Three days after Nyota’s awakening.

Liam lay flat on his back, sprawled out in the middle of Petra’s town square. I’m too old for this, he thought, exhaustion weighing him down while age clawed at his body with a dozen skeletal hands. A score of militia surrounded him, leaning on their bloody spears, ichor and blood covered their once neat uniforms, staining their makeshift shields an earthy brown.

“I thought we were done for. Thank you M’lord!” Said Corporal Eldred, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Didn’t, ah, expect, a scorpion - the size of a bull!” Gasped Liam.

“A scorpion. Is that what you call this thing? Have you seen these before m’lord?” Questioned Eldred.

How can I explain that I used to keep one in a jar…? After I found it in grandma’s backyard… I’m just gonna keep my mouth shut on this one, sorry Eldred.

The fight with the scorpion had been unpleasant in the extreme. Under the cover of night it had tunneled into the village, digging a sinkhole in the village square. Sharp eyed sentries had noticed a disturbance, summoning the militia before the creature could complete its ambush. A rare victory without the loss of life.

Six thunderbolts later and the monstrous scorpion lay dead, draining Liam of his lightning. With how the corpse steamed he suspected that his lightning failed to penetrate its hide, instead the energy had heated its carapace, boiling the creature alive, and cooking the organs.

Six thunderbolts was nearing his limit, since he spent every spare drop of mana healing Nyota each night. Liam’s powers had changed after Quetzalcoatl’s revelation, not to mention the week of bedrest atrophied his elderly muscles.

“I feel like a couch potato that is halfway through being mashed. Oh, ah, yes. Scorpions come from a distant land and are normally smaller than your hand. Like a spider you might find in the garden.” Said Liam.

“Holy- the gods must have… substantial hands.” Said Eldred, flexing his own as he spoke.

Chuckles came from his comrades, bringing a grin to Liam’s face as well. Strong arms helped Liam to his feet, respectfully dusting off his clothes.

“Thank you, I am drained. I’ll be recovering next to Nyota if you need me.”

“Lord, how is our mistress doing?” Said a man standing on top of the scorpion’s back, trying to free a spear that had been haphazardly trapped between chitinous plates.

“Careful John! That tail is a stinger, don’t stand in front of it.” Said Liam, making a point to use the man’s name.

This militia fought and died in his name, earning his respect; remembering their names became a miniscule token of his appreciation. John evacuated from the arachnid’s back, face reddening as he came to know the width of his blunder. A fortunate motion, since the stinging tail snapped forward a moment later when Eldred finished hacking through a rear leg. Liam gulped, the Petrans had strong notions about wasting food. No matter what the animal was, it went in the pot, scorpions, medusa, even mermaids, they were all eaten. Though it was some redeeming grace that the Petrans wouldn’t eat humanoid bits.

“Nyota can hear and touch, with our healing and a lot of time I think she will make a full recovery, hopefully before next spring. But, we need to get to Sintra soon, I fear for Avignon’s survivors. We promised them Rhendal’s aid, but now…” Groaned Liam, letting the sentence go unfinished.

They knew what was at stake, and knew Rhendal had been milked dry by their inability to protect Lord Liam.

“We would have already perished without your aid, we can endure a little discomfort for our lady to heal herself.” Admitted Eldred, several men nodded or grunted in agreement.

“I hate having to choose! Dammit all, there just isn’t enough healing to go around. We are a single battle away from total defeat.” Said Liam, fuming at his weakness.

“You’re right my lord. After the feathered serpent…” Eldred shivered, “Well sir, we’ve been loading the wagons. Most are full, and we’ve pickled what we can’t take with us, we should be able to leave tomorrow morning sir.” Announced Eldred.

Mild confusion entered Liam’s mind. Pickled everything they can’t take with them? Petrans practically worship food, but… maybe we need more of that culture in Greenwood.

In pursuit of an answer he scanned the militia. Smiles and thumbs up moved around the circle of weary men. Warriors trying to reassure their lord of his decision to put Nyota first. Their selflessness moved Liam, and he would never be able to express his appreciation for them.

After the first day of her consciousness, Nyota’s condition stabilized, allowing her to turn her healing outward. To save their protectors she eschewed her own health, triaging others who were more critically injured. Each day she saved a life, indebting Petra to Nyota in equal measure with Liam’s Lightning. But the casualties were mounting, no matter where Liam looked, there was an injured Petran, forcing Liam to divide his limited healing into ever smaller scraps. A choice Nyota always answered by healing others.

Her selflessness had troubled some of the men. She was clearly in dire need of healing, covered in bandages and missing an eye, but Liam would not let them say anything that might cause her to worry and his stern looks silenced any dissension.

“Tomorrow morning sounds excellent, I would hate to travel in the dark.” Opined Liam, recalling his run in with the gorgons.

A single gorgon could probably wipe out the entire militia if they ambushed us on the road, how many of them spawned outside the city? Or in another town?

“What this? Lord Liam is scared of the dark! Have no fear m’lord, my militia will deliver you safely, come dragons or ketzu-coats!” Ribbed Eldred.

Liam took the joke in the good humor it was meant, chuckling as he returned to Nyota’s side. The old sage met him on the porch, a look of grim determination on his face.

“We should portal home lord Liam, you have been gone far too long.”

“Arlet is a more capable man than either of us when it comes to military matters. Wherever he is, the people are safe in his capable hands. Mont st Michel has a wall, as does Greenhaven and Sintra.” Answered Liam.

“He lives and breathes for you! I do not doubt his loyalty, or the skill of a level ten champion, but we parted ways over a week ago. I fear he will lose hope, and begin fighting battles he does not plan to win.”

“We can return soon enough, do not forget that we came here with a purpose. Also…” Liam rolled his shoulders, trying to work the stiffness out of them. “I trust you, but these portals feel as though they disassemble your atoms and then glue everything back in place, with Nyota’s extant injuries… We cannot risk it.” Finished Liam, shaking his head.

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“I uhm… Fine. We will walk then.” Grumbled the old man, jaw working in irritation.

Wait, we can see the monsters before they come through the portals. Can we invert that somehow?

“Hey Rhendal… Have you ever tried to open a really small portal? One that you wouldn’t send anything through.” Asked Liam.

“M’lord, what would the purpose of such a portal be?” Asked the sage, mind beginning to churn.

“We can see glimpses of the other side of a portal. I was just thinking it would be useful if you could summon a portal a hundred feet above a town. An impromptu eye in the sky, but instead of focusing on sending anything through, focus on letting the light from the other side come to you.”

Rhendal’s jaw hit the floor, his eyes twinkling with the prospect of his magic being used in a novel way. He didn’t even bother to leave the porch, summoning a portal then and there. A foot wide sphere of purple energy formed in front of him, flattening until it was as smooth as paper.

“Let the light through? You say the strangest things, Lord Liam.” Muttered Rhendal.

“Think of light like water, and focus on letting that through.” Added Liam, guiding him with a hopeful analogy.

“Ha! Who is the master and who is the apprentice!” Chuckled Rhendal.

Liam wiggled past the sage, peeking over his shoulder to see the fortified city of Mont st Michel. Men and women from every walk of life manned the walls, tailors hurling stones and city guards throwing javelins at things beyond their view. As a whole the city seemed fine, citizens could be seen in the streets and the obsidian cathedral that gave the city its name stood tall.

“Thank God they are safe.” Whispered Liam.

“My lord! You’re a genius!” Exclaimed Rhendal.

A wave of his hand dismissed the portal, and another exaggerated gesture birthed a new one into existence. Enthusiastically summoning and dismissing portals until he had surveyed all five cities in Greenwood. Avignon’s people were haggard and bloody, but the cathedral remained unbroken. Rhendal’s enthusiasm was infectious as he surveyed Greenhaven and Sintra.

Greenwood appeared normal, save for the gaunt eyed militia that patrolled its walls and streets. Liam counted quickly, marveling at the total of more than eighty men –and a few women– guarding Greenhaven and Greenwood Keep. Far more than Baron Green had ever paraded through his territory. Where did they all come from? Has Arlet gone full tyrant and drafted every civilian? I need to get home…

“Arlet must have some hope remaining.” Muttered Rhendal.

Or he is just doing what a champion would and fighting to the last breath, and dragging the whole city along.

The peeping portal vanished, replaced by an image of Kesky. Humans moved through the town, harvesting wheat and fruit as if the world was normal. Farms sprawled around wooden homes, unburnt and intact.

“They- how are they unharmed?!” Shouted Rhendal.

“Look closer, I can’t place it, but something doesn’t seem right. Look there, why move in groups of two?” Said Liam, pointing through the portal at a pair of children.

Rhendal followed his aim, noticing the same odd pairings. Across Kesky no one moved alone, everyone had a partner, stranger still, each couple was of the same age and gender, girls worked alongside girls, women labored with women, and men… Where are all the men?

“Something isn’t right…” Began Liam, pausing as two figures slithered into view.

Medusai were patrolling Kesky, a pair of the serpent women were slithering through town with a squad of men following them, chief among them was the green wizard, Oberon Stoneshaker. Rhendal and Liam watched with rapt eyes, captivated by the serpent women casually coexisting, as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

“Rhendal… Don’t tell the Petrans about this, wait, tell Eldred, but only Eldred, if the gorgons are intelligent, if they are people…” Liam wanted to puke, did we kill innocent people? He wondered.

“Yes sir.” Whispered Rhendal, “I don’t like this one bit, I’ll observe Kesky daily, try to figure out… everything?” He finished, curiosity overcoming fear.

Sintra came last, shaking Liam’s already brittle resolve. Fires raged across the city, obscuring the portal’s view with their black smoke. Defenders ran across portions of the wall, actions concealed by the hazy nature of the portal’s vision. Ships moved laboriously in the harbor, sailors skittering across their decks like tiny worker bees.

“Sintra’s weakness, fire.” Said Rhendal.

Weakness? This isn’t a game! Sintra’s wall is made of wood, ships are made of wood, homes are made of wood!

“The whole city is more flammable than gasoline.” Muttered Liam.

“Gas-oo-lean? Maybe? Do not panic yet Lord Liam, Sintra has more water than all other cities combined. Besides, they know how to deal with fires, see how the buildings are separated into blocks and the streets are wide?” Said Rhendal.

To Liam’s untrained eye the city appeared normal, but with Rhendal’s guidance he began to notice odd dimensions, unusually wide cobblestone streets criss crossed the city, providing firebreaks, with several major thoroughfares being fifty feet wide. Sintra must have burned down in the past and been rebuilt with fire-prevention methods… Thought Liam.

“Could it be a controlled burn? Can you steal the fire through the portal?” Asked Liam, still wanting to save the people, a limited burn still burned down homes.

“Bah! Your madness never ends! No! I dare not move mana through a portal, at best it would end my spell neatly, at worst… Well, I once saw a student try a similar feat. His mana was pulled from his body by the portal he summoned, forcibly draining his body until it sucked out his soul.” Said Rhendal, shaking his head.

Rhendal dismissed the portal, unable to watch the carnage from a helpless vantage. Liam placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“We have a score of hardened warriors here, and a score of farming-fighters as well, we can be the relief Sintra needs.” He said.

“Do not forget the wagons of food we will take to Sintra. I hope the sailors are fond of smoked fish.” Laughed Rhendal.

“I can’t imagine the looks on their faces when we bring smoked mermaid from a landlocked farm…” Said Liam.

Despite their banter Liam’s spirits fell, winter meant cold and snow, two duels Baron Green avoided by journeying south. Recollections of lavish parties surfaced through the miasma of drunken memories within Liam’s mind.

Green never took the time to survive a winter up here, ah, but his father did the same… I know nothing about winter survival without indoor heating and plumbing. Oh man, what are outhouses like in december? Liam tried to shake it off, changing focus.

Everything has to be grown locally, backyard to table, Wal-mart doesn’t exist here. Hmmm. I wonder if Green has enough coin to import food. Sintra is a port city, so I could sail a fleet down the river, passing through Mercian barony and Marques Lancaster’s holdings to the capital, buying food along the way. If we stayed in groups then the fleet could fight off any sea creatures… Wait, are there sea monsters portalling in too? Even a kraken would seem like a house trained rabbit compared to Quetzalcoatl...

Ah! I know nothing about this world! So many problems and no solutions. Liam exhaled harshly, focusing on a mantra one of his professors always recited. ‘Work the problem, divide it into steps then solve each step.’

Get the Petrans to Sintra.

Send the king evidence of the calamity. A few medusa heads ought to be persuasive.

Get Avignon’s survivors to Mont St Michel.

Survive.

“Rhendal, there is one more city we need to see…”

“Oh?” Asked the sage.

“Arlet’s last mission was to deliver an envoy to Blackwood, requesting men and supplies to help us endure. If he sent help, we should have seen his banners at Avignon or Mont St Michel.” Said Liam.

“Mmmm. Troublesome news indeed, I will scry his cities soon Lord Liam, my old bones need some rest before I will risk more portals, for now go to Nyota.” Advised Rhendal.

“Thank you. For everything, without your advice and portals we would not have been able to save the people of Avignon. And Petra would have died.” Said Liam.

“You are most kind Lord Liam, but you flatter me. I am only doing what any decent mage would do in these circumstances. Save your gratitude for the militia, they rush into battle with little more than sticks-” Began Rhendal.

A soft voice from inside the hut interrupted him.

“Liam?”