A crushing weight pressed down on Cara’s shoulders as she slunk into the ranger den. Aidan, Nola, and Kegan were gathered around a table, playing dice. As usual, Aidan’s pile of seeds was the largest.

You can do this, Cara lied to herself. “Alright, squad, hope you had a good night’s sleep, because we’ve got a mission to complete.”

Said out loud, it didn’t sound half as leadership-y as it had in her head.

Aidan and Nola turned and stood up straight. Kegan rolled the dice again. Double trees. He grinned from ear to ear and looked up.

The smile faded. He followed the others’ gazes and jumped to attention. “Sorry, Prowler!”

Nola smirked. “Hope you’re more alert than that down in the Forest.”

Prowler. Cara’s stomach squirmed at the word. “You can still call me Cara, Kegan. And Nola—really?”

Nola tried and failed to put away her smirk. “Sorry, Prowler.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “This point forward, mind on the job! You took the potion?”

A grimace replaced Nola’s smirk. “Yeah. Stealthiest Identify in the Forest, reporting for duty.”

Even after all these years, Cara’s stomach lurched just thinking about that distilled bitterness. “Thank you. I know just how awful it tastes.”

Cara took a deep breath and reminded herself she wasn’t that stupid little kid anymore. She’d traveled, explored ancient ruins, fought dangerous creatures.

Her heart twisted into a knot. She’d killed people. And now she had to lead, or more people were going to die.

Gramok had given her a few pointers and promised she’d pick it up quickly, but that promise was looking pretty damned hollow about now.

“The dungeon spawn are marshaling. We’re going to find out why, and how to stop them. Nola, you’re our eyes—you’re up front. Kegan, skirmish like only you can. We get in over our heads, you draw them off and disappear. Regroup with us if you can, head home if you can’t.”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, sir!”

Cara paused. That left only Aidan, who had the most vital job of all. “Aidan, you’re my second in command. Please, please, please tell me when I forget something important. That, and keep us all alive.”

Aidan tilted his head and stroked his hand through his long hair. “What sort of things?”

“Spells. Tactics. People. Anything, really. I trust your judgment—when you see me screwing up, tell me. Oh, and keep a Communicate spell up!”

He bowed his head. “As you wish.”

She led them down into the Forest, and Nola took the lead. The mission was deceptively simple—find out as much as they could.

It was slow going with Nola setting the pace, but better safe than sorry. This was a reconnaissance mission, not a hunt. Even so, corrupted trees soon blocked their path.

Staying hidden and working their way along the blockade, it slowly became clear that Tolabar was indeed surrounded, completely cut off. No wonder they couldn’t feel the other villages anymore.

Worryingly, there were far more corrupted trees now, packed closer together. Picking them off one at a time wasn’t an option anymore. Breaking the blockade would take a sizeable force, and then what? Nothing would stop the dryads spawning more of them.

As they approached the part of the Forest most crying out in pain, Cara’s insides clenched tight. The Forest, her Forest, her home, was screaming in agony. It was dying, and all she could do was watch.

When they found the cause, it was worse than they’d imagine. A large area stripped of all its undergrowth and full of dungeon spawn. Gorillas, snakes, spiders, wolves—hundreds of dungeon spawn of varying sizes and types gathered together, all just waiting for whatever was to come.

All except for the dryads.

They danced through the Forest, sucking the life out from the ground beneath their feet. Their every step spread the abominable death that was carving out the heart of her Forest.

Cara clenched her bow tight. They had to be stopped, somehow, but now wasn’t the time. She nodded to Nola. With her redistributed perks, Identify was worth the risk.

Nola stared intently at the dryads, naming them one by one. Airleas the Ruinous. Caylin the Noxious. Finvarra the Lost. Onora the Forlorn. Sorcha the Fallen.

Five dryads, each individually named. Wood elven names, at that. What did it mean?

Cara pushed away those thoughts. She had to stay focused. Get the information, get everyone home safe. That was her job, and she wasn’t going to fuck it up. Good work. We’re heading home.

An air of weariness hung over the group as they snuck back. Even without the dryads, that many dungeon spawn would overwhelm the Rangers. The village’s food stores were far from unlimited, and the area left in which to hunt and forage could only sustain them for so long.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Vines coiled tighter and tighter around Cara’s insides. Sooner or later, they’d have to fight a battle they couldn’t win, and nothing she did here could change that.

She mentally kicked herself for leaving Ted. That was why she’d left, wasn’t it? To make a difference?

Not to see the world like she’d always wanted to.

Thorns twisted in her gut. Tomorrow, Ted would face the Emperor alone.

Forest preserve him.

***

Tension flooded out of Ted’s body, only for pain to flare up again in his wounds. The battle was over, but that wouldn’t stop him bleeding to death. “Any chance of a heal?”

Green magic flowed into Luther’s hands and he healed Ted. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

“Right.” Guilt and pain twisted in his stomach as he looked around the plaza. Two of the twelve dwarven soldiers he’d fought beside not a minute ago lay dead on the floor, and who knew how many more throughout the rest of the town. “We lost two.”

“Aye, lad, and we’d have lost a mine-load more without your aid today.”

Ted’s teeth clenched together. Two lives, full of their own meaning and purpose, snuffed out, just like that. If he’d been quicker, smarter, better…

Why did he get to live, and not them?

That damned statue loomed overhead, staring down at him with a pristine smugness. Was it any surprise he hadn’t come home?

A hand grabbed Ted’s arm, jolting him back into the moment.

Luther stared up at him, his eyes judging. “You’re coming to the infirmary, and that’s an order.”

Ted scoffed but didn’t resist. “Don’t you have better things to do than look after my sorry ass?”

“Indeed. I have duties at the keep.”

Yeah, duties like getting blamed for saving the entire town. “Think Ardic will forgive you?”

No response.

Ted followed in grim silence, doubting that Luther knew or even cared. They’d done what had needed to be done. Whatever the consequences were, they wouldn’t regret it.

The closer they got to the keep, the more dwarves they shared the streets with. Mostly soldiers, many bleeding, hobbling, or missing limbs. Thankfully, almost none of the civilians were wounded.

A chill ran down Ted’s spine. Helmets had caused a big spike in head injuries. Were the civilians uninjured because the dungeon spawn hadn’t gotten to them, or because none had survived their wounds?

How many had died today?

He gritted his teeth. Too many.

Pushing those thoughts away, he turned his attention inward. He had perks to spend. The Fire perk point went straight into Power. The faster he could kill dungeon spawn, the better.

He hesitated a moment with his Oratory perk point. If they were going to win this, they needed to be able to trust each other. He couldn’t do that by messing about with Eloquence or Deception or Misdirection, and he certainly wasn’t a leader. Persuasion it was, then.

Perks out of the way, the dead rose in his mind again. Why? What was it all for? “Any news on the battlemages?”

After a long pause, Luther grunted. “Most survived. They left their thanks and headed deeper, in search of a wolf.”

“The Shadow of Fenrir. They’ll get more fight than they could possibly desire with that one.”

Luther raised an eyebrow. “I have heard tales of such a beast. Having seen them fight, I would not discount them so easily.”

“That almost sounded like respect.”

“Some might say ten thousand years is a long time to hold a grudge.”

Ted bit back a snarky response. That was better than he could have hoped for from a dwarf. Best to quit while he was ahead. “Who was Marshal Ortwin?”

“A dwarven general in the Age of Heroes. Fought against the Divine Empire, and died saving some orc noble or king or someone. Yesterday, I’d have called that a damned fool way to go.”

“And today?”

More silence, at least from Luther. Agonized groans and the stench of death filled the air as they approached the infirmary.

When they reached the steps up to the keep, Luther pulled Ted to a stop and recast Heal upon him. “You did good, lad. You saved a lot of lives today.”

The cold void in Ted’s stomach refused to turn away, refused to stop staring at the pile of dwarven corpses nearby. If this was the price of victory, what was the point? “It wasn’t enough.”

“Enough?” Luther snorted. “It’s never enough. But look at them.” Luther pointed to the huddle of dwarven civilians making their way out from the Keep. “They’re alive because of you.”

Ted watched them amble down the stairs. Most were very old, too frail to fight, with a few older teens and badly injured adults interspersed amongst them. All alive, still going, because of him.

“I’m alive because of you. Zelig’s alive. A whole lot of dwarves are alive because you of, dwarf-friend.”

“What’s your point?”

“That we’re with you. No matter what Ardic says, we’ll stand by you, and the wood elves.”

Ted paused, doubt tearing at his heart. “You’ll help?”

“It took us ten thousand years to drop a grudge. It’ll take us twice as long to forget an ally. Now, go, get healed. That’s an order, deputy.”

“Yes, sir.”

He watched Luther walk up the steps, pushing past the deluge of civilians leaving their shelter inside the keep, almost all too old to have held a battleaxe.

“Ted.”

If he’d left… Ted swallowed hard. If he’d left, if he’d gone home, they’d be dead.

All of them. Just… gone.

He’d saved them.

He’d made a difference.

Frieda walked up alongside him and spoke again. “Ted? We need to get that wound looked at.”

Wound? He looked down at where he was clutching his side, still bleeding. “Right.”

The cut in the robes had already repaired itself, and the blood that had soiled it had vanished. His wound would heal, but not everyone would be so lucky.

If he had Mend, he could teach it throughout the land. Mages throughout the land could cure every Injury. And one man held the key to unlocking that secret.

Ted bit at his lip. If he could make a difference, he had to try, no matter how much he longed to curl up in a corner and cry.

Frieda placed her arm around him and guided him to a wrinkled dwarf. The medic—assuming he really was a medic—grunted at Ted, lifted his robes, and tightly wound a bandage around Ted’s chest.

It hurt, but what was a little more pain?

Heavily Bleeding injury removed!

The dwarf pulled the robe back down, nodded curtly to Ted, and shoved him away. The instruction was clear—be anywhere but the infirmary.

No complaints about that. Ted fled the cries of injured dwarves and headed up to the keep. Whether Ardic liked it or not, the young lord owed him, and the wood elves needed help. Luther’s offer was generous, but it would be better to secure the lord’s approval.

Ted stopped by the portal room. There were guards there now, but none barred his way. He reached out to the portal device with his mind, and connected to the Forest, wishing that it was Tolabar on the other end instead of Erinbar.

Eloran Erinbar So’aroaska responded. The threat had only grown with time, and now Tolabar was completely cut off from the tree-song, blockaded by dungeon spawn and corrupted trees.

A knot twisted in Ted’s gut. He could teleport back, head straight for Tolabar, but then what? The dwarves, with all their heavy armor and mages, had barely pulled through. The wood elves needed allies, not just a single low-level mage.

Allies like the dwarves.

Allies… like the Divine Emperor.

Ted bit at his bottom lip. He couldn’t leave, not now, not if there was a chance he could make a difference. The world needed him. The wood elves needed him.

Cara needed him.

It was time to be the Hero. Time to save to save the world.

Time… to save his father.