The Forsaken Hero

The small village was dark and silent. The buildings, numbering no more than twenty, were crude and unfinished, built from lumber harvested from the twisted swamp trees. Perched on knotted stilts, the structures stood above the muddy ground, their roofs woven from reeds and windows mere gaps in the slanted walls, covered by drapes of tangled strings.

”Hello?” Soltair called, standing tall amidst the marsh.

”Shhh!” Trithe shot him a scathing look, but could only cringe as his voice echoed hollowly through the village.

We waited a few seconds, but the silence that followed was as deep as the oncoming night itself. A faint breeze drifted over the surface of the water, filling the air with the rasp of trembling cattails and caressing my skin with icy fingers. Something in the wind resonated with my soul, sending my mana into a chaotic fit. The sensation sent a shiver through my body, and I hugged my arms tightly about my chest.

”You were right,” Soltair said, smiling at Trithe. ”No one’s home.”

He kicked the mud from his boots and strode into the village, taking a few moments to peer through the uncovered windows. I followed quickly behind him, scanning the darkening marsh and village. The gentle lap of water and the low hum of the wind felt uncharacteristically eerie, and every rustle made me jump.

After a thorough sweep, Soltair settled on the largest house. The entrance lacked any form of stairs, so he leaped through the doorway, scattering the strings of beads, and offered a hand, pulling Trithe up behind him. I waited expectantly, but the two of them disappeared into the hut, leaving Fyren and myself behind.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I tried to climb up behind them. Although it was only a few feet off the surface of the water, I found my legs unresponsive and nearly slipped and fell into the mud. A bitter chill numbed my legs to the knees, preventing me from raising them more than a few inches.

Noticing my condition, Fyren lifted me to the doorway, placing me on my knees. I stumbled forward, finding a good place to sit before pulling my boots off and dumping the marshy filth out. My toes were pale and wrinkled, coated in slime and mud. I summoned a Waterball and enveloped my feet, leaving it in place until the mud dissolved and left my skin.

As I cleaned the filth away, Soltair gasped. ”What the...”

I glanced up and found him staring at my feet. My first thought was to blush, as any girl would given the circumstance, but I followed his gaze and froze. My skin had turned dark and blotchy, especially around my toes. As they began to warm, tingles stabbed into my flesh, nearly drawing a cry from my lips.

”Frostbite?” Trithe asked, disbelief in her eyes.

”Never mind that, can’t you just heal yourself?” Soltair asked.

His words jolted me from my shock, and I quickly cast a Restoration spell. It was overkill for this sort of injury, but I didn’t care. Relief filled me as the pain faded and my skin regained its healthy flush. The entire process of freezing had been so gradual that I hardly noticed when my feet went numb, and hadn’t even considered casting magic to warm myself up.

After the last of the frostbite disappeared, Fyren stroked his chin. ”You said it was cold, but I didn’t think it was this severe.”

”We’re way too far south for that kind of temperature,” Trithe said, not taking her eyes from my feet. ”There’s more going on here than meets the eye.”

”That would explain the lack of wildlife,” Soltair agreed. ”Perhaps some sort of arctic monster wandered their way down here and is affecting the environment.”

”Arctic?” Trithe asked. Confusion colored her voice, as though she’d never heard the word.

Soltair glanced at her. ”Yeah, you know, the snow places. Isn’t there anywhere like that around here?”

She shook her head. ”Not on this continent, at least.”

After an awkward silence, I shared my observations. ”I didn’t see any signs of magic in the water, but the source might be magical.”

”Let’s get some rest, then we can investigate it,” Soltair decided. ”I’ll take first watch, and Trithe can have second. Fyren, you good with third?”

”Of course,” the adventurer responded. ”I’ll cover Xiviyah’s, too.”

I began to protest, but Soltair nodded, cutting me off. ”Alright, sounds good.”

He and Trithe moved to one side of the room, leaving Fyren and myself some space. After casting a spell to warm the air, I looked around the crude, single-room hut. The furnishing was minimal, but functioning, consisting of woven reed mats and poorly balanced tripod stools. Thick bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling, filling the air with a sharp musk. A few baskets in the corner emitted a rotten stench, but I avoided looking inside. Probably just a storage or midden heap.

I pulled my bedroll from the satchel and threw it out over one of the mats. Although magic had healed the frostbite, it couldn’t wash the exhaustion from my bones. After setting a few wards, I easily drifted off to sleep.

I awoke bleary-eyed to a hand on my shoulder. Struggling to even open my eyes, I groaned. As quickly as the nights passed, it was far too dark to be morning.

Fyren shook me again, the grim look in his eye driving away my drowsiness. ”Somethings out there,” he muttered softly, motioning for me to be quiet.

Soltair and Trithe were already awake. They leaned against the window, peering outside. Yawning, I summoned my staff and joined them, glancing first at the sky. Soft gray teased the eastern horizon, promising dawn was not far off. The village remained shrouded in umbral shadows, with naught but the flutter of the reeds drew my eye.

”See anything?” Soltair whispered.

I shook my head, ”What am I looking for?”

Fyren joined us. ”I don’t know, but I felt a strange presence out there. It felt vaguely demonic, but not pure blood. Probably and Infernal.”

”Infernal?” I asked, pondering the unfamiliar word.

”A native creature twisted by demonic power. It happens when an animal or monster is exposed to a gate or demonic backlash.”

”I’ve never heard of that,” Soltair said slowly, glancing skeptically at Fyren.

”Unsurprising, but I imagine that’ll change soon. The numbers of Infernals are bound to increase as more gates appear.”

”If that’s true,” Trithe broke in, ”then doesn’t that mean there’s a gate near here?”

Fyren nodded. ”Possibly, although it could also be from a failed demon summoning. Perhaps a demonkin cult works in this area, or even the inhabitants of this village. That would certainly explain why they’re gone now. Infernals are consumed by rage and bloodlust, unable to recognize friend from foe.”

As the adventurer fell silent, Soltair poked his head out once more before turning to our party. ”I’m going to check it out. Got anything for me, Xiviyah?”

”Give me a moment.” I closed my eyes and concentrated, casting a chantless Nexus spell from memory. While it required more mana than anything else I had, it was much more efficient than spreading multiple spells over the entire party. After the Nexus settled over our souls, I added several protection spells, including elemental shields, Aegis, and the ward against insects.

As the final magic circles disappeared, Soltair drew his sword, filling the hut with a sharp metallic ring. ”Cover me.”

Trithe pulled her dual blades out and slipped out behind him, leaving Fyren and myself alone. He sighed and rubbed his head, muttering something about ”reckless kids.” I took a few seconds to pull my boots on, wincing as I recalled the bitter pain of the frostbite, before we left the hut.

A thin fog had arisen during the night, curling near the edges of the village but never drifting in. A thin layer of ice had formed over the top of the mud, shattering beneath our boots with every step. Although the Ice Shield protected me from the cold, every breath sent thick white clouds drifting through the air.

After searching for several minutes, we came up empty-handed. The village was as abandoned as when we arrived, and Fyren claimed to be unable to sense the presence anymore. But, just as we were about to turn in, Trithe’s voice drew our attention to the other side of the village.

”Monster tracks!”