The Empress of Beasts, page 69
part #13 of The Wandering Inn Series
The team took off. The [Scouts] moved on with the faster teams first—Yvlon’s group began a fast march after them. The Wings of Pallass watched from above. Their only job besides being backup was to teach the adventurers how to keep from getting too close to the Bloodfields by accident, and they did that rigorously.
And then it was just a job. Yvlon had done escort requests before, and while Hissle set a fast pace, he assured the adventurers this wouldn’t be their job the entire time.
“You’ll have to escort people clearing roads, even laying stones, perhaps. The Council hasn’t decided yet, but they want a good, fairly safe road. So you’ll get a slow pace. You just need to be on watch! You never know what’ll come up in the foothills or on the road. Mostly, I think it won’t be bad, but it’s the rare examples that calls for adventurers.”
“The Council’s spending a lot on this trade road.”
Ceria remarked as she, Yvlon, and Alais kept pace near the head of the group. Alais glanced at her; the Human woman was lost, but Yvlon and Ceria had gotten to know Liscor’s politics. And indeed, Hissle was more comfortable around them. He nodded as they climbed a rocky slope.
“Careful. Watch your step. Hold on—I need to map this. Our current area maps are good, but we want to be certain and to check there are no nests or hazards the [Map Makers] missed. Too bad an expert [Cartographer] didn’t come through here, but the Bloodfields aren’t exactly prime terrain. [Merchants] just go through the center in the winter, so…yeah, the Council’s got gold! Apparently the Antinium and the Walled Cities are donating a lot.”
He looked sideways at Ksmvr as he said that. The [Skirmisher] nodded helpfully.
“The Hive is rich.”
“How rich?”
“Well, my approximate understanding of our gold supply was—”
Ceria nudged Ksmvr. After a moment, Hissle went on, pointing ahead.
“Looks like the east has a viable path. Rocky in places, but there’s some good flat land. West is too grassy. I don’t like the odds of the Bloodfields or something spreading. Rocks? That damn stuff doesn’t like rocks by and large. We can cut a path going away from the Bloodfields just in case, then angle it once we’re well clear and shoot for Pallass. We might be on the winning path, folks.”
“It’s nearly four hundred miles from Liscor to Pallass. It’ll take years to do a route, surely?”
Yvlon was panting, sweating in her armor and the warm air. Hissle laughed.
“For a proper road, maybe. With stones and everything? Sure! But clearing a road and making sure two large wagons can roll unimpeded all the way? We can do that a lot faster. The Antinium have [Diggers] and our own teams can move dirt! [Merchants] will use this road if we do just that and ensure all the major hazards are out of the way.”
“Brave of them.”
Alais panted. Her team was wearing wood and chitin armor due to her imprecise control of lightning, but it was still heavy. Hissle called a halt to avoid them getting too winded.
“We’ll slow the pace. You need to be able to fight, after all. And is it brave, Captain Alais? I’ve seen [Merchant] caravan guards. They’re good! And they might even hire teams like yours to guard them.”
“Fair point. But looking at this, Hissle—it’s going to be a lot of work.”
They’d summited the rocky hill. Hissle nodded. Yvlon stared down and imagined someone having to shape the hillside to create a natural ramp a wagon could climb without extreme effort.
“It’ll be work. But paid work. And Pallass will help from their end too. In truth, we just need to get past the Bloodfields by about, oh, ten miles? Then we’ll hit Drake roads and we’re done! And Liscor will be connected to the south again.”
That did make it seem easier. And the tone in Hissle’s voice—Yvlon looked at him.
“You seem passionate about it, Hissle.”
He nodded.
“I volunteered to scout. Liscor wants the trade route, and so do I. I’m a native—grew up here. Served in the army, but not for long. I’ve been to Drake cities, though. The city needs it a lot more than Pallass does. Otherwise we can only trade by land when it’s late fall or winter. That’s why we’re called a border city, you know.”
He paused, staring across the landscape. In the distance, the Bloodfields were visible, a red stain on the land. All the teams were moving around it, searching for that path, east and west. Hissle stared darkly at the Bloodfields. Yvlon almost imagined she could see the red grass advancing, slowly, second by second, year by year.
“It didn’t use to be like this. There was a time when the Bloodfields were smaller. And they were less…active. But it’s growing. We should stop it for good, someday. But fire only makes it pause for a while.”
He shook his head.
“Come on. Let’s keep moving. I want to go a good distance before we report back. Shame we can’t use that teleportation door, but apparently it’s got a hefty mana limit. Just as well; I need to earn a living too!”
——
On they went. Yvlon began chatting on the march; it helped with the work. And she found herself talking with Thunder’s Solace and Alais. You couldn’t help it. She didn’t make up with Caddin, but she was eventually comfortable enough to laugh at a joke around him, and he could talk to her without having to look away.
It was something. And Yvlon was used to disputes between teams. The incident in the Guild hadn’t even been bad; it could get nasty. Soon, she and Alais were telling Ksmvr about the ‘good old days’, and their rivalry between teams.
“That bull, Calruz, he was always a pain to deal with. You know Walt? He and Calruz nearly had both their teams throw down over a dispute one time. Stupid idiots. Stan, now Stan’s great to work with. He’s led a team for longer than all of us put together.”
“Why is he not a high-level adventurer, then, Captain Alais?”
The [Aeromancer] looked uncomfortable.
“Safety, maybe? Stan’s got two kids, Ksmvr. He doesn’t take huge risks; he takes jobs that don’t end in him being dead. Being an adventurer’s a career for him; he earns a good amount, more than most jobs, and he can take more breaks. It’s smart for him. I hear he’s got a lot saved up.”
“Ah. May I infer by your omission then, that Crossbow Stan is not married?”
“…Yeah. His wife left him.”
“I see. Why?”
“Ksmvr, why don’t we move ahead? I’ll explain to you why that’s a touchy subject and why you’re never allowed to ask Stan that.”
Yvlon smiled at Alais. Relieved, she let Ksmvr and Yvlon move ahead. Ksmvr turned and Yvlon tried to explain heartbreak, infidelity, and the changing nature of affection to an Antinium who she was fairly certain had never been interested in the opposite sex. If there even was one besides his Queen. Wait—Ksmvr was male, right? She had seen him ‘nude’ and there wasn’t anything to actually see. He just wore clothing—
The Antinium was marching with Yvlon when she grew silent. He looked at her questioningly. Yvlon kept looking back at Ceria, laughing with Alais, and Thunder’s Solace. He looked at her arms, but she hadn’t been feeling at them.
“Is something wrong, Yvlon?”
Yvlon Byres hesitated. She bit her lip, looked at Ksmvr, and then spoke softly.
“Her name was Maise. But with an accent on the ‘e’. Maisé.”
“Who is Maisé?”
“My former teammate. Back when I was Captain of the Silver Spears.”
“Oh. I see.”
Yvlon shook her head. Her old friend’s face appeared in her mind. But the details were faded. It was harder to remember the exact curl in her hair, the way she stood. The sound of her voice. She went on. She’d never talked to Ksmvr about Maisé. But he had to now.
“She used a spear. We used to joke that she was the real leader of the Silver Spears since she was the only one on the team who actually used the weapon regularly.”
“I see.”
That was all he said. But he was listening. Yvlon looked at the Antinium.
“Did I ever tell you about the others?”
“No, Yvlon. You did not.”
She bit her lip and looked down. Veronika, Maisé, Dalia, and Samite. There had only been five of them, but they’d all been good. At least, Yvlon had thought so.
“Let me talk to you about them. For a bit. We were a team. Just last year. I wanted us to be like my brother’s team, the Silver Swords. We weren’t—we were good. That’s what I always thought. And if we kept training, if we got that one big windfall, we’d be Gold-rank. There were five of us. You see, back when I first wanted to become an adventurer—I knew Maisé growing up. She lived on Byres lands. We were always…”
She never forgot them. And she had never told anyone of how they died. She knew how Ceria had left her team. Fleeing, as Gerial bought her a moment of time. As her teammates fell around her. Calruz—disappearing, screaming as Skinner plucked his arm from his body. But Yvlon had been there too.
It haunted her dreams. Her failure. But now? Yvlon looked at Ksmvr. He listened to her every word. Trusted her. She looked back at Ceria, her friend, huffing as she ran along. Even Pisces. She wished he’d been here to bond with the other teams. But he was improving. She’d have a word with him, try to introduce him. She hoped Kam and the others would accept a [Necromancer].
She…had her team now. That was what mattered. But Yvlon still felt like she was back in the crypts sometimes. Watching her friends disappearing as they ran, fighting the undead, trying to reach for the surface.
I heard yours went down holding the line. If only that were entirely true. Was it cowardice, or practicality? Why was she the only one who’d made it? She was rich now. She had magical armor, a strong team…
But she hated it. Yvlon shook her head, realizing she’d fallen silent. She forced a smile at Ksmvr. He needed her, almost as much as she needed him.
“Hey, looks like we’re being called back. Let’s go join the others. And remember—no talking about Stan’s wife.”
“I will attempt to do so. May I talk about his children?”
It would get better. It had to. Without that, what did she have left? Yvlon laughed, and she joined her group. Her team. The infection would get better. It had to. She couldn’t let them down. Not again.
——
The adventurers had all finished their scouting by evening. It had been a solid…eight hours of work? From morning to evening! Yvlon was tired, but pleasantly so. There hadn’t been much trouble; six of the teams had run into monsters and her team had encountered a deer. Ksmvr had shot it, his reasoning being that they had a bag of holding. It was fresh meat and it had been a welcome meal for lunch, if wild. Yvlon wondered if Erin could make something of it.
“Alright. The [Scouts] will confer and help pick the route. By tomorrow, we’ll be sending more scouts and beginning preparations to build an actual road! We’re not dallying around; Olesm, [Master Builder] Reikhle, and our other experts will be working all night on this one! But you all earned your pay! Good work!”
Bevussa called out and the Silver-rank teams cheered. Yvlon saw gold being passed out; even if it was going to be split, it was a welcome sight. Ceria accepted hers and grinned, flashing some at Yvlon. Strange, how it was so good to see. They were rich. As soon as they got to Invrisil—
“Let’s get a drink, huh, guys? And some cake at Erin’s inn!”
The half-Elf called out to her team. But Alais stopped her as the teams began filing back towards the inn.
“Hey, Ceria. The team captains are going to have a drink in Liscor. Not your inn—somewhere private. Most of our teams will stay at the inn, but—you want to come? You and Yvlon?”
Ceria blinked. She looked at Yvlon. The armored woman stared at Alais. The [Aeromancer] was biting her lip and pointing. Stan, Kam, Walt—all of the team captains and some of the older adventurers were waiting in a small group by the door. Ceria hesitated.
“I uh—with all of you? What about?”
“Just—talking about the past. Recent events. Stan and I want to—all of us. If it’s alright. Your friend—Ksmvr?—can come. But we’d like to talk. The old crew.”
Yvlon looked at Alais’ flushed face. It couldn’t be easy to say that. Yvlon saw Ceria looking at her, her brows raised in silent inquiry. Yvlon hesitated, and then smiled. She reached out and touched Alais’ shoulder.
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
Alais looked up and smiled. Yvlon followed her with Ceria and Ksmvr to the other group. She looked at Walt, Kam, Stan—and all the others. And they nodded to her. She felt a strange sense of nostalgia. She felt welcomed again. She smiled.
“A drink? I know a good bar if we’re spending a lot of coin. If not, I know a few dives. Let’s hit the town; Erin’s got poor alcohol. Everything else is great, though. We’ll have a chat and then see a play and eat some cake.”
They laughed and agreed. Yvlon led the way through the magic door, smiling a bit. The adventurers left, closing the door, and leaving the grass, the wilderness in silence.
Up ahead, the Bloodfields rustled. The watching plants swayed in the breeze. The dark earth was silent. Few things moved. It was…almost inviting.
A dead bird lay on the ground, in a bare patch of land. It was freshly dead, an inviting meal. Some creatures might ignore the danger for a free snack like that. And indeed, one red russet fox, believing its fur coat was a good fit for the red grass, crept closer to the bird. It looked around, but the Bloodfields were silent.
There was no grass where the bird lay. And if the fox had been cautious—it missed the hole in the center of the body. It was food. So it darted ahead, rushing towards the bird, prepared to grab it and dart back into cover. It passed under the watchful aegis of a tall, thin plant. With a strange bulb near the top. The fox pattered forwards. It snatched the bird in its jaws.
A tendril stabbed out of the ground, spearing the foolish fox through the abdomen. It jerked—stopped moving. Its blood ran onto the soil as the tendril lowered back into the ground. The dead fox’s corpse remained, to feed the soil and attract other unwary scavengers. The Watchertree absorbed the blood, its wide root system feasting.
Silence again. And death. All that lived here was made of the Bloodfields, or dangerous enough to resist the death here. The adventurers had gone. Food had gone. But food would be back. Few things dared to live around the Bloodfields. But what did live was dangerous. And the Bloodfields were just as deadly. Food would return.
The Bloodfields waited.
6.57
The Bloodfields waited. Yvlon Byres strode down the street towards The Wandering Inn with her team, following Bevussa Slenderscale, Captain of the Wings of the Pallass. That was, unless the Wings of Pallass were talking to Drakes in a walled city. To the investors and influential Drakes, Issa was in fact the team’s captain and Bevussa was the pretty Garuda, what a wonderful show of inclusivity, my word yes.
But while the Horns of Hammerad left the city, anyone with eyes and the ability to count would note that only three of them were walking together. The fourth member of the current team was conspicuously absent. Pisces, the [Necromancer], wasn’t among the adventurers. Nor, as Erin Solstice discovered, was he in her inn, studying, as was his wont.
In fact, he was walking through Liscor at the same time as his team, albeit removed from them. Pisces was walking next to a shorter Drake, whose light green scales were flashing in the sunlight. She was dressed colorfully, at odds with Pisces’ white, plain robes.
The two were walking together, talking. Arguing, perhaps, but still in each other’s company. They were going shopping.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset. It’s not as if I forced you to leave the inn. We’re on a small outing. It’s a favor to me. Can you not act as though I’m sacrificing your mother?”
Selys’ tone was annoyed as she glanced up at Pisces. He sniffed, a feature which all of his friends were well acquainted with. His tone was far more acerbic than hers.
“Of course. A simple excursion which merited dragging me away from my pressing studies!”
“You could have said no.”
The Drake reminded Pisces sharply. He paused and glowered, but then sullenly turned his head.
“I consider it a favor.”
“Well, then, be pleasant. Ancestors, why do you have to be so snippy? You’re like a child sometimes, you know that, Pisces?”
He inhaled, his cheeks flushing with outrage. The two were moving down the street, drawing amused or annoyed glances—mainly from Gnolls passing them by. The problem with a heated argument was that a Gnoll could follow it for at least a block or two if they didn’t tune it out. This one had been going for five minutes.
But unusually to anyone who knew Pisces, he didn’t respond with a scathing remark or look. Partly because Selys was more than capable of firing back. But partly because, well—he sighed.
“My apologies. I’ve simply been low on sleep these last few days, Selys.”
She nodded, accepting Pisces’ mild look of chagrin. There it was. The Pisces that few people could command to appear. It was like he had two faces, the sneering one he often presented, and the one who could actually apologize. That Pisces only appeared for his friends; everyone else had to work past the first Pisces. Few did. The two stopped arguing and settled down, slowing the pace of their walk.
“More undead construction issues? You kept moaning about how crossbow skeletons are impossible last time we talked.”
“What? Oh, that. That was an experiment. Partially successful I’ll have you know. But my current issues are far more complex. I ah, have two projects going on. Studying, really.”
“Stuck on another spell? It’s like [Mages] have to study all their lives just to use their fancy magic. Worse than [Warriors]. I couldn’t handle it.”
The [Necromancer] sniffed and caught himself. He shrugged awkwardly.
