3
Beyond the Shore
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James had forgotten about the unsteadiness of sailing, which made his return to the ship all the more unstable. He grasped the railings tightly as Liam looked at him strangely. They were currently on the quarterdeck, near the steering wheel. In fact, Liam was the one steering Frostbite since Dimitri had proclaimed him to be the best wheelman in all of Valenfrost.
“Are you doing alright?” Liam asked, raising an eyebrow at James. The young man nodded in response, steadying himself as he took a deep breath.
“I’m fine… Just a little seasick,” James responded. He clenched his fist, forcing the urge to vomit down. It was harder than he expected since he had to keep down that stale food he had eaten from that tavern back in Vindis.
“Ah… First time at sea in months, aye?” The wheelman prodded.
“You can say that,” James muttered.
“I feel ya. I myself am feeling a little uneasy steering this beauty of a brig.” Liam tapped on the wooden wheel, keeping it steady.
“Oi, wheelman,” Helen called as she approached the two, dragging Haggard behind her.
‘I swear it feels like she’s forcing Haggard along instead of the other way around,’ James thought as the ex-marauder arrived at the wheel’s side.
“I need you to turn this brig southeast,” Helen started. She then said some other terms James didn’t recognize. He watched as she pointed to the map she held with her left hand. Liam nodded, listening intently as James stood awkwardly nearby. The ginger man returned to his wheel, turning it as Helen watched her compass.
“I’ll leave you two to your navigation,” James said as he tried to walk off, his hands gripping the railing for balance.
The young man somehow made it to the main deck, his legs shaking slightly as he walked across it without the help of railings. He watched other members of the crew working around him, some checking the sails as others sat around talking. He then heard Helen shout out from the quarterdeck, most of the crew moving to fulfill her order as Dimitri joined in on her yelling.
“Quick! Shift the sails! Catch the wind!” He shouted, rushing the men. James had to avoid bumping into them as they moved, making sure not to hinder their work. He was fascinated at the speed of their work, watching as the sails billowed and flapped, turning to catch the wind as the deck underneath his feet shifted slightly, almost making the young man stumble. He saw Dahlia ahead, right next to the bow, sitting on a crate as she scribbled on her small journal, something she had been doing for a while now.
“What’re you writing?” James asked once he reached the shaman. Dahlia perked up, closing her journal as James approached.
“Just something,” Dahlia explained briefly before she raised an eyebrow. “Maintaining your balance, I see… You’ve gotten used to it quickly,” the shaman pointed out as James walked steadily to a crate nearby before he sat on it. He still clutched onto the sides of his seat since he didn’t trust the ship to stay so steady.
“What can I say? I’m a fast learner.” James grinned back. An awkward silence soon came over them both, the sound of waves crashing being the only sound.
“James, are you sure you’re ready?” Dahlia asked suddenly.
James blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Ready to face that thing again,” Dahlia explained. There was now a heavy air around them, with James mulling over his next answer.
“I’m not really sure,” James muttered. He glanced at the rest of the ship, watching the mercenaries do their own thing. Archibald was cleaning his rapier, examining its reflection with a grin. Edmund was sitting by the mast, watching the crew work. Bjorn was napping or passed out; James wasn’t sure. Miles, The Follower of Chaos, as he called himself, was standing next to Edmund, staring out into the sea as he leaned against the mainmast.
“With the guys we hired, we’ll stand a better chance,” James said. He hesitated a little, something deep inside nagging at him. “But I’m afraid of getting more people killed. Even if they signed up for it.” James recalled back to Yorktown’s siege, how he had watched that guard, Thomas, die before him. Watching as oily blood stained the cobbles below him. James involuntarily shuddered. He didn’t want to go through that experience again.
Dahlia gave him a worried look. “I can understand that, but you must realize that this needs to be done,” she said. “Do you really want more people to suffer the same fate as that thing’s victims? I’ve seen the bodies of Erik Catcher and his family. I saw what it did to them.” She had a determined look on her face, something that surprised James. The shaman had originally not wanted to go on this mission, but something about that had changed.
“There will always be that danger, and some people probably will die, but that’s a risk we have to take.” Dahlia murmured. “We cannot allow it to keep living, James.”
“I understand.” James sighed, nodding.
Dahlia smiled, despite the clear worry that flashed in her eyes. “Good, ’cause you’re not the only one who worries for everyone. I am the only healer here, remember?”
James returned a weak smile before hearing Dimitri call out to his crew.
“Norman! Start us off with a song, will you?”
Norman, a dirty-looking man working the sails, turned his head to the rest of the crew.
“All right! Follow my lead!” He grinned before he started to sing.
“Gliding through the waves!” he sang, his voice crisp and beautiful as he worked the ropes.
“Steady goes the ship!” another voice rang out. Then the rest of the crew joined in, some humming out loud.
“Salt is in the air!”
“Sail to distant shores!”
Then, all the crew shouted out at once. “Hah!”
“Billowing are the sails!”
“Waters as far as one sees!”
“Rum is in our blood!”
“Sail to distant shores!”
“Hah!”
“Wind is cold and fresh!”
“Deck as clean as can be!”
“Drunk, as one can see!”
The crew then laughed before Norman continued.
“Sail to distant shores!”
“Hah!”
The crew repeated the song, singing all together as they worked. James watched in fascination, even singing along for a few verses once he figured them out. They continued singing all the way through their trip.
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The first two islands weren’t as far apart as James initially thought, only a few kilometers apart. He examined both, which seemed to have a forest of their own, with one even having a small, unimpressive mountain like Yorktown. He collapsed the spotting glass Helen had given him, handing it back to the navigator as he scratched at his beard.
“Not much, are they?” Helen asked, looking through her spotting glass once more.
“Much smaller than I would’ve thought,” James agreed. Each island was around half the size of the one that Yorktown was built on. “At least we’ll have little ground to cover. Make our job a little easier. Is everyone ready?” James turned to Seamus, who shook his head as he stepped onto the surface deck.
“Might need to give them a little more time. Archibald said something about dwarves and pissed off Bjorn. He then called him an elvish insult that I’d rather not repeat and that started a chain reaction of bickering down there,” Seamus revealed in a tired voice.
James let out a breath of frustration as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll see what I can do,” he responded before he started his way to the hatch. “Stay with Haggard and Helen,” he instructed as he passed Seamus.
Once James entered the below decks, he was met with a thrown tankard. Faust quickly forced his body to react, his head dodging the flying object by millimeters. It was so fast that James couldn’t help but curse aloud.
“What the fuck?!” He exclaimed, catching the attention of almost everyone ahead. They were all crowded around the map table, some surprised at James’ sudden outburst. James was just as surprised as they were, his eyes noticing how Bjorn’s hand was halfway formed into a charged fist. Archibald was the sole target, judging from his drawn rapier. James forgot about the thrown tankard, sighing as he shook his head.
“Can everyone please focus and put your weapons away?” James asked sternly, noticing how one man in green reached for another tankard. “Flying objects, too,” James added, shooting down any bold ideas.
After some hushed bickering and side comments, James got everyone around the map table hushed and behaved.
“Alright, everyone is here. Except for…” The young man turned to Dahlia, who was currently doing something at her quarters, which consisted of an open area with her small bedroll and rucksack.
“Hey!” James called. “Shamans included.”
He watched as Dahlia groaned. She finished whatever she was working on and put it into her belt’s pouches. The shaman soon arrived at the map table, standing on the opposite side of James.
James looked down at the map, which displayed the southeastern part of Valenfrost, according to Seamus. Most of the map looked unfinished as if someone had given up halfway through making it. Still, James only cared for the islands marked with red ink.
“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do.” James leaned in, tapping two of the smallest islands on the plain table. “We’ll be splitting up into two teams, each covering an island each.” He placed his finger on the bigger island, the one with the small mountain. “Team one will cover this island. The team will comprise me, Archibald, Edmund, and…” James blinked, looking at the two men in green to his left. He didn’t even know their names.
‘Did they ever even speak?’
James wondered but decided that now probably wasn’t the time to question it.
“Sorry if I sound like an asshole, but what are your names?” James asked finally after some awkward seconds had passed. One man seemed to hold back a laugh as he glanced at James. He gestured towards himself and his companion, who seemed to be a little shorter.
“My name is Finn, his name is Brant.” he introduced.
“Noted.” James did his best with a friendly smile; all the while, he was doing his best to associate the names with the faces.
‘Finn, blond and broad. Brant, dark hair and short. Got it.’
He turned to the map, recalling what he was saying. “All right, the first team will comprise me, Archibald, Edmund, and Brant. The second team will comprise Dahlia, Bjorn, Miles, and Finn. Team two will take on the southern island.” James tapped on the second island. He had to admit, his gut was tying itself into knots, his fingers slightly shaking as he tapped on the map. James clenched his fist, pulling his hand back as he looked at everyone around the table. They all stared back, expectant eyes on him.
‘There’s a chance some of these people will die…’
James reminded himself. The memory of Thomas’ death replayed itself in James’ head again, reminding the young man of the danger and reality of this world.
‘Not unless you do something about it…’ Faust suddenly spoke. ‘You couldn’t do anything back then. It was out of your hands. However, these people will rely on you and Dahlia for guidance. Take that as you will.’
James nodded to himself, meeting the gazes of the people whose lives were in his hands.
“Alright, Frostbite is equipped with three rowboats. Each team will take one and be dropped off at their assigned island,” James explained before the shaman stepped in.
“Remember, everyone, the potential threat of our target is high. There’s a chance that the creature won’t be as strong as the one James and I faced. There’s even the chance that we won’t find anything. Still, suppose this… thing is as dangerous as last time. In that case, we’ll be dealing with a creature that can survive severe punishment, including that of a Fireball,” Dahlia explained. James could hear some men curse under their breaths, Edmund’s reaction being the loudest.
“You said it took on a Fireball? Like an actual, honest to the gods, rank three spell?” Edmund asked for clarification.
Dahlia nodded. “Despite its tough resistance, the creature we faced seemed to have notable weak spots. It did finally fall after James had destroyed its head. So we will have to do the same if we come across anything like it,” she explained, the men around the table nodding.
James butted in, “We will also have to burn its body once it’s dead. As well as any of its victims. In fact, anything that’s crystallized and blackened must be burned as soon as possible. There’s no telling what kind of black magic it is, but I’m not keen on finding out.” James examined all the expressions on the table. It was a mixture of grim acceptance, fear, and even excitement. “Alright, the briefing is over. Let’s get to work. We have a long day ahead of us…”
Everyone shared a mixed bag of agreements, heading to the hatch as Dahlia and James stayed behind to finish gearing up. Dahlia looked over at James, walking up to him as he adjusted a round shield to his back, the same one he had stolen from Havor.
“You have a distinct air about you when giving orders. Were you a commander or something back on Earth?” She asked coyly. James shrugged tiredly as he grabbed his helmet, a gift from Dahlia, who had apparently gotten it from that dwarf blacksmith in Nathan’s shop.
“Must be Faust. I’ve been exposed to many of his older memories as a Centurion lately.” James recalled his vision from back when they had left Yorktown, which had shown him Faust during his time in Cyrus’ Legion and Faust’s battle with the knight. The experience had influenced him, but it wasn’t the real reason he was so used to planning and organizing.
‘Why didn’t you tell her the actual truth?’ Faust asked as they made their way to the surface deck.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
‘Because trying to explain the countless hours of World of WarCraft to someone who has no inkling of an idea of what technology is… Well… It’s not feasible. You should know since you still can’t even grasp the idea, even after countless hours of looking through my memories,’ James explained.
Faust seemed to pause for a moment before finally answering. ‘Fair point…’
“Hold up first.” Dahlia suddenly stopped, nearly causing James to bump into her. “I almost forgot,” she murmured, reaching into a leather pouch she had slung. James watched as she pulled out a few rough gray stones with a flat polished surface that reflected like smooth glass.
“Runes?” James asked while he examined the faint purple rune inscribed onto it.
“They’re all inscribed with Night Spray. I’ll tell you more about how to use them when we’re above deck,” Dahlia explained. She then produced a couple of shiny metal orbs, their surface resembling a grid, just like a pineapple. James recognized the strange objects from their visit to Nathan’s shop the other day.
“The gnomes were working on these, right?” James asked as Dahlia handed him one orb. He remembered how the Wizard had used it as a visual aid to describe the magical ley lines of the world.
“Yup, they offered them when I visited their shop this morning. You want to know how they work?” Dahlia asked, smiling at James as she headed off. “C’mon, I’ll explain on the way,” she called as James hurried to follow.
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The rowboat rocked slightly against the waves as Dahlia and her team worked the oars, heading to their destination ahead. While the shaman and Finn steered the boat, Bjorn was currently emptying the contents of his stomach out into the black waters. Dahlia sighed, watching the dwarf groaning as he sat back on the boat. He scowled at the sky, covering his eyes despite the lack of sunlight through the gray clouds.
“I really shouldn’t have drunk so much,” he groaned out loud. The dwarf mercenary had been hungover most of the day, avoiding light and loud noises. Dahlia had thought the effects of last night would wear off Bjorn, but it seemed as if she had underestimated the amount he had to drink the night before.
‘Plus, he was thrown across the tavern and into a table… I doubt anyone can just shrug that off in a day,’
The shaman looked off to Frostbite, sailing off to the other island to leave James’ team close to the shore.
‘Really hope he understood my instructions on using the runes and that orb,’ Dahlia thought as she worked the oars against the black waters.
After a while of rowing, team two had finally beached onto the island’s gravelly shores. Dahlia, Finn, and Miles pulled the small vessel onto the shore as Bjorn sat nearby, still holding his head.
“You can always help,” Dahlia murmured as she caught her breath. Her arms were already sore from all the rowing, so pulling the rowboat onto shore was more than a little difficult for her. The dwarf grunted, shifting as he pulled out a small brass flask.
“I could,” Bjorn simply answered. He held the flask upside down above his gullet, brownish liquid pouring from the brass container. He made a face right after, scrunching his nose as he wiped his mouth, screwing his flask shut. “Ugh… why do vitality potions always taste like shite?” He complained as he moved to stand up again. Dahlia opened her mouth to answer but decided it was best that no one knew what it contained.
‘Just be grateful for what it does…’ Dahlia mentally commented as she recalled the many disgusting insects and weird plants that made up the concoction.
“If you really think those are bad, you should probably avoid drinking any vigor potions,” Miles said as the group headed into the woods ahead. “They’ll practically burn a hole through your stomach.”
“Aye,” Finn agreed. “Had a cousin who bought a salt vigor from some shady traveling merchant. Was supposed to keep his wits sharp and perception high, but he ended up getting the shits for a week straight. Miracle, he didn’t die.” Dahlia could see Bjorn hold back a laugh, a grin visible underneath his scruffy reddish beard.
“What a scam,” the dwarf chuckled. “Who falls for such shit?”
“Vigors are supposed to be a double-edged sword,” Dahlia said. “They enhance you for a bit but come with various consequences. I heard of this one alchemist who tried a vigor that was supposed to drastically increase the strength of his spells. It worked until he got a heat stroke seconds after casting a single spell.” She shrugged, looking at Finn. They work but are hardly worth the trouble of using them.”
“Your cousin was lucky he only got dysentery,” Miles added. “I’ve seen men burst into flames after using those things.” The follower tilted his head a bit, making his carved grin and dot eyes appear like they were facing the group. “Then again, I might’ve been responsible for some of those Ignitions.”
Dahlia could swear the strange man was smiling underneath that wooden mask. The entire group fell into an awkward silence as they walked through the barren forest.
“That lad must have a few bolts loose in that noggin’ of his. Hel, even his presence gives me the creeps,” Bjorn murmured to the shaman in a quiet voice that only she could hear.
“I hear you,” Dahlia whispered back as they walked. Miles was… strange. Dahlia had heard the stories about the followers of Myr. Still, she had dismissed them as falsehoods made from shallow judgments. Now, however, she was starting to believe those stories.
‘Still, he hasn’t done anything strange besides his words.’
Dahlia reserved her full judgment of the man until she had gotten to know him a bit better.
Suddenly, Miles stopped, which in turn made the entire group suddenly take pause.
“What is it?” Dahlia asked, stepping up to where the young man was. Her eyes caught sight of something ahead, hidden behind a tree. It was blackened, malformed, and twisted weirdly. She squinted, unsure of what it was.
“It’s a corpse,” Miles suddenly said, nearly making the shaman jump at his sudden words.
“What?” she asked.
“It’s a corpse,” Miles repeated, pointing his finger at the tree. “I’ve seen enough bodies to know what that is,” he added. Dahlia looked back at the… thing that Miles had spotted. She slowly approached the tree, her hand moving to her dagger.
‘What the… Is that what I think it is?’
Dahlia took a few more steps, coming ever so close to the tree. The ‘corpse’ was still as a statue, not moving as she approached it. Still, it unnerved her to no end until she reached the tree.
“What is it?” Bjorn suddenly called out, surprising Dahlia and almost making her jump. She looked at the group, who were all a couple meters away from the tree she was at. Dahlia sighed, focusing her attention on the thing in front of her.
“Miles is right. It’s a body,” she confirmed.
‘If it could be called that.’
The ‘corpse’ was nothing more than a twisted deer carcass, its limbs bent wrongly and its head entirely missing. Patches of its fur were gone, its skin a pitch-black and unnatural purple. Dahlia crouched, poking the remains with a stick she had picked up.
“Crystals,” she noted aloud, noticing the small glistening rocks embedded into the thing’s skin.
‘It’s just like the thing that attacked Yorktown. Gods, it even smells like it, too.’
Dahlia examined the corpse some more, an unsettling feeling coming over her.
‘What killed it? It’s so mauled and twisted. No natural predator would do this.’
The shaman noted the missing head, which worried her even more.
‘Whatever it is, we’re going to have to find it.’
Using her dagger, Dahlia moved to cut off one crystal from the blackened skin. It was much more difficult than she had expected, with her putting in extra effort to cut her blade through the flesh. After some forced sawing, she got her sample. Dahlia pulled a glass vial from her leather pouch, courtesy of James, before dropping the sample into it.
“Does anyone have anything flammable?” she asked as she turned around, pocketing the vial. Her team was now behind her, watching as she examined the remains. Bjorn was the first to react, stepping up as he pulled out a tin flask this time and handed it to the shaman. She raised an eyebrow as she looked down at the flask of booze.
“Believe me, it’s the good stuff from Haven. Dwarven brewed,” Bjorn proudly stated. Dahlia unscrewed the top, taking a small sniff before gagging and coughing to the side.
“By Freyja, it smells stronger than cleansing alcohol!” She commented, shaking her head as she held the flask away from her nose.
‘The vapors alone would light up from a single spark spell…’
She swore that her nose’s senses had been permanently damaged.
Bjorn guffawed at her reaction. “Pretty good, aye?” He asked.
“Yes… This’ll work,” Dahlia finally said before she poured some of the flask’s contents onto the corpse. She would’ve poured all the foul liquid if it wasn’t for Bjorn. The dwarf snatched the flask away like it was his only child.
“What’re you doing?” he asked, putting the flask away. “You don’t just waste good booze like that!”
“Well, what did you think I would use it for?” Dahlia asked.
Bjorn seemed to want to keep arguing but simply shook his head. “You owe me a queen piece for that!” he demanded.
Dahlia sighed, deciding she wasn’t entirely thrilled about arguing further. “Fine, I’ll get you your booze money after we’re done here.” She turned away from the dwarf, facing the corpse once again. She raised her hand to the remains of the former deer, taking a deep breath before speaking out.
“Ignition,” she chanted as she formed the appropriate hand gesture. Within seconds, the corpse was alight, bursting into flames with an explosive whoosh. Dahlia stumbled back from the sudden Fireball, staring at the flaming pile of flesh.
‘Maybe it’s a good thing Bjorn didn’t let me use the rest of the flask…’
Dahlia and her team stared at the burning, twisted shape of the former deer. She noted how long it took for the flesh to truly start burning as it resisted the flames for a good minute before finally cooking under the intense heat of the Ignition spell and the strong alcohol. The smell the burning pile emitted was horrible and foul, almost making Dahlia gag from disgust as she turned away.
Once she did so, she saw how Miles was focused on something else again. His head was turned to the woods. She followed his gaze once more, noticing something she didn’t before. There were markings along the trees, almost like claw marks. The follower noticed her staring, his head turning to the shaman.
“You think your ‘monster’ is responsible?” He asked, gesturing towards the burning corpse of the deer, which was slowly dying out in heat and intensity. Dahlia stepped towards the marked tree, running her fingers across the torn bark and strange residue left behind.
‘Blood?’
Her fingertips came back dirtied with a dark substance that felt greasy when she rubbed it between her thumb and index.
“It’s likely,” Dahlia responded to Miles before returning to her team.
Bjorn was still watching the burning corpse, which was slowly turning into nothing more than ash and embers despite only burning for a few minutes at most. The Ignition spell didn’t play around with its heat, as even Dahlia had to use runes to ensure the firepit at her small home didn’t burn out so quickly and light up the hut by accident.
Without those runes to keep it in check, the spell could quickly engulf a target in flames, burning hot and fast. Dahlia knew well how fast it cooked flesh. After all, she could still remember the sight of the marauder burning to death, his screams and burnt flesh haunting her mind. Dahlia shivered at the memory, shaking it away as she forced her eyes away from the burnt remains.
“Let’s track those markings,” she blurted, returning to the woods. She wanted to escape the smell of burnt remains, which reeked worse now. Dahlia walked into the woods without another word, following the trail of dark blood and marked trees.
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James trudged through the snow before finally taking a break at a nearby log. He caught his breath, the cold air stinging his lungs as puffs of steam exited his mouth and nostrils.
“God,” James managed, looking back at Edmund and Archibald, who seemed to feel the same way. The elf was red in the face, his breathing heavy and exhausted as Edmund tried to make it to the log James was at. Brant was already sitting on the log with James, but he didn’t seem as tired as the other three.
“How… big… is this island?” Edmund suddenly commented as he reached James, sitting down to catch his breath.
“It shouldn’t be too big,” James lied, knowing that he truly did not know the scale or how much area they needed to cover.
“I am a warrior!” Archibald suddenly shouted, trudging through the path James and Edmund made through the snow. “Not some… explorer!” He continued as he reached the end of the log, panting as he sat down. The elf had been complaining the most about the walk, taking multiple breaks, and damn near giving up most of the way. “Where are we heading to anyway?” Archibald then asked, finally catching his breath.
“We’re heading to the center of the island. We’ll most likely find something there,” James answered, his own breathing finally calmed down. That was another lie, as James followed Faust’s ‘gut feeling’.
‘It’s not a ‘gut feeling’. I can feel something strange coming from there. I just can’t explain it…’ Faust suddenly spoke out, annoyed.
‘You think it’s like the last time we interacted? With it? ‘James asked.
‘I’m not sure. It’s so strange. It’s almost as if...’
“Hey, James, can I ask you something?” Edmund suddenly spoke up, catching James off guard.
“Huh?” James answered dumbly, turning to the young man.
“How do we fight this thing you and Dahlia briefed us about? It honestly sounds like something out of a nightmare.” Edmund was now breathing normally, his brow furrowed as he looked at James while the other two men also looked at him for answers.
“Well,” James started, thinking back. “When Dahlia and I had fought it, we killed it by distracting its attention from time to time. Still, we almost died from that tactic… It had moved so fast, it would’ve killed me if it wasn’t for her.” He sat up straight, holding onto the helmet he had brought with him. “But, with more people, I don’t doubt we can take it on. Still, we should be careful if we find something like it. There’s no telling what form it could take on since last time.” James recalled how it took over a human body and how dangerous it was.
‘Imagine if it took over a wolf instead of a human. We would’ve been dealing with something entirely different in terms of shape and form. Who’s telling what it can do out here, in these woods…’
James found himself frowning at the thought of a bear engulfed in crystals.
‘Best not to jinx us,’ James concluded.
“All we have to do is aim for the head, right?” Archibald asked, his tiredness fading away as quickly as it came. The elf stood up, drawing his rapier. “No problem then, just get me close enough and… Stab!” The elf demonstrated a thrust with his rapier, a grin forming on his lips.
“Do you really think that toothpick will work?” Brant asked. “Didn’t you say that most of its body was protected by crystals? Who’s to say that whatever creature we find isn’t going to protect its skull in those things?” The black-haired man commented.
Archibald gave Brant a short laugh, devoid of humor, as he sheathed his silver rapier, which seemed to be engraved with runes. “Believe me when I say that Delilah can cut through nearly anything short of diamonds!”
‘Oh, gods, he actually named it,’ Faust commented, sounding like he was holding back laughter. James could see a familiar look of embarrassment on Edmund’s face, his palm on his forehead as Brant laughed.
“Oh? Got something to say?” Archibald responded, annoyed. The three men then bickered, their voices growing to gibberish. James shook his head, standing up as he put his steel helmet back on, feeling the cold metal press against his sweat-soaked hair and forehead. Just as he was about to get them to stop arguing, something else caught his attention. James squinted into the snowy woods, focusing on something black and twisted.
“Hey!” James suddenly said, shutting the three men up. James didn’t wait to see their reactions as he trudged through the snow, making his way to the clearing ahead. He stopped at the edge of the small clearing in the woods, staring at the strewn-out bodies of… whatever they were. Hell, they were barely recognizable as bodies on their own. James could make out broken limbs, twisted torsos, and blackened rib cages poking out of the stained snow.
‘Too small for humans or elves. Either the remains of gnomes or goblins,’ Faust suddenly said.
“Christ,” James muttered aloud, unable to hide his reaction to the scene.
“What is…?” Edmund started to say before he trailed off, his footsteps suddenly stopping. James heard the others arrive nearby but didn’t have to look at them to know their reactions.
“Gods…” Archibald muttered, followed by a silent prayer from Edmund.
‘James, you know what we have to do, right?’ Faust mentioned right as James spotted the crystals forming on the frostbitten flesh.
James swallowed, forcing himself to walk up to one of the twisted bodies, its form unrecognizable. Everyone was silent as James went down on a knee, reaching for his short sword. He grabbed one of the bigger crystals with his free hand. James cringed at the disgusting feel of it but didn’t comment as he pressed the sharp end of his sword against the shriveled flesh. He slowly cut, using his short sword as a makeshift hacksaw. It was disgusting, unnerving work, nearly making the young man vomit as he cut through the wet flesh. Finally, after an eternity of sawing, the crystal ripped from the flesh, black fluid speckling on James and his sword.
“Fuck!” James cursed, spitting onto the snow nearby and dropping his sword as he stood up.
James looked down at the bloodied crystal in his hand, clear as a prism instead of cloudy like the other one that Gryff had shown him. He reached into the leather pouch by his belt, searching through the contents before pulling out a glass vial. James uncorked it, dropping the specimen into the container. Once the vial was contained and put away, James reached for his sword, cleaning the blade with his shirt sleeve.
“So what now?” Edmund suddenly asked. James turned to see his group, all of them watching him. James looked back at the bodies, knowing that there was one more thing left for them to do before they went on their way.
“Gather the bodies,” James ordered, sheathing his short sword. “We’re going to have to burn them…”
All four of the men did as needed, moving to gather up and pile any of the bodies and remains. James saw Archibald retch behind a tree after one body fell apart on him. He didn’t blame him, as James himself was dangerously close to emptying his stomach. Still, they all continued their grim work, finally piling all the remains in the middle of the snowy clearing.
“What are we dealing with here, James?” Brant asked, wiping his hands on a nearby tree.
“To be honest? I have no idea,” James answered as he reached into his leather pouch, looking for the vial of cleansing alcohol Dahlia had handed him before he departed. “But I’m not keen on letting it live any longer.”
He proceeded to burn the blackened remains.