Vague thoughts swirled through the haze of River’s mind as she was pushed through the trees. The weeks of her situation steadily declining, the cruelty creeping into people she thought were normal.

They had collected themselves together, seeking safety in numbers.

Numbers. Power in numbers. Who holds the power?

Those with the desire to take it. Those with the will to hold it.

River couldn’t… think properly. The buzzing noise, fluctuating in the back of her mind.

She was hungry too, thirsty, dirty, withering.

Weak.

She felt compelled to move forwards, so she did. She didn’t have the willpower to resist it. She had given in, it hadn’t taken much.

She saw the vague line of silver people in front, and felt the crude wood pole in her fingers.

She marched forward.

She was single minded in her intentions, not by choice.

There was a commotion to her left, and she turned that way, curiosity overpowering the force compelling her for a moment.

“...RU..G...MO..!”

She hears something, but her mind was so addled she has no idea what was said.

She turned back to the line of silver, not too far now. She just had to… point…

Suddenly she left the ground, and the rhythmic impacts remind her of… running.

I am being… carried?

It was relieving, she was tired.

She instantly started drifting to sleep.

*WUMPH*

Like electrocution, the compulsion to move came back in force. The mental shockwave left a stinging pain in her consciousness. She reflexively struggled against her captor, until the compulsion faded again.

She was still being carried, more securely now. Emotion welled up from within her, she was helpless, held completely at the whims of others.

Her captor bent down.

The fizz of mana sounded against her forehead, clearing up some of the suffocating mental fog, like loosening a tight grip over her mind.

It was still there, but it was infinitely more comfortable.

She was put down, tied to a tree.

And then she waited. She was aware there were things happening all around her, but she was satisfied in the fact that she was unable to move for the moment, and hence, was not obligated to do anything else. She had been doing so, so much.

She heard the sickening noises.

Felt the heat shockwave.

And after a while, she felt the compulsion dissipate from her head.

Everything came into focus.

—

A token amount of guards waited with the carts and wagons. Rookies, older members of the force, those less fit for combat. Five of them.

Say what you would about Willowhaven, they didn’t often engage in conflict. There were, of course, criminal elements in the city. But anything you could find in Willowhaven paled in comparison to the underground powers in a true metropolis like the old cities of the Empire. Not to mention the Imperial Capital.

Willowhaven had perfectly competent guards, but, that was about the extent of it.

They were not exemplary.

“Takin’ their damned time.” One of the older guardsmen remarked, disapproving.

The single captain left behind was the youngest, recently promoted and new to the position. Hence left with the least responsibility. He replied, “I’m not liking the lack of communication. They should have sent us a messenger.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Another guardsman piped up, “Could they be compromised?.”

The same older guardsman from before barked a laugh. “Compromised enough that nobody could get to us? Please, they’re just lazy.”

If the Willowhaven guardsmen had the magical implements available to more advanced forces, they would have been able to keep in contact through a spool of cord. But they were materially expensive and a pain to use anyway, so they relied on human messengers.

Not that this was a particularly pressing issue a majority of the time, as again, the forces of Willowhaven rarely expected to face anybody too competent. Even adventurers in this part of the empire were less frequent. The lamenting forest was naturally devoid of enough mana to cause any threat.

Any bandits staying there had little chance of replenishing their supplies, much less come across anyone worth stealing from. So the forces of the city had come to the conclusion that this was not some well established group.

Something was nagging at the young captain’s mind. Something that he had heard.

Where had they gotten intel on the bandit group again? One of the prisoners?

His peers and superiors had been discussing the information, but under the assumption the numbers were inflated. As was wont of informants who were forced to give information against their will, even when compelled by magic to tell the truth. Many overestimated the strength of their own group subconsciously.

They did of course consider that the numbers could be accurate, the guards sent would still handily defeat such a force, but…

What if the force was… larger…

What if they had met enemies more well equipped than expected?

There was speculation this group was composed of foreign invaders, though his compatriots thought that too was a stretch. All of the foreign invaders they had been ordered to put down thus far were strange, but none seemed particularly malicious.

The young captain tightened his grip.

Orders are orders, you mustn't think like that. There are reasons for everything.

But in any case, a good guardsman considered all possibilities.

After mulling it over for a second, he nodded to one of the recruits. “You. Lighten your armor, I want you to avoid drawing attention, find out what’s going on–”

The older guardsman sighed, “This is unnecessary.”

The captain ignored him. He was a captain for a reason.

He continued, “Find out what’s going on and report back. If there is combat, stay away and do not engage. Information is all I want from you, do not be a hero.”

One of the other guards snorted, “Hero, he says,” elbowing another guard.

The captain didn’t begrudge them that, they were likely right.

It would, however, be better to act than not.

And so the captain waited with three guardsmen and a weight on his mind, sent the fourth off to gather information.

He thought about taking his fiancé out to dinner that night, he was feeling sentimental.

—

The walk away from the battle was both longer and shorter that Oliver had remembered. He did so much thinking, but arrived in such a small amount of time.

They could have avoided meeting the remaining guards. Their situation was suspicious, after all.

They could have gone back to the city themselves, they could have made a run for it to someplace else. But that would have left too many loose threads.

Of course, Oliver was loathe to return to captivity. However, Levi was still unaccounted for. He had a good foothold in public office, a place to sleep.

Start– again?

There was also the fact that Oliver was simply… tired.

And so, after telling River to keep her face obscured under her hood, they emerged from the trees.

The first guard to see them took a moment before standing. “You… HEY, DON’T MOVE!”

Oliver and River paused just outside the forest.

The guards rushed up to them with swords in hand. A younger one with a different helmet than the rest took centre. There were four of them in all. They were surrounded.

The young leader was measured in his tone, but his words implied alarm, “Prisoners, how in the name of demons did you get free?”

Oliver broke the news, a grimace on his face– not one for the tragedy of slain guardsmen, but one out of situational frustration. Not that the guardsmen could tell.

“Your force was defeated by the bandits. They are all gone.”

—

One of the guardsmen chuckled. The captain assumed it might have been the older guard, considering his earlier statements. But the older guardsman was taking this seriously. The one who made the outburst quieted, seeing the looks in everybody’s eyes.

“... That was a joke, right?”

The redheaded prisoner responded. “Go and see for yourself.”

The captain kept his face even, he didn’t take this criminal at face value, but he would wait for his impromptu scout to get back.

—

The leader nodded after a second, directing the guards to tie the prisoners back up.

“Hold up, before that.” Oliver held up a hand.

The guards did not stop for him until the leader signaled them to stop.

Oliver nodded at him. “Could I apply some bandages before I’m restricted?”

The leader frowned, “You’re not injured?”

Oliver nodded again, signalling at River, “Not for me, for her. Her face.”

One of the guards approached her, and Oliver stepped between them. “Best not to look if you’d like to eat tonight.” He managed a wry grimace.

They looked each other in the eyes for a still moment. The guard backed off. The Leader handed Oliver some bandages. “Go do it over behind the wagon if it’s that bad. If you run, we’ll shoot you down.” A guard produced a bow.

Oliver led River over to the spot, and removed her hood after making sure she was obscured, he wanted this done fast. River gave him a strange look, but stayed silent as he wrapped the bandages around her face in a hurry.

Whether or not it was medically accurate, they looked good enough to Oliver. As long as nobody looked too closely or remembered Paige too well, this would do just fine.

Oliver replaced the hood. “Best pretend you can’t speak.” She nodded.

They returned, got tied up, and played the waiting game.

—

The recruit found the remains of the battle. He would remember the sight for all his days. People called him soft, kind, weak. It was why he had joined the ranks of guardsmen in the first place. He wanted to prove himself in the eyes of his peers.

Never would he have imagined being faced with such a sight. He stumbled away in a daze, if there were any survivors, they were surely prisoners. He lost track of direction and wandered on for a short time.

He had training of course, he could orient himself with the stars in the sky, ever visible. He just didn’t think of it in the moment. He didn’t have any particular thoughts either.

It was as if his senses were simply dulled, as with his capacity to think.

An old lady caught his arm.