Fria was in the corner, Zan beside her. Carver stood at the door with an arrow ready, a deep-set frown on his face. He lowered his bow when he saw Darian coming, but he remained tense. “What happened?” he asked, peeking around Darian. “I was distracted and didn’t notice you leave.”
“I’ll explain when we’re safe.” Darian brought the healing potion up so Carver could see it. “Will this get her back on her feet?”
He took the glass container in his hand and turned it this way and that. “Where did you get this?”
“Doesn’t matter right now. Will it help?”
Carver looked from the potion to Fria and back again. “Enough to get her moving, but her body will have to do the rest.” He crouched down beside the girl, her eyelids fluttering. “Drink this.”
“Not…from you.” Her voice was weak. Zan whimpered and licked her pale hand. Her eyes fully opened and she glanced about the room like she didn’t know where she was. Eventually, she looked up at Darian, the same flash of recognition passing over her face. “You,” she said. “I’ve seen you before.”
“She’s delirious,” Carver said, forcing the potion up to her mouth. “Please Fria, do this for your father if you must do it for someone.”
The girl hesitated at first, but then she nodded and opened her mouth, eyes closed. As Carver poured the potion down her throat, her milky pale skin flushed red, life seeping back into her body. She coughed, her fingers twitching.
“Can you walk?” Darian asked, glancing back at the front door. “The undead are on their way.”
“I think.” She pushed up to her feet, Carver’s shoulder under her good arm. “But I can’t move swiftly.”
“I have more potions,” Darian opened the satchel, but Carver stopped him.
“Any more will do more harm than good,” he said. “She can’t handle another. It would be like giving her poison.”
“Then one will have to do.” Darian grit his teeth. He could still smell her blood. While the potion might have healed some of her wounds, the gash under her right sleeve made his mouth water. But he beat back his instincts and instead motioned for them to follow.
“What about the Wargs?” Carver asked, Fria grunting in pain beside him.
“They’re gone,” Darian said stepping into the open air. “But we must hurry.”
He opened his map, hoping the menu would be invisible to the others. When they had no reaction to it, Darian inspected their location. We have to head pretty far south to reach the cave. He sniffed. We still have a while before sunrise, but we’ll be cutting it close. “Follow me.”
Zan walked alongside Darian, the wolf’s ears perked up and his nose twitching. He can probably sense the undead are closing in on us. Darian glanced back. Carver was doing his best to help Fria along, but the archer wasn’t much bigger than her. He lacks the strength to help her the whole way. He froze, a jolt of fear shooting through him when he realized. I’m going to have to carry her.
“Give her to me,” Darian said slipping his dagger into his belt. “I’ll carry her.”
“If you’re sure,” Carver leaned down, Fria gritting her teeth.
She was still looking at him like she wanted to say something, but both of them knew any discussion would have to wait. She was surprisingly light, but Darian had to be careful with her injured arm. She wrapped her good one around the back of Darian’s neck, her throat right below his mouth.
Looking down, he could see the pink flush of her cheek, the thrum of blood in her veins. But he took a step, then another, fighting his darkening thoughts. Think of something else. Anything. He began jogging, Fria squeezing him tighter. He thought first of the undead that were on their way, but it was wiped away by the meal in his arms. He shook his head, thoughts turning to Zan and Carver who ran along behind him. What would they think if they knew what he really was? But then his mind flashed to Carn, his body torn and oozing. Darian’s fangs emerged, sliding free of his mouth as his pulse quickened. He leaned down ready to bite
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But then he remembered his parents.
How they worked hard and never complained, how they kept him fighting all the way until the end. He didn’t have much in his past life, but he always had their support. He jumped over a log, the forest around him blurring as the memories came one after another. The nights they spent watching bad movies, the times his mother’s warm smile lightened his heart, the times his father played games with him, never letting him win—they all swirled within him, and his fangs retracted.
Thank you.
“Up ahead!” Carver called, Darian grinding to halt, nearly slipping on the grass.
Atop a small hill stood five skeletons. Three had bows, their jerking arms already reaching for arrows. The other two had swords and bucklers, their rickety bones carrying them down the hill.
We don’t have time for this. But the archers would make it difficult to run. “Stay here,” Darian said, dodging to the right. He laid Fria down behind an overturned tree while Carver returned fire. Zan jumped to the side, an arrow just missing him. Then he howled.
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Buff Applied: Pack Leader's Howl
* +8 Temporary Strength
* +8 Temporary Dexterity
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Darian burst from cover and cast [Veil of Mist] using the enchanted chain around his neck. The thick wall of mist would make it harder for Carver to land a hit, but it would do the same for the three skeleton archers.
He rushed forward and pulled his dagger free, casting [Veil of Mist] one more time. A notification appeared warning him that he was out of uses for the day, but he wouldn’t need another. The first skeleton he saw swung at him with its blade, but Darian jumped back and cracked it across the head with an enhanced blow. Zan tackled it and Darian jumped over the wolf, ranged spells flying from his hand and into the mist. He rolled, an arrow thudding the ground behind him. The skeleton archer was readying another arrow when Darian tackled it.
He grabbed it, one finger in its empty eye socket. A combination of [Shocking Grasp] and strikes killed it. Then he stood, ducking just as another arrow sped his way. He charged and smashed into the skeleton’s chest with a [Determined Strike] and a [Flare] to the face. One more quick strike ended it, but then a sword came from his right. He backed away but something smashed into his shoulder, his left arm going numb.
“More from behind!” Carver called, the mist between them growing.
“Grab Fria and head this way!” Darian yelled as he blocked an overhead swing. He looked into the Skeleton’s empty eyes, the green flame within swirling. “Give me that sword.”
He dropped his dagger as the monster came with another downward chop. He caught it by the wrist and twisted, the blade falling from the skeleton’s grip. He cast [Shocking Grasp] and pushed it away, a blast of flame from his palm finishing it off. Snatching up the sword, he went for the final archer, but Zan was already there, the monster’s head in his jaws. He looked at his arm and saw a black shafted arrow sticking from it. With a grunt, he tore it free.
Carver came through the mist, Fria slumped against him. Darian handed his sword to Carver and took the girl back in his arms. Her blood still tempted him, but he was able to focus on the task at hand. “Hurry!” He ran, Carver right on his heels.
They crashed through the forest, Darian leading the way. “Are they still behind us?”
“We’ve probably gained enough distance,” Carver said. “But we should still run a bit further.”
And so they did. They ran and ran, the world blurring around them. Eventually, they reached the ring of trees that marked the pond. They slowed, Fria’s cheeks wet with tears. It was clear the girl was still in incredible pain, but she hadn’t uttered a single complaint during the journey.
Darian brought her to the cave mouth and held her while Carver gathered Darian’s pillow and the rug to form a makeshift cot for her. When he laid her down, she coughed, blood on her lips.
“Sit her up,” Carver commanded.
Darian tore his eyes away from her and stepped back. Seeing the blood so close nearly sent him over the edge.
“What’s wrong?” Carver asked, Darian not sure if he was talking to him or the girl.
Darian walked toward the pond, a sudden realization hitting him.
Why haven’t I received a notification for enemies defeated? Then he heard snarling from the bushes.
Three creatures emerged, hunched and on all fours. He thought they were wolves at first, but then he smelled the rot.
The first was missing half its face, its yellowed skull covered in patches of decaying fur. Green fire burned in its one empty socket, the remaining eye milky white. The other two had bones showing here and there—a rotted paw, a pair of ribs, a curved spine. They each growled, the sound coming from mouths that dripped with thick, greenish fluid.
“Here!” Carver called, hurling something through the air.
Darian caught the sword and turned, Zan crouched by his side, ready to attack.
He was about to charge into combat when the first ray of sunlight split the grass.