Amil had opened his eyes three hours later. His sclera had darkened as time passed until his eyes became black orbs. Corin found himself free of the compulsion to protect the man. Amil’s skin had been a healthy tan, but it too had turned into a pale gray. The talkative and awkward young man had been tempered by something. The man now stood as if his muscles and bones had been forged by steel. His physical abilities seemed to have increased by a great deal as well. Corin hadn’t tested him. When they had moved their camp to resupply at a friendly oasis, Amil had been seen loading three times of what he would have in the past. The men had started to avoid Amil as he started to physically change. Corin hadn’t felt the same aversion to him as every one else. There was in fact a sense of comfort from having the man near.

Corin met with his camp’s battle mages. The talented ones had gone through a few of the rituals that had been passed onto them. They reported their own powers had felt more responsive. There was now a physical bond that Corin had felt between him and the mages that had been enhanced. The original mages that had been in the tent that night had already been under some unknown transformation. The unnamed man had probably done something secretly. Corin wanted to hate him, but he could feel changes in his own body. They hadn’t been as drastic as Amil’s but there was a definite increase in his own physical abilities. There was a downside. Dreams had haunted him. A machine was surround by the dead dressed in unfamiliar clothes. Rusty gears the size of buildings were forever moving. The sound was deafening.

The mages wanted to start testing their rituals on the other members. They collected the liquid that had been flowing from Corin’s fingers. Corin’s control of the substance had increased as time passed. It would still evaporate almost the instant it hit the ground. It was especially hard to keep stored, but that was an issue for the future. They continued the freely rob caravans between settlements. Casualty counts had gone down as more of his men were enhanced. Those that were fallen were converted to wights. Amil had become their default leader, under Corin. They drilled day and night in complete silence. There was still a low number of wights, but Corin wouldn’t mind if their numbers grew. It was still hard to get them integrated with the rest of his men.

Corin sat on a crate. It had been covered by a blanket and a fancy pillow. Appearance was still important. A small mercenary band had been unfortunate enough to be in the way as a detachment had been searching for a caravan to capture. Three men sat on the rug in front of Corin. In the middle a man with a large well groomed mustache. To his left there was a clean shaven man with his arm in a sling sat. To the right was a younger man, shivering with fear. Corin studied their faces, keeping his own devoid of emotion. He rested his hand on his scimitar and drummed his fingers. The man in the middle and on the left were impressive. The shivering man seemed to remind Corin of Amil. There was something about the man in the middle. Corin kept feeling his eyes drift toward him. A tray with tea sat unused between them.

“This is getting nowhere,” Corin sighed.

The men that sat before him remained silent. He didn’t mind the silence. He would gladly sit before them. He was in a position of strength, but they still wouldn’t budge. He would have to do something drastic. He glanced casually at Amil. Corin pointed toward the shivering man.

“Amil, take him.” Corin ordered.

The shivering man’s eyes grew to the size of plates in the time it took Amil to sprint forward. There was a flash of steel and the man’s head rolled free on the carpet. Hot blood spurted on the middle man’s face. He closed his eyes and tightened his jaw. Three men were called into the tent and gathered the body of the shivering man. The injured man had jumped to his feet but was quickly restrained.

“Take him outside, but isolate him.”

The guards nodded and dragged the man out of the tent as he shouted.

“My offer still stands.” Corin said.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I fear we will now have to decline.” The man said through gritted teeth.

Corin felt as though he had made a misstep by killing the man. He closed his eyes trying to picture his face. Corin frowned.

“I see.” Corin asked, “Your son?”

The man nodded slowly. There was anger, a barely contained fury. It was nothing but impotent rage. Corin stared deep into the man’s eyes while he tried to remember what had been done to him.

“A cup, please?” Corin asked one of the nearby men.

Corin started to peel off his right glove. His fingernails had turned into thick dark claws.

“You’re demon spawn.” The man growled.

Corin shrugged, “Probably?”

The man cast his gaze around the tent, but Amil caught the movement and pinned him to the ground.

“I’m not sure how well this will work,” Corin said.

He held a teacup in his hand as clear liquid flowed inside from his fingers. The man started to yell but was quickly gagged by Amil. Corin eyed the level of the liquid in the glass and swirled it around. Guards held the man still and Amil forced his mouth open. The man sputtered trying to spit it out, but Amil was quick to force the man’s mouth closed. After a moment the man was then forced to swallow.

“I want you to watch him Amil. Keep him isolated like the other one.”

Amil nodded as he cleaned his blade. The guards gagged the man as they dragged him out of the tent. Amil followed them.

“Take care of this,” Corin said, pointing at the bloodstained rug.

The remaining guards complied. Two weeks had shown marked improvement within the camp. It seemed to be more orderly and clean. The men had improved. The men felt more reliable. Maybe Corin had been passed a gift. He had left his gloves back in the tent. The claws took a bit getting used to. He could still pool the liquid in his palm. It still sizzled like cooking meat when it hit the ground. He could see grooves that had formed in the claws. Corin dropped his had to his side. He made his way back to the command tent. If they managed to capture a couple more mercenary groups, they might have a shot at capturing an oasis. He would discuss the idea with the leaders. He was supposed to unite humanity after all.

——

The elves split for the night. The order of the night was to stay unseen. They needed to capture another six. The small town was surrounded by large trees, which the elves used for their advantage. Qinran killed a monkey that he disturbed. It hadn’t been able to use an alarm call. Quinran dropped the body to the forest floor. The night was mostly quiet in the village. There were a guard presence. The human he had released must have spread the word about elves in the area. Before, Quinran would have been unconcerned of the dealings of humans. He had seen them as lesser beings. He had a forced change of mind. Being killed multiple times by a rock tended to change someone’s point of view. He enhanced his vision looking for individuals that seemed adept with magic. Pickings were slim, but there were a few individuals that looks promising. The others would be infiltrating the town soon. Quinran felt confident with his memory of the guard’s patrols and descended.

The buildings were made of wood with thatched roofs. The stilts were unique and took some time to get used to. It certainly made looking in through the windows harder. Quinlan hadn’t been sure of the purpose of the stilts, but it certainly added a level of difficulty that he hadn’t had to deal with in other locations. He climbed a ladder, careful not to make a sound. A conversation inside had drawn his attention and he had seen a flash of something. The door was open and he snuck in. He didn’t pay attention to what they said. They hadn’t had eyes on the door. There was a trace of mana in the air that seemed to shimmer in his sight. He followed the trail into the back. A woman changed into a loose fitting robe. Quinlan marked the location mentally and left the house as quick as he had entered it. She was surprisingly strong. He systematically searched the town repeating the same actions. There were three more promising targets.

Quinlan was the first to arrive at the camp but he was joined shortly by the others. They compared notes. Things were going well. Quinlan’s section had the least promising prospects, not counting the first woman he found. He decided taking her would be priority. The others had found far more than he had. There had also been minimal overlap as they each recounted their sections. The human guards were laughable. It would be a disappointment that they wouldn’t have to fight their ways out of town, but a clean get away was commendable as well.

Quinlan passed out a handful of fish squares. The others snatched one each. He also passed out a few potions to help with their raid tomorrow night. The fact they had landed in the same location that they had before helped reduce the need to prepare another location. The food was a reward. It helped mask the sickly sweet flavor of the potions. Nothing was more unpalatable to an elf than a sweet liquid.