The expedition traveled slowly as it made its way through the dark mist shrouded forest. Even under normal circumstances, visibility in the sea of miasma was lower than in the necropolis itself, but now it was thicker than ever. The night only made it worse, and everyone was stepping carefully. To stray from the path even a little could mean getting lost, and no one wanted to take that chance.
The ancient roadway they walked on didn’t have the same level of preservation as the necropolis. It was cracked, eroded, and half buried by the ages, but was still mostly flat, and could be followed even in the darkness. The once mighty highway was overgrown with grass and weeds, but it had not yet relented to the forested hills around it.
Still, they were careful. Ropes had been taken from the tents. The soldiers walking at the edge of the formation held them, and acted like a living fence to help keep the group together. It was an improvised method, but it worked. Any mages that still had mana had recast their light spells as well. As long as the people in front were able to stay on the path, those walking behind them would be able to follow.
The journey they were making would usually be considered ridiculous to attempt. Traveling through a mist tunnel at night was a completely unnecessary risk. Compared to their escape from the necropolis though, it was a simple affair, and there had been no words of complaint. They couldn’t stay near the city, and no one wanted to make camp where they were, so they pressed on.
The expedition had paused only briefly to load the wounded onto wagons or horses. Compared to the number dead or missing, there were relatively few. The cursed didn’t use weapons, and the simple armor worn by the soldiers was enough to protect them from most of the blows. A majority of the people who were hurt only had twisted ankles or a broken bone at the worst.
Anyone missing was presumed dead, and of those, there were over fifty. The punches, scratches, and bites from a single cursed weren’t much of a threat, but the undead had swarmed them in such great numbers that anyone who tripped or fell behind had been ripped apart before they could get up again.
Every member of the expeditionary militia had been trained. Most of them were veterans. But they had still struggled just to stay in formation. Everyone had seen at least one person get pulled out of that formation, mobbed by the cursed. Knowing that any attempts to save them would only result in their own death was little consolation.
Guilt, remorse, bitterness, and fear hung heavy over the soldiers. They didn’t march so much as plod along while they waited for a chance to rest, or for the moment when they finally reached the edge of the mist.
They were all aware that they had gotten off lucky, but morale was still low. Nobody really knew what to think, and they were still too shaken to make up their minds. Was this expedition successful or not? A successful expedition was one that came back, but they usually came back with much fewer casualties. They had been forced to retreat, so was it a failed expedition? Failed expeditions were the ones that didn’t come back though, so it couldn’t be that either. Were they heroes for surviving, or cowards who had fled?
Opinions were divided. Some blamed the priests and expedition leaders for their lack of planning. The ones who should have been prepared for this sort of thing hadn’t been, and people had died because of it. Others praised the leaders for their quick decision making. If they hadn’t acted when they did, even more would have died. If they had been too stubborn to leave, there wouldn’t be anyone alive to complain about it in the first place.
The one thing everyone agreed on was that it had been Indigo who had warned them, and Indigo who had made their escape possible. Everyone had seen her that night. Where the homunculus had walked, the cursed had fallen. Whenever the line had been about to break, she had appeared to hold them together. And no one, no one, had missed her final act of destruction that allowed them to get away.
Haylen’s platoon willfully forgot that they had been avoiding the girl the day before, and surrounded the covered wagon that carried her like they were the honor guard of the emperor himself. They were happy to spin the rumor mill as well, though there was little they could say that was more impressive than what everyone else had already seen.
Haylen walked with her platoon and put an end to any whispered arguments or gross exaggerations when she heard them. They had a long night of marching ahead of them, and couldn’t afford to be distracted. They may have been out of the necropolis, but the mist still had plenty of other dangers it could throw at them.
Of the two groups that had acted as the rearguard, hers had come out relatively unscathed. The first platoon had taken the brunt of the damage, holding back the horde while the others made their way onto the exit road. Her own second platoon had much less difficulty blocking off the other side until it had been time to pull back.
Haylen had only lost five of her men, and only another three were too injured to walk. That was better than any of the other platoons, but she couldn’t be happy about it. That was still five families she’d have to go visit. Five families that would never see a loved one again. Saying that “they gave their lives for the empire” didn’t mean much to anyone who knew those that had actually done the giving.
She looked around at her soldiers, and tried to remind herself that there were still people she could send home safely. Corlo’s armor was covered in thick layers of gore, and he looked like a specter of death itself. Kearse had dislocated a shoulder. It had been popped back into place, but it would be another day or two before he could get much use out of his right arm. Chadvid had lost his helmet at some point, and had a bloody gash above one eye. He’d need to get that cleaned before infection set in. They were fifty-six bruised, battered, and bloody soldiers, but fifty-six soldiers that were still alive.
After two hours, they took their first real break. They were now confident that they weren’t being followed, and that they were far enough away not to attract any new attention from the city.
Haylen immediately went to check on Indigo. The wagon her platoon surrounded been hastily cleared to make room for the injured homunculus, and she was still unconscious. It was probably for the best. Whatever she had done had left her more badly wounded than anyone. She looked more like one of the cursed than the cursed usually did, and if it wasn’t for the slight rise and fall of her chest, Haylen would have thought the girl was already dead.
The smell of cooked meat filled the wagon. Indigo’s entire body was covered in burns, and where her skin wasn’t cracked it was blistered. Father Gregor and the priest currently driving the wagon had had to cut her out of her clothing, and there were still places where her flesh had melted into the fabric too badly to be removed. Even her hair had been burnt off. The only part of her left unscathed were her two black horns.
Mayra and Father Gregor sat inside, doing what they could to care for her. Gregor was hunched over, and was using a pair of tweezers to pull the remaining threads from Indigo’s body. Mayra had a cloth and bucket of water, and was doing her best to keep the wounds clean. They both looked concerned.
“How is she?” Haylen asked. “Do you know what happened to her?”
Obviously the girl was doing badly, but if they knew how she had ended up like this, maybe they could find a way to help. All Haylen had been able to see at the time was a blindingly bright light, then a road that ended in a cliff, and finally a horrifically damaged Indigo.
“Mana burn,” Mayra responded without looking up. “She used too much mana too quickly. I don’t know how much mana her crystals actually hold, but I doubt that most people could handle even half as much as she did. I certainly can’t. That she’s even alive at all is amazing. Whoever created her knew what they were doing.”
“Is there anything you can do for her, Father?”
Gregor shook his head.
“She’s doing better than she was, far better. But I don’t think I can take any credit for that. We are in the mist, and beyond Arlon’s sight. All of my prayers for healing have only had the most minimal of effects. If they’ve had any at all. I think Miss Mayra is correct though. Indigo is healing so quickly I can almost see it. I just hope she doesn’t wake up soon, or she’s going to be in a lot of pain.”
Haylen spent some time helping the two of them, but the expedition was soon moving again, and she had to return to her platoon. In an effort to improve morale, she ordered anyone who still had alcohol to start passing it around. “Just a sip or two,” she told them. Enough to take the edge off, but not enough to let them get drunk. When the other officers noticed, they gave the same order to their platoons as well. Even Knight-Paladin Damfeld pulled a large bottle from his saddlebags to share with the officers and paladins. He drank none himself and Haylen knew better than to comment on it. He looked embarrassed to even have the bottle in the first place.
When the large bottle of brandy made its way to her, Haylen had to resist the urge to take a third gulp. She was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to lie down, go to sleep, and not think about the day’s events. She was an officer though, and had to keep up appearances. She needed to be seen as stable, and as a person her troops could depend on. Getting drunk was not an option.
Haylen felt that she did a good job of switching between herself as a person, and herself as a soon-to-be paladin. She could flow between the two fairly easily, and kept the two sides of herself separate. This night was more difficult than most.
At that moment, she didn’t want to have to act like an officer. She didn’t want to have to act calm when everyone knew that everyone was at their wits end. Becoming a paladin was all she had ever wanted in her life, but the hardest part about having authority was how isolating it could get. Every year, there were fewer and fewer people that she could share her troubles with. She wasn’t even a paladin yet. Just an officer in the expedition. But already she was having to hide her true feelings so they wouldn’t worry the people that needed her to be strong.
The edge of the mist was still hours away, and it couldn’t come sooner.
She looked to Corlo and felt a bit better when she saw that he was putting up a similar front. His jaw was set and determined, but his red eyes were less alert than usual, and he wasn’t walking with the same level of confidence that he normally carried himself with. He had been wearing his armor since morning, and was probably even more exhausted than she was. Anyone who didn’t know him well wouldn’t have noticed, but he was struggling as much as everyone else.
It was just before their second break when Indigo woke up. They had been planning on stopping soon, but her short burst of pained screams brought them to a halt early. Haylen ran back to the wagon, and was shocked at how much the homunculus’ condition had improved. Her skin was still blistered and cracked, but she no longer looked like a burnt corpse. The smell of charred flesh had faded, and there were no longer any scraps of cloth embedded in her skin.
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She was still obviously in a very painful condition though. Mayra was helping to prop her up while Father Gregor held a cup of water to her lips. Indigo’s face was locked in a grimace, but she drank slowly, and whimpered when she was lowered back down. Now that they didn’t have to worry about her skin scabbing to the fabric, they had wrapped her in a blanket to give her a bit of padding.
“Mana,” Indigo said. Her voice was hoarse, and her foreign accent had been replaced with pure desperation.
“Mana,” she said again. “Crystals. Mana. Heal.” She sounded delirious, but it was clear what she wanted.
Indigo’s belongings had been gathered up and placed in the wagon with her. The mask, mana crystals and guns were all sitting in the corner. Her metal balls and the barrel she kept them in had been unrecoverable of course. They were all too numerous and too scattered to be reclaimed. Mayra looked to the five crystals next to her, and her brow furrowed. None of them had even the faintest of glow, and Haylen knew they were empty.
“What about the one she gave to Verdis?” Gregor asked. “Is there any mana left in that one?”
“Barely any. If any,” Mayra responded, but she jumped out of the wagon anyway. “I’ll check.”
Gregor leaned out the back of the wagon and called for a bottle of alcohol. Any alcohol. When one was immediately handed to him, he took a quick sniff of it before lifting Indigo back up and holding it to her lips.
“Wine. Drink slowly. A few sips will help with the pain.”
Indigo groaned with every movement, but forced a few shallow swallows down her throat. When Gregor had eased her back down she chuckled at something and winced again from the pain.
“Gonna make me alcoholic,” she joked. “Need mana. Have no mana. Need mana to heal.”
She groaned again, and squeezed her eyes shut. Haylen could only imagine how much pain she was in at the moment.
“All of your crystals are empty. Mayra went to see if there is any left in the one you gave to Archmage Verdis, but there probably isn’t much.”
“Only need little. Have more in storage. Tiny bit is enough.”
Indigo was quiet after that.
It took several minutes for Mayra to return, longer than it should have taken, but she had the large crystal with her and it still held the faintest of light within itself. “I despise that man,” was all the mage offered up in explanation. Apparently the archmage had been reluctant to hand over a mana crystal of such a size.
Indigo had only briefly touched the container before its light faded completely. Then a blur formed around her hand, and when it faded she was holding two smaller rod shaped ones. The glow quickly disappeared from both of them as well.
“Thank you. I heal faster now. Less pain.”
Suddenly her eyes went wide, and she began to cry. At first Haylen thought something had gone wrong, but a large smile started to spread across Indigo’s face.
“We make it? We get out? We safe? Where now? Outside? Others alright?”
Everyone sighed in relief, and Father Gregor explained what had happened since Indigo had cast her spell. They were out of the necropolis, but still within the miasma, and it would be a few more hours before they were truly back to the world of the living. Her eyes filled with tears again and she began to laugh until a fit of coughing forced her to stop.
“I free,” she said, and allowed herself another chuckle. “Two years. Now can finally see world. Life can finally start.”
She glanced up at Father Gregor, and a mischievous smile Halyen was becoming familiar with spread across her face.
“I get salvage rights now, yes?”
Gregor frowned down at her good-naturedly, and he looked more like a bemused father than a father of the imperial church. “You don’t give up, do you?” he asked.
Indigo’s grin widened. “I very stubborn.”
“Yes. I think that’s the least we can do. You saved more than two hundred lives today. And once we spread word of this… this respawn day, you’ll have saved even more. Yes, you’ll get your permit.”
Indigo was doing much better now, and really was healing at a noticeable rate. Most of her blisters had already begun to dry and peel off. She still gave the impression of being an improperly cremated corpse, but was rapidly approaching a state that could generously be called “mostly dead.”
If Haylen had been more awake, she probably would have asked Indigo more about what she was capable of. Whether it was magecraft or the natural abilities of a homunculus, the girl most likely still had a few tricks up her sleeve. Tonight though, everyone was too tired to think, and they spent most of the down time making light conversation to distract themselves. Sentences trailed off as the speakers forgot what they were talking about, and more than a few things went unsaid because the mood was still too heavy for serious topics.
When the expedition started moving again, it was accompanied by the sounds of grumbling soldiers. Nobody had any legitimate complaints though. They all knew they couldn’t stop for long. They were just in a bad mood and needed to vent. Everyone was snappish at that point. They had been awake all day, had been decimated by the necropolis, and still had several hours of marching ahead of them that night.
Even the officers were starting to let their bad moods show. It may have been a sign of solidarity between the ranks, or it may have been that they were too tired to care, but nobody enjoyed their current situation, and as long as no fights broke out, things were allowed to remain as they were. The soldiers were justified in their misery, and their leaders weren’t about to say otherwise.
As Haylen walked, she let her mind wander to all the things she would do to burn off stress once she got back to Orlis. Or maybe even before. Most of the men under her command would probably be shocked at the visions of debauched hedonism running through their commander’s mind, but the women would understand. The men still had stronger faith in gender roles, but military females had long since cast such things aside. Most of the women she led were simple housewives in their daily lives, but out here, they were soldiers the same as anyone else. And a soldier’s needs were the same, regardless of what was between their legs.
First, Haylen decided, she would take a bath. A long one. Military ablutions weren’t nearly enough to feel properly clean. This may not have been surprising, but it was only in preparation for what came next. After making herself as pristine as she could, she would then set about redirtying herself in as many ways as possible.
The next thing she would do would be to go to an apothecary, and buy a large helping of hemp bud. Haylen didn’t own anything to smoke it with, but there were more than enough pubs that had communal water pipes open to anyone willing to share.
Once she had sufficiently clouded her mind with smoke, she would eat and drink until she puked. Then, she would continue to eat, drink, and smoke, until her inhibitions were low enough that she would jump on the first man that offered to take her home with him. Maybe he’d even have a friend. Or better yet, two.
If that failed, there was always Indigo. The homunculus seemed like the type of person who knew how to have fun, and had already failed at hiding the fact that she found her attractive. Haylen had seen the variety of toys that the girl owned. The half-elf even had a few of her own now, and she was sure that Indigo would be happy to show her how to use them in the most intimate way possible.
Despite how it chafed her ears, Haylen was glad she was wearing her helmet. It hid the aroused flush of her face that increased the more she let her mind wander. As her imagination ran wild, her simple goals of getting laid had quickly degenerated into fantasies of taking Indigo to a fancy brothel and renting the entire place for the night. She did have the money now.
Even if Indigo wasn’t a fallback in the “get laid” part of the plan, Haylen would probably bring her along. Kearse’s opinions on the girl’s sanity were obvious, but Haylen found her refreshing. Mostly. It wasn’t that Indigo actually thought that differently from everyone else. Her standards of common sense were simply more pragmatic, and the extra layers added on by everyone else were unnecessary. This matched well with a half-elf who was forced to take a different worldview by the nature of her birth.
“It’s too bad I won’t have much time to get to know her. We probably have a lot in common.”
It would take them about a week to reach Orlis. After that, Haylen would only be there for another two or three before she made the grand pilgrimage and began her travels through the empire. That could take a year or more depending on how many places she visited and how long she stayed in each one.
And there was no guarantee she would even stay in Orlis once she returned. More than a few paladins chose to leave and take up stations in a place they had fallen in love with during their journeys. Haylen liked Orlis. She had grown up there, and it had helped shape her into who she had become. But she had less reason than most to actually stay.
Family? Haylen’s mother was a prostitute who had gone months before realizing that her daughter had been sent to the orphanage. The brothel owner had been more of a mother figure than that one ever had.
Friends? Few. Perhaps Mayra. Everyone else was either a paladin or part of the church, and they would understand if she didn’t come back to stay. Corlo she would miss. Corlo was practically family to her now.
The hours passed, and Haylen’s weary mind lost what little focus she had so far retained. Good ideas and bad ideas, plans for the near and far futures. They were all half formed, and were forgotten as quickly as they came.
On the next break, she went to check on Indigo again. The girl was almost fully healed, although she had apparently used up all the mana she had been able to reclaim. Her regeneration had slowed back down to what it had first been. It was still amazingly fast, though. Indigo was still bald, but her skin had regained its usual pale color, and she was now only sore, rather than suffering.
Father Gregor had returned to the other priests, but Mayra remained and had taken over driving the wagon. The three of them continued the conversation of small words and unfinished sentences that they had started earlier.
The break ended, and the expedition continued walking. And they walked. And they walked. And then they walked some more. When Haylen heard shouting, her first instinct was that they were under attack. Then she listened to the noise, and realized they were cheers. She heard excitement and relief coming from the front of the formation.
They had reached the border. They were out. Everyone picked up speed as they rushed back into the world. They weren’t home yet, but the worst was now officially over.
Stars filled the sky, and the nearly full moon was bright. Compared to the shaded gloom of the mist, Haylen felt like she could see forever. The forest ended with the miasma, and the wide scrublands of northern Orlis were in front of her. In the summer, this place would be a dry as dust, but with the spring rains it was a vibrant sea of bushy shrubs, green cacti, desert grasses, and colorful wildflowers.
Haylen went to Indigo’s wagon, and her joyous mood was flipped on its head. The homunculus was panting heavily, and slowly writhing in the blankets that covered her. Her face was flushed, her eyes were rolled back, and there was a small stream of drool coming from the side of her mouth.
Mayra was holding one of Indigo’s hands while whispering into her ear.
“Is she okay!?” Haylen nervously asked. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?”
Mayra jumped and squeaked in surprise at Haylens sudden arrival. Her own face was flushed as well, and she averted her eyes when she answered.
“She’s… uh. She’s fine. She’ll be fine. Indigo’s just… getting her mana back.”
Mayra’s blush deepened and she pulled Haylen into the wagon. In a hushed voice, Mayra explained what was going on, and the helf-elf felt her own face reddening as she listened.
For mages or other magic users, being mana deprived was a very uncomfortable feeling. She compared it to having a full bladder, but in reverse. In truth, it happened to everyone, but only the mages could feel their own mana well enough to be aware of it.
When the expedition had left the miasma, the mages began to regain mana again. This feeling was quite pleasurable, and apparently felt like “your brain is having sex with the rest of your body.”
Indigo had not only been mana deprived for two straight years, but had started learning magic in the necropolis, so she had acclimated to the “full bladder” feeling. Now, two years of mana deprivation were being washed away, and she was being overloaded by the sensation of her body regaining mana naturally for the first time. If Mayra’s mind was giving her body a little bit of heavy petting, Indigo’s was in the middle of a full blown orgy.
Haylen’s eyes darted briefly to the now moaning homunculus. Indigo wasn’t loud, but the wagon didn’t do much to muffle sound. Hopefully anyone who walked by would mistake it for pain.
“So she’s having an… um. How long is this going to last?”
Normally the half-elf wouldn’t mince words with this sort of thing, but this was beyond what she was used to dealing with. Haylen wondered what it actually felt like, and her blush deepened.
“Well… It’s not technically that. Technically. But it’ll last until her mana finally fills back up again.” Mayra’s own eyes looked down at the quivering girl. “For her, that will probably be a while.
Indigo’s moans turned into a strange squeal, and she started to scratch at her head as her hair began to rapidly regrow. Most likely her body had finished healing everything else at that point. Once it reached ear length it stopped, and Indigo went back to her previous noises.
“How long until we make camp?” Mayra asked, still avoiding eye contact. “I don’t think we can take her out of the wagon like this.”
“Probably any minute now. And we can’t just leave her in here either.”
The two of them grimaced. This was going to be a long night.