Theo puked. He closed his eyes quickly, but not quickly enough to avoid seeing gooey, pink slime drip down from their skulls as they convulsed uncontrollably. It glistened in the sunlight, lumpy like pig intestines.
Even with his eyes closed, he could still hear them gasping and thrashing about, not to mention the squelching as their brains were turned into scrambled eggs.
After what felt like an eternity of using Meditation to centre himself and desperately trying to pretend he was somewhere else, he finally felt well enough to open his eyes and face what had just happened.
At which point the smell of blood and urine and viscera caught up to him, and he started to vomit again.
---
He washed his mouth out with some of the freshest and cleanest water he’d ever tasted, courtesy of some spring or lake hidden in the Woods.
He wafted some fresh air over with a whistle, relishing the smell of the earth and sky. But there was still a scent of blood.
“Theo?” He whipped his head around a bit too fast, feeling slightly woozy. Francis was pointing a finger at his side. Looking down, he saw his shirt was wet. He pressed a hand to its surface. It felt sticky.
Hang on.
Lifting the shirt, Theo saw a smear of red, and along crack of black in the middle, from which blood was slowly leaking out.
With a moment’s exertion, he willed Rest into action, and they watched as the wound closed and healed without a scar. Theo wiped off the blood and tried to summon water to clean himself off.
As he sang and danced, it came as rain, drenching him entirely instead.
Theo lay there, feeling hair and clothes cling to his body. It was cold.
He was turning numb. Everything tingled.
Something grabbed him by the armpits and dragged him out of the rain.
Someone.
“I don’t know what precisely you did to yourself, but getting soaked isn’t going to help.” Theo thought he recognised that voice, as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He compromised, slowly blinking with one eye and then the other.
He heard the other person sigh, before a shining light washed over him. “May he grow above this challenge.”
Fire washed through Theo’s challenge at those words. Feeling came prickling back into his body, pins and needles massaging his skin.
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His eyes slammed open, as he gasped and sat up. Ragged breaths forced themselves through his lungs as he stared at Francis, looking both exhausted and unimpressed.
“I don’t know how you lost so much of your blood in such a short period of time, but it definitely is something to avoid in future.”
“Blood loss is a known way to impair an opponent, regardless of the type of magic they practice. It makes focus difficult, is hard to specifically defend against, and is subtle enough that most don’t realise the problem until it is too late.” Eva walked up to them, eyes fixated on the corpses that the roots were now dragging into the earth.
“A clean stab wound, especially in the heat of battle, is often difficult to register until much later. And healing magic often requires intent to fix, and blood is rarely in the forefront of one’s mind. Not to mention weapons and magic focused on increasing bleeding –”
“Why did you kill them? They were surrendering!” Theo didn’t care for Eva’s explanation right now. There were bigger problems on his mind.
He puked, again. It might have been the adrenaline of everything that had just happened finally wearing off. It might have been the gradual removal of blood followed by its sudden return. It was definitely processing that he was partly responsible for and just watched the death of people right in front of him.
Eva cocked her head in his direction. The bodies that were halfway consumed by the ground were suddenly unearthed, and deposited in front of them.
Theo tried to not puke a third time, only succeeding as there was nothing left in his stomach to evacuate. Eva was unfazed. Francis looked a little green, but besides a slight wrinkle in his nose there was nothing that indicated to Theo that he was uncomfortable.
Eva pointed at the bodies. “Tools of God. One of Etol’s secret special forces, consisting of criminals who were executed and survived.” She dragged her thumb across her throat. “Hence the scar. They are granted a pardon for their crimes in exchange for a life of servitude, usually serving through the murder of ‘heretics’ or other apostates.”
She kicked the body of the archer, and her head lolled to the side, spilling more brains on the dirt. “This is the second group of Tools they’ve sent our way, and the second group we’re turning into nutrients.”
“But why?” Theo asked once more. Eva turned her attention back to him, visibly confused. “They surrendered, they weren’t a threat! We could have like, interrogated them, or used them as proof that Etol is invading us.”
Eva laughed. It took Theo a moment to realise that that was what the sound was, as he couldn’t remember her ever laughing before. It was a dry, whistling wheeze, like a breeze forced through a copse of trees at the exact right speed.
The archer’s corpse was propped up by roots like a macabre marionette. Eva wrenched her mouth open, and pointed it at Theo, who recoiled instinctively at the sight (and the smell). “Do you see the tongue, or lack thereof?” He nodded, mouth closed just in case his stomach had something left in reserve somewhere.
“Tools of God are considered an extension of their will, but not his voice. They have had their tongues cut out. As Tools, their only purpose is to carry out the desires of the Gods, and nothing else. Desires that just so happen to coincide with whatever is best for Etol, of course.” Eva waved her hand, and the body of the archer crumpled to the earth, before being buried in dirt.
There was no trace left of the Tools of God, except for freshly turned earth. “And as for proof of invasion, they are a secret force. To the general public, they are redeemed sinners that travel as pilgrims who took a vow of silence. Any mention of their existence would cause a massive diplomatic incident. Turning them into fertiliser is the best and safest option.” She smiled at Theo. It was anything but reassuring.
Theo stayed quiet, before rapidly retreating into the safety of The Woods.
He understood what she was saying. He didn’t have to like it.