Excerpt from The Mad Scholar's Wall—

Decades passed, and the breeding of our children only grew in scope.

Our population nearly doubled overnight as every man — and most women — of age tried to find an elf willing to bear them children.

It was only natural.

What parents want to intentionally handicap their child from birth? To face the growing discrimination against those who were, without a doubt, lesser.

The parents of mundane children might as well chop off their children's arms for how other kids would treat them.

It was a sentiment that only grew as the years passed, and the portion of the population in Olimpia without mental powers continued to fall.

It was quickly discovered what the difference between half-humans and full elves were.

The mixed-bloods came out on top when flinging around raw telekinetic and telepathic powers.

If too much elven blood was mixed in, the children would drift towards the elves' specialty, that of control and willpower.

But control took time to master, and developing willpower took a lifetime to build. Years upon decades spent studying, practicing, and honing skills.

Having the natural raw power to overwhelm everything in your path was inherent. It takes little more skill than learning how to use it.

Sure, someone with outstanding control of their mental powers could fight back against those with raw power, but it required a baseline of strength.

A falling tree will not be stopped by a bush less than a tenth its size.

So, the leading families made the easy choice. Logical even in their eyes. Why compete with a people who have a millennium of experience honing and developing their skills?

The families bred for raw power.

And the elves helped.

**********

Lifting my head, I blinked, trying to clear my vision. I had no idea where I was, but my body wasn't throbbing with scorching lines of fire, so everything was looking up.

My last clear memory was walking through the night as I tried to return to the Northern Fort. Then, in a moment of weakness, I smashed into a tree I meant to lean against for a small rest. As I lay on the ground, I decided to stay there for a while. It was a good place to close my eyes for a bit. Then… nothing.

As I searched my surroundings, I found myself lying on a cot with a blanket thrown over me. To my sides were men and women wearing blood-stained bandages lying in their own cots in a well-lit stone room. A room that looked awfully familiar.

"Ahh, look who's finally awake. Was wondering when you would finally get up."

Head turning in the other direction, I looked for the voice. I found a middle-aged elf woman standing at the foot of my bed, looking down at me with a tired smile.

I could see new and old spots of blood covering her white full-body apron. There was even a patch of blood streaked across her neck that she failed to entirely wipe off.

"Elder," I said, trying to bow my head to the old elf while lying down. "It's good to see you again."

"Wish I could say the same," She said, stepping forward and gently pushing me down with one hand as I tried to sit up, "none of that now." She then pulled back the blanket covering my body, sitting on the side of my bed.

"That is quite the painting you have created," Elder Bark said drily, her eyes clinically sweeping over my discolored chest before they locked onto the bandage wrapped around my left arm.

She started unwrapping the bandage and probing my arm and chest with her fingers, releasing small pulses of mental energy into my body as she spoke, "Hmm, bruising might look bad, but it's nearly healed… Your ankle might be a bit stiff… Arm will be stiff and might twinge in pain a bit if used too hard, but after a few days of rest, you'll be fine… Doesn't seem to be any permanent mental damage."

Finished with her inspection, her head turned, and she looked me in the eyes. The warmth of concern when I first saw her was replaced with anger and annoyance, and she smacked me on the side of the head.

"Oww!" I grumbled, rubbing my ear.

"Hush, Fool-boy. You'll be fine so long as you don't try to melt your brain again. And maybe a little pain will make you accept your limitations so I don't have to tell your mother you died."

I gave Bark my best smile in reply. Seeing the flash of irritation rear up in the depths of her green eyes, I rushed to plead, "I didn't have a choice, Bark. We found a beastkin vanguard, and… it was the largest one I've ever seen. At least a couple thousand." I looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to our conversation before leaning closer to ensure no one could hear, "There were birds too, Bark. Hundreds. And their scouts had some way of hiding their minds. Less than twenty feet away, and I couldn't feel a thing until the moment they attacked…"

My vision of Bark faded as I returned to the moment a cold hand ran down my spine. I should have died in the forest, just like the other scouts in my squad. And possible… No. Blinking, I refocused on the medico.

Bark's eyes were wide as she leaned back, her face pale. She trusted my words, knowing I wouldn't lie to her. Being a Medico, she couldn't get caught up in the why or how of something happening. She had to accept what was. Then, decide what to do next. If she didn't, people would die. So, her mind was going right to the implications of my words.

I saw the same realization appear in her eyes that I came to while trapped in the moss tunnel. We were at the front lines of the largest Beast Tide in… centuries? Decades for sure. And we weren't ready.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

We shared a moment of silence as we each had our own thoughts about the dark futures ahead.

Then, there was a distant shout, and the moment was broken.

Until we died, we had too much to do rather than wallow in what might be.

Looking at Bark's sometimes kind, wrinkled face, I asked the question that was in the back of my mind the moment I first saw her. "How did I get here? The last thing I remember was stumbling through the forest, trying to return to camp. Then I fell over and passed out."

She snorted, squinting her eyes at me. I flinched back, sure that I would get hit for some unknown reason, but after a second of nothing happening, I lay back on the cot, smiling at her.

"Haa~" Bark sighed, shaking her head in resignation as if she had lost some battle. "Can't say how you got there, but a patrol of fish found you laying against the earthworks of their camp early in the morning yesterday."

“…Really?" I incredulously asked, getting a nod and shrug of the shoulders in reply. “Well… that's strange…" I muttered, a frown appearing on my face.

I was finally about to ask if she knew if Markus made it back when a trio of legionaries burst in frantically shouting. "Medico! Medico! We need a medico!" I glanced at the three, taking them all in within a second.

The one on the left had a slash from his right shoulder to mid-chest. It was shallow enough that it was little more than a flesh wound.

The middle one was unconscious, with blood dripping down her face from a slash in her hairline and a gut wound that looked somewhat serious. At least severe enough that she would probably die if it was left untreated for a week.

And the one on the right was walking with a limp. He winced as they came to a stop, and he had to hold up his friend's weight while they waited for someone to respond. His left leg was soaked in blood, leaving bloody footprints in his wake.

"Blood Week?" I asked Bark, not really needing her to answer.

“Yeah… The fish got their swords yesterday." She said, giving a long-suffering sigh while shaking her head in resignation. Getting up, she brushed at something at her waist before turning.

It was a habit of hers. I had never seen anything close to lint on Bark's clothes, and while spots of blood covered her, there wasn't one where she was scrubbing.

"Didn't know we got a new crop of fish," I said, taking a new look at everyone around me. I knew something was wrong when I first saw them. Now, I knew what was bothering me.

All of them were young, and everyone who was awake had a look of shame on their face. Some of the fish taking up a bed had what amounted to minor scratches that, in an actual battle, would be treated with stitches, if treated at all.

Some of the tension left my body as I realized that the coming battle hadn't started and this was just the fish hurting themselves. Typical fish… I thought in relief.

Laying back in my cot, I pulled the blanket back over my body and put my hands behind my head as I wiggled, getting comfortable.

I deserved a break after everything that happened. And what better way to dodge everyone that would give me something to do than stay in the medical building I actually belong in.

Vlore made it back. I would bet my life on that.

He would relay everything of consequence I told him — calling it his own information — while alerting the legion to potential threats. Not that the tribunes would believe any one person's report. Not with something so outlandish.

Even if the Inquisition was around to delve into the reporter's mind, they still would not take the report as a consecrated fact. They would assume someone implanted the memories.

Really, if I had not lived through it all, I would not believe it either.

There wouldn't be time to rest in the near future, so I would get as much rest as possible while the getting was good.

Closing my eyes, I planned on drifting off to sleep when a cold shiver ran down my spine.

Freezing in place, I knew I had to run. My mind raced, creating a mental map of the monitoring ward from what I had just seen. I was lucky, as I was placed near the exit of the ward.

It only took me a fraction of a moment, but I knew my path. It would only take me two and a half seconds at a full sprint, and I would be out of the building.

My body tensed as the sweetest of voices dashed my hopes and dreams of rest. "Oh, Green, aren't you going to Purge yourself?" The poisonously sweet voice called.

Letting out a fake snore, I tried to convince everyone I was already asleep. But I knew it was already past the time a tactical retreat was possible.

I should have remembered. It was a critical mistake on my part.

The biggest taskmaster in the camp was in the ward with me.

"I see. I see…" Said the too-sweet voice. "You must be so uncomfortable…"

Eyes snapping open, I tried to throw off the blanket and get up, but it was too late.

"Ahh!" I screamed as my cot lurched on its side, throwing me to the ground.

"Sweety." Bark said, leaning over me with a kind, caring smile, "You need to be more careful getting out of bed."

"Yep," I said, sucking back the air knocked out of my lungs from the fall. "Never been one to get out of bed without a spectacle if someone's watching."

"Well, since you are so enthusiastic about getting up, you can help me out around here while I keep an eye on you."

“…It would be my pleasure, Elder Bark…"

"Such a sweet boy you are." She said, her smile never slipping off her face. "Little Emerald raised you so well."

"Yeahh~," I said, sitting up and unwrapping myself from the blanket.

"Make sure you clean up your mess," She said as she turned and walked away. Then, calling to the trio, "Over here, we have to go to the treatment tables."

I looked around at the fish as I straightened the cot, but none of them would look me in the eye. It seemed the fish had already learned the golden rule. Never upset the medico. I didn't even get the pretense of support or understanding from them, as they were still looking away.

"Bunch of cowards," I grumbled under my breath as I straitened the blankets and pulled out the small trunk underneath it that held my gear.

I only took out my sweat-soaked and blood-stained trousers, tunic, and belt, slipping them on, along with my boots. Standing up, I looked around.

Bark and the three fish had disappeared.

It was to be expected. The trio wasn't supposed to come in here, as this section of the medico building was for monitoring and resting. I was sure their instructors would hear of their mistake, and they would pay for it later.

Well, they would pay for it more. Bark wouldn't give them the most loving care since they disturbed her moment of rest due to their ignorance.

Walking to the far end of the building that Bark walked toward, I grabbed one of the plates of stew and bread on the food cart that was always in the monitoring ward and began scarfing it down as I walked. The rumbling in my stomach lessened as I ate.

The healing performed on me wasn't that bad — and far from the worst I had ever experienced — but I felt like I hadn't eaten in two days. And that wasn't just because I was asleep for one.

Skilled Medicos might be able to get you back on your feet in minutes with their unique aspect of mental energy, but it takes a toll on the recipient's body, usually in the form of needing lots of food. Eating more after a medicos healing was to be expected. The thing was, if someone is too weak, a medico trying to heal a patient will kill rather than heal.

I was far from the point a healing would have killed me. It would take multiple severe wounds being healed simultaneously and pints of blood loss for it to be a risk. My brain melting wouldn't count.

So, all that I would have to deal with was hunger. Which wasn't that bad. Who doesn't like to eat when starving? It makes the food taste better.

The only downside was I was on the clock with Bark. She wasn't known for waiting. Luckily, the food wasn't that warm — cold, really — so I was able to force it down by the time I reached the end of the rows of cots.

Slipping past the dual free-swinging doors, I whipped my mouth as I saw three medicos and their assistants treating a line of fish sporting various sword-related injuries.

It always seemed that no matter how much training a fish received with a wooden sword, they always found a way to injure someone when handed a blade. Usually themselves.

Walking down the alley in the center of the building, I approached Bark, and her three other victims lined up in front of her.

Turning when I reached her alleys, I walked up the staff side, passing in front of her as she lightly touched the woman with the head and gut wounds, her eyes blank in concentration.

Standing behind her, I watched the wound on the woman's head wound heal over with new skin at a visible rate.

Looking at the ever-growing line of fish, I sighed. This was going to be a long day.