(Captain Alister.)

We needed water, but I wasn't about to send any of my men down into the ravine that had already claimed two of them.

There was also no clear way down, or I would've at least considered retrieving the bodies.

There was no way they'd survived the fall, or they'd at least be dead before we got down to them.

When it was reasonable to do so, I would always pay respect to those who served under my emblem. It just wasn't reasonable right now.

I was very cautious as I approached the cracked cliff's edge. I only saw a thickening darkness growing below.

I turned my head and scanned the faces of the men around me. "Who was it?"

"Gentry and Rodin, sir," my second told me; he was a steely eyed man and had been with me since Stodhold, much like Gentry.

Rodin was new. Why he'd stayed on after our recent struggles I wasn't sure; I suspected it was due to a lack of decisiveness and prospects, but that had been fine—he'd been a good enough boy.

But Gentry? Gentry was one of my own, more so than the kids who hadn't spilled their blood with and on the same ground as me.

I would regret his loss more than I would've some of the others.

"We can't risk getting to the bodies," I said sternly.

"Aye, sir," my second replied.

"Odwen?" I asked him by his name.

"Sir?" the man replied.

I glanced over at the slaves.

"Which of the slaves have we picked up recently?" I inquired.

"They're all chained, sir," he replied.

Something felt wrong.

"Make sure they're all secure and that none of them could've had a way out," I acquiesced. "I heard Gentry's scream and looked over. It started before he fell."

I didn't mention it, and I couldn't be sure in the dim lighting, but I thought I'd seen the man draw his sword as well.

No one did that if they were just falling.

"Double shifts tonight," I said. "Make sure every man has another with him at all times."

I was down to twelve men, not including myself. Not good in a place like this.

I reached to open a pouch on my belt and withdrew a red vial. "Give this to the elf woman. Slave or not, with our numbers down, I'm of a mind to free her and put a sword in her hand if we come upon any beasts."

Odwen reached a gloved hand out for the [Health Potion] without much complaint, but there was still the questioning tone I'd expected. "She's a strong one?"

"I'll be able to handle her if she steps out of line. Regardless, I'm not taking the collar off her neck unless she swears on; I don't think she's the kind to betray her word," I promised. "But if it comes down to life and death out here, we can no longer afford to let a capable fighter not be there to help tie up a threat."

"Aye, sir," Odwen replied with a solemn lisp. "Good thinking on ya."

I listened to the shifting sand as my more senior swordsmen started to disseminate my commands.

We were down to a skeleton crew, a mere singular percentage point, of the numbers we used to boast.

I brought my hand close to my gaze and stared at the onyx ring upon my finger.

My mind drifted to the slave girl. She'd help to turn things around if we played everything right.

I needed to name her, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not when I'd never even managed to name my own child.

(Nazanin.)

The man was the captain's next in line. You could tell by the way he carried himself; he was older than Captain Alister, but that was not odd.

I had seen it before: a warrior grizzled by age and no longer wanting to make decisions. They would instead allow younger, and more youthful, leaders to direct their lives.

I did not doubt that he was a capable fighter, however, as his level was only one below his leader's.

"Oi, elf. This is for you," he held the potion out to me without ceremony or disdain; it was valuable, but he did not seem to question the giving of it to me—though I very much doubted this was his own gesture.

"Why?" I asked; I did not believe now was the best time to seem to easily change my mind about joining them.

My eyes glanced to where Castien looked to focus on eating his hardtack now. I doubted it truly captured his attention.

"Captain wants to keep you alive," he said. "Drink it. Your leg looks like it's about to rot and the flush of your skin isn't much better."

I could feel the heat of disease already coursing through my skin. My eyes lingered on the red liquid as I reached for it.

"Thank you," I replied; honor or not, disgraced or not, no sane woman had a desire to die.

I uncorked the vial and downed the fluid.

[You have been cured of Infection (Moderate).]

I watched too as my health points began to increase.

I knew the potion's full healing would be stilted by the work it'd done to purge my body, but the spreading and refreshing icy chill that spread across my hot skin was still a welcome feeling.

I waited a moment as the bone of my leg started to shift. It wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable and unsettling.

I felt the cracked calcium and marrow shunted back into place inexplicably and to start to become a little more stable. It wouldn't be perfect, but I didn't believe it would get infected again and the clean break was now likely only a mild crack.

It would heal.

As the nausea of lingering sickness faded from my stomach, I looked up to the man who'd given me my second chance.

I knew what Castien had said about waiting, but this was a good excuse.

I glanced my eyes to the boy. His own eyes met mine very discretely; I didn't think I saw disapproval from my unlikely ally.

"You've lost men this night, yes?" I asked the mercenary who still observed me. "I would like to speak to the Captain."

The mercenary grunted. "Aye, lass. I figured you would."

He put a hand on his sword thoughtfully. "Oi, well, let me go get the key for your chains, yeah?”

It felt a shock of worry enter its body as the reverberation of another thud shook through the still uncoverted meat’s flesh.

It was vulnerable now. If something damaged its would-be host too greatly then it would never be able to adapt it properly.

It couldn't taste or smell from within the meat.

Already it could feel its many larvae subsuming the blood of the body, as it became thicker and more viscous with each circulation through the organ it resided within.

It felt its growing children pass across its chitin with every heartbeat.

It had not taken the first of them long to hatch. It never did.

As long as the loud vibration did not indicate danger or a predator looking to feed on the infested meat, as the larvae themselves still needed its own electrical impulses to aid in their directing at this stage, then all would be well.

All would be well.

(Castien.)

The caravan followed the canyon up higher and higher for three days at least.

Why they had chosen to take this route through such inhospitable lands remained a mystery to me.

I found my rather low Constitution score weighing heavily within my legs as I walked behind the caravan.

I was reminded of my days carrying heavy rucksacks for more miles than I’d ever gone, back when I’d first joined the military.

The manacles left bruises on my wrist and provided me with quite a bit of discomfort.

That wasn't the biggest issue at the moment, however; no, the biggest issue was that I could currently barely see two feet in front of my face.

"Keep them moving!" I heard a familiar, feminine voice shout. "These storms do not die down; they are mana born. They only grow more savage within; we must reach the other side!”

Nazanin hadn't been wrong to seize on the moment to join the sword company.

The fact that they had healed her had provided a reasonable alibi.

I hadn't gotten to speak with her since they'd removed her collar, nor had I seen the opportunity to do away with any more of the mercenaries, but it seemed like they’d put the powerful warrior in a leadership position.

Another shout broke out; this time from a male. "Sand crawlers!”

A strange chirping filled the air and I saw a long, thin leg reach up over the rock-side. It was bug-like, but also not—it was hairy and only needle thick.

The toothed snout was the next thing that I saw through the haze of dust and mystically charged silt.

Then it saw me back.