Mana Soul: Chapter 37 - The Ambush - Markus

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Markus had not expected the Skalisberg soldiers to be so readily accommodating. He was currently sitting on a padded cushion alongside the quartermaster on the soldiers covered supply wagon. The quartermaster, Sven, was a pleasant fellow and seemed glad for the company. Since Aela’s presence near the front of the wagon was somewhat spooking the horses, she was sitting in the wagon’s rear bed instead.

Markus found Sven’s stories of raising northern hounds in the family kennels to be incredibly interesting despite the quartermaster’s profound insistence on the mundanity of it all. Similarly, Sven seemed incredibly interested in Markus’s relationship with the chimaeras. More curious than judgemental, Sven provided northern folk tales or children stories to contextualize his more probing questions on chimaera behaviour. Given the gruesome trend in the stories, Markus was surprised Sven was so open-minded.

As time wore on, they exhausted one another’s curiosity, at least for the time being, and settled into long easy silences where they just watched the clouds drift by overhead or the seemingly infinite trees passing them by.

“It looks like it is going to rain, don’t you think?” Sven asked conversationally.

Markus looked up and nodded. The sky was covered with grey clouds that were growing darker by the minute. “Will it cause problems for the wagon?” Markus asked curiously, not having much experience with horse-drawn transportation at the best of times.

Sven was quiet for a moment as he assessed the hilly forest terrain around them, “I reckon that the wagon will get mired in mud if it rains in earnest. The lads will very likely have to push it free a dozen or more times before we make camp this evening, at the least.”

Although the rank and file soldiers did not particularly mind Markus riding the supply wagon at the moment, their attitude would likely change for the worse after marching all day soaked by the rain and caked in cold mud.

Contrary to their expectations, the downpour didn’t begin until after the soldiers started making camp. Since the wagon was carrying the tents and other necessary supplies, Markus and Aela had to temporarily take shelter beneath a tree while the soldiers unload the wagon. This was one of the few times Markus was willing to take advantage of his noble title and inherently implied privileges. Besides, he figured he wouldn’t be much help anyway.

Sven had assured Markus that he and Aela would be welcome to spend the night in the wagon after the soldiers unloaded it, and Markus graciously accepted. The prospect of sleeping on the wet muddy ground was about as appealing as chewing boot leather.

Left with little else to do besides waiting, Markus let his mind wander a little while sharing a large northern fur-lined cloak with Aela to keep them both warm. He still found it difficult to believe how radically his life had changed since first meeting Aela and her mother. Despite the blatant opportunism on both sides, somehow they had made it work.

According to Peabody’s reports, the preparations for seizing the great valley were making steady headway. Acquiring the necessary supplies and labour for establishing the staging point in the castle did not seem to be much of a problem. The main issue Peabody was having at the moment was sourcing a reliable supply of human-sized dolls that met the required standards for serving as combat golems.

Naturally, Markus and Peabody had not expected anyone to have a ready supply of combat-capable human-sized dolls in stock for them to purchase. However, finding artisans capable of achieving the required standard and output of production was proving difficult. Even after giving the elderly tinker couple a full set of enchanted tools and a magically powered lathe and saw, they could only manage to produce one suitable doll each per day.

Peabody had suggested creating several golems with the specific purpose of assisting the production of the dolls that would later become golems. The prospect of the golems making other golems still left Markus feeling incredibly uneasy. However, given the scale of the endeavour before them and the necessity of the golems in ensuring their success, Markus eventually relented and permitted Peabody to dedicate ten golems to doll production.

That had been about a week ago. Peabody’s latest update an hour ago informed Markus that the doll manufacturing golems each currently averaged two combat standard golems per day.

Initially shocked by the difference in output between the wizened craftsmen and his novice level golems, Markus realised that he had overlooked one critical detail. Golems do not tire or sleep, and so long as they have mana, can perform designated tasks indefinitely.

Peabody had also established another source of golems through the Chapter-Master of the adventurers guild. In exchange for providing the base bodies, every third golem created would be leased to the guild for a year. With the added provision that golems leased to the adventurers guild would not incur mana replenishment fees when restoring their mana, the guild Chapter-Master had allegedly leapt at the opportunity and signed the contract on the spot.

All told, Peabody now seemed quite confident in acquiring roughly one hundred and seventy completed doll bodies to enchant into golems per week. The limiting factor had now become sourcing mana to animate and maintain the golems. Peabody strongly endorsed the idea of replicating the methods used in Endem to other towns and cities across the continent, and Markus was inclined to agree.

The next problem was getting the mana to where it was needed, which was currently the town of Endem. Peabody was presently negotiating with the adventurers guild to make it happen.

Similar to the guild’s communication relay network, Markus wanted to establish waystation towers to form a conduit that would allow transferring collected mana around the continent as needed. Under the pretence of distributing mana to the Artifice Invigoration Stations installed in different guild locations, Markus and Peabody would be able to push the adventurers guild to endorse the building of the towers and enforce their protection from attempted vandalism.

Having the endorsement of the adventurers guild would give the towers a protected status. Considering how important the mana would be for the guild's own revenue and status.

Markus froze, a familiar tingle running down his spine. Looking around for the source of the danger, he couldn’t spy anything out of place.

“Is there danger?” Aela asked warily, darting her tongue and tasting the air as she scanned the forest around them.

“I swear I felt something just now,” Markus explained hurriedly, a growing sense of foreboding growing in his chest.

As uneasy as he felt, the soldiers around them showed no signs of feeling the same, making Markus feel worse.

With the sky overcast with dark clouds and drizzling rain, he couldn’t help but imagine something was lurking just out of sight. Markus couldn’t take his eyes off the sky. Every fibre of his being had him convinced that the danger would come from above.

Following his lead, Aela turned her attention skyward as well.

Some of the nearby soldiers had become anxious and were giving Markus uncertain looks as they worked. It became enough of an issue that Sven stopped directing the soldiers and made his way over to see what was wrong.

“Ah, my lord?” Sven asked tentatively. Nervous enough that he had reverted to using Markus’s formal title.

Markus sighed somewhat dispiritedly. It had taken the better part of the day to convince the quartermaster to drop the sirs and my lords, and now all that progress had gone down the drain.

“Is there perhaps a reason for his lordship to be so anxious?” Sven asked, wringing his hands together as much to warm them from the chill as to express his nervousness.

Initially unsure whether Sven would take his intuition seriously, Aela spared Markus the decision.

“Markus can sense nearby monsters!” Aela stated warily.

Sven’s eyes grew wide with worry, “This is true?”

Markus nodded uncomfortably, still unsure what he could say to convince the quartermaster without coming across as a complete coward or a superstitious idiot. As Markus understood it, he was such a profound coward that Markus could sense a monster’s killing intent the moment it decided he was its prey.

Thankfully, Sven did not need much convincing. Turning on his heel, he quickly ran off to find the commander while barking an order of combat readiness to every soldier he passed.

Thinking that there had to be a better way than just relying on his eyes, Markus remembered the guild enchantments used for detecting dungeons. Like the sight-based enchantment that allowed the golems to see monster mana, the homing magic served a function similar to a compass. When calibrated at low sensitivity, the enchantment would only detect the largest sources of monster mana. However, if Markus calibrated the sensitivity higher, he figured it should locate nearby monsters instead of a dungeon further afield.

Confident that he had more skill than the artificers employed by the guild. Markus busily set about adding the enchantment to his tablet. Unlike the guild golem enchantment, Markus had made sure to exclude hybrid chimaera mana from the detection criteria.

Carefully watching his tablet, Markus saw the image of an arrow slowly spinning in a counterclockwise direction. Looking up and in the direction the arrow was pointing, he was disappointed to find that he still couldn’t see anything. “Perhaps the monster was still quite far away?” Markus wondered aloud.

Aela moved closer to see what he was talking about, “This is?-Oh! Have you made an artifice to detect the monster?” Aela asked, clearly impressed and demonstrating how far her own comprehension of artifices had come in their time together.

Markus nodded, “But I still can’t see it. Can you?” He looked pointedly in the direction indicated by the arrow.

Aela followed the arrow as well and hissed in annoyance, “If it is a flying monster, perhaps it is circling low to the treetops,” she turned to the tree they had been using for shelter and began climbing upwards from branch to branch.

Quickly reaching the top of the tree, Aela earnestly began looking around their surroundings for the monster. Almost immediately, her attention shifted to the north. Sparing no time to climb back down from the tree, Aela let go and jumped straight down instead. Slowing her descent by swinging off larger branches, she landed on her feet with little apparent difficulty.

The look of worry on Aela’s face made it clear they did not have much time, “There is a flock of wyverns encircling us!” She declared anxiously while retrieving the bag containing his armour.

“Wyverns?” Markus hadn’t heard of that monster before, and besides the assumption that it could fly, he knew nothing else about it.

“Large flying lizards that breathe fire. Some have spines or barbed hooks on their tails. Both are poisonous, so don’t let them touch you!” Aela replied earnestly as she quickly helped Markus into his brigandine.

“Got it,” Markus tried his best to sound more confident than he felt. Inwardly, he was lamenting the absence of the twins and their implacable throwing arms. With only a vague description to work off of, his imagination was already running wild. How big did Aela consider to be large exactly? Were the wyverns the size of a man? A horse? A mountain?!

Apparently satisfied that Markus’s brigandine was strapped and ready for combat, Aela began hurriedly donning her own.

“My lord!” Sven had returned and now had a small cadre of officers in tow, including the troop commander.

Without wasting any time, the grizzled commander got straight down to it, “You believe there are monsters nearby?” He demanded tersely.

Unsure of the commander’s stance regarding chimaeras, Markus felt it would be best if he took the lead on this, “Yes! A flock of wyverns are circling the encampment even as we speak!”

The commander stiffened slightly and the accompanying officer’s faces whitened. “I see,” the commander muttered quietly. Darting a quick glance at his men, the commander’s expression hardened briefly before turning his attention back to Markus. “My lord, I shall provide you with two dozen of my best men to accompany you while we do our best to hold off the monsters,”

“Huh?” Markus wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. “You want me to run away?” He asked hesitantly.

“My lord’s safety is paramount,” the commander replied stiffly, a hint of umbrage in his voice.

Markus frowned. Even though he did not know them personally and it was their duty to protect him, the idea of abandoning the soldiers felt profoundly wrong. However, Markus was not foolish enough to think that the commander would back down from his duty without a fight, so he would need to compromise. “I will accept any number of soldiers you deem necessary for my protection,” Markus conceded.

The commander nodded and was about to give orders to his officers when he was interrupted.

“However, I will not be leaving,” Markus stated boldly, involuntarily tensing as he braced for the commander’s response.

Contrary to his expectations, the commander only narrowed his eyes and stared at him for a moment before slowly nodding his head. “Is that so?” The commander breathed quietly, “Are you intending to fight the monsters?” He asked impassively.

Markus shrugged and shook his head, “Not myself, no. But If we hurry, I can give your soldiers a chance to avoid taking unnecessary losses.”

The commander had a confused expression for a moment before a look of realization dawned on him, “You are an artificer!” He declared emphatically.

Markus nodded, “I think I saw your soldiers using crossbows? If I can enchant the bolts, I think that would give us the best chance of fighting off the wyverns,” he suggested and looked pointedly towards the supply wagons.

“Of course!” The commander turned to Sven and his other gathered officers and began barking orders, “I want a protection detail of at least twenty infantry and thirty crossbowmen to accompany his lordship at once! Abandon all preparations for making camp! I want loose formations of no more than ten men scattered throughout the surrounding area! MOVE IT!” His voice carried like a warhorn and the surrounding soldiers reacted before the officers even had a chance to begin issuing orders of their own.

Markus began hurrying towards the supply wagons with Sven and Aela right behind him, “Sven, I need you to bring out the bolts and copy what I do, alright!?”

Sven nodded grimly, forgoing equipping armour of his own and leaping up and into the bed of a supply wagon. A few moments later, he had uncovered a large crate and heaved it out and onto the ground by the wagon.

Removing the lid revealed hundreds of bundled crossbow bolts of varying types.

Drawing his knife, Markus cut the string binding a brace of leaf headed bolts together. Picking up one of the bolts, he quickly carved the required sigils along the wooden shaft and handed it over to Sven, “I need you to do the same on the other bolts as quickly as you can!”

Sven gulped and nodded, drawing his own knife and doing his best to copy the sigils.

Less than a minute later the ordered protection detail arrived and Markus similarly put them to work. Leaving only the crossbowmen and the assigned officer to keep watch, he had the infantry join Sven in preparing the ammunition.

Knowing that the wyverns could be upon them at any moment, Markus hurriedly began enchanting the prepared bolts. Using the reserve mana harvested in Endem and stored within the large crystal to support his own meagre reserves, Markus hoped he would be able to produce enough enchanted ammunition to at least drive the wyverns away. As only Aela would suspect and agree, Markus never really had a chance in trying to outrun the wyverns. Monsters seemed to consistently prioritise him as a target whenever available, and they were much too far from the closest town with high level adventurers to make the risk of running worthwhile.

Shifting his attention to the officer assigned for his protection, Markus pointed to the freshly enchanted bolts, “You need to share these with the other soldiers!” He barked nervously.

The officer nodded and began issuing orders to three of his men. “You heard his lordship! Agni, Strun, Verun! I want you to start distributing bolts to the other crossbowmen, but make sure not to give them more than a couple each! Move it!”

“Sir!” The three soldiers immediately gathered up the forty or so bolts between them and rushed off in different directions.

“The arrow is getting bigger!” Aela called out warily and held out the tablet for Markus to see.

Looking at the tablet, Markus could see she was right. The arrow had grown at least twice as large as before, most likely indicating that the source was now twice as close as it had been the last time he checked. Markus quickly turned his attention back to the officer again, “You need to hold back bolts from the next batch, the wyverns are closing in,” he stated dryly and began enchanting the couple dozen bolts that had been prepared in the meantime.

The officer nodded in agreement, donning his helm and motioning for another pair of soldiers to approach. “Ulfred, Ethel, make sure that the unit has at least two bolts each then distribute the rest amongst the squads nearby!”

“Sir!” The two soldiers obediently picked up the pile of bolts and began handing them out amongst the crossbowmen before running off into the rain.

Seeing the worried look on the infantrymen’s faces, Markus hoped the preparations would be enough. With visibility growing worse by the minute, he hoped that the wyverns did not share Aela’s keen eyesight or worse, her uncanny sense of smell.

A shout from somewhere in the camp broke the relative silence, “WYVERN!” A soldier was frantically pointing to the west.

A dark shape was now visible above the treeline and was approaching fast. Contrary to what Markus had expected, he didn’t hear any wingbeats or bellowing cries. The wyvern’s approach was incredibly quiet, any noise it was making was drowned out by the call to arms of the soldiers.

In a matter of seconds, the wyvern had swept over the encampment and disappeared again, a backdraft and the soldier’s cries left in its wake.

“UNLESS THEY LAND, ONLY FIRE WHEN IT APPROACHES YOUR POSITION! HEAD ON ONLY!” The commander roared, “CONSERVE THE ENCHANTED AMMUNITION!” Now fully armoured and ready with his spear and shield, the commander was standing provocatively in the middle of the encampment as he gave orders to his troops.

Rattled by the wyvern’s sudden appearance, the commander’s bold presence had a steadying effect on the soldiers and Markus alike.

Markus enchanted another batch of ammunition and grew worried. The reserve mana within the storage crystal was being rapidly depleted and would soon run out. There would only be enough enchanted bolts for each crossbowman to attempt a few shots at most.

“FIRE!” An officer bellowed, accompanied moments later by the twang of bowstrings. There was a stifled roar and the sound of something large crashing through the trees nearby.

Turning around to see what had happened, Markus could see ten or more soldiers rushing towards the violently thrashing monster that had crashed on the far side of the camp. Although he couldn’t see it very well from where he was standing, it was somewhat like Aela had described earlier.

The wyvern's body was comparable in size to that of a large horse. It had a sinewy snakelike head and neck with large batlike wings and strange fins running the length of its body and tail. The wyvern’s tail didn’t have any barbs or spines he could see. However, the wyvern did have a pair of sinewy legs ending in dangerous-looking talons.

No doubt weakened by at least one of his enchanted bolts, the wyvern’s hide was no match for the swords, axes and hammers of the soldiers. Perhaps having broken its wings on its descent, the wyvern could not coordinate much of a defence and was being hard-pressed by the emboldened and desperate soldiers.

Letting out a pitiable shriek, the wyvern opened its mouth wide, revealing needle-like teeth and began disgorging a stream of liquid fire at one of the soldiers. Fortunately, the stream was weak and the soldier easily managed to back away before it could touch him.

While the wyvern was distracted, another soldier came rushing in with a two-handed axe and chopped down on the wyvern’s neck. Although he did not sever its neck, the soldier’s axe bit deep enough to sever its spine, effectively killing it.

Thrashing and spasming in its death-throes, the wyvern’s unpredictable movements forced the soldiers to retreat. Even after its apparent demise, liquid fire continued to run from its mouth, illuminating the surrounding area briefly before clouding it in smoke.

As if it had been planned, another wyvern strafed over the camp heading in the direction of its fallen kin.

Like Markus, the soldiers had been so engrossed in watching the battle with the first wyvern, that they had stopped paying attention to their surroundings.

Uncontested, the second wyvern belched out a stream of fire across the camp. The accompanying screams made it obvious that at least a few soldiers had been too slow to avoid the flames.

Horrified, Markus watched two such soldiers flailing about and desperately slapping at the flames covering their armour. But their efforts only made it worse, spreading the fire to their hands and other parts of their bodies. Most surprisingly, the rain did not quench the flames, simply spreading and shifting the fire over their bodies and onto the ground around them.

It wasn’t until an officer tackled one of the unfortunate soldiers to the ground and smothered them with a blanket that the flames were extinguished. Following the officer’s lead, soldiers cast aside their weapons and began doing the same for the others.

Unfortunately, two more wyverns had begun approaching the camp, the first managing to strafe the camp with its fiery breath and escape seemingly unscathed. The second Wyvern was not so lucky, a bolt had managed to catch it in the throat and stomach as it was releasing a stream of fire. Tumbling through the air and past the camp to crash nearby, there was a deafening explosion and bright flash of light from the direction of the crash site.

“The wyverns can explode?!...” Markus exclaimed weakly.

Aela looked just as stunned as Markus, “Mother never said anything about that,” she protested.

Using the last of the storage crystal’s mana to enchant the prepared bolts, Markus sighed and briefly considered using his own mana to keep going. However, he quickly dismissed the idea since he was already starting to feel tired. Whether it was from the relatively late hour or overdrawing his mana, Markus couldn't be sure. Either way, the few hundred bolts already enchanted would have to be enough.

“You can stop now,” Markus told the soldiers, “I can’t enchant any more of them.”

The officer assigned to him had a worried look but nodded in understanding and gratitude for Markus’s efforts.

Now free from enchanting the bolts, Markus moved away from the supply wagons and did his best to take cover behind some tall trees. Aela and Sven soon joined him, both were loosely holding large shields at the ready. They probably intended to block the fire breath with their shields and immediately discard them afterwards rather than try to extinguish them. Or at least Markus hoped that was what they were planning.

Another wyvern strafed through the camp and was struck mid-stream. However, the wyvern did not tumble from the sky. Instead, it suddenly broke off its attack and banking away at a sudden right angle narrowly avoiding a small volley of crossbow bolts.

Markus honestly had no idea whether they were making any headway at all since he didn't know how many wyverns there had been to begin with. “Aela, how many wyverns did you see earlier?” Markus asked, making an effort to keep his voice relatively level and calm.

Aela shifted uncomfortably for a moment before answering, “At least five,” she replied anxiously.

“And that is only two brought down so far...” Markus observed dryly.

“Another two have been injured though,” Aela interjected with a hint of optimism.

“Really?” The wyverns had been rushing overhead so quickly in the darkness that Markus had not gotten a good enough look at any of them to tell them apart. Before he could ask a follow-up question, another wyvern strafed through the camp setting trees and more unfortunate soldiers ablaze.

With so much smoke obscuring the camp, Markus was too slow to react as another wyvern disgorged a torrent of flame in his direction.

At the last moment, Aela imposed herself and her shield between Markus and the wyvern’s fiery breath. The liquid flames spattered in all directions as they were intercepted by Aela’s shield, surrounding them with small patches of fire.

The moment the wyvern moved on, Aela was about to throw away her shield but stopped. Contrary to the flames around them, those upon Aela’s shield were already very nearly extinguished.

Confused for a moment, Markus quickly realized what was happening, “It’s the enchantment!” He cried in relief. Their weapons and armour were all prepared with Markus’s mana draining enchantment from the preparation to face the dungeon. Whatever this flammable liquid was, Markus now realised that it must be made with mana and was therefore just as susceptible to his draining enchantments.

Aela appeared just as surprised as Markus but nodded in understanding and quickly strapped the shield more securely to her arm.

Sven just stared blankly at the pair of them before giving his own shield a worried glance. Wearing only his gambeson for protection, the quartermaster’s only real defence against the flames was his shield. By extension, his only means to protect Markus was his own body and that painfully mundane shield.

Withdrawing a bead from his belt pouch, Markus concentrated and imbued it with the mana draining enchantment before handing it over to Sven. “If you carry this in your pocket or tie it to your armour or shield, it will impart an enchantment to your armour that will fight the flames,” he explained hurriedly.

Sven gulped hard and accepted the gift without protest. Perhaps thinking that his sodden Gambeson would be protection enough against the flames, Sven snapped a leather amulet from his neck and used it to tie the bead to his shield.

As if realizing its attack had failed, the wyvern returned for another pass. However, this time a number of bolts pierced its body, causing the wyvern to shriek in pain and abort its assault. Similarly, another wyvern that had accompanied it was even more unfortunate and after being perforated with bolts careened into a tree and impaled itself on the branches. Liquid fire poured from its torn body and set the tree ablaze.

“HOLD FIRM!” The commander bellowed from somewhere amidst the smoke, “MEN AND WOMEN OF SKALISBERG DO NOT FALTER EVEN IN THE FACE OF DEATH! WE DO OUR DUTY AND SPIT IN DEATH’S FACE!”

Shortly afterwards the ground shook and another wyvern howled in rage. Unlike the others, this wyvern was considerably louder and did not seem to be in pain.

Seconds later there was the sound of a loud intake of breath and then a huge billowing stream of fire tore through the camp. The sudden rush of air temporarily drove the smoke away and revealed a wyvern more than five times the size of the others. If the other wyverns had bodies the size of horses, this wyvern was easily comparable to the wagon train itself.

Propped up on its massive wings, the wyvern hissed as it glared down at the commander, its tail writhing in anticipation of the kill.

The commander stood alone in a sea of flames, his shield discarded and staring defiantly at the wyvern with only his sword.

Suddenly Aela sprang into motion, running forward a dozen steps and hurling her pollaxe at the wyvern.

Perhaps believing it had nothing to fear from such a weapon, or maybe not expecting the sudden attack, the wyvern shrieked in pain as the spiked head of Aela’s pollaxe stabbed into its chest. Batting the pollaxe free with one of its wings, the wyvern shifted its attention to their direction.

Aela was already on the move, running out of the camp with her shield held ready in the direction of the wyvern.

Unfortunately, the wyvern did not seem interested in chasing her at all. Instead, turning its attention to Markus and Sven.

The commander had tried to use the opportunity to slash at the membrane of its wing, but his sword had just bounced right off of it.

The giant wyvern casually swatted the commander aside, as if he were little more than a child’s plaything.

Raising his shield to protect his face, Markus readied his spear and used the crystal pane in his shield to keep an eye on the wyvern as he and Sven slowly backed away. Markus hoped that there were at least a few crossbowmen still standing with enchanted bolts reloading and preparing to fire. Even assuming Aela was able to quickly return, he was not enjoying the prospect of her fighting such a strong monster on her own.

Markus briefly caught sight of Aela skirting the wyvern and moving to flank it from behind. However, the bulk of the wyvern combined with the smoke, flames and rain quickly caused him to lose sight of her again.

Any soldiers that attempted to charge the wyvern were dispatched as effortlessly as the commander had been. Either brushed aside by its wings or swatted by its whiplike tail, dashing their body to pieces. Although there were indeed crossbowmen still firing at the giant wyvern, none of their bolts appeared to be enchanted, simply skating off the wyvern's scaled hide with no visible effect.

Approaching faster than Markus and Sven could back away, the wyvern seemed content to slowly chase after them, effortlessly pushing down any trees in its path to do so.

Markus gave a dispirited glance at his spear as he contemplated throwing it at the wyvern as Aela had done earlier. Neither strong enough to throw it the requisite distance or to have it penetrate the monster’s hide on arrival, he dismissed the idea almost immediately. If Aela were still with them, Markus would have handed the spear to her and had no regrets in doing so. However, with only his spear, sword and a small collection of knives, uselessly throwing away his spear to no effect was out of the question.

“My lord. I will distract the monster while you flee to the horses!” Sven stated grimly, his attention firmly fixed on the giant wyvern as he stopped backing away, took a steadying breath and prepared to head towards the monster armed only with his shield.

“No,” Markus stopped as well and glared disapprovingly at the quartermaster, although his stern expression was hardly visible at the moment. Watching the flow of the giant wyvern’s mana through his shield, Markus could tell that it was about to launch an attack of its own.

High concentrations of mana were pooling in its chest as the giant wyvern began to deeply inhale.

Sven angled his shield to protect them from the front and Markus held his shield to protect them from above.

A couple of seconds later, Markus and Sven were very nearly knocked clean off their feet as they were blasted with a torrent of liquid fire. The heat stole the breath from Markus’s lungs and very nearly caused him to pass out on the spot.

When the torrent stopped, Sven immediately collapsed into the mud, as if the flames themselves had been the only thing keeping him standing.

Markus gasped in horror as he witnessed the fiery ruin of Sven’s legs. Burning like logs in a fire pit, there was no hope they could be saved. The quartermaster himself was dead or unconscious, his expression marked with pain and defiance.

Dropping his spear, Markus pulled the sodden cloak from his back and hastily draped it over Sven’s body. If he was still alive, the mana draining enchantment would extinguish the flames and give the surgeons a chance to save what remained of his life.

As Markus was about to pick up his spear again, he suddenly froze as hot breath billowed over his body. Before Markus could even so much as turn his head, a crushing weight clamped around his chest and legs, sweeping him off his feet and into the air.

Tumbling through the air, Markus had no time to think about what had happened. He was now hurtling back towards the ground and the waiting jaws of the giant wyvern below. Unable to so much as prepare his shield to defend himself, Markus could only watch as the wyvern’s jaws snapped shut over his midsection and began whipping its head back and forth as if trying to sever him in two.

Despite the pain, Markus was aware that for the moment at least, both his armour and enchantments were holding, if only barely. After all, If they had failed, Markus would not be in pain, he would be dead.

Perhaps tiring of his resilience, the wyvern dashed Markus against the ground.

Briefly losing consciousness, Markus didn’t immediately understand where he was or what was happening. Everything was dark and wet, his body battered, bruised and protesting with every minor movement. His left shoulder in particular sent hot flashes of pain as Markus tried to move his arm.

It was incredibly hard to breathe, the air reeking of smoke and almost too hot to bear. Unable to see anything in the darkness, Markus concentrated and tried to see the flow of mana that would at least show him where Aela was via tracking her enchanted equipment. Unexpectedly, Markus could only see his own armour. Even more unexpectedly, Markus could see that his armour’s mana draining enchantments were actively siphoning mana.

Becoming more lightheaded by the second, Markus struggled to understand what this meant. Frustrated by a lack of light, Markus fumbled for the beads in his belt pouch, spilling most of them before numbly drawing one up in front of his face. Willing it to shed light, he was very nearly blinded and couldn't help but flinch, dropping the bead in the process.

His surroundings now illuminated, Markus began to panic as he realized how much danger he was in. Sitting in a pool of liquid and surrounded by quivering walls of flesh, Markus vaguely recalled being thrown in the air and tumbling towards the mouth of the wyvern.

Barely able to breathe, Markus drew his sword and feebly pressed it against the fleshy wall. Unfortunately, he was too weak. Despite feeling the blade slowly cutting through, Markus knew that it would not be nearly fast enough to save him before he suffocated or worse. Doing his best to suppress his panic, Markus shifted his attention to the beads he had dropped earlier. Using as much of his flagging strength as he dared, Markus willed them to drain and weaken the wyvern’s mana so he could escape.

Turning his attention to the fleshy wall again, Markus tried to lift his sword but couldn’t. Unwilling to resign himself to death, Markus released his sword and instead fumbled for one of the knives on his belt instead. Unfortunately, Markus had as much luck with the knife as his sword, lacking the strength to even keep a hold of the knife as it bounced out of his grasp.

As his conscious mind faded, Markus consoled himself with the knowledge that with so many mana draining enchantments now active inside of the giant wyvern, at least Aela would be safe.

*****

Waking in a familiar room, Markus impassively passed the time by doing absolutely nothing at all. The room made it difficult to think, to care about things. It was Markus’s earliest memory, the only one devoid of pain and suffering.

Everything was wrought in varying shades of grey, the only colour present coming from Markus himself. There were no chairs, tables or furniture of any kind, just a general sense that it was indeed a room and that Markus was supposed to be there. While there were no ornaments or furniture, there were shadowy portals Markus recognised as doorways. It was these doorways that cast the room in their shifting grayscale palette.

Instinctively, Markus shied away from the darker doorways while staring fixedly at brighter doorways he did not remember. The longer he stared, the more convinced Markus became that he could feel something.

In the emotionless vacuum of the room, Markus was drawn to this possibility of sensation like a moth to the flame.

An eternity passed in silence with Markus contented with staring at the bright doorway from his place in the precise centre of the room. Moving was forbidden, Markus knew this, he knew it in the same way that he was in the room. To move from his place in the absolute centre would see the room destroyed, and the doorways closed forever.

But Markus knew something else, something the room didn’t want him to know.

Markus had moved before, peered into the doorways, seen what lay beyond, escaped.

The threat of the room’s destruction was intended to keep Markus still, bound and pliable to the will of the room. Although Markus wasn’t certain if he could survive the destruction of the room if he stayed, he remembered that escaping allowed a chance to live.

Not moving had been easy at first, and yet, the longer Markus stared at the door, the more the sense of formless longing grew inside of him. Not moving had become painful, remaining still was synonymous to self-inflicted agony.

Markus didn’t know when he began trembling and didn’t care, he had to move.

What had begun as a curiosity and grown into desire was now an overriding compulsion.

The absolute rule of the room conflicted with Markus’s compulsion and was almost certainly responsible for his trembling as they each sought to hold him to their purpose, tearing Markus apart in the process.

The more torn Markus became, the more damage was inflicted on his otherwise formless psyche. The worse the trembling became, the more certain Markus felt that he was meant to be somewhere else, that he was meant to be somebody else.

For the first time in an eternity, the first time since awakening in the room, Markus moved.

The movement was so small that Markus believed his sin had passed beneath the room’s notice, and he dared to hope that perhaps it had.

Markus’s forefinger had twitched, a minor rebellion but one that would carry grave consequences.

The room had begun to collapse.

The farthest peripheries of the room began succumbing to the darkness emanating from the darkest doorways.

Formless howling voices began echoing through the room, heart-wrenching screams of pain and fear.

Markus lethargically staggered to his feet, his eyes still fixated on the brightest doorway.

Turning out the formless white noise spilling out from the other doorways, Markus took a step towards the brightest doorway. Almost immediately, he felt a near impossible weight beginning to bear down on him, driving Markus to the ground and threatening to crush the life from his fragile form.

“Save her…” The voice was barely audible above Markus’s own laboured breathing, the blood pooling and gurgling in his lungs. Yet Markus was compelled to obey, muscles and tendons breaking his bones as he crawled towards the brightest doorway, the invisible weight boring through his chest.

The brightest doorway was too far and the room was collapsing too quickly, Markus knew this and continued crawling all the same. Unlike the edict of the room, Markus’s goal and the compulsion were aligned.

Even without air to take the place of the blood flooding his ruptured lungs, Markus continued crawling desperately towards the brightest door, relying on the compulsion to provide the energy to move his oxygen-starved limbs.

“Save her…” The voice repeated. A phlegmy catch in the speaker’s throat and desperate wheeze declaring a state of mortal peril similar to Markus’s own.

Markus’s body was wracked with agony, his body screaming through the dying nerve endings and begging for release.

Markus ignored the pain as best he could and continued inching forwards, ignoring the darkness closing in all around him.

“You can’t escape,” a cruel voice sneered from the darkness.

Where the compulsion allowed movement, Markus’s newfound fear lent his dying body speed. What the owner of that voice had done...It transcended memory and made Markus grateful for his inevitable annihilation.

“Are you truly so naive as to believe that the hero always wins in the end?” The cruel voice snickered in amusement as a shadowy form began to take shape in the darkness. “Did you really think your little ploy could keep her from us?”

Vomiting blood, Markus continued dragging himself towards the brightest doorway.

“We found her, you know?” The cruel voice taunted, knowing Markus had to stop, had to check to see if the voice was lying. The compulsion demanded it.

The room was almost gone and at its heart stood the owner of the cruel voice, his body shrouded in darkness.

Knowing the compulsion would force Markus to stop, the featureless shadowman smiled, a yawning abyss of nothingness taking the place where his mouth should have been. “Our men are moving in even now,” the cruel voice taunted anew, “All of this,” the shadowman gestured to the collapsing room with amusement, “Your sacrifices,” the voice bored into Markus’s mind and shattered his mental defences almost effortlessly, “I just wanted to let you know it was all for nothing.” The shadowman smiled wider in anticipation of Markus’s expected reaction.

Markus could feel the brightest doorway beginning to collapse, but the compulsion held him firm and gave him a new direction.

“Save her…” Markus gurgled, spilling more blood down his face as he began stubbornly clawing his way towards the shadowman.

The body of the shadowman balked, but the smile remained.

Half-formed shadows began appearing on Markus’s flanks, barring his path back towards the brightest doorway.

“Stay your blades!” The cruel voice barked in amusement, immediately causing the shadows to back away a short distance from Markus, but not leave him alone entirely.

Markus felt hate so profound and intense it felt like he would be consumed at any moment, only the compulsion allowed his spent form to continue as the collapsing room tore pieces of dead flesh from his bones. “Save her…” Markus growled hoarsely.

“So keen to feel my loving touch?” The cruel voice teased happily, “Oh don’t worry, I have learned so much from our time together, enough that even now you are not beyond saving.” The shadowman recoiled from Markus even as the yawning abyss of his smile grew ever larger, “We are going to spend much more time together-urk!”

Markus had managed to grab hold of the shadowman’s left ankle and powered by hate yanked the shadowman off his feet.

“Wh-what are you doing?!” The cruel voice demanded, the limbs of the shadowman flailed at Markus in a panic, trying to bat him away.

Weathering the abuse in the way only the nearly dead could, Markus dragged himself along the shadowman’s body until they were face to face and locked his decaying fingers around the shadowman's neck.

“Urk-Kill-Urgh-Him!” The shadowman gasped desperately, thrashing and clawing at Markus with his ever-weakening limbs.

Blades of shadow pierced Markus’s back and erupted through his chest, but he ignored them and broke the shadowman’s neck. “S-a-v-e...H-e-r…” Markus gurgled as he collapsed beside the disintegrating form of the shadowman’s corpse.

The brightest door was all but gone now, Markus felt it and mourned its loss with the last flickering fragments of his disintegrating mind.

“MARKUS!” A familiar voice boomed through the remnants of the room, dispelling the shadows and forcing the room to reluctantly begin piecing itself back together.

The weight bearing down on Markus’s back was gone, replaced only by a sudden pain in his chest.

“WAKE UP!” The woman’s voice was accompanied by a blow to Markus’s chest and accelerated the regeneration of the room.

Staring down at his hands, Markus silently watched the decaying flesh of his hands slowly return to life and regenerate the missing pieces.

“I need you…” The woman whispered hoarsely.

A much lighter blow fell on Markus’s chest and he turned towards the brightest door.

“Don’t leave me...” A woman formed of light stepped through the brightest door, as formless as the shadowman had been, only...Her eyes...Markus could not look away from her eyes.

“Save her,” Markus’s own voice commanded. Despite the words not passing his lips, they echoed through the room all the same.

Staggering to his feet, Markus expelled the fouled blood from his lungs and began staggering towards the woman of light. “Aela…” Markus gasped.

Struggling to breathe and so close to his goal, Markus stumbled the final few steps and fell into her waiting arms. Thoroughly drained of his final dregs of will, Markus succumbed to his overwhelming exhaustion. As his consciousness fading, Markus could feel the darkness being purged from his body and expelled to the farthest reaches of the room. While glad for its absence, Markus knew he would be diminished for its absence all the same.