I’m awoken to searing pain. A hole in my side would do that funny enough. More surprising is that I didn’t bleed to death or die of exposure. Movement startles me but I calm when I notice Emma curled under my less bloody side. So much blood only my back and face were spared the new paint job but rain cleaned everything that wasn’t fresh.
It’s painful to even breathe but with the help of Emma and the horses I’m able to stand and eventually mount one. I’m tempted to spare Emma from my mess but the horses struggle doing anything less than fifty so she has to get a little bloody. The dirt road leading back to Falden is littered with corpses and I’m forced to cover Emma's eyes for most of the trip.
The gate was so much worse.
Literal piles of corpses sit on either side of the road as people try their damndest to ignore the smell of blood and voided bowels. As if nothing happened the gates are open and a steady flow to and from the town has me wondering just how jaded these people are. The gate guards only glance at me once while we enter, there’s a lot less than yesterday, and the ones I do see all look tired.
Finding Oliver would’ve been my biggest challenge had he not left the wagon whatsoever, I silently hope he didn’t sleep in it. Seeing me and Emma brings a smile to his face and then he notices the empty horse behind me. I’m unable to help reattach the horse so as much as he hates work he does it without complaint while I sit in the back holding my side.
“Doctors won’t see you until they’ve finished with the guard so it’ll be a few days till we get you patched up proper.”
The doctors of this world scare me, they use the methods of the dark ages first and then magic to fix what they just made worse. So it’s all leeches and pliers until they make you scream and have to try again after some magic. Good thing bandages are a thing.
It’s snowing by the time we stop outside an inn. The rain from last night was colder but something about the slowly falling ice is so much worse. Our room is the second largest in the inn and cost a small pile of gray coins from the box Oliver was given.
We just stare at each other for a while while Emma sleeps in the other room.
I’m the one to break the silence.
“It’s all gone.”
“Mhm.
“He died fighting I think. It was hard to tell.
A big ring of fire appeared so I figured that was my cue to run away. He said it was gonna be flashy.”
“I’m sure he’d be glad you and Emma got away.”
“Yeah.”
“Get some rest, don't want an infection on top of the bleeding.”
I can’t sleep and after an hour of tossing and turning, I’m tempted to give up and just lie here. Emma appears next to my bed, tears welling in her eyes, I still can’t sleep but she’s snoring in seconds.
—{}{}{}{}{}—
Oliver.
I count the box of coins again. Stop when I reach the bottom and recount again. It’s a lot, in fact, it’s far far too much and a rather dangerous coin keeps me from telling Xavier just how much it is.
I’m sure what he saw in the village was awful, things he'll never get out of his head and I don’t need to go making that worse by telling him what’s in this crate.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
I sigh at the empty room.
Five hundred Irons, now four eighty after I paid for the inn for a few weeks. That’s enough on its own to start a brand new smithy here in town, not that it would do well the market being what it is. Then there’s the Steel coins, two hundred of them, would be enough to restart the village not that we would. And finally, at the bottom of the crate something I’ve only held once before when I was asked to make a sword for a Black Shield.
Silver is the lowest noble coin worth close to three thousand Steel coins, above that is the Gold coin worth ten Silver or about thirty thousand Steel. Then from what I saw on my singular visit to the capital is the Platinum coin, worth a hundred Gold.
Sitting at the bottom of the crate was a silver coin, or what most people called a nobility plate. That’s because Silver, Gold, and Platinum coins aren't actually coins, they are massive plates of the metal enchanted to a specific owner. And this one was in my name.
Forget repairing the village we could buy a new one and the people to populate it quite literally making us low-end nobility. Out here this close to the Scar we could buy that much more, no one wanted the border, not even the bad nobles.
But therein lies our problem, even being a master rank blacksmith I can’t just spend a Silver coin I’d be executed on the spot. My name being on the coin be damned.
To spend something so massive there were exactly two places we could go, the capital treasury run by the king and his appointed accountant, or. My head turns to the room where Xavier and Emma are fast asleep.
He could spend it inside the academy city. My old bones won’t last the trip there and that’s if they let me in uninvited. Xavier might, might, be able to spin Emma as the daughter Arvi mentioned to his friend in the school. That would explain his needing to be there with the young girl and having the coin as a stipend for whatever she needed.
Pulling the coin out I separate it from the rest. The normal coin would last most people years in this amount, I haven’t got long left anyway if I’m careful I’ll be set for life. Slowly I release my mana into the Silver plate. My name fades from its surface and is replaced by Xavier’s.
—{}{}{}{}{}—
Victoria.
The Black Shields are supposed to be the elite of the elite. People who’ve given up their lives and sometimes families to pursue power in the name of the people.
“So Fredrick tell me again what happened?”
My cup shatters as I go to take a drink ruining the facade that is my calm demeanor.
“Well I followed him as far as I could but the trail led back to Falden and while I do plan on going back I thought it more important to tell you about what happened in person.”
“Yes, you mentioned the slow nature of the guild's mail system.
I was referring to what happened with the Nomad corpse you said was manaless?”
“Oh yeah, with how mangled he was it’s either that new Prealus variant or that guy can strengthen himself without mana. Regardless, pretty bad right?
I don’t know the council’s feelings regarding all this but surely they aren’t happy with that thing running around.”
“No, they aren't, which is why I asked you to watch it at all times, they’d rather kill it than risk a second Scar but I’m beginning to doubt the possibility of that.
In fact, I’m sure of it now, it should be able to reduce the effects of the Scar to manageable levels.
It’s only a matter of time before we can get a real expedition in there.”
“So can I go back now?”
“Fine but give your report to the secretary.”
As the door closes I’m left alone with the fact that a second Scar really could be walking around out there. I do think it’s unlikely but if something were to augment the strange way it reacts to mana. Unlikelier still, but a possibility nonetheless. For now, though, the biggest threat would be those nobles unaware of its nature.
Fredrick was acting like that strength was unexpected even after a few months of observation so it most likely triggers through trauma. That could make a direct capture difficult. Unless?
The High Protectorate are well versed in the capture of elite individuals, they’d need a reason, and while I can’t exactly tell them about its nature. I’m sure some work could be done to let’s say, forge an application for the Black Shields. It’ll take time but given what Fredrick said, joining the guild is almost guaranteed.