We carefully made our way around the valley, paying attention to our surroundings. We had no way of knowing whether the wolves in the forest had all joined the attack on the orcs or if there were some left, just waiting to take a bite out of us. Prudence and vigilance was what would keep us alive, so it was used in spades.

It also allowed me to see the valley from different angles, or rather, not see it. The mist Lenore and I had conjured up was still lingering, despite the fact that my connection to it had fully faded. Despite that, there was still power lingering within, my nose detecting hints of ice-, darkness-, blood- and death-magic, all woven into a powerful weave of pain and death.

Reaching out, I could detect some lingering pain and fear, not powerful enough to affect me, at least as long as I stayed clear of the mist, but strong enough to remain. There was no doubt that using a blood-sacrifice, effectively torturing that one centaur to death in an attempt to bolster my spell had worked, maybe a little too well. I made a mental note not to talk about it, just the idea of sacrificing people in magical rituals, especially if the ritual depended on torturing them to death, would get me a kind of infamy I didn’t want.

It was the difference between being dark and mysterious on one hand or evil and dangerous on the other side. It was a subtle difference but it was one that I wanted to keep, if only because of marketing and public relations. If I wanted to make money from my content and the Character of Morgana, it needed to be one people wanted to be associated with. Dark and mysterious was good and easily sellable in a positive light, insane and evil not so much.

Not that those considerations would stop me from exploring the different ways of magic, even those others would instantly classify as evil, I would only attempt to keep those experiments out of the public eye.

But our vigilance was not needed, the forest remained quiet, only some noise from the valley drifting up to us.

“Take care when climbing down, the orcs made sure that hurrying would be a bad idea.” Adra warned Sigmir and me, carefully guiding us down the slope. I noticed that Sigmir stayed close to me, making sure that I wouldn’t fall, even if I happened to stumble. Part of me was grateful for the gesture, another part wanted to prove that I could very well walk on my own, even if I was exhausted. In any case, I was grateful for Adra’s warning, while the slope wasn’t a deathtrap by any stretch of imagination, a combination of sharp caltrops and sturdy, wooden stakes waiting at the bottom made a charge downhill, with tremendous momentum, a suicidal tactic. It was a fact a few wolves had obviously learned the hard way, their bodies still impaled on the stakes, bleeding into the grass beneath them. Some of the wolves had been removed by the orcs, a task still ongoing, but it was obvious that the orcs had first taken care of their wounded, before starting to take care of their enemies' carcasses.

And wounded they had suffered, wounded and dead, judging by the bandages and a few orcs having their faces covered with their cloaks, vicious wounds visible on their bodies. A quick count told me that half of Dura Firebringer’s force had been wounded and maybe fifteen percent of them killed. Quite serious losses, especially if one considered that Lenore and I had taken the centaurs pretty much out of the battle before they were ever able to fight. If the orcs had attempted to fight the battle head-on, they would all be dead, or fleeing, hunted down by wolves in the woods and centaurs in the open. I doubted that any of the orcs would have been able to escape.

“I see you made it.” Sakgu, the scout we had met a few days prior, said, almost welcoming.

“We did our part of the plan and I can see that you did yours.” I simply stated in response, not wanting to get into it with anyone, not as exhausted as I was.

“And for that I have to thank you.” Dura Firebringer added, stepping up from her position nearby, where she had been staring into a fire.

“I gave my word.” I replied, keeping to myself that I would have no trouble breaking my word, if it was to protect Sigmir. She was a lot more important to me than any nebulous concept as honour could ever be.

“That you did.” she nodded, before turning towards the valley. “How long will the magic last? Some of my orcs ventured into the mist but didn’t get far before turning back. I could break your spell but it would take quite a bit out of me, something I don’t want to do while there might be still enemies lurking in the woods.” she asked, some insecurity in her voice, making me wonder just how certain she was that she’d be able to break my spellwork. At the same time, her question brought me into a bit of a conundrum, as I simply didn’t know the answer.

“It will last throughout the night, until sunrise.” I answered, faking confidence, hoping that the hot summer-sun would be enough to burn away the cold mist. It should be, but even if not, I would be able to rest until then, regaining enough Astral Power and mental strength to condense the spell into a solid, that I could take with me.

With that in mind, I decided that I wanted to try that anyway, simply because a substance born from death, pain and destruction might be a useful resource in the future, if I was able to harness it. If not, there would be no loss, letting the power I had felt remain in the valley served no purpose, other than intimidating Dura even further, which wasn’t necessary at this point. She had seen what I was able to do, so the idea that an undying being of my power was out there, looking for revenge, should quell any thought of double-crossing us. Fear was a useful tool at times.

“So cold…” I heard a different voice, accompanied by the clattering of teeth, which drew my attention. It wasn’t something I normally expected to hear during a warm summer-night, making it stand out to me. Looking around, I noticed a sitting orc nearby, hugging himself, staring at me with wide open eyes. He was talking, almost under his breath, muttering about the cold and dark wings, causing me to raise an eyebrow towards Dura Firebringer.

“Your allies escorted some of the captives out. Your voice seems to have imprinted on them, and not in a good way.” Dura remarked, looking to the shaking orc. “But be that as it may, with your magic unravelling in the morning, we’ll search the camp at that time. There is no way I’ll send my troops into that mist, not without need, not while there might be enemies still lurking.” Dura decided, not looking too happy about it. But I could understand, trying to explore an enemies camp, with bad visibility, an ever-present fear-aura and possibly lingering enemies was a good way to lose people.

“We’ll see you in the morning.” I simply told her, before moving on, towards a relatively empty part of the camp, planning to simply sleep for a while. I was still exhausted and had no doubt that the rest of my party had to be getting tired as well. Sure, they hadn’t cast a major spell but they had been fighting, had been marching and had protected my back.

We quickly set up a crude camp, simply a spot to rest, and Sigmir pulled me onto her lap, wrapping her arms around me once more.

“Sleep, love. I’ll keep watch over you.” she told me, while Lenore, who had been sleeping on my shoulder the whole time, was jostled by her actions, waking up with a soft caw of protest. For a moment, we communicated over our connection, whether she wanted to return to her Hallow or what the best way to rest was. While we still were mentally a little sore or raw, for lack of better words, she decided that her Hallow was where she wanted to be and shifted inside. I shuddered from the sensation, the connections in my mind simply too sensitive, but once she was in, she simply curled into a mental ball, giving me only the faintest mental impressions.

Following her example, I decided that the world in general could do without me for a while and snuggled against Sigmir’s chest, closing my eyes. Moments later, I was out like a light, sleeping the sleep of the truly exhausted.