Chi didn’t immediately return to the farmhouse. She detoured first to a nearby river to clean the blood from herself. She could have done it with magic, but this way used less mana and did a better job into the bargain.

Once more back within the farmhouse, she checked the spell preserving the bodies. It was holding thus far, but seeing them again, she wondered what her proper course of action should be. At this point, she could easily send them off with the release spell. In some ways, that might be the better course. Certainly, the easiest, and probably the least traumatizing to anyone she might find to help.

Still, she hesitated. All species had rituals for this sort of thing. All civilized species at least. Goblins and their ilk were as like to leave their dead where they lay or eat them, but—

Iktchi-Chi froze. Why were these thoughts running through her head? Why should she care how the bodies might be disposed of, or how their original souls might feel about it? With those thoughts came another. Why had she avenged them? Yes, she admitted to herself, what she’d done to the goblins could have been nothing else. She hadn’t known them, nor had they been of her kind, but she had enacted vengeance on their behalf.

Was this some sort of unconscious rejection of who she’d been? Of what she’d been? But, no, that was silly. She was still.... Or was she? She idly fingered the collar around her neck. Was she the horrible things she’d been made to do? Or was she this... this avenger of the innocent.

She closed her eyes and raised the hand not fingering the collar to cover them. Perhaps she was something else altogether. Someone else. Someone who bore a centuries long stain of bloody darkness, and who secretly desired penance. Perhaps her time on Earth had changed her more than she’d known.

She wiped moistness from her eyes with the palms of her hands and took a deep breath. There was a road, and she’d seen the remains of other farms to the north. Perhaps, if she followed in that direction, she might come across a village. And her mana was near fully restored.

Rummaging through the rubble, she found a long coat of leather and wool that looked rugged enough for her needs. Holding it at arm’s length, she closed her eyes once more and concentrated, whispering an incantation. The coat shimmered for a moment, and color flowed down from her hands, wicking through the material until the coat she held was a deep maroon with silver piping along the seams.

Opening her eyes, she nodded and returned to the mantle, laying her forehead against the cold stone. “They’re safe for now,” she whispered. “I’ll be back as soon as I can to see to them.”

Raising her head and patting the stone, she turned for the door, whispering to herself in that language she’d used to burn the drugand. As she walked, her wings drew in, and her tail. Her horns shrank into her skull. This time, though, she continued. Her skin paled, her hair writhed and shone golden. Her eyes, between blinks, shifted from orange-red lava to bright blue.

With the final, binding stanza, she shrugged the coat over her shoulders and walked through the outer gate, for all intents and purposes, a human girl of somewhere between eighteen and twenty-five years.

The first ward stone she came upon was completely inert. That was a bad sign. She examined it closely for clues as to its construction. The glyphs and markings seemed in tune with the type seven system she’d already suspected, so she started there.

The ward stone pulsed and glowed for a moment, seeming to drink in the mana she was feeding it. She smiled as she finished. Type seven it was, then, and a tricky bit of business to alter. Tricky, but not altogether difficult. Fully functional it was once more. Quite an advanced version of the type, she was happy to note. Capable of protecting the road from anything the locals might find hostile or dangerous, with the possible exception of one particular devil girl.

But now she frowned. Although someone with some significant power had initially laid it down, how had it come to be so neglected?

Thereafter, each time she came across one of the stones along the way, she renewed and altered it. All of them bore similar signs of abandonment.

She paused at the first sign of the village some five miles from the farmhouse, taking stock. There was a rough wall surrounding it, a dozen feet tall and constructed of stout logs. To her practiced eye, that wall looked no more than five or six years old, and potentially more recent. There was a gate as well. Ajar, but little more. What did that mean? She already knew there were people there. She could smell and hear them, although their movements and voices were subdued.

Squaring her shoulders, she trudged on.

“Halt!” a villager who must think himself hidden called out from atop the wall.

Chi halted, looking up and directly at him. “Yes?” she inquired in the same language.

The man was clearly startled, and very nervous. Chi could see that he was holding a stout bow and had nocked an arrow, but that he hadn’t drawn the bow. “State your purpose!” he called down.

Hmph! Not very friendly, are they? She thought. “I suppose I’m here to see your headman,” she called back.

“Headman?” he seemed confused. “Oh! You mean the mayor?”

“Sure,” she tilted her head and smiled. “The mayor.”

He was peering down at her. Trying, she supposed, to divine her relative dangerousness by sheer will. While this was going on, another, older man stuck his head around the partially opened gate, looking her over in his own stead. Once he’d satisfied himself in that regard, he looked past her along the empty road. “You’re an adventurer?” he inquired. “Those fools finally answered our request?”

She had no idea what he was talking about, but didn’t imagine he would be as likely as the dire wolf to catch her in a lie, so she nodded. “Sure. An adventurer, that’s me. Ik— Chi is my name. Level fifty-six red mage, at your service.” she finished with a polite bow.

“Level?” he wondered. “D’you mean rank fifty-six?”

“Oh,” she ducked her head a bit. “Yes, of course. Rank fifty-six.

He whistled. “I didn’t realize there was anybody high as rank fifty left this side of the Sessik plain.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

She didn’t know how to answer that, so she remained silent. On that point, at least. “Listen, ah...”

“Oh,” the man slapped his forehead and approached. “Longhan. Marbry Longhan. I’m the mayor of Tumblebrook village,” he held out his hand.

Chi took it, familiar with the gesture from her time on Earth.

“You see, Mister— Mayor Longhan,” she told him. “Those fools didn’t send me.”

“No?” he stiffened, and fear washed over his face.

“No, no, no!” she hastened, waving both hands before her. “It’s not like that! I’m just traveling from... elsewhere... and happened across a... a farm that had been attacked by goblins.”

The mayor’s hand went to his chest. “Oh, no,” he whispered. “Man, woman, three children?”

Chi nodded. “Yes, that’s correct.”

He was shaking now, and his voice was unsteady. “Varn and Illie Sosk and their kids.” He paused, struggling to go on. “We... we tried to get them to come in when those... when the trouble started, but he refused to leave. He’d built that whole place with his own hands, he said, and he wasn’t going to give it up. The fool.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “It loved him very much.”

“What?” his eyes went round.

“Hmm?” her hand went to her mouth. “Nothing. I’m afraid that there wasn’t anything I could do to save them. I only happened along well after the attack had occurred. Days. And the goblins and the thing that led them were long gone.”

“I see,” he said. “Thank you for coming in to let us know, I guess.”

“You misunderstand,” she shook her head. “I came here because I’m from a very long way away, and I don’t know your customs. I’m unsure of what sorts of rituals are required to put them to rest.”

He stood, dumbstruck, just staring. “How...?” he shook his head. “I mean, of course. We should have checked when they hadn’t been in for... I’m sorry, I’m a little....”

“It’s alright,” she said consolingly. “Is there, perhaps someone I could hire to set them to rest?”

His head tilted and his eyes narrowed. “Hire? Why would you...?”

Chi took a deep breath. Here it came. “I’ve been without a home for a very long time,” she admitted. “And have decided that I want to stay here for awhile. I’ve found myself quite taken with the farm. And since I’ll be living there, I thought that I should assume responsibility. As a matter of gratitude and respect.

He shook his head. “That’s... I mean... Alright, granted you’re rank fifty, but from what I’ve heard, that’s quite a mob of goblins, and a drugand besides. What if they come back and catch you unaware?”

“That won’t be a problem,” she said softly, a hard set to her mouth. “I paid them a visit before I came here.”

He gasped. “A visit?”

She dipped into her belt pouch and brought forth the bloodstones of the goblins and the large chunk of hermatite from the larger creature which she now knew to be a drugand.

The mayor drew in a deep, gasping breath and his whole body relaxed. “If only you knew how long those things’ve been....”

“I can guess,” she told him. “I saw some of their other handiwork as I was searching. Now, about—”

“Please,” he interrupted. “Please, welcome to Tumblebrook! Do come inside. We can make arrangements there. And don’t worry about any payment.”

She was about to demur when the magic words flowed from his lips. “—be famished. Come, please, my wife’s got dinner on the table”

Her hand shot to her mouth lest the drool be seen. Cooked food? Try and stop me, human!

“Are you open to quests?” the mayor asked some time later as he poured another helping of thick stew into the bowl Chi was rapidly emptying. “Granted, the goblins were an immediate danger, but... well, you see... our wards have—”

Chi snorted around a mouthful of stew. “Your wards are garbage!” she laughed as soon as she could swallow. “When was the last time they were freshened? Were you even born yet?”

He grunted, embarrassed. “So you’d noticed?”

“Did more than that,” she smiled as she shoveled another spoonful into her mouth. “I’ve already renewed everything between here and —– er, Varn and Illie’s farm.”

He raised an eyebrow, and a small smile crept onto his face. “And would you be willing to finish the task?”

She paused in her current task for a moment and looked up at him. “I’m kind of hurt you’d think to ask,” she told him solemnly. “I wouldn’t have started,” she went on even as his face fell, “if I hadn’t meant to finish. But Varn and Illie and their children are waiting. Can we see to them first? I made a promise.”

He sighed and nodded his head. “Of course,” he wheezed.

Eight of them made their way back to the farm an hour or so later. Chi, the mayor and his wife, the local priest, two townsmen with shovels, a carpenter and his apprentice. The latter two led a wagon loaded with rough hewn lumber and tools. It was late afternoon by the time they arrived.

“I must warn you,” Chi told them as they neared the house. “Goblins leave upsetting corpses, and they’d been gone a week before I found the bodies.”

Everyone but the priest gulped uncomfortably, and the mayor and his villagers stumbled to a halt. Chi could see from the set of their features that they’d understood her warning. And by that, she decided that they’d probably seen the remains the other attacks had left.

“I can release them—”

“No!” the priest forestalled her offer. “They will be laid to rest as Jehsha commands.”

“Where would you like the graves?” the mayor asked, having come to terms with Chi’s having taken ownership of the farm.

“Wherever you see fit,” she said. “As I said, I’m from very far away, and I’ll bow to your customs.”

He nodded and led his two helpers towards the far side of the barn to begin digging the graves. The carpenter and his apprentice headed for the barn to perform their part of the ritual.

The priest hadn’t paused, and didn’t now. He marched into the house with shoulders square. “This was you?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been as he indicated the ice encasing the still forms.

Chi shrugged. “As I said,” she told him. “They’d lain here a week before I found them. I... I didn’t want....” for some reason, she couldn’t quite hold her voice steady, or continue to be as blasé as she’d been letting on.

“Thank you,” he bowed his head.

It was full dark, nearing midnight, before the carpenters had finished the rough coffins. Only two of them. The youngest child would share one with her mother and father, and the older two would be laid down together.

The bodies, draped in sackcloth from the barn to shelter their bearers some pain, were laid into the coffins after they’d been lowered into the graves. Once they were occupied, the carpenter lowered himself into the graves one by one, nailing the covers down.

The priest performed his rituals, the villagers taking their parts where specified. Only Chi remained silent.

Dawn was pearling the sky by the time the last shovelful of dirt was laid atop the last grave. The mayor would send markers out with the workmen he’d send to see to the animal carcasses and other damage later in the day.

Chi had kindled a fire in the hearth and warmed the food brought along by the mayor’s wife. Everyone was stumbling tired, but none would stay in this place of loss. They ate outside on planks laid over the carpenter’s sawhorses. They drank water they’d brought along in a small tun, since Chi had warned them about the well.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright here alone?” the mayor asked, holding her hand in both of his own.

Chi smiled, noting the hint of fear in his voice. She had a feeling he was more worried about traveling safely back to town without a strong adventurer than about her comfort. “You’ll be fine, Mister Mayor,” she chided. “I promise you, the ward stones are as powerful as the day they were set down.”

He flushed with embarrassment, but nodded. “And you’re sure you’ll be able to sleep in there?” he asked. “Given the horror that’s occurred there?”

She hid her grin. He had no clue the horrors she’d slept amidst. But she patted his hands where they covered hers. “Today,” she winked, “I’ll sleep in the barn. But the house has welcomed me, and I’ve avenged its former occupants, so I think that, once I clean it up, I’ll be fine.”

She remained in place and waved as the villagers took their leave, watching them out of sight before dashing to the barn and flinging her coat away to collapse atop a pile of hay in the corner, quaking wildly. Her human form sloughed away like blood beneath a faucet. Within less than a minute, she lay in her true form, grateful the goblins had missed this bit of clean hay.

That had been a near thing! Another ten minutes and the glamour would have collapsed on its own, and wouldn’t that have been a mess?