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Chapter 11: By The Fire

James groaned as Dahlia sat him up against the tree, her hands attempting to remove his jacket. It was clear she was struggling with the zipper.

“Let me,” James murmured. His bloody hands moved to unzip his jacket, revealing his stained shirt and ripped collar. He almost expected the shaman to be amazed by the zipper, but her face was grim and absolute. She took off the bloody and torn jacket, dropping it aside as she looked at his mangled arms.

The injuries weren’t as bad as James initially thought. His right arm had some lacerations and cuts, but nothing too deep or severe. His left arm, however, was in terrible shape. Torn skin hung from his wrist and forearm, blood and saliva dripping from his wound. It was a wonder that the wolf didn’t cut something vital.

Dahlia frowned at the sight and pulled her waterskin from her belt. James winced as she poured the freezing water onto his wounds, cleaning the blood from them. After that, she grabbed some ointment from the satchel she had on her waist.

“Healing ointment. It should disinfect and heal your wounds,” Dahlia explained. She rubbed two fingers into the green mixture before gently applying it on James’ arms, the concoction causing his wounds to sting again.

Seamus watched from behind, his body huddled beside the fire the shaman had started earlier. They had all moved on from the scene of action, mainly because the previous clearing had reeked of wolf guts and because Dahlia had wanted to find a much drier place to start a fire and set up camp.

James rested his head against the tree and closed his eyes as he breathed in the cold, smoky air. He pondered through his thoughts, trying his best to pass the time.

‘Can you get rabies from wolves? Those were dire wolves…so I guess dire rabies?’

James would’ve chuckled at that, but his body didn’t feel like it. He was cold and sore, and he felt as if he was going to pass out.

‘You’re lucky to be alive,’ Faust chimed in. ‘If it wasn’t for me, you all would’ve been dead.’

James groaned softly, annoyed by the spirit’s comment.

‘Dahlia actually saved us. All you did was sit on the sidelines.’

The spirit’s anger flared in his body in response to that, prompting Dahlia to comment.

“Your body temperature is rising. Are you feeling any worse?” She asked worriedly, her fingers applying ointment on his cheeks and forehead, where his cuts stung like before.

“It’s Faust,” James answered. “He’s currently giving me the biggest headache since my midterms…”

“Faust? That’s the spirit’s name?” Dahlia asked. The shaman had finished cleaning James’ wounds.

“Yeah. Does it sound familiar?” James noted the way the shaman had reacted to the name. He hoped he would get some kind of context for the dead guy living inside his head.

“Not really. It doesn’t sound like a name from Valenfrost or Azurvale,” Dahlia admitted as she pulled out a roll of bandages from her satchel. “What are you two arguing about?”

“It’s stupid. He’s making a big fuss over nothing,” James assured.

‘Nothing?! I saved you back there! Do you think you magically gained the ability to sense those wolves? To see in the darkness? I gave you my senses! I was the reason your arms aren’t a broken mess!’

Faust was practically screaming inside his head, the experience enough to give James a headache.

‘Christ! Quiet down, will you?!’ James shot back angrily. ‘What are you even talking about? You gave me your senses?’

‘I’m a spirit! Spirits can do things beyond human limitations. I simply willed myself into your body when I sensed something was wrong,’ Faust explained.

James paused for a moment. He didn’t consider the idea of his bond with Faust spawning some otherworldly abilities. Now that he thought about it, he recalled his face getting hotter in that clearing—it was like he had a fever. He had dismissed it at the moment without thinking about it too much.

“Dahlia, did you notice anything strange with me before the wolf attack?” James asked. He wondered if what the spirit had said was true. Dahlia paused midway through the bandaging. She seemed to ponder on the question.

“Your eyes,” Dahlia recalled. “They were glowing blue, just like the night we resurrected you. Do you know why?”

“Faust told me he lent me his ‘powers.’” James explained. “That he, as spirit, can do things beyond human limitations,”

The shaman was quiet for a moment. She was finished bandaging James’ arm, her hands smoothing the gauze.

“Faust is right,” Dahlia finally answered. “Spirits are… strange things.” She brushed some of her black hair aside, seemingly in thought. “They are beyond human and possess powers that I’m not sure I can understand. Examples of this are the possessed, wraiths, specters, and even the undead, to an extent. You…you’re different. What you and Faust have is something entirely unique. I don’t think it has ever happened before.” Dahlia sighed tiredly. It was clear that most of her curiosity and energy were gone. “This is all a lot to process. Maybe it’s because I’m exhausted. Or maybe it’s because we all nearly died. I don’t know, but I just want to eat and forget what happened for now. All right?”

Dahlia rubbed at her eyes before she stood up. James noticed her arm and hand were also bandaged, showcasing that she, too, had her share fair of damage during the entire fight. Without another word, the shaman walked over to the campfire, where Seamus sat comfortably.

James looked down at his arms, which were bandaged neatly. The same couldn’t be said about his old jacket. The sleeves were ripped and stained with dried wolf blood, but underneath all that, the jacket didn’t seem in bad shape.

‘Just wash off the blood, stitch up the rips, and it’ll be almost as good as new.’

James decided it was still useful. He picked it up and slipped the jacket on as he stood up. As disgusting as it was to wear something so bloodied and ripped, the snowy night was unforgiving, and James was willing to have as many layers on as possible. Once upright, he headed off to join his party at the fire.

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Things were awkward and quiet between the trio. The only sounds were the crackling of the flames and the distant sound of the wind. They had been waiting patiently for around an hour, watching as the pot at the center boiled and steamed with their dinner.

James looked over at Seamus, who shook lightly in his huddled spot by the fire. He stared blankly at the fire, his arms holding his knees close to his chest. Despite his shaken state, Seamus had minor damage to his clothes. The younger man had miraculously got through the wolf attack with only a few scratches and cuts, his only major damage being his throat after he had vomited in the clearing.

Dahlia only had a bandage over her arm and hand and some scratches and bruises herself, but she seemed fine overall. James apparently got the worst out of the three, his arms taking most of the damage but not all of it. He had some cuts on his face and another bite down on his leg that he didn’t even know happened.

Dahlia had mentioned earlier that two wolves initially had tried to take James, but she got the second one’s attention. She had killed it and another one off with her dagger and ignition spell. Still, she hadn’t seen the bigger one James had killed after the first one. Dahlia had also mentioned how she saved Seamus, who nearly got his throat torn off by a wolf that had jumped on him.

‘Someday, I need to repay her somehow. That is if we survive the next two days.’

James knew full well that she had been nothing but helpful these last couple of days, keeping him alive and providing for him. While the bag with the heavy rocks was a red flag, he couldn’t help but brush that aside. She was his key to survival in this world.

“How much longer till the food’s done?” Seamus suddenly called out. He was staring at the pot of stew in front of him, his hunger apparent in the way his eyes locked onto the fire. Dahlia moved to check up on the pot, her uninjured hand lifting the lid.

Almost as if on cue, the smell of the stew traveled to James. The scent was enough to make his stomach growl, reminding him of his lingering hunger. He grimaced, remembering how they had only eaten small travel rations throughout the day, which comprised frozen jerky and dried fruits.

“It seems like it’s good to eat,” Dahlia said as she stirred the pot's contents with a wooden spoon. She moved to grab some wooden bowls from her pack before pouring the steaming hot stew into the first bowl. Dahlia handed that bowl to Seamus, who gingerly accepted.

Despite being careful, Seamus’ hands shook sporadically, spilling stew onto the ground. James watched with some worry, wondering if Seamus had fully recovered from the wolf attack.

“Here, James,” Dahlia’s voice cut through his thoughts, prompting him to turn to the shaman. She held out a bowl of stew for him, which steamed beautifully with the delicious smell of vegetables and meat. James wiped the drool from his mouth before reaching out and grabbing the steaming bowl.

He didn’t really care for a spoon and instead opted to pour the contents into his mouth little by little. He did it slowly, trying not to burn himself as he consumed his dinner. The stew wasn’t much. It was a basic soup with cooked bits of strange vegetables and herbs and an occasional bit of meat. James had eaten much better food back on Earth.

Still, after what had happened the last two days, including the bad food and small rations he had eaten, this stew tasted godly. It was so good that he had to refrain from chugging the contents of the bowl and burning his mouth.

After nearly five minutes of careful sipping, James finally placed the now-empty bowl on the ground. He sighed in satisfaction as he wiped his mouth. “That was the best thing to happen to me since I got here.”

Dahlia gave him a look, a slight smile as she sarcastically remarked, “So getting saved from the brink of death by a young beauty wasn’t the best thing?” She gestured towards herself, obviously joking.

James smiled for the first time in a while, chuckling a bit. “Honestly? It was probably the worst thing to happen in my life,” he remarked, his eyes moving to the fire. Dahlia nodded, her smile still on her lips as she watched the flames with James.

“I don’t doubt it,” she said. James glanced at his two companions, who were both done with their bowls. Seamus didn’t seem shaken anymore; his eyes tired as he watched the fire.

“Where did you learn how to do it?” James asked softly. Dahlia blinked in confusion, seemingly clueless about what he was asking. “The ritual used to revive me… where did you learn that?” James rephrased. The shaman was quiet momentarily, her eyes focused on the flames before her.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“I was taught by another shaman years ago when I was really young,” Dahlia started. “He raised me soon after my parents died and taught me how to cast spells and perform rituals. Let me summon some spirits to improve my skills.” She looked over at James. “I’ve read about rituals similar to the one I did on you, and I've even heard stories of the possessed healing almost any wound. But James, what I did on that night…Well, it was purely improvised.

“No one had taught me how to bring a man from the dead, only how to summon spirits. I only hoped that transferring the spirit inside of you could heal your wound. Instead, it did something none of us could imagine.” Dahlia sounded a bit excited as if she were a student who had discovered a fascinating result in a science project.

James blinked, surprised that she had actually improvised the whole thing. It was also terrifying, knowing that any minor mistake made during his resurrection would’ve been fatal. James wondered about her story, focusing more on how she had been raised by a previous shaman.

“What happened to the shaman who raised you?” James asked. He hoped he wasn’t stepping over boundaries.

Dahlia’s smile slowly faltered at the question, her eyes still focused on the campfire. “The same thing that happens to most people nowadays,” she muttered. James decided not to push anymore, instead opting to stare at the flames with her and Seamus.

‘It only makes sense that more people die here. Raiders, wild animals, harsh environments, and disease, if you’re lucky. This isn’t like Earth, where people can be safe in their homes and have modern solutions to help with their problems. This is reality, and it’s brutal.’

“I know that feeling,” Seamus spoke up, quiet but clearly heard. Both James and Dahlia turned their heads to the young man, whose gaze was craned towards the night sky. “The marauders took everything from me. Murdered everyone I knew and cared about. I only barely survived the initial attack… and my escape.”

There was some silence after Seamus’ words. James didn’t know how to respond to Seamus’ story, whether to comfort him or ask him to continue.

Before he could decide, Dahlia spoke up.

“You’re from the Halvorson Clan, right?” she asked. “I heard of its downfall a week ago… about how nearly everyone was purged during the raid.” Dahlia seemed sympathetic and almost understanding to the young man.

Seamus nodded, his eyes still facing the sky. “I’m Yorn’s son, his successor. Heir to his clan and everything he rules.” He shrugged, tired. “Or what remains back on that island now.”

“Yorn’s son? You’re really his son?” Dahlia asked, now surprised. James raised an eyebrow, looking at the shaman.

“Who’s Yorn?” He asked, genuinely confused about who they were talking about.

“Yorn is…was…the Jarl of one of the most powerful clans in Valenfrost—the Halvorson Clan, herald of the bear. His influence went far back in the day, before Valenfrost’s clans became disjointed and nomadic.” Dahlia spouted out the information like it was common knowledge, going on about the infamous man.

“Jarl Yorn raided and overtook hundreds of towns and forts back in his day, even entire cities if the legends are true. He’s taken down inquisitors, rival clans, orc tribes, and even Lumen Knights…” Dahlia slowly trailed off. It was clear that she had finally realized that the man was dead now and that his surviving son was right there, grieving. Her expression faltered a bit, her eyes downcast. “I’m sorry about what happened to him, Seamus.”

“It’s fine,” Seamus muttered. He didn’t seem to care much about it. “I just wish I had an ounce of courage that man had. Maybe then I wouldn’t have fled like a coward.” He sat up, his eyes dulled and tired.

James frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m sure you had no choice,” he pointed out, hoping it would make the young man feel better.

Seamus just shook his head. “I had a choice, James. Fight for my clan, or run like a coward. I chose the latter, and now here I am. Freezing on an island I had just doomed.”

“That’s still not true, you know. We still have two days. A lot can happen until then,” James mentioned, trying his best to lift the man’s spirits, along with his own.

“For someone who nearly got mauled to death by a wolf, you seem pretty hopeful,” Seamus pointed out. He raised an eyebrow. “In fact, I’d say you’re a pretty odd person, James. What’s your story? I know little about you.” Seamus asked.

There was genuine curiosity on his face, his gaze set on the otherworldly man. James blinked, being caught off guard by Seamus’ request. He noticed Dahlia was looking at him, too, also curious.

‘They both shared their own stories. It’s only fair for me to tell them mine.‘

James took an icy breath as he thought back to the day it had all started, back to when he had awoken from a nightmare he couldn’t remember.

He told his story to his new companions, starting from when he was late for work and how he was fired from his only source of income. He followed it up with him catching Monica cheating and the chaos that ensued after that. James omitted the details of his hallucinations from that day. He still wasn’t sure if they resulted from his night terrors or his summoning. Something told him it might’ve been both, but he kept that to himself. That was a can of worms he would have to deal with later.

James ended his retelling with the events that led up to his summoning: how he had crashed his own car on the side of the road, the whispers that guided him through an unnaturally cold forest, the inaudible voices bringing him to the lake. There, he had seen the slab of wood with runes etched onto it, his blind curiosity and apparent hypnotism bringing him to Valenfrost.

It seemed like a lot to process. Seamus asked occasional questions during James’ story, mainly about the ‘cars’ and ‘phones.’ The questions made James slightly miss his phone, even if he barely used it back on Earth. It was gone, however, destroyed during the crash that had led to him finding the black water lake. Even if he had brought it, it would have slipped out like his wallet did when he fell into the black waters.

“It’s not really the worst of stories. You both have had much more difficult lives than me,” James admitted. He felt stupid about his own story, how he had thought he had experienced one of the worst days of his life on that day.

‘In fact, only two days into this world and it has already surpassed that experience. Go figure.’

James shivered at that. He knew full well that it was only going to get harder from now on.

“It doesn’t really sound like a bad day to me,” Dahlia commented with a small smile on her lips, “If anything, I’m pretty sure it was a positive experience for you, besides getting injured in that ‘car crash’ of yours. I’d say the worst day should be the day where you had to carry around all of my heavy cargo, gave up a gold piece, and challenged a damn maniac to a duel.” Dahlia couldn’t help but chuckle, prompting a small smile from Seamus.

“Yeah,” James waved it off with a smile as well. “You have a point. By the way, you guys haven’t told me much about this world. I’ve only heard names like Norum, Lumen, and Vindis.” James wanted to change the topic. Not because he was tired of the ribbing but because he had been wanting to get that question out of the way first. James was clueless to this world, in both knowledge and experience. He needed to know as much as he could about Azura.

“You have a point,” Dahlia nodded, acknowledging James’ question. “I haven’t really been the best at explaining things to you,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “All right, I’ll try to answer your question. Let’s start with Norum. Some people might call Norum the capital of Valenfrost. The island and city borders the continent of Azurvale and the Lumen Kingdom, so most people and nomads argue that it’s not truly a part of Valenfrost, with the King’s control over it and all.” Dahlia’s explanation only confused James, making him end up with more questions.

“All right. Can you at least explain Lumen next? Without going on another tangent,” James asked carefully, hoping that the shaman understood.

“Right, sorry about that.” Dahlia gave a nervous smile and nodded before continuing, “The Lumen Kingdom is probably one of the longest-standing empires in existence, although its leadership has always been confusing. The power has always switched and changed Kings, Queens, and even councils in its past.” Dahlia stopped herself from continuing, trying her best not to go on another tangent. James sort of wanted to know more but knew that it was getting late, and he could always have a history lesson the next day.

“Okay…so what’s Vindis?” James finally asked, remembering it being mentioned as a ‘floating city.’

“Vindis city is one of the bigger cities in Valenfrost, next to Bernis and Norum,” Seamus said this time, seemingly interested in this topic. The most notable part about it is that it’s a floating city. All the buildings, streets, and alleys are made up of floating platforms tied together. The city even has its own center and neighborhoods, all attached to floating platforms.”

“Platforms?” James asked. He tried to imagine what that would look like.

“Yes, large floating platforms. All held together by chains, bridges, and even rope in some areas,” Seamus explained. “Vindis even has a wall around it, made up of longships to protect its harbors. Buoys surround the city, enchanted with runes to protect it against rogue waves and such.” Seamus quieted down again, seemingly in thought. “Vindis itself has been around for a century, I think…”

‘He sure knows a lot about the city. I wonder if he’s ever been there. Also, a century? How does a city like that stay up for so long?’

‘That’s not surprising. I remember hearing about a city that was created in the clouds. It had been around for thousands of years.’

Faust had suddenly spoken, surprising James.

‘Did you just remember something?’ The young man asked, wondering if Faust had recovered anything important about himself.

‘Yeah. I’ve slowly been recovering memories throughout this trip,’ Faust mentioned casually.

‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’ James asked.

"I don't like you that much," Faust said simply, causing James to introduce the spirit to a very tasteful mental image of his middle finger. The spirit returned the gesture.

“Well, I’m going to sleep,” Dahlia yawned and stretched her arms. “We’ll be sharing the tent for now. It’s too cold for us to be sleeping on our own.” She gestured towards the nearby wide tent, which had been pitched earlier. Dahlia had slipped in blankets, pelts, and bedrolls inside for all three of them to use. Sharing would be awkward, but James knew warmth came at a price. Better to be uncomfortable than to be freezing.

Without saying anything more than goodnight, the shaman stood up. She put in some more firewood before heading to the tent, leaving James and Seamus alone at the fire.

There was some silence after that, with the occasional crackling of the flames. James himself was thinking about calling it a night when something else broke the silence.

“How does it feel?” Seamus had asked out of nowhere, catching James off guard.

“How does what feel?” James asked, looking over at the man.

“Having that spirit inside of you... I bet it doesn’t feel too great, especially if he’s in your thoughts,” Seamus said.

James pondered his question for a bit, trying his best to find the words for such a feeling.

“It’s…weird. Like someone’s always around you, but they’re really not. It’s unnatural, something that no one is supposed to experience.” James tried his best to explain it, but it was almost like explaining the fourth dimension.

‘It’s incomprehensible. Unexplainable even.’

Still, Seamus seemed to get the point. He even nodded, his gaze moving to the crackling flames.

“I think I can understand,” Seamus said. I can’t imagine dealing with a spirit inside my head, another voice to add to the others.” He tapped at the side of his temple. I already have a lot going on in my head. I'm pretty sure a second mind would overcomplicate things.”

Seamus then did something James had never heard him do. He laughed. It wasn’t a hearty laugh nor something akin to a chuckle. It was an honest laugh, short and unexpected. Still, James could sense Seamus was still grieving his own losses, fighting his own demons inside, even if he didn’t show it. It was something James’ own father did back before he had gotten sick.

James remembered the way his father’s eyes dulled and lost color whenever he had alluded to his past. There was always a sense of loss behind his words and his warnings to James. It was like he was trying to save him from suffering the same way he did.

‘God, what would he say if he saw where I ended up?’

His entire life, James had tried to live a good life. Yet it had never worked out for him. Working a dead-end job, living a mundane life. Cheating ex, constant nightmares. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he had the latter. The fact that they had shown him his own fate was bizarre and terrifying. Why was he witness to such a terrifying premonition?

‘Is it the summoning? Was it that runic thing?’

Deep inside, James felt it was probably best he didn’t know. It was a gnawing feeling that came with such thoughts. It told him he shouldn’t dwell on it.

‘Best we try not to pry into such things,’ Faust suddenly spoke. ‘There are things in this world that are best left unknown. We’ll both go insane trying to find the answers.’

The spirit’s warning echoed in his mind. Faust didn’t have his memories. At least, not all of them. Yet even he knew better than to let James think about it. That was enough to give him the hint that he should heed the warning.

James looked at Seamus, who was still looking at the flames. While their situations differed wildly, James couldn’t help but see him as a parallel. Both were out of their league, placed into a dangerous situation, and forced to survive.

‘It’s too late for this shit. We should sleep and get our minds off of this.’

James sighed and stood up. He looked down at Seamus and gave him a reassuring smile.

“C’mon, man, let’s get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” James extended his hand to the young, broken man. Seamus weakly smiled and accepted it.

“Yeah, long day.”