted Ronnie and Terin began to overtake his position as leaders over the children. Both would lead the troop, or perhaps troupe, to hover around me on occasion.
Casting a few
It limited what magics could be practiced, but being the cool older brother, or maybe young bachelor uncle, I burned plenty of mana and stamina to keep them entertained. Work hard, play hard—time spent with the ragamoffins included plenty of both. Today wasn't any different for them either.
“Hey c’mon Alric! Take us east!”
“East! East!” Terin spoke up and the rest chanted. Not only those staying by him, but those distracted by the dazzling lights joined in as well. There were a few who did not, but they were by no means against the idea.
“Hey Twig, no point working your days away right? Spend some time with them, leave working to us.” Ross spoke up, setting his broad axe aside to catch a breather. “Really, we got this. It's good to make some memories they can treasure.”
“Ah, hey, don't go straining yourselves. This twig carried a surprising amount of weight for you two.” Setting my own axe down, I turned to the crowd of children. Making sure all the wood ended up chopped and processed was important, but they couldn't fall behind what they would normally do on their own. Keeping the rambunctious rascals roving, exploring too far outside the bounds of the village wasn't something the adults had time to indulge. “Alright then, shall we begin our Eastern Exploratory Expedition?”
“Right! Bring up the rear Alric! Kress, you and Lyr be our lookouts! Let’s go!” Shouting out, Terin quickly became a commanding little general and led everyone east across the stream. I kept my eyes peeled for any serpent eels, and other various nasties that might be creeping about, but all went well.
Terin led the band to adventure, climbing over mountains(small knolls), and tracking monsters(horses, it would seem). When they found treasure(a clutch of colored stones), mutiny broke out, led by Ronnie. Unsheathing their weapons(sticks), a battle for the ages broke out.
Locked into the deadly melee, I partook in the fight as well. Shifting partners as the winds changed, making sure none were suppressed too heavily and helping parry especially hard hits. At the same time I made sure to keep them shepherded into a range in which a multitude of senses were active. Considering the amount of running around and how many I needed to keep track of on top of preventing injuries, it was a far more engaging and thrilling than actual battle. Flynning is designed to be pleasing unlike ruthless efficiency after all.
High, high, low, high—steady streams of sticks striking sounded; unceasing serious(ly) short soldiers. Strike, counter-strike, counter—children clashing chaotically creating a cheerful cacophony.
Moderately poetic is exactly how it felt; one final round of something not of integral importance, but neither was it an experience to be given up. I am not one who feels pangs of regret, but when waxing nostalgic, those times when I could run about without any worries at all surface frequently.
Well, making sure we kept within a kilometer of the forest’s edge was a bit trying, but that was simple enough a task to disregard.
A few hours from dusk, I began rallying my own faction of children with good endurance to fight for the colorful stones. Under my orders and occasional help, those who didn’t mind being on my side beat back the opposition. Ronnie stood fast, and eventually he and Terin rejoined forces.
Switching between fleeing and short skirmishes, my forces pushed them back towards the village. In intermittent battles, they gradually slowed, however their stamina was still impressive given how small they were. Not all could run and fight for hours on end; a few had trouble keeping up, panting and unevenly running to weakly rejoin their friends. To keep them from falling behind I would give them short rides to the battle lines where they could fight from my back before being set down again.
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Moving them back as a secondary objective, the fighting went on for a long while, and eventually all of the little ones were on their last breaths. Then Terin, more sharp-eyed than his companions shouted out, holding the treasure in the air for all to witness.
“I see the fortress! If we can just cross the river, we’ll be safe!”
“You fool! Those are the heirlooms of the wild folk! You shall never make it into the civilized lands. Charge!” I returned another short speech and the children all got their second wind for the final clash. Raising and shaking their weapons, everyone ran a short sprint to the river.
Not all are created equal, and despite being reinvigorated, despite his proclivity for wrestling, Terin quickly lost ground to the forces of wild folk running up his tail. A few of the civilized realized that they would be ‘defeated’ if they lost the stones and withdrew to help cover him. With the barbarian horde approaching, and his slowing pace, he couldn’t hold out.
Swords cracked as kids ran off the numbing feel of adrenaline, and busy dampening blows with
“Take it backstabber...and save the city…” Gasping for breath, Terin turned to the traitorous Ronnie. Tossing the stones, they both fumbled, but with a little ‘influence’, he made the catch.
“This is my victory, but you will not be forgotten! Onward, to the ford!” With much more energy than many others, Ronnie laughed and began running for the stream. The mob ran forward, and I hesitated a moment to kneel down and check on the fallen Terin. Gasping for his final breaths, there was nothing I could do for the worthy foe(he was just winded), and I sprinted to catch up.
The ford was considerably wider than the rest of the stream, artificially stretched to reduce the depth of the water, and the ground used as fill. After repeated erosion and widening, the flow over had been continuously reduced over the years, one only needed to watch for the occasional thin channel that formed.
With the rainfall, it ceased to be shallow and slow flowing. While still easily passable, some murk remained, and the levels of water rose several inches. Not troublesome at all for an energetic youth, being unsteady after an intense day meant the fight across the ford would pose more trouble than one might expect.
Taking heavy steps through the water, Ronnie and his forces hesitantly fumbled backwards, as the wild ones stumbled forward with their attacks, trying to close in on the stones. Striding through the waters, I aided the wild folk in standing and moving within the river. With this, Ronnie and his men found themselves surrounded on all sides. Those who fell in battle hoarsely cheered from the banks for the victory of their comrades.
Brisk water splashed as the surface was struck wide swings, as the soldiers representing civilization were pushed together. Seeing his defeat was inevitable, Ronnie shouted, giving both sides pause to listen to his words.
“You may have bested us this time, savages! However, you will not get the power of the stones!” Raising his hand, he threw the colorful rocks. Those that happened to be nearby lunged for them, but ended up sputtering, lying mostly underwater as the treasure vanished with a splash.
The wild folk cursed with limited swears. Ronnie laughed, and I couldn’t help but join in. Better die than be killed, he ended the game in quite a grand fashion. Despite the fact that neither side ‘won’, it was just a bit of fun. Since the neither ended up visibly worse off than the other, cheer quickly spread to the rest of the participants.
Tired and sopping wet, I made sure the stream was crossed safely and then got to drying everyone off. Some time still remained before it got dark and their parents would want them close to the village, but considering how weary the lot was, they called it in early.
Splitting into smaller groups, the kids went their separate ways. Casting a few magic spells to satisfy those around me, they began to disperse. Ronnie stuck around a bit, before a glow appeared from his pocket. Quickly covering it, he smiled bashfully before scampering off.
A tricksy little ruffian—he admirably slipped one of the many stones into his pocket before throwing the rest away. If Rion ended up leaving the village for some reason, I would say Rion had the best chance of becoming the next chief. Hopefully it wouldn’t be that long before we actually returned.
Speaking of Rion, he stayed behind to spend time with his sister and help out around the village. He was still a few years short of when most began the switch to a productive member of society, but since he wasn’t always consumed by the need to work things would be alright. Rion still had Pan’s guidance as well, so his future shone all the brighter.
Which was a good thing, as despite her intent to leave on the morrow, Tagalong Girl remained by his side. Being young, his reliance on her hadn’t developed overly much, but luckily Rion wouldn’t be so fragile as to collapse from her departure. I was quite curious as to if she had taken this into account or not, considering her original plan had been to manipulate him into taking her away from the village out of some bond between them.
Well, whether she took it into account or not, from my perspective Rion would be fine. Tagalong Girl weakened the link in recent times as well, considering she left his side more and more often.
Wherever Rion was, Tagalong Girl managed to separate herself from him again to meet up with me that evening. In the early evening, people were still out and about, but it didn’t take much for her to slip away to the forest.
“Not that I think you will, but this is your last chance to bail.” After taking just a few steps within the borders of the forest, I spoke up. Given how Ross and Troy seemed to be able to sense to presence of the undead in at least some capacity, I went the safer route and wanted to keep her from wandering into an area heavily tainted by the presence of my minions.
“I have not changed my mind, I’ve been preparing for this long enough.”
“No alterations to how you’re doing this? You really want to leave without a word to anyone?”
“Yes.” Tagalong Girl answered curtly, and I couldn’t help but grab the front of my head and run my hand through my hair. Though we didn’t talk too often, I still got along with Rissa and Harold. There was no way they would not be unsettled by her disappearance, but Tagalong Girl stated her wishes clearly. I would make alterations if I thought it would end better, however Tagalong Girl was not suppressing a desire to say goodbye.
“No final goodbyes?”
“No.” Monotone with only a hint of annoyance at the repetition, I hung my head. She had less attachment to the village than I did. It didn’t worry me, people grew over time. Well, even if she didn’t, things would be fine. Tagalong Girl became frustrated and cheerful at times, it just took more to get her emotions going. It would be excessive to worry over a mere slightly icy personality.
“Haaa~” Letting out a deep sigh, there was nothing for it. “In that case, we won’t alter the plan. You do remember how we’ll go about this?”
“Yes.”
“Just go over it aloud, okay? I don’t know what you’re thinking, you need to say it.”
“We plan to leave at noon. I will watch for Tylia, Ross, Troy, others who happen to be outside, and children. I am to bring any clothing that fits me, regardless of weight. Then after making my way here, their positions will be relayed and we will head east.”
Despite her lack of care towards the village, Tagalong Girl recited the plan so plainly it lacked the robotic monotone. Instead it sounded measured—hopefully she wouldn’t feel like she was walking on eggshells after we left. I wasn’t going to leave her behind if she couldn’t remember the plan. Well, at least she had more faith in me than Ria.
“Yeah, that’s right. We’ll only do a few short lessons today so you can rest up for tomorrow. Your training won’t stop when we hit the road, but take it easy the first few days.”
“If you say so, I will do as you say.”
That evening I worked on her surprisingly undeveloped cooking ability. My ability to rotisserie a chikan was not great, but it was the plucking and preparation of the rest of the creature that was the real difficulty. The two of us enjoyed a warm meal, before I sent her back to the village after showing her what I could.
I too decided to tuck in early, my last night in the village. Staring up at the ceiling I thought back to all those good times. A pity it all had to end so soon, but it would be to Ria’s benefit, and likely my own.
The weeks of village life came to a close as I shut my eyes. Tomorrow would be the last day of this simple life.