Chapter Seventy-One: Stories

The next morning, Tom’s group set out on their first assignment. Val and the other group leads had sorted out a general plan, and then individual tasks for each group until the next meet.

Two teams of eight were sweeping out wide through the Deep, circling the entire way around Wayrest, with the purpose of recruiting any Hunters left after the Lord of Blood’s purge and bringing them back. They were also to scout, ensuring there were no secondary camps of orcs in the Deep, and would also be stopping at each of the trade roads and leaving messages carved into trees at the roadside, warning away merchants and travellers.

Val’s group had two main tasks. Val’s squad would be trying to reach Merin’s Shaft, the next village to the west along from May’s Crest. Merin’s was a mining village, one of two in the village rings, the other being Ren’s Delve. The hillier country to the south of Wayrest held ore, and large veins of various metals had been found underneath the site of the village.

Val hoped to bring back materials for Scriber and Cub, and had been loaned several storage rings for the purpose. One of the other teams had been tasked with going to Mik’s Pasture, a village known for its milk and beef and leather. It was a second ring village, but even further west. They hoped to get there quick enough that resistance would be light, allowing them to pilfer supplies.

Tom’s squad were tasked with bringing the merchant with the long-distance communication skill to meet with Watchman Glass. It was critical, now that they’d discovered the skill, to link up with Wayrest. Instantaneous communication would make an immense difference in coordinating their raids with the city defence.

As they travelled towards May’s Crest, Tom asked the woman how the skill worked exactly. It was, apparently, quite simple. Once she had met someone in person, she could offer them a connection. Once accepted, it allowed her to communicate with them via their wisps, just like Idealists who had formed a party.

Usually, wisp communication was limited to a distance of a mile or so, and party sizes were restricted to eight at the most. Her communication skill worked over hundreds of miles, and she could set up to fifty people as contacts, currently. It had allowed her to become extremely rich as a merchant, as she could check the price and demand of commodities in real time at her intended destination before she had even left. Tom liked the sound of the skill, but if he had the choice, he would still prefer long-distance movement to communication.

They reached their destination in good time, and Val and her squad said brief goodbyes before continuing onwards. Tom and his squad would wait where they had agreed with Glass, an hour or so into the Deep outside the village, and try to signal her.

They settled in to wait as dusk fell. Tom gathered as many of Sere’s bodies as he could spare, and began to send them up above the canopy in periodic bursts. It was this that Glass had agreed to watch for. He had to wonder what kind of sensory skill she had to be able to detect such tiny birds from so far away. It had to be ridiculously strong, but then again, she would have been chosen for the Watch for a reason.

He was lucky to have Sus and Sol to pick up the slack in coverage that using so many of Sere’s bodies caused. The pair of owls were almost as useful as Sere for scouting. Their eyesight and hearing were intensely acute. It had taken him a while to convince them he didn’t need to be appraised of every squirrel or rat they detected.

In the low light, nothing escaped them. They could operate effectively during the daylight as well, but they were much more vocal with their grumpiness and sleepiness. During the night they were merely irritable and drowsy.

Tom laid back against Sesame’s side and tried to rest as best he could, keeping some attention on Sus and Sol and the rest of Sere’s bodies. Rosa sat down next to him, and began absently scratching Sesa’s head. Cass perched herself on a raised oak root, and then lifted her shirt a little.

Tom caught a glimpse of dark black spots, and then a familiar materialised with a pop. It was a panther, sleek and black and shiny in the fading light. It gave a small yeowl, and then curled up at Cass’ feet.

“You’d think I would’ve gotten a familiar from Wood or the Forest, wouldn’t you?” Errol remarked. “But no. Always wanted one, myself. The company would be nice.”

“She’s beautiful,” Rosa remarked, nodding at the panther. It preened at the compliment.

“I only just got him. Manifested him under… under Killing, but I only found one essence since we escaped. Rea had a trove of them at her cave though. Let me have whichever ones I needed.”

“You spend enough time out here, you run into more essences than you could possibly need,” Tom offered. Errol nodded his agreement.

“Well, I’m glad. It’s …nice, having a familiar. Comforting, I guess. I feel like I want to keep her subbed all the time though, so she can’t get hurt.”

Tom looked as the panther stretched, flexing its claws. It yawned, revealing rows of deadly sharp teeth, before settling again.

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

“I think whatever you point her at has more cause for worry,” Tom said. Cass snorted. They sat in silence for a while, Tom still sending some of Sere’s bodies above the canopy in periodic bursts.

“How’d you end up with Suffering?” Cass asked eventually.

Tom felt Rosa tense, just slightly, from where she sat beside him. It was understandable, given the life he’d led to lead him to it. He’d come to terms with it now, for the most part, though. Nowadays, he couldn’t imagine anything worse than living a sheltered, civilian life, dressing in fine clothes, and spending his days rubbing shoulders with other nobles, and maybe having the odd duel. He noticed Errol had come out of whatever daydream he’d been in, waiting on his answer as well.

“Had a shitty home life. A really shitty one. I was in the same unit in the Reaping as you.” Cass nodded. They’d mentioned it briefly, in passing, before. “After the unit broke, I ended up with a small group. We got captured by the orcs. After I manifested, I managed to escape. Council sent me straight back out here.”

“Well, I can see how getting captured by those fuckers could trigger it off, at least,” she offered. “And for what it’s worth, the Council can suck a fat one. Didn’t see them sending any rescue mission out for us.” She spat to the side.

“I came by Fire and Smoke naturally,” Rosa said, speaking up. “But Speed… I manifested it during the escape.” Tom was a little surprised. It was unlike Rosa to be vulnerable. Especially not with people she didn’t know.

“I was so proud to be a Guard, and look at the good it did me. I was ashamed of being captured. And the orcs…” She shuddered. “I was ashamed of being afraid, too. But I was. I was terrified. I thought I would never see my family again. And when we were rescued, and we were running, all I could think of was how I needed to be faster, how I had to get away. And I was so much the coward, I manifested Speed.” Her head dropped. Tom was about to open his mouth when Errol spoke.

“I’ve been a Hunter for forty years, lass,” he began. “Forty years I’ve been out here. I’ve seen monsters of every kind. I could write a book bigger than any bestiary they keep in the Schools. I’ve fought every kind of animal you’ve ever heard of, and more. I’ve fought golems and sprites. I’ve fought spirits. I’ve fought a rockwyrm, and I’ve fought drakes.” He paused, looking directly at Rosa.

“There is nothing shameful about being afraid. There is nothing shameful about running. Bravery lies in putting yourself in the situation in the first place. It lies in going back, in doing better. And I see a woman who has made a choice, and is still out here.”

It was the most he had heard Errol speak so far. Though he might seem it, the man was definitely not simple. Tom wholeheartedly agreed with him. Rosa was the bravest person he knew. He felt her shoulders straighten at his speech.

“My story’s an old one. Like I said, I’ve been out here a long time. I was a Guard, once, just like you. Manifested Wood. Got a cushy posting patrolling the Artisan’s district. Thought I was the bee's Honey.

“Got into a tavern fight one evening. Punched a noble’s brat, and he fell wrong. Dead on the spot. And that was all it took. It was the Hunters for me the very next day.”

Everyone was silent. Admittedly, he’d killed a man, but the punishment seemed incredibly disproportionate.

“Fucking Council,” Tom said, eventually. They could all agree on that.

They were silent for another minute or two. There was an odd pressure, where everyone was obviously waiting for Cass to speak, but at the same time, no one wanted to push her. She heaved a great sigh.

“Well, if we’re getting everything out.” She visibly steeled herself, then launched into a halting tale.

“After our unit in the Reaping broke, I found myself with a small group too. There were three of us, all soldiers. We all had our gear, even. But we couldn’t catch a break.

“We kept running into monsters, one after the other. I think… twelve hours? Was the longest we went without fighting. We were exhausted. The injuries were building up. And we were desperately trying to get back to Wayrest.

“We ran into a wood sprite, one afternoon. We killed it, but it broke one of the other’s legs. Badly. He couldn’t stop screaming.

“We didn’t know what to do. We couldn’t move him, but we couldn’t just leave him either. We had nothing to treat it with. We had just started making splints when we heard it: barking. Braying and howling, in the distance.”

Tom shivered, and he saw Errol and Rosa do the same. They had all heard it. The sound of orcs on the hunt.

“We thought it was wolves coming. We tried to hide, but he wouldn’t stop screaming. And the barking, it was getting closer, and closer.”

Cass paused. Tom couldn’t see her face in any detail in the light, but she seemed to be shaking. Suddenly, with a gasp, she continued.

“I did it. I killed him. Slit his throat, right there. We had to do something, though.” Her voice was desperate, pleading.

“I manifested Killing and Injuries at the same time, as it happens. Turns out it didn’t matter. We were captured not long after. Wasn’t any wolves, either.” She chuckled around a thick throat.

“Goddess…” Rosa said. Tom echoed her a moment after. He was floored. It was horrific.

“I’ve spent forty years with Regret, and I’ve learned a thing or two,” said Errol, speaking into silence. “Our Ideals do not define us. Not unless we let them. I learned that the hard way. Take my advice: you don’t have to go down that road. Life is shit, but it’s also what you make of it. So build a turd palace.”

There was an absurd pause, and then they all started laughing. Softly, at first, and then louder. It was freeing; a release, in a way. Tom felt lighter, afterwards.

“To new beginnings,” he said. “And turd palaces.”

“Here, here!” they echoed.

A giggle sounded off to their right. They all whipped around, finding Watchman Glass leaning against a tree nearby. She grinned at them.

“What’s the joke?” she said, raising an eyebrow.