In the great Marewoods east of Coalben it was said monsters lurked just beyond the common hunting grounds in nests as large as towns. Tales were whispered about the beasts within; tall tales told by parents to misbehaving children, who went on to whisper softly to one another in tales of make believe about one monster or another. But the loggers and huntsmen who frequented the woods spoke in hushed tones and were ready to drop the subject as quickly as it arrived, always attempting to hide the fear they felt, and failing.

If there was any truth to the tales he did not see it.

Dark and foreboding, the woods presented a challenge by way of tangled roots and felled trees that lay decaying, blocking any attempt at a straight path, as well as slippery rocks underfoot, hidden by layers of green moss and threatening to send the careless tumbling to the ground.

His nostrils stung as he breathed in the crisp forest air. It smelled of pine and dirt and wood, and brought forth feelings of longing for a time since long forgotten. From before he came to this world. Maybe. He wasn’t certain.

There was another sense of longing he felt as he traveled alone. Companionship. He had spent too much time alone this past week, and he was beginning to become restless. He thought of Amice, standing in her armor and feathered helmet. And Airabella, too, his elusive peryton friend.

He channeled the well of mystic power within him and released it, the effects silent and invisible and more effective than he had ever hoped for.

Detection magic. It had taken hours to create the skill and hours more to hone it to the level he required it.

Skill Up

The Detection Magic Skill has advanced to Rank C.

Reward: 50xp.

Casting the magic once more, Alden stopped in his tracks as a font of sensory information reached his mind. With great focus the information was sorted into workable pieces, slowly forming a map of the woods around him in greater detail than his eyes or ears could ever grant him.

He had cast the magic more times than he cared to count, yet the end of day drew near and there was little trace of the men he searched for. His men, he reminded himself. Men whose duty it was to serve and aid him in routing the Hilvan saboteurs. The pain of the failed task would take days to leave him, he knew, and the pain of having lost more than half the men assigned to him would take weeks or months more.

Eventually he found them camped in a clearing beneath the ridge of a series of giant boulders. One such boulder stuck outward such that it formed a roof overhead. A lucky find. In their haste they had left all of their equipment, including their tents and horses, to say nothing of food or weapons.

One look said they were in need of it. Covered in blood and dirt, the survivors wore tattered clothes and broken chainmail, and their shields and helmets sat at their sides, dented and scarred by battle and some beyond use entirely. The worst of it, however, was the expressions they wore. Utter defeat was etched upon them all, the feeling becoming a shroud of pity that hung over the entire camp, broken only at the sight of their newly arrived leader.

“Sir Alden!”

The camp turned to him as he strolled in. He felt naked without his armor, despite the clothing he wore.

Uhtric was the first to approach, sporting a faint smile. A sad smile, one that hurt more than it helped.

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“You’re alive,” Uhtric said.

“As are you.”

“Talk after,” said Gosfrid, standing tall and pale and angry. He looked away, and when he looked back the anger had slipped away and in its place was remorse. As if he found the anger foolish, misplaced. “People need healing. We can talk after.”

In the far corner of the camp, nearest to the giant boulders, lay six men. He recognized half of them, including Caldwell, who shivered hopelessly despite the day’s lingering warmth.

Beside them was Aerin, whose hands were aglow with the light of magic as she attended to them. As he approached Alden could feel the buzz of magic against his skin and, with it, a fragment of something like pride or hope.

But whatever power she had gained from leveling up was not enough. Splitting her magic between all the injured men had drained her, and she had never been much of a healer besides. It took only a cursory glance to know they wouldn’t make it without his intervention.

“I can take it from here,” he said, and Aerin slumped over in what must have been relief.

Inspecting the bodies proved difficult. Undoing their bindings, Alden ruffled his nose as it was met with the horrid smell of rot. The sight of their wounds was no better. The wounds themselves leaked vile yellow pus, and the surrounding flesh had darkened as infection spread. Two had lost limbs, one a leg, the other an arm, and a third had perished recently, minutes before Alden’s arrival.

Swallowing hard, he ordered the body set aside as he attended the living.

Horrible as the wounds, he was more than twice the healer he was before. He removed the infections first, returning the flesh to a healthy hue, then set about closing the wounds. The limbs he could restore, in time, but molding the flesh of others was more draining than molding his own.

He could do nothing for their clothes, which had been torn to shreds by steel blades and arrows and singed by fire. They would need to find replacements.

“Thank you, sir,” Caldwell said, sitting up. The boy’s shivering had ceased, yet he was lost in his thoughts, his eyes refusing to focus on anything. “I failed,” he finally said.

“It’s fine.”

“It isn’t. If I’d been stronger…”

Alden smacked him on the back. “I could say much the same. If I’d been stronger I wouldn’t have been taken prisoner. I should have been there for you all.”

His words did little to ease Caldwell. “We cannot rely on you forever,” the boy said. “There is no telling how long this war will last, but once it is over we shall go our separate ways. And if the rumors are true this will not be the last war in our lifetime.”

“Rumors?”

“Don’t mind him,” Uhtric interjected, gnawing at a strip of brown dried meat. He pulled another piece from the strip and chewed it, eyeing it suspiciously, as if uncertain as to what kind of meat it was. “There’s a continent to the west. Small one. Some think the Emperor will try to subjugate it, being that there hasn’t been an addition to the Empire since his father ruled.”

West. West was the heart of the Empire, where its great capital sat beside its greatest river, where once boats from every corner of the world made their way to trade with the most powerful nation known. That had been before his arrival in this world, some years ago. Now the river sat glorious but empty, the capital and all its lands cut off from the rest of the world, the Emperor nowhere to be seen.

Though the spark of interest lingered within him, it was the south that drew his attention. South, to the southern mountains. He would need to make the journey one day, if he were to unlock the knowledge on cultivation. Soon, he imagined. After the siege.

“That war can wait. For now we must head east, to Grensfield. We need to take the city.”

“On whose orders?” asked Uhtric.

“Mine,” Alden replied. “A merchant by the name of Alcuin aided me after my trial by combat. Says he’s been given information from some Hilvan oracle who can see the future, and that I’m to besiege Grensfield in a month’s time.”

“And you trust this merchant?” Caldwell asked.

“No, but we need to make up for our failures, somehow. Rather, I need to make up for mine. And I can take the city.”

There was unease in the camp at his words, an unspoken distrust. Greater warriors than he had achieved far less, and recent events had sapped them of their will to fight. Then there was the issue of their loyalty, which had fallen sharply on average. Some still held him in high regard, for which he was thankful. Uhtric, for one, as well as Caldwell and Gosfrid.

Smiling bright, he opened his arms to his men. “I will not ask anyone here to fight a siege on my behalf. I ask only that you follow and watch a knight at work.”

Most returned his smile, those he’d healed most of all.

“You have a plan, then?” Gosfrid asked.

“Oh yes. And if all goes according to my plan, none of you will need to even lift a finger.”