They led him around the back of one of the houses. A small shed sat at the back of one house but it was in poor conditions, the simple clay shingles falling off and the single door to it falling off its hinges.

He heard Laell give a gasp at the sight inside. There a frail body lay in a puddle of filth mixed with some strange green liquid that glowed faintly. The body barely had any clothes on, the existing tunic torn to reveal ashen flesh. The face of the body was turned to the door so he could clearly see the upper part of the face was encrusted with a green gemstone like material.

With the lower part of the face and the filth-covered hair, Camaz could just barely recognize Aris.

At first darkness surrounded his mind. But then he saw her draw breath, her chest rising and falling ever so slightly, ever so slowly. The world tilted.

Calmly, ever so calmly, he turned and grasped Delnnir’s solute in his mind. The bandit stiffened and froze. Barely any of his men seemed to notice any change. “Who did this to her?” Camaz asked.

A few of Delnnir’s men chuckled, but quickly sobered as they saw their leader break out in sweat. “Yscians…” he gasped. “Damn blue savages…”

“Chief, what are you doing?” one of his men hissed at him. Camaz savagely held on tighter over his solute. Delnnir gave a tortured moan.

“Did you touch her?”

“Fuckin’ rock… eyes,” Delnnir sputtered out. “Screaming… Locking her up…”

“I asked you if you touched her,” Camaz said angrily.

“Fucking mind benders!” one of Delnnir’s smarter men shrieked. There was a clamor of confusion and one of the men decided to take a swing at them. Verne drew his weapon to defend them, but Camaz took their attacker’s solute as well and squeezed, pouring everything he felt into it.

Maybe they didn’t do anything to her, but they left her in this hut in her own filth like a fucking animal. Camaz squeezed the attacker’s solute again and watched as the man turned his sword into himself.

You always were sick in the head, Moulu sneered in his head. Camaz almost sobbed at feeling the man’s solute flicker out. Panting, he turned back to Delnnir.

“Tell me who did this to her.”

Verne moved to protect them, parrying some half-hearted attempts at attacks. It seemed like seeing Delnnir in his enthralled state was enough to deter his men.

“Who did this?” Camaz demanded again, squeezing the answers out.

“Blue… savages…,” Delnnir groaned.

“How could you just leave her like this?” Camaz said. “Why didn’t you look for a healer? Why didn’t you help her?”

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There were too many questions for the enthralled man to answer, of course. Honestly, Camaz didn’t care for an answer. His mind swirled like a maelstrom, trying to think of the worst way to hurt, to torture, to punish. His solute rejoiced at him using his ability. This was what he was made for. He whispered terrible things to the man’s solute and sent him out.

“Don’t watch,” he told Laell and Verne. They both paled and obeyed him. Camaz wasn’t sure if it was out of fear. The enthralled bandit then proceeded to kill himself in the most grotesque way possible, witnessed by the majority of his men. His screams drove away all of them, giving out the clear message the mind bender would give them the same fate if they stayed. Camaz watched it play out, feeling his face grow numb, coaxing his mind to blank along with the feeling of Delnnir’s solute fading away.

His legs shook as he returned to his students. Camaz couldn’t meet either of their eyes, lest they see the secret he always tried to keep hidden. His heart shook with joy being able to lead people to their death. It made him feel both ecstatic happiness and nauseating self loathing at the exact same time.

Moulu was right all this time. He was sick in the head.

It took him long moments before he could bear to think about what to do next. The shock of recognizing Aris took away the attention from the disgusting smells coming from her - smells that leaked out of the open door and reached him outside the shed. He went inside, bearing the smell, to inspect his ward.

To his surprise Verne followed him. “She’s still alive,” the young man said. “But I’m afraid she may be on the brink of dying.”

“What in Part’s name happened to you?” Camaz muttered, tentatively touching the strange green rock growing on her face. Upon closer inspection, he found that they were in her eye sockets. Some sort of green mineral replaced her eyes and spilled out onto the top part of her face. “Not even a healer would know what to do with you.”

The only thing Camaz could think of was to remove Aris from the situation and perhaps raid the houses for anything they could use. He picked out anything that could be used as a rag and anything resembling a change of clothes. It seemed like Delnnir’s men had long scoured the place for usable items so there were slim pickings.

“Sir,” Laell called out. She had gone to scrounge up supplies, visibly relieved that she didn’t need to stay with the filth-covered Aris. She huffed as she dragged out a cart that had a makeshift fabric covering over the main body. It may have been used to transport firewood, the covering used to keep it dry. It was the right length so that Aris could lie down on it, small enough for one person to pull although ideally it would be hitched to a horse.

It was the best option to carry a filth covered, unconscious woman to a healer. Plus, they couldn’t afford to stay there in case the bandits wanted revenge or for the Yscians to find them.

So Camaz, along with his two exhausted students, packed what they could find and hauled a half-dead Aris onto the cart. Verne volunteered to pull the cart and they set off westward, in what Camaz hoped was a direction of a village.

At some point they had an unspoken agreement to collaborate on cleaning Aris and that impropriety was beyond them at this point. They couldn’t let her continue on like that. Camaz did most of the cleaning and Laell helped dress her in fresh clothes while Verne cleaned off the cart. They disposed of the soiled rags and finally Aris was looking more… normal.

“I’m sorry,” Camaz said that night as they made camp. He realized then he asked a lot of his students. Dori and Raka were right to leave. Laell glanced at him, indicating she heard his apology but made no reply and almost promptly fell asleep. She had curled up against a tree trunk for the night. “Thank you for staying with me.”

Verne managed to stave off sleep a little better. “I suppose you’ll give us a glowing review when we return,” he said, yawning.

“I’ll write anything you want me to,” Camaz said. “I can promise that much.”

“Then perhaps this trip will be worth it after all.”