As they walked, Gase saw Holin loosen the straps on the leather bracer of his right arm. He shook his arm a bit to test it before pulling out a short dagger from his belt. He then slipped the blade, hilt first, into the cuff of the long-sleeved leather shirt he wore underneath the leather and pushed it up.

Holin moved his arm around a bit before flicking it down. The dagger shot out at the motion and his fingers closed on the hilt just in time. Seemingly satisfied, Holin returned the blade to its hiding place in his sleeve.

Gase glanced over at the boy. "We should drop off Hadi first."

Holin glanced back as well. The boy followed right behind them and looked up at the mention of his name but kept walking regardless.

"Let him come if he wants to," Holin said. "I don't think there is going to be any trouble. If there is, it won't last more than a moment."

"Can you beat the mage in a fight?" Gase asked. Holin might have been the best fighter he had seen, but he had seen what the citylord's mage had done with the snap of her fingers.

"In a straight-up fight, both armed and ready? Hell no."

Gase looked at him in surprise.

"Let me give you some advice," Holin said to him. "If you are going to fight a mage, don't. Quite simple, really. You can never know what they're capable of. This goes doubly for people like you and me who have to get in close. If you were an archer, you might still get away if your shot failed.

Magic has a range. Past a certain distance, things can't actively be affected anymore. A stone hurled by magic will still continue on its way, but that's it. When close though, a mage can have great control over their surroundings. Some more than others, of course, but mages tend to keep their capabilities hidden. You won't know you made a mistake until it's too late. Many might prefer research, but a true battlemage is a scary sight. And I don't use that word often."

Gase stared at him, processing the blatant admission. "So, all that shit about you being there meant nothing?"

"Not at all," Said Holin with a grin. "If you absolutely have to face a mage in a closeup fight, then you have to end it before he realises it's a fight to begin with. The moment the situation seem irredeemable, I just need a moment. Perhaps have him focus on my sword for an instant. That's all it'll take for my dagger to reach his eye."

"And if you miss?"

Holin laughed. "Then we're fucked. Exciting, isn't it? In any case, having the boy there might be beneficial. I mean, who would start a fight with a kid around? Certainly not us."

Gase glanced at Hadi again, who seemed unfazed by what he heard. "You still want to come with us?"

The boy looked at him and nodded. Gase sighed. It still didn't sit right with him. But if everything did go wrong, who would look after Hadi? Enmon wouldn't, he only seemed to accept people who pulled their own weight and tolerated Hadi only because of Gase. He doubted Aesmin would either. The way he saw it, she was too used to being on her own to tie herself down with that responsibility.

Gase took a closer look at the mage's caravan as they approached. It stood a bit apart from the rest, and there were few people around, even given the fact that many were still at the lines on the other side of camp.

The caravan itself was big, with four wheels and a wooden frame and 'roof'. Over the frame, large plates of bronze were mounted, creating the four walls of the caravan. On these plates, runes were inscribed, flowing into one another in what appeared to be a chaotic manner. Gase glanced up at the late morning sun, wondering how hot it would be in the caravan.

A few strides away, two d'yari were grazing on the plants that grew in the clearing and near them was the apprentice. She seemed to have abandoned the driver's bench in favour of the shade of a tree, under which she was paging through a hefty tome.

Gase motioned for Holin with his head and walked towards her. He came to a stop in front of her, but she didn't seem to notice. The situation was so similar to their first meeting that a slight smile crept onto his face. He cleared his throat.

Her head darted up, and she stared blankly at him for a moment. Then she frowned. "What do— wait, your that man! The one Lerann brought back!"

"Yes. I am," Gase said, assuming she referred to the mage.

"You're alive! Well of course your alive, but I mean, you survived. The horde. Wait, Lerann will want to hear this, stay right there," The young woman said and ran towards the caravan to pound on the door.

"One wonders how anything will get past her," Holin commented.

The door opened, and a pair of green eyes peered out, the dark circles underneath them showing a lack of sleep. "What is it, girl?"

"Master Lerann, subject nine is here, he just appeared while I was going over the work," she said, the words coming out in a rush.

The mage followed her pointing finger to Gase, his eyes widening before a smile stretched across his face. Then his eyes landed on Holin, and the smile turned into a frown. "And who is this?"

"That…" The woman started to answer when she finally noticed Holin. He gave her a little wave.

"Holin of the Order of Thal," the hunter said with a grin. "I have an interest in subject nine here and his… unique circumstances."

"Of course you have," The mage said matter-of-factly, though there was a hint of disapproval in his voice. "I barely had one success, and already people are knocking on my door. I imagine my resurrection would be quite a help to an organisation such as yours. The spell is not ready and, when it is, it'll be released to all who wish it. You'll have to wait until then."

"Ah, that's not exactly why I am here," Holin said.

The mage eyed him sceptically, and Holin nodded to Gase.

Well, no turning back now.

Gase thought and took a breath. "The spell didn't work."

"What do you mean it didn't work?" The mage asked with a frown. "You are here, are you not? Still breathing and moving about."

"I'm not the one you were trying to bring back," Gase clarified. "I thought I was at first. But Y'rid, the man who came to you, died. I'm someone else."

A few moments passed as the mage stared at him with a blank expression.

"That's impossible!" His apprentice exclaimed. "Resurrection acts on the connection between the body and the spirit. It can't retrieve a spirit that wasn't connected to the dead person's body. Right?"

She looked towards her master for confirmation, but the man simply stared at Gase. Finally, he shook his head. "How do you know you're not the one?"

"I've remembered things. Things the Y'rid never experienced. People he never met. A language he didn't speak."

The mage began pacing up and down along the caravan, moving slowly as he spoke. "Memories are constructed by the mind. Delusions are not uncommon among people who underwent something harrowing. The original spell must have mitigated such things. It is possible that those safety measures were weakened with the changes. Flaws are to be expected really. Perhaps the problem lies in the array's core? Some of the connections might not have been correctly closed."

"This is no delusion. I know I'm not him," Gase said, stressing the word.

"Hmm? Of course you would think that. That's how delusions work. It's not your fault. A mind can only take so much after all. We'll have to go through the details, I'll need them."

Gase could hardly believe what he was hearing. All this time, he had been worried about what the mage might do if he discovered the truth. Now that the man found out, he didn't believe him and didn't seem to care. The mage seemed sure of his conclusion. That it was what? Some figment of his imagination?

Gase's hand went to the hilt of his sword by impulse, and he squeezed the grip. He knew it wasn't. He could hear the joyful laughter of the little girl, he could see the woman's smile as she welcomed him home, he could feel his muscles burning as he trained with his father.

This wasn't some fucking delusion.

"Let me interject here," Holin said, drawing the attention of the mage. "You want him to answer your questions. He'll do it. Everything and anything. But we have something we want as well."

The mage's eye's narrowed. "In case you are not aware, this young man and I had an agreement. An agreement he has already been paid for."

"Half," Gase said. "You paid me half of what was promised."

"There you have it," Holin said with an amiable smile. "Half paid for half of the work done. The greater half, I think you would agree. Besides we're not asking much, just a simple healing."

The mage blinked. Then he looked from Gase to Holin. "A healing? Neither of you seems to be in need of it."

Holin stepped closer to the mage and pulled Gase with him. He turned to Gase and looked at him expectantly.

Fine.

He pulled up his shirt. He wasn't planning on getting the mage's help until a short while ago anyway. If the man could heal whatever Holin seemed to think this was, then he would answer the mage's questions and continue as he did.

"These marks here," Holin said, pointing at the black spots.

The mage looked at him with incredulity. "Those tiny markings? That's what you want me to heal?"

Holin shrugged. "Should be easy, no?"

The mage shook his head and waved his hand in Gase's direction. A faint white glow emanated from Gase's chest. At the same time, he felt a warmth spreading over his whole body. The shallow cuts on his arms left by his sparring with Holin began to tighten. He scratched at them, unable to help himself. The thin lines of dried blood flaked away easily, leaving pink skin behind. The feeling faded, and Gase found himself staring at his arm, his previous irritation completely forgotten.

"It didn't work," came Holin's voice, breaking Gase out of his thoughts. He looked at the hunter and saw him staring at his chest. Following the man's eyes, he saw that the black dots remained where they were.

The mage frowned at the marks. He held his hand out towards Gase and the warmth returned, more intense this time. It abruptly stopped as the Mage pulled his hand back, the white glow ending immediately.

The mage gawked at the marks, the bewilderment plain upon his face.

"…Master Lerann?" His apprentice asked.

"It…," the mage's voice trailed off. "Ivy, use that spell I taught you."

The woman nodded held out her hands. She closed her eyes, a look of intent concentration appearing on her face. The mage pulled his eyes away from the spots and turned to her after nothing happened. He clicked his tongue when he saw her.

"Just use the inscription, girl," he said impatiently. "It took me a long time before I could do it without."

The woman sighed and opened her eyes. Around her neck, a pendant began to glow. Again, Gase felt the warmth rise in his chest, much slower than before, before it cut off abruptly. The woman's eyes widened. She opened her mouth and closed it again.

"Well?" The mage asked.

"It just… fell away."

"Hmm," The mage mused while stroking his chin. "How long have you had these marks?"

"I don't know," Gase said warily. "I noticed them yesterday morning. Why? What is wrong?"

"Just noticed them?" The mage grimaced. "Have there been any changes to them since then?"

"I'm not sure, maybe…"

"What?"

"I thought they might have gotten bigger, but I can't be sure. Honestly, they are barely noticeable as it is. Do you know what it is?"

The mage once again began pacing while muttering to himself. Gase looked towards the apprentice, Ivy, and waved to get her attention.

"Do you know this is about?" He asked.

She looked at him for a moment before shaking her head.

The mage suddenly came to a halt and spun to Gase. "This delusion of yours. You said you didn't have it at first? It manifested later?"

"I realised later that your spell had failed, yes."

"Right. Come with me then."

The mage stepped back into the caravan and Gase followed after a glance towards Holin who came after him. Hadi and Ivy, not willing to be left out, also entered.

The caravan was three strides across and about five long but, with all of them inside, it was cramped. Especially considering that much of the space was already taken by a small desk, a chair, a narrow bed and various other things that were secured on racks on the walls. Strange glass containers with long twisting necks. Vials containing liquids of different colours. Tomes and scrolls, packed onto shelves and covering the desk.

The most conspicuous was the large stone coffin lying against the far wall, beneath a small window that looked out on the driver's bench outside. The stone was dark and smooth, seeming to draw the eye. Its simple and unadorned nature felt more like a statement than anything else. This made the runes on its lid look all the more out of place.

The mage immediately headed to a chest that he opened and rifled through before pulling out a round, flat, cloth-covered object. He grunted as he placed the thing onto the bed and unfolded the cloth to reveal a silver disk that Gase would barely be able to wrap his arms around. On this also was a sprawling mass of runes.

"Put this on the ground and sit in the middle of it. And don't drop it." The mage said and handed the disk to Gase, who took it with a bit of effort and sat it down on the floor.

"What does it do?" He asked, not really expecting an answer.

"It is an exceptional rune array," The mage said, surprising him. "It strengthens the connection between the spirit and the body. A healing method created by Alenin himself."

Gase sat down cross-legged on the disk while the mage took the chair. Holin moved up to stand against the wall of the caravan to get a better view, giving Gase a small nod as he did so.

"Now just relax," the mage said as his eyes gained a far-off look, as though they were looking through him. 'It might feel strange, or you might not feel anything, it depends on the individual."

Gase glanced down as the disk below him lit up, the visible runes at the edges starting to glow with an ever-brighter light. Gase flinched as his head began to tingle. The sensation built until it felt as though bugs were crawling around inside his skull. He gritted his teeth against the feeling and tightened his hands around his knees, trying to keep himself from ripping off his scalp. Then he felt something tug at his mind. A memory. Grateful for the distraction, he hurled himself into it.

His arms were wrapped around Lae as she laid back against his chest. He could smell the scent of her hair as they both looked towards the nearby riverbank. They watched as their daughter played in the water, periodically catching the small mud crabs and bring them back to show off her prizes.

Until one of the larger ones had pinched her finger. She had come running towards them with tears streaming down her cheeks. A short while later she was back on the riverbank tears forgotten as she tried to catch more. Her face contorted with overt joy, surprise and concentration, switching between them as only a child could.

Gase felt a smile stretch across his face as he watched her discover the world, one step at a time.

"Can't we just stay here forever?" Lae asked as she closed her eyes.

Gase chuckled, enjoying the moment as the warmth of the sun shone down onto his arms. He looked towards the riverbank—

Gase snapped back as the light faded below him. He looked around, his eyes landing on the mage who was looking at him.

"Send me back," He said immediately.

"Hmm?" The mage asked, meeting his eyes.

"Send me back," Gase repeated, a hint of desperation entering his voice. "Whatever you just did, do it again."

"Another part of that 'memory' of yours, I wager?" The mage asked with interest. Gase opened his mouth to speak.

"You know what's causing this, mage?" Holin interrupted.

Something in his voice made Gase look at the man. He saw the hunter staring back intently at him. No, not at him. He followed the man's gaze to his chest where he could see the black marks. This time they were clearly bigger.

Gase ran a finger over them, but it still felt no different than the rest of his skin. No pain, no sensitivity, nothing.

"I have my suspicions," The mage answered. "But we'll have to make sure it wasn't a fluke first."

"How do you feel?" Holin asked, the question directed at him this time.

"I'm fine," Gase answered. "I want to continue."

"Very good," The mage said. "Again. Try to relax."

Once more, the runes on the disk lit up, bring back with it the mental itch that seemed to pervade his mind. Gase winced and pressed his hands against the side of his head in an effort to alleviate the feeling until he felt something tug at his consciousness.

He gripped his longsword and raised it as the wave of flesh, bone, leather and steel cleared the distance. Time seemed to slow down, stretching warcries into strange bellows born of fear and rage. A flash of lightning cut through the dark storm clouds above, the accompanying thunder mocking the pitiful voices of men.

In the flash of light, he saw Tems to his left, raising his sword and shield, the rain glinting on the blade. He noticed the shield was raised a bit too high, a habit Gase had tried to correct many times. To his right, another man raised a spear in calloused hands more suited to wielding a pitchfork. The laugh lines on the man's face were twisted as he shouted his defiance. Gase wondered if the man's friends and family had ever seen his current expression.

It was strange; the things you noticed at the end.

His eyes focused on the northerners charging at them. He could make out the expressions, a mixture of bloodlust and fear.

Why?

More land? Riches plundered from the dead? What use were such things if you weren't alive to enjoy them?

His questions were lost, along with any potential answers as the sides met. The incomprehensible shouts and curses mixing together in a deafening cacophony of noise as he added his own.

A sword flashed downward, without form or technique, as the wielder sought only to inflict as much harm as possible. Experience took over as Gase stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade while driving his own through the cracked leather armour of the enemy.

The shout of rage from the assailant turned to a screech of pain as he ripped out the sword from the man's chest in a spray of blood. He stepped past the falling man leaving the killing blow to those behind him as he slashed, aiming for the neck of the next man.

By some stroke of luck, the man slipped on the blood-soaked ground, causing the blade to flash past his eyes. But the man's luck didn't last long as Gase's follow up kick took him square in the face, knocking him unto his back before a spear nailed him to the ground as he wailed.

He spared the man no more attention as he raised his sword to deflect the incoming swing of an axe aimed at his face. The shock of the blow ran through his arms as he barely managed to alter the axe's path enough to miss him.

He stepped forward once more, regaining his stance as he swung the sword across the axe wielders legs, dropping him to his knees. He raised his sword, about to strike at the man's neck when a sharp pain tore through his side. Reflexively he turned his head to see the shaft of a spear sticking out from between his ribs. Then it was ripped from his side, forcing a shout of agony from between his clenched teeth.

The axe wielder didn't let the chance go by as he slammed the axe against Gase's knee. The rough blow was struck with the flat of the axehead, but the weight behind it was enough and Gase's leg gave way with a sickening crack.

He dropped his sword as he fell to one knee. He reached out to steady himself against the ground and saw the axe coming in to finish what it started. It was blocked by Tems's shield as his friend engaged the opponent.

Gase saw another man charging at him and pushed himself up on his good leg, his other screaming in pain. The northerner led with a thrust and Gase was barely able to twist out of the way. He grabbed onto the man's extended arm and pulled him into a hug. Yanking out the dagger on his belt, he plunged it into the man's neck. The liquid was warm as it sprayed across his face.

The man fell, dragging him as well as his shattered knee gave in once more. Nearly blinded in pain and blood, he pushed himself into a kneeling position. A sense of danger, honed many times over, warned him and he looked up to just in time to see the spear thrusting towards his head.

An image of his little girl flashed through his mind. Then the world went dark.

Gase opened his eyes and pushed himself up unsteadily. He could hear voices asking questions, but they felt far away. Far away and so very insignificant. He pushed his way out of the caravan, pulling free of a hand that reached out to him. He stumbled as he hit the ground but kept to his feet.

He walked, dragging his hands through his hair as he did so. He needed to move. Distantly, he noticed the few people who were around giving him strange glances. He ignored them. Only one thing was going through his mind.

I died.

Two simple words, yet not something you would ever expect to say. In retrospect, he realised he had been avoiding the possibility. Even though he had been resurrected, he had thought maybe the mage had somehow yanked him from his old life.

There was a finality in that memory. And it was a memory, he was sure, no matter what the mage might say. He could still feel a phantom pain in his knee and side. He could taste the blood of the soldier he had slain.

He paced, up and down. What did this mean for him? What did this mean for the woman and girl, his wife and daughter? Did they think him dead? He needed to find them. Maybe he could use the battle to get a location for them?

He didn't know. Thoughts swirling in his mind as he paced, but he didn't stop, not after that. At some point, he noticed the black marks on his chest had increased in size once more. What was once tiny black pinpricks had grown to the size of a fingernail. The twelve spots began below his collar and curved down, first inwards then out, to finally end at his hip.

Just one more question on the growing list.