DAY 18

I had woken up early to start the hearth, I wanted to try to be able to finish this project after Jordan woke up but before he finished in the barn. Four iron ingots were in the hearth, on the slow process of turning into steel. Two fizzled and turned into slag instead, but the other two survived. Identifying when the change happened was tricky, it was mostly a vague feeling.

Carefully I tonged them onto the anvil and started hammering, and in short order I had two knife blades cooling down. I wasn’t actually sure how Jordan would react to me using more of his resources, but I was hoping the results would pay off. The bone grips slid onto the blades as easy as I could have hoped. I now had one mediocre knife and one I was actually proud of.

I left them on the bench and took a break. The sun had risen some time ago, and this was the first time I could think of that he hadn't stuck to his schedule. Poking my head out the door I could see the cabin shutters were open, and he was sitting at the table with his back to the window.

I decided to get started on the orders for the day, twenty hinges and cabinet latches. I had never made a latch before, so I gave it a try just to see if I could figure it out. The ingot shimmered for a second and then stayed the way it was. They must require some step I didn’t know, so I used it to start making the hinges, which was a section of rod, with an ingot split in half then hammered flat and bent around it.

I had all the hinges finished by the time Jordan came in. It was the first I’d seen of him since yesterday afternoon. He looked haggard, as though he had been awake all night.

“What do you think?” I pointed to the knives on the bench.

“Good job.” He barely even glanced at them.

“I finished all the hinges.”

“Good.”

“Are you okay?” I put down the tongs and turned to look directly at him.

“I’m fine.”

“Was it the guys yesterday? Did they say something?”

“No!” A moment of rage flashed across his face.

“Is it about your family?”

“You don’t know anything about it. Just go back to your goblin cave.” He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

I stared after him for a moment, stunned. I hadn’t been expecting that. For the first time in quite a while red static was creeping into my vision as the back of my eyes flared into a sudden, massive, headache. My chest was tight, I couldn't breathe. The memory surged into me hard enough I fell to my knees.

I sat limply as someone wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. Flashes of red and blue lit up the night, but all I could see was the wreckage of the car with the entire front end crushed under a trailer. My heart pounded so hard my vision distorted, a roaring in my ears so loud I couldn't hear what they were saying anymore. I crumpled to the ground, the impact making me realize I had been holding my breath. Someone touched my shoulder and I shoved them away. Their words rumbled and warbled, just meaningless sounds. More hands pulled me up and towards the ambulance. I was alone.

The memory broke, leaving me gasping, holding my head. I was alone again. My heart pounded with frantic energy, faster than my breath could keep up with. Sagging against the workbench I heaved for breath. Bile and acid stung my throat as I struggled against the sudden hopeless anger.

Each thunderous pulse compelled me to move, to run. Fighting the urge, I looked down, pulling up my shirt to look at the scars underneath. I couldn't detect any signs of the parasitic worms. Could I even trust myself?

I started to walk to the cabin, only making it a few steps before I turned around. Back in the forge I paced in a circle. From the door back to the workbench, over and over.

"I should talk to him." I got to the door and stopped, turning back.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"I would just make it worse." I grabbed my things, leaving the better quality knife on the bench and taking the other one with me.

I ran, glancing back to check if Jordan would come out and tell me to stop. He hadn’t by the time I got to the tree line. Going straight back to the goblin camp wasn’t really what I wanted to do, so I took my time. As I walked I slashed at branches with my new knife, trying to think of some way to fix this situation. Was I wrong to leave?

Instead of going to the cave I stopped in the clearing near the river crossing and decided to stay the night here. With not much of a plan at all I walked a few laps. Dropping my pack and other stuff and grabbed the axe and saw. Picking a likely tree, I set to work chopping it down. Processing it into boards with the saw was quick work. After I had cut down five trees I stopped for a break. My pack was still mostly full of deer meat, which turned out to be not as gross as it sounded. Things were a lot less messy than I was used to. The wind blew through the trees as I sat on the wood pile and ate a big chunk of meat.

A few hours, and several more trees, later I had started to construct a small cabin. Rather than crafting it the fast way, which I still couldn't make work, I was cutting a notch and a flat in each log and doing it manually. The process was still quite fast, only taking a few actions to shape the logs the way I wanted. It took longer to carry each into position than it did to cut them.

What likely should have been a few days labour was done in a few hours. It was nearly midnight by the time I finished the last part, a door which didn't even have a latch on it. I curled up on the floorboards and thought about my options. There was something that felt wrong, and I couldn't figure out what it was. That just made me feel worse about the issue, now that I had run out of things to distract myself with.

DAY 19

I woke up in the early afternoon and spent a while laying there, wallowing in how purposeless I now felt.

“Log out.” Nothing happened, so I slowly stood up and gathered my things. I still didn't want to go back to the goblins, so I decided to see if I could start a garden. After having gotten used to being able to grow food right outside the idea of wandering the forest looking for rabbits and berries every day seemed like too much effort.

Gardening had never been a part of my life before, beyond a science class experiment of sprouting a bean in a cup. However it seemed pretty straightforwards. Jordan hadn't exactly put any real effort into his garden, and it did just fine even though he had been taking from it every day. Though, if it was so easy did that mean everyone got most of their own food from their own gardens? Was there any sort of a grocery market here? None of my tools were particularly suited for what I had in mind, so I quickly assembled a wooden spade. I wasn't sure how this gardening stuff worked, so I was just going to dig up an entire plant and bring the whole thing with me. It worked for trees, so it should work for a berry bush, right? The thought of leaving my stuff here crossed my mind, but this door didn't even lock, so I decided to put up with the inconvenience of carrying it all.

I hefted the spade up onto my shoulder on top of my pack and started walking. Plenty of birds fluttered through the canopy of trees. Squirrels chittered at me and made frantic dashes up the trunks when they noticed me. Several rabbits were clearly visible among the undergrowth.

Slowing down a little, I looked around suspiciously. There was a lot more animal activity than the past times I had been through this area. Was it purely coincidence, or did all the animals just reappear at dawn? In the distance a pair of deer poked their heads up and then jumped off behind some trees. I shook my head. Last time it had taken an entire day of searching to find a deer, and here was a pair of them and I wasn't even looking.

Shortly after that I found a berry bush. I wasn't sure exactly which species this was. None of the common berries I had grown up with. They were small and blackish-purple, a little sour but not too bad. Best of all they grew on a fairly compact bush rather than a sprawling one. Leaving a fair amount of space around the base, I started digging.

Waddling back to my cabin with it was an uncomfortable and slow process. Even though the bush was small the large clump of roots and dirt I had left was quite heavy, and kept hitting me in the knees as I walked. Eventually I made it back, and plopped the plant into a shallow hole. I wasn't really sure what would happen, but as far as I could tell nothing immediately did. There was no subtle sensation like when I crafted something. Looks like I would have to wait and see if it was still alive in a few days. I thought back to my old bean in a cup experiment in school so long ago. The memory of having done it was there, but the rest slipped my mind. Which teacher had that been? Which year had that been? I lay on the ground with my head on my pack and feet up on a section of log.

Clouds drifted slowly across the sky. I completely could not remember the names of any of my old teachers. Their faces were indistinct and vague, even though I knew I had years worth of classes with them. It had probably been years since I'd actually thought about them. Maybe it would come back later.

A sudden burst of tension had me scrambling to my feet as my every instinct screamed in terror. Swinging my spade wildly I spun around and searched frantically. Nothing was here. No new smells, no sounds, no sign of danger. The sensation was similar to when the monster in the forest had been nearby. It wasn't exactly the same, but I couldn't understand the difference, it felt like the expectation of loss as the future withered.

Something bad had happened. I didn't know how I knew, but I could feel it in my bones. Dropping the spade I grabbed my pack and bow. With an arrow ready on the string I hurried back into the trees. The feeling was pulling at me, I had to get back to Jordan.

Without consciously meaning to, I approached the cabin from down wind. Crouching in the bushes I scanned the clearing. Several men were standing out front, I didn't recognize any of them. Several new scents were drifting down on the breeze. The sour smell of animal fat and sweat, the smell of dogs, the sharp scent of fear. Many men had come, and apparently already left again. These three seemed to be the last. Jordan's scent was old already, they had taken him.

One of them was writing in a notebook while they walked around the property inspecting various things. They all wore long knives and cudgels on their belts. One had a bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, much better quality than mine.

I really wanted to get close enough to send an arrow, but I held back. They were almost guaranteed to be better fighters than I and they had me outnumbered. After an hour or two they finished up and started walking towards the road that lead back to town, where they had a horse-drawn carriage waiting.

I suppressed a growl. Whoever they were, they had horses, so they likely weren't locals. Better clothes, better weapons, better transportation. They had me outclassed.

When they were a comfortable distance away I rushed up to the cabin. It had been ransacked. Things were strewn around but not much seemed to be missing. From the smell and the mess Jordan had fought with several men here, and then seemed to have been dragged away. A few drops of blood had dried, maybe a bloody nose, not enough to indicate a stab. The smell of dogs was all over the place. Anxiety burned in my stomach as I hurried towards the road.

The sun was starting to set as I got to the road. The carriage was disappearing into the distance already. As I walked I dug the last of the meat out of my pack and ate it all, I would need the energy. The hunt was on.