Samuel’s head ached, abominably. The world was spinning violently as his eyes opened, and his nostrils were filled with the smell of rotting vegetation. The ground he lay upon was pitch black, and the dirt seemed to bear some unidentifiable dark dew. It clung to his face, and was ice-cold, numbing the parts of his body that were in direct contact with the forest floor.

He found that he could move his body once more, though he could feel a dull pain radiating from the wounds in his chest and leg. Glancing down, he could see that the slashes had been roughly bandaged, enough to staunch the bleeding. Based on his spinning head, he assumed that he’d lost a fair bit of blood, and was nowhere near ready to fight or flee. He could only lift his head and glance at his surroundings, eyes blinking in the dim lighting of the forest.

It was clear that he was in some sort of forest clearing, tied to one of the trees on the edge. More of the men and women who attacked him were all around the open space, either chatting quietly with each other or sitting on the edges of the clearing. Their dark grey skin stood out from the black metal armor they wore, and their red eyes shined slightly in the dark light.

At the very center of the clearing, a small group of these figures was sitting on black stumps. There were five in total, with four of them watching over the others in the clearing. The man in the middle, however, was different. While his skin was partially grey, he looked healthier. His eyes were green, and his hair was a dark blonde. He looked to be a half-elf, with noble features that sharply contrasted the inky black marks that seemed to be spreading across his skin.

The man, who was obviously in a position of power here, seemed to sense Samuel watching him and looked up. Samuel drew back slightly as he did so. Where the others had a dead look to their eyes, this man had obvious intelligence. His eyes burned with a sort of deep intelligence as if he’d just been broken out of deep thought. His presence may have stood out from the surroundings as if he didn’t belong, yet the figures around him obviously saw him as in command.

“Well well well.” The stranger said. His voice was deep, with a faint hissing quality that reminded Samuel of a snake. “It seems that our guests are awake. Welcome to my home, the ancestral grounds of my people.”

Samuel said nothing in reply but looked to the side. He could see Shigeru sitting to his left, bound to the same tree as Samuel. His face was heavily bruised, and his limbs bore the sign of many small scratches, each tiny wound oozing some dark liquid that looked nothing like blood. It was thick as an oil, and pitch black, reflecting no light.

“What did they do to you, Shigeru?” He said quietly. The swordsman, who had been in a slight daze, started back to attention as he was addressed.

“This guest was not as well-behaved as you,” The tall blond figure said, a smile curving across his thin lips. “My men had to remind him of the rules of my home.”

“Your home?” Samuel asked, raising an eyebrow in disdain. “You choose to live here? No wonder you look as if you’ve fallen ill. And exactly who are you, may I ask?”

The figures around the clearing stirred angrily at Samuel’s words, but the leader raised his hand to quell them, and they fell silent at once. He bore no sign of offense but kept his cruel smile in place as he stepped closer to his two captives. He had a dagger in his belt, a beautiful weapon that also stood in contrast to the haggard appearance of his sickness.

“I am Arwinn Feine, friend. I am the leader of the coven here, and Champion to Neratas the Wise, Paragon of Nature.”

Samuel wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it made no sense for such a noble figure to be serving Neratas. He looked to be a proper druid, or at least he did, based on Samuel’s limited knowledge of what the druids of Dagorra Forest were like. So why would he be in the service of a being that was poisoning the forest around it?

“I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, Arwinn Feine,” Samuel said, looking back to Shigeru. The swordsman was silent, staring at Arwinn with unmistakable anger. “But our circumstances prevent this.”

“Of course,” Arwinn said, giving a mock-bow to his captives. “I too wish we could have met in… happier times. But you are trespassers, and as such, you cannot receive such a warm welcome.”

“Trespassers, eh?” Samuel retorted, “I’ve been in the forest plenty of times before, and never been attacked. Why change your stance on visitors now?”

Arwinn seemed to take a few seconds to consider his reply, his gaze switching between Samuel and Shigeru. There was something discerning about his gaze, Samuel fancied. It was almost as if he were attempting to divine the truth of their soul. He tried to awaken his mana to form a shield around his body to protect against the search, then remembered that in his current state, he was too infected to do much of anything. Arwinn’s grin widened.

“Well, on your previous visits, you were not traveling with the greatest threat to the great Neratas,” Arwinn said. “You were in communion with our ways, even if you were not of the people.”

Samuel frowned slightly at the druid’s response. He’d made his comment to confuse the druid, or even bait him into saying something unintentionally. Instead, he was now the one on his heels, so to speak, trying to grapple with the implication of the response.

Wait.” He said slowly, not sure if his thinking was right. “You know me from before? You recognize me?”

“Of course we know who you are, Samuel Bragg,” Arwinn said slowly. “As with your friend, Shigeru, the once to-be Emperor of Nihon-Ja.”

That made no sense, Samuel thought to himself. He could understand if they knew about Grimr. He was, after all, the one hell-bent on finding and killing their current leader. It was logical that they keep up to date on his whereabouts, status, and intentions. But why spend the time to gather information on two ordinary mortals? Compared to Neratas, he and Shigeru were like small insects, hardly a threat.

“Where is Longfang?” Arwinn asked, bringing Samuel’s attention back to his current situation. It was only then that he realized that Arwinn was no longer in front of him. He was standing over Shigeru, leaning in so their faces were mere inches apart.

Glancing to Shigeru, Samuel saw that the swordsman was smiling. This wasn’t his usual smile, however. He hadn’t seen Shigeru smug before, so it took him a moment to identify the expression.

“You will never have Longfang back, brute,” Shigeru said, his voice dripping with hatred. “It has been bound to me. As long as I live, it answers to me, and me alone.”

Arwinn drew the small dagger at his belt and held it to Shigeru’s throat. The metal of the blade reflected what little light there was in the clearing as it was pressed to the soft skin under the foreigner’s jaw. Shigeru didn’t flinch or capitulate at the unspoken threat but continued to stare into Arwinn’s face with a stubborn smile on his face.

“Yes, it does appear that you have been linked to Longfang,” Arwinn said, his voice a soft hiss. “But while you live is a short time, mortal. Whether it be now, or in a handful of years, you will die. And when you do, the pup will return to us. We are it’s home, after all.”

Arwinn withdrew the dagger and paced back to his stump, speaking in low voices with the other figures standing there. Their language was guttural and raspy, and Samuel understood none of it. He didn’t care to, however. His attention was fixed on Shigeru. The second Arwinn had turned around, Shigeru’s eyes had darted to the side, looking at something out of sight.

“Who is Longfang?” Samuel asked, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. “Is it another of Grimr’s friends?”

“Not quite,” Shigeru replied in a similar tone. “He is a fledgling Ancient, designed to hunt evil spirits.”

“Fledgling?” Samuel queried. He knew the term but wasn’t sure how it could be applied to an Ancient. “What makes you say that?”

“He is young, as far as Ancients are concerned,” Shigeru said, shifting his position with a grimace. “Just eighty years old, in fact. He is quite weak. Still, he managed to flee the forest and find Grimr.”

Finally, it clicked into place in Samuel’s head. “That’s how he knew that Neratas was corrupted.”

Shigeru said nothing but nodded. His smug smile was gone, replaced by a tired and pained expression. Furthermore, there was a slump to his shoulders that didn’t bode well. Gone was the unbending pride of the proud warrior. He looked much like Samuel felt, that there was no chance of survival in this predicament.

“He’s nearby, isn’t he?” Samuel asked, feeling as if a stone had lodged itself in his stomach. “How did you bring him with you without me noticing?”

“He is sealed,” Shigeru gasped, struggling against his bonds and wincing in pain. “Inside a weapon. I’ve carried it with me these past months.”

Samuel thought back, trying to remember seeing any dog or similar pet traveling with Shigeru. His mind came up blank until he reflected carefully on Shigeru’s words. If something was sealed, it was probably for protection. At first, he thought it might have been for Shigeru’s protection, but that made no sense. If it was bound to him, it wouldn’t pose a threat.

“The long parcel you carry,” Samuel said, slumping against the tree. “That’s him, isn’t it? That’s Longfang.”

Shigeru nodded. Curiously, he had stopped struggling in his bonds. His eyes were closed, and he looked to be concentrating. There was the briefest flicker of energy around his hands and feet, but it was a feeble showing, nowhere near enough to use. It was small but persistent. Shigeru rubbed one hand softly against the wound on his leg, and the flow of black liquid stopped quite abruptly. There was no more sign of healing, but at least the wound didn’t look infected.

“Neat trick,” Samuel commented. “Shame that poison stops us from doing any more.”

“It is enough,” Shigeru said quietly, taking another deep breath. He seemed much calmer now. “It is enough.”

Samuel frowned as he studied the swordsman. Shigeru no longer looked resigned. He still appeared to be in a great deal of pain, but there was a new sense of purpose to him that was greatly out of place. Despite being a captive, bearing many poisoned wounds, and out of any usable energy, Shigeru did not look like a defeated man. He took a deep breath with his eyes still closed, and the flow of energy disappeared from his hands.

“What-?” Samuel began, but could only get the one word out before a loud noise made him grit his teeth and cower against the tree.

A massive flash of light washed over the clearing, nearly blinding the two captives and Arwinn. The other figures in the clearing cried out in pain and fell to the ground, covering their eyes with their arms. Samuel experienced a brief tug on his bindings, then suddenly fell back. The tree they had been tied to had disappeared suddenly as if it had never existed. It, along with many others in the area, had simply evaporated, leaving behind the dark energy that had poisoned them.

It was just like the magic that Grimr had used at the edge of the trees. The energy inside each tree was moving swiftly away, out of Samuel’s sights. His hands still bound tightly, Samuel wriggled around to see the source of the magic. As he’d figured, but never hoped, he saw a short figure standing nearly two hundred feet away, enveloped in a whirl of dark energy that turned to bright green as it touched him. Grimr had arrived.

Two of the grey-skinned figures had donned some type of dark mask, protecting them from the bright light of the Ancient’s magic. They drew daggers and charged towards the figure, but Shigeru, up in a flash on his one uninfected leg, barreled into them with a ferocious shout. Still bound, he rammed his shoulder into the chest of one, knocking him back into his compatriot, and sending both sprawling onto the ground. Unbalanced as he was, he went with them, landing on top but quickly slamming into one’s head with his own. Judging by the immediate limpness to the body, Samuel assumed Shigeru had knocked him unconscious.

He didn’t have long to celebrate his small victory, however, as more enemies were rushing in, faces covered in dark masks. Shigeru rolled off the two he’d tackled, pushing with his leg to clear the space just in time. The daggers rained down on all sides, slicing through the space he’d just occupied. He continued to roll, over and over, dodging the next flurry of attacks with only centimeters to spare.

Samuel started with surprise as he felt something move against his hands and twisted around to see what it was. A green vine, practically glowing with life in contrast to the ground it moved on, had wrapped itself around the rope on his hands. In an instant, the bonds had withered away, falling to the ground as dust. Then the vine wrapped around his right wrist, and he immediately felt a surge of energy enter his body. It was warm, like an electrical current that flared life back into his body. The bleeding of his wounds stopped at once as the infection was forced out, and he scrambled to his feet.

“Arwinn!” Grimr shouted across the clear space to the druid. “You have failed in your duty as a keeper! I have come to claim the grove for my own, and kill Neratas, who has poisoned this land. Under the law of the Ancients, you will face me!”

Arwinn whirled around where he stood, his dagger held in front of his body. His face showed no sign of surprise at Grimr’s sudden appearance. He looked wary to be sure, but determined. There was also the slightest sign of hatred in his green eyes as he peered across at Grimr, clearly ready for a fight.

“I do not follow your orders, wanderer,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You are an intruder in these woods, destroying our home for your own gain. You have come for nothing but death.”

Grimr was across the gap and in Arrwinn’s reach in an instant, too fast for Samuel to see. The bone dagger flashed out with frightening speed, but Arwinn was ready. A screech of metal against metal sounded as Grimr’s dagger was parried, and the druid cut back with a vicious force, forcing Grimr to dart back to avoid injury.

Shigeru rushed in from the left, also on his feet again. He was unarmed but struck out with a powerful blow that Arwinn dodged at the last second. Faced with the odds of two versus one, the druid sidestepped around Shigeru, aiming for his unprotected back. Grimr intercepted the blow with a quick parry, and Shigeru lashed out with a high kick that caught Arwinn in the chest, sending him staggering back.

Grimr and Shigeru stood back to back, staring down at Arwinn with unmistakable anger, seemingly undaunted by the presence of more than forty enemies around them. They stood tall and strong and immediately went onto the attack, charging Arwinn down and cramping him for space. The druid parried Grimr’s dagger with desperation and danced out of the way of Shigeru’s flurry of punches and kicks.

Samuel started forward, noticing the swarm of grey-skinned enemies closing ranks to take the two from behind. He’d never been good at destruction magic, but there was something to be said for fighting for one’s life. His instincts, trained a little by the journey with Shigeru and Grimr, were just sharp enough to tell him that he must join in, or his friends would fall. Without meaning to, he surrendered his reason in favor of instinct and charged forward to protect his allies.

Arcane power exploded out of him, covering his entire body in a shimmering haze of mana. Unlike before when he’d conjured a shield for protection, this energy did not stay in one place. It wrapped around his body like clothing, flaring out, and moving with him. He too was unarmed, but if watching Shigeru fight had taught him anything, it was that his fist could hit hard enough.

His first target had no warning of his attack, for Samuel had moved too fast. With greater speed than he’d ever managed before, Samuel drew back his arm and struck the first attacker on the side of his face. The energy coating his fist exploded upon contact, sending the antagonist flying several feet away, to land on the ground, unmoving.

A dagger swung at him from behind, and Samuel, sensing it by the same newly-discovered instinct, stepped back, into the attacker’s reach. He continued the move, letting the flow of his own mana guide him, and blinked to see himself behind the man. He struck again, knocking him forward onto the ground before shifting position again to strike yet another enemy down with a blow.

He had enough of his wits about him to know that, under normal circumstances, this flagrant use of his mana would render him unconscious in seconds. But something about the vine, presumably under Grimr’s influence, was pouring as much energy into him as he was using. He seemed to be connected to an inexhaustible well of power. No matter how much mana he expelled striking enemies down and teleporting out of reach of their black knives, it replenished itself at once, and he felt no sign of exhaustion.