As we moved further and further away from the deserted village, the vines blocking our path began to thin. As they faded, we found ourselves in an area of towering crimson trees. Bright red leaves dripped with a dark, rotten smelling liquid that pooled around the roots. The crimson pools created a swamp, and a new obstacle for our caravan.
We did not have to cut our path forward anymore, but the foul-smelling swamp sunk wagons and horses in deep mud. We did our best to avoid the deep red pools and keep our wagons to firmer ground, but it was a slow and laborious trudge forward.
We stopped at midday in a clearing full of dark purple grass I had no doubt was poisonous in some way. This was not our first stop. The horses had to rest, eat, and drink from the barrels of fresh water stored in the wagons the soldiers prepared. Normally the soldiers also enjoyed these small moments of rest where they could shake off the exhaustion from travel, but a few of the soldiers had gotten into an argument over who got the spare glyphs my father drew. Everyone wanted the safety they provided, but there was never enough for everyone.
Ignoring the soldiers, Charly was curiously poking one of the blood red pools with a stick “What is this stuff?” The disturbed liquid bubbled and the figures of deformed faces reflected back at Charly. He stumbled backwards, dropping the stick into the murky depths.
“Liquified blood mist,” I replied with disinterest as a stared into the depths of the forest, “So long as your protection glyph is active it cannot hurt you any more than the mist can. Though, I would not recommend jumping in. It will drain the glyph’s energy faster than the normal mist.”
Charly kept his distance from the crimson pool, eyeing the faces reflecting back at him with suspicion. “What are you looking for anyway? Ever since we left the thorns you seem distracted.”
I kept my eyes peeled on the forest. I spoke without turning to face to him, “Pools like this should only form when there are large numbers of Demonkin in a small area. For most of them, this is their favorite habitat. Yet, the only Demonkin we have seen after three days of travel was the one vine snake in the village.”
“You think they are out there, watching us?” Charly asked, peering into the forest with his eye wide.
“No, and that is the problem. Demonkin are not intelligent. They are barely more than beasts. Without a Demon leading them they should follow their bestial instincts and occupy this territory, and yet there is not a single sign of one nearby. No markings on the trees. No footprints in the mud. No howls in the distance. There is nothing.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“If the Demonkin are not here, there must be something else nearby that interests them more, or…” I cut myself off, not wanting to continue that thought. “Either way it is bad news for us.”
“What catches a Demonkin’s interest more than their bestial instincts?”
“People…” I replied simply, causing Charly to shiver, “Did you get a look at Orias’s map? Were there any cities or fortifications nearby?”
Charly shook his head. “I don’t remember. I only got a glance at it once.”
Driven by curiosity, I ran over to Orias to ask him personally. He was sitting on the back of a wagon, nibbling on a ration that looked more like dirt than food.
“What do you want kid? You know I am not supposed to talk to you unless your parents are around,” Orias said, giving a sidelong glance towards our wagon.
“Are there any major fortifications nearby? Any places an army could dig in and defend against large numbers of Demonkin?”
Orias paused for a moment before reaching into a nearby pack. He pulled out a think piece of folded paper. Straitening the creases, he unfolded the map and showed it to me.
“There are two major locations nearby. The city of Téves about a day’s travel north of here, and the ruins of Nebula Tower to the west. We are currently heading to Téves. So long as there are no major problems, we will get there before nightfall tomorrow.”
“We are near Nebula Tower?” I remarked in surprise. “Is it still intact?”
“Partially, but because of its location, it has not been manned by a large force in decades. Who knows why the Undead Queen built that monstrosity in the middle of nowhere? Based on rumors I heard, it was not made for living soldiers. It is said it once contained hundreds of thousands of undead.”
“How far is it to Nebula Tower?”
“Maybe half a day. If we do not take any more breaks, we might be able to get there before nightfall, but it is in the opposite direction of where our soldiers last reported their location. I would rather not waste time and supplies traveling to a ruin.”
I looked carefully at the map, examining the surrounding areas. Both the city and the tower were close enough to draw the attention of Demonkin if survivors decided to make a stand.
“If you were leading an army nearby, and saw the mist approaching, which location would you fortify yourself in?” I asked curiously.
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“Téves,” Orias replied without hesitation, “The city would have supplies and food to feed an army though a siege. With the riots and Demonkin outbreak, the city’s defenses should have been weakened. It would be easy to capture so long as there were not too many Demonkin. Meanwhile, Nebula Tower usually only stationed a hundred at most to defend the ruin. Supplies would be limited, and forts manned by trained soldiers would not fall into the same chaos as the cities.”
I agreed with Orias’s assessment. If we wanted to find survivors and information about the missing troops the city was the best location, but it still felt like I was missing something. My instincts screamed that we should go to Nebula Tower, but I could not explain why.
Normally, I would send Sylvie ahead to scout which location was better, but flying in the mist with low visibility would be incredibly dangerous for her. I did not want to risk the little bird for a bad feeling.
“You are a rather strange child,” Orias commented while I studied the map, “Even when we were under attack, you never once panicked. Even my soldiers have trouble staying calm in this horrible place, but you have never once lost your composure.”
“I am just better at hiding it,” I replied with a small smile.
“Regardless, I want to thank you for saving Joseph yesterday. He will not say it himself since you cut off his arm, but you saved his life.”
“I just acted first. There is no reason to thank me,” I replied with a shrug.
“Still, it is impressive. You are so tiny, and yet you managed to cut through both Joseph’s arm, and one of the thickest parts of the steel armor he wore.”
I looked up from the map to see Orias looking at me as if he was examining a treasure. I could see the greed in his eyes as they lingered on the dagger at my waist. Without asking for permission, he reached for the dagger.
I slapped away his hand and hopped off the wagon. with a cold glare I practically growled at the man when I spoke, “What do you think you are doing?”
Orias looked down at his hand and blinked a few times. “I… I don’t know.”
He looked genuinely confused as he glanced to me and then the dagger and back to me. I took another step away from him, and placed my hand on the dagger. My thumb rested right above the crystal, ready to activate it at a moment’s notice.
The confusion on his face disappeared as his gaze locked onto the dagger again. “I have heard legends. Many centuries ago, there were weapons capable of amazing feats. Weapons that could cut through steel or crackle with electricity. Why do you have weapons like that? Why don’t I? Something like that is wasted in your hands.”
“Maybe it is,” I said slowly, “But if you want to steal what is mine, you better be ready for a fight.”
“Steal? Why? I…” Orias clutched at his head as the look of confusion returned.
Something was wrong with Orias. I quickly glanced around for anyone or anything suspicious while keeping one eye on him, but nothing stood out to me. Nobody seemed to be using an innate talent and I could not see any creature through the mist that could cause this.
Suddenly, there was a shout behind me. Two of the soldiers arguing nearby became violent. Punches were thrown and one soldier tackled the other. The two rolled in the mud shouting and throwing punches without a care for military discipline.
“What do you two think you are doing?” Orias roared, completely forgetting about me and the dagger. He marched over to the two brawling soldiers and separated them forcibly.
The two soldiers seemed to come to their senses suddenly and looked embarrassed about the sudden fight. They did not even seem to remember why they were fighting.
“Everyone, pack up!” Orias shouted after seeing their strange reactions, “Something is wrong with this place. We are moving out immediately.”
“What’s the problem captain? The horses still need to rest, and so do we.” A soldier, I recognized as Istvan, shouted.
“Just follow orders.”
“Your orders?” Istvan remarked, “What give you the right to order us around?”
“You have a problem soldier?” Orias growled.
“I do!” Istvan shouted. The ring of steel echoed through the clearing as he drew his blade. “I have wanted to say this for a long time. You are not worthy of commanding me. I am Avari nobility. I should be the one giving the orders! Not a foreign traitor like you!”
Orias swelled in size as he activated his innate talent. “Stand down soldier. This is your only warning.”
“No! I am done listening to you!”
Istvan stepped forward, swinging his blade at Orias. His eye glowed with a dark yellow light.
Unable to dodge in time, Orias blocked the sword with his massive arm. The steel edge barely broke the skin, but when Istvan’s innate talent activated, a large chunk of Orias’s arm exploded into tiny pieces.
Blood splashed to the ground as Orias roared furiously. His giant foot slammed into Istvan like sledge hammer, sending the soldier flying through the air. Istvan came to a sudden stop when he slammed into a tree. Broken and unmoving, he splashed into the depths of one of the blood pools at the base of the tree.
“Anyone else have a problem with my command?” Orias bellowed at the nearby soldiers.
A few soldiers held their ground, looking like they wanted to say something, but when the vast majority of the soldiers took a step back, they did as well.
“Good. Then pack up. We are leaving now!”
There was a short delay, but the soldiers saluted and hurried back to their horses. Orias began to shrink back to his normal size. He clutched his arm and cursed. It looked as if someone had taken a giant bite out of his arm. The wound was deep enough to see bone.
“You- you need treatment, or you might lose the arm,” Charly spoke hesitantly.
“I know,” Orias growled, “Get me the medical supplies and help me out. It does not need to be perfect. I just need it to not get infected till this mission is over and I can find someone with a healing talent.”
Charly nodded and ran to one of the nearby wagons. He was able to quickly gather everything Orias needed, and bring it back.
“W- we have to stop the bleeding first,” Charly said.
“Use a fire glyph. Burn the wound.”
“That’s not…”
“Just do it!” Orias shouted. He bit down on a rag as Charly drew on a small piece of paper. A few seconds later, the smell of charred flesh filled the clearing. Orias grunted in pain. I could see beads of sweat pouring down his brow, but he did not scream. Charly then applied medicine and bandages to the wound before Orias pushed him away without a word of thanks.
Nearby, a couple soldiers had pulled Istvan out of the blood pool. He was not dead, but he was not moving either.
I instantly noticed that the faint blue light that protected him from the mist was completely gone. A soldier hastily applied a new protection glyph to him, but I knew it was too late. Even normal exposure to the mist was enough to infect you, let alone the extremely concentrated pools.
The soldiers loaded the unconscious Istvan to a nearby wagon. I saw him coughing up crimson liquid, as he moaned in pain.
Orias shook his head with a sigh. “What was that fool thinking?”
I made sure to stay out of his line of sight as the soldiers loaded up. Orias may have ignored his own strange behavior, but I did not.
An ominous dread welled up within me. Someone or something was turning us against each other.