To rush was a short route to ruin. So eager were we to grow powerful and meet our Villain quota that we never stopped to check how deep the water was before wading in - or what lurked beneath the surface. Part of that was our folly. The rest was down to damned fate lining up the dominoes to see how many would collapse as we barreled through unrelenting horrors one after another. Soon enough, one would fall and crush us, but until that day, we would push forth to the light away from the shadow of looming death.

The villagers were confused, and the Party was exhausted. Myself, I felt fine - excluding the wound across my arm which refused to heal. They had to almost drag me from the pit and through the tunnels, for as much as my limbs resisted my intention to move. Apologies and thanks washed over me to no effect. Any mental energies I had left conserved were utlisied to stay awake.

“You look like a demon shat you out,” Angelos put plainly, as he leaned back in the chair beside the bed I had been laid in.

It was a small house - one of the quaint cottages that I had been offered in place of a proper structure of healing. Apparently, during the early stages of the takeover, it had been burned to the ground and the local doctor ran from the village. I was thankful for at least a comfortable flat surface to rest upon, even if I was slightly too wide for it.

The decor was simple, few and modest furnishings seemed to be all that was required for the farm life. Perhaps there was something I could learn from the humble surroundings if I were not too cold and lethargic to properly write new passages upon my bruised psyche.

“Technically, I think that is close enough to the truth.” I smiled and closed my eyes. The Guardian chuckled, but said little. I had faced the monster, but he had been a few feet from having to murder all the confused villagers that now milled around outside, still unsure as to what happened, but regretful all the same.

The creak of the door, followed by a pair of footsteps, told me that the two younglings had returned. I opened my eyes as the door closed behind them, the aching light of the day and soft sounds of life returning to normal snuffed out as the worn wooden blockade closed us in.

“How is he?” Florence asked, moving closer as the Ranger stood by the door, arms folded.

“Strong as shite, as usual,” Angelos shook his head. “Nothing my god can heal, but in time he’ll overcome it.”

“Or die?” I asked.

“I doubt Death himself could pry your bloody stubborn arse from this mortal plane if he asked nicely.” He shook his head in reply. The Guardian then looked up at the Mage. “What say our flock of wretches outside?”

“Their memories are spotty at best.” Florence sighed and crossed her arms. “What we can gather is someone brought the monster here while it was in infancy, perhaps lulled by mind control? Then when they feared for its well-being, they dumped it down the well.”

Jakob continued where she left off. “They’d been feeding it. As the well water corrupted more of the village, they pooled more resources in.” The Ranger looked off as his eyes glazed over.

“Yeah.” Florence shuddered. “At first, food. Then… adventurers. Dissenters. Any people that wouldn’t leave or bend the knee.”

Angelos shifted on his wooden chair. “Any hints as to what the fucker was going to grow into, eventually?”

They both shook their heads in return.

It was nothing I could provide an answer on either. Despite my wealth of knowledge and experience… there were similar things in nature, certainly - but nothing I’d had the displeasure of coming across myself. “Just how long has this been going on?”

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“Few weeks, I think.” Florence shrugged, then wrinkled her face up at the fireplace. With a flick of her hand, it burst into flame and a warmth began to permeate through my extremities.

“How fortuitous of us to arrive now, then.” I smiled again at the half sarcasm. In truth, it probably was - just not for us. If whatever creature had been gestating beneath this village had been allowed to fully form, then there was no telling how much damage it would have caused, or what kind of power would be needed to put it back in the ground.

“Always seems like we’re outnumbered.” Florence leaned back against the table, the leg screeching against the stone floor as it jostled slightly.

“One Hero for every ten Villains,” Jakob agreed from the closed door.

I exhaled. Certainly, we had plunged from one tragedy to the next - but that can’t be the reality of how bad the world had gotten? “It’s a lot easier to be a Villain,” I eventually conceded. “Not that I am giving an undue desire for that way of life - but it is mostly defined by the lack of something. Lack of morals, responsibility, or love. Acting for yourself alone to achieve selfish or destructive goals.”

“And you’re much happier now?” Angelos gave me a wide, shit-eating grin.

“Not the kind of question that has any true answer.” I closed my eyes. Some things were nice. Others, not very good at all. Happiness was a waning emotion I didn’t want to pin any sort of tangibility to. Right now, I felt pretty morose.

Florence tutted at the Guardian. “Leave him rest, Angelos, he has suffered enough without your bedside manner.”

The Guardian snorted. “Ah, he’s used to worse. Not the first time I’ve ruined your sleep in such a fashion. Night of the Yellow Moon, you remember that shite, Victor?”

“I do,” I said, keeping my eyes closed. “Nearly lost both legs fighting the goblin King, and I had you piece me back together.”

“Dark days,” he replied. “Serves you right for being predictable.”

Smart of the small greenskins, though. Thin, bladed chains between the trees they chose to pitch the battle in. I had swooped down upon them at break-neck speed, as was the style at the time. A rare showing of evil against evil, where the forces of a Hero had convinced some infighting between Villains. After that battle, Angelos had gone to work with the Hero for a short while, before his god took him further afield.

A silence fell across the room. All the days had been dark back then, from the view of one trying to atone. The Guardian sought some balance, and in doing good with us three, I wondered if he would eventually take off to do some evil in exchange. Should I stop him? Was he expecting or hoping I would? Possibly not, but in some ways that would be the equal to his plan for dealing with me if I bit and became uncontrollable.

“So, what now?” Florence was the one to break the quiet, some apprehension in her voice.

“Some tea would be nice,” I grinned, and pushed myself up into a sitting position. My muscles were still tired and numb, but I could at least move, and it wasn’t painful. The assumption was the poison was something to make the monster's prey unresponsive - maybe even soften up my insides, so that I was easier consumed. Our clothes hadn’t reacted to the water as if it was acid, so that was a brief relief.

“Then some rest?” She asked, as the Guardian got up with a grumble to fish for his supplies.

“Why start making the habit of being fully prepared now,” Jakob murmured to himself, audible to everyone in the small room.

I gave them both a smirk and shook my head. “How long will I suffer this malady, Angelos?”

He brought out the small metal pot from his backpack and glanced up at me. “Fuck if I know - your bloodsucker body ain’t right. We’re talking… one or two weeks?”

“Untenable.” I waved my hand in the air, sluggishly, to cut off their groans. “While I agree that this day is lost, lest I become rat feed, I am unconvinced we need to wait that long.”

“Don’t ask for my opinion if you didn’t bleedin’ want it, you arsebag.” The Guardian shook his head and looked about the room for water.

“Probably best to use from our flasks,” Jakob grimaced, before lowering his hood.

It wasn’t long before the piercing whistle of boiled water broke our morose silence. Cutting down a giant rat was something that was meant to be below us, yet along the way we had nearly run afoul of something much worse. There was way too much evil lurking about in land that the Guild didn’t even have contracts for. How shortsighted my thoughts had been that Villains were fighting against the grain, when it turned out Heroes were constantly tested against the odds.

My brain started to unspool as we wound down from the day's hardship. A representative from the village entered and spoke with us. Free to stay as long as we needed. Any food or drink that they could spare would be ours. Petal was fine and dandy, but I had no doubt in the back of my mind that should we have fallen in the fight, then she would have been next on the menu.

We were offered to transfer to the inn, but we declined. Here was safe, and whilst it was a little too cramped for the four of us to sleep, it was a step above the woods. Being together gave us safety, for now.

Rest came easily to me, but so did the nightmares.