There we were, a group of silly people sitting on our silly little half-submerged dinky raft, drifting down the silly swamp of mud and spiders and things I didn’t want to think about.

Something latched on to my leg. I screamed and batted it away with my paddle.

“AH! F-fuu–“

It’s just a branch. Just a silly piece of wood hiding under the silly surface of this silly, silly place.

I wanna cry.

It took more than a moment for me to settle back down. The raft dipped on my side again. I could feel every small shift of balance throughout the wooden float. I returned to paddling and after it bobbed up and down once more, the wolf got back to it as well.

We’re so, so slow. At least we’re not making much noise. Everybody else isn’t, at least. I’m the one screwing it all up again. If I could just get a grip and not think of what’s maybe lurking underneath the water, that’d be great.

As I am now, I’m not just the loudest here, but I also glow like a friggin lighthouse. There’s no way anything living in this godsforsaken swamp could ever fail to notice me.

“Left.” The wolf said.

There was a large tree coming up in front of us and he probably spotted a clearer pathway around it. I paddled harder, even though my muscles were shaking and I could barely hold on to the broken piece of wood as it was. My single arm was burning up and even then I was not helping much.

It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.

The raft shifted and slowly, we began drifting to the side of the tree. It was a large thing, half as wide as it was tall, and looming over our heads. I wasn’t the only one who felt oppressed by the sight and the monarchs all crouched lower, huddling together in the middle as if they were afraid of the sky itself.

I also didn’t feel like looking at it directly.

We finally overtook it and pushed on. I didn’t let up paddling and by the feel of it, neither did the wolf. After what felt like ages, he finally gave the signal to slow down.

“Ahead. Slow.”

I wasn’t sure if he knew how to steer a raft. We were always going forward, but the frequent bumps and scrapes against trees or rocks underwater made the entire journey feel unsound. I was just glad that I’d have a moment’s rest before rowing around the next obstacle.

The wolf will get us back, safe. I told him to, no, I ordered him. He has to get us back.

In my mind, something bad was going to happen. Things never failed to turn sideways and when some new form of ungodly monster finally took note of our floating snack-platter, I would have to rely on him doing the fighting. Which provided him with a number of problems and me with worries without end.

The footing’s bad. The boat’s overcrowded.

Can he even fight like this? If he slips, he’ll drown.

Can I trust him to keep his word? What if he doesn’t, what do I do then?

No. No, he swore an oath. And the swamp is deep.

If something does attack and goes for one of the monarchs on my side, should I risk it all just to save them? Should I fight, let the wolf handle it or just… let it happen? After all, better them than Pim. Better than George. Better than me.

-a good little person doesn’t leave people to DIE.

…shit. Yeah, I did say that. But what if saving them risks the lives everybody else, not just mine? What if saving one will kill two others, what do I do then, I have to pick the two, but what if George is the one and–

Don’t think, just paddle. You’re not getting anywhere.

PaddlePaddlePaddlePaddle...

We passed a set of leaning rocks between a bunch of trees, rocks that looked more like old and withered statues from up close. They were bent like a twisted arch, and I swore I could see faces hewed into them, judging us as we paddled 'neath them on our small half-sunken float.

It was a good landmark – watermark, whatever – and while it restored some of my faith that the wolf knew where we were going, I didn't like that it led to wherever there was. There, the way the branches of the trees just suddenly appeared out of darkness like grasping arms looking for purchase on something, or someone, made my mind think we were heading for a haunted forest.

It was haunted, of course, just not by the supernatural. The trees weren’t moving, we were just floating on by. No ghosts and stuff, just monsters.

Wait, are ghosts a thing?

Not sure if they exist but if souls can glow, hey, maybe they can float around after death as well? It seems likely to me. What would I do if I had to fight one? Go for the head, the heart or the limbs? Wait, I don’t think ghosts really care about that. I think I’d need an exorcist, a priest or something. Some spicy water...

Could I just… eat it? Slurp it up like soup? Or, well, breath it in like a cloud of steam?

Somehow, thinking up imaginary scenarios with ghosts was making me calm down. It sounds absurd, but my greatly imagined worries managed to distract me from my actual worries for long enough that we made quite a bit of progress. Sadly, all good things had to come to an end.

I think I’d make a great ghos–

“Wagh!“

The platform beneath me lurched again and I turned around to see the wolf pushing us all away from what looked to be a shallow island or a rock we’d run aground on. He huffed and strained under the effort. After a tense half minute or so, we were free again and floated into a more open area. So open in fact that after a few dozen feet of paddling forwards there suddenly wasn’t a tree in sight.

A lake. We’re on a lake. Wide and open.

How horrid.

“Forward. Do not tarry. This is Aumbre Loch, the sweltering lake.” The wolf said, as if that explained anything.

It didn’t and we paddled forward, into the deep unknown.

On the lake, the atmosphere terrified to the bone. No trees, no rocks, no small islands or broken statues to light the way. Not a single point of reference. Just our small raft, and the light I shone, reflecting off the silvery water surface.

No one dared say a word, not even the wolf or George. Besides the quiet sloshing of our paddles, it was perfectly quiet. It felt as surreal as it looked. Though, even through the constant fear of something coming from the deeper parts of the water below, just being in a place that didn’t look and smell much like a swamp allowed me to relax quite a bit.

Which was a good indication that it was time to feel a random branch latch on to my leg again. I bit my lip, swallowing a scream and tried to brush whatever it was away with my paddle.

Just a tree branch. Just a–

I felt a wiggle and turned around to see something between a fish and a leech, the size of my forearm and clamped down on the back of my left boot. It made a loud sucking noise. I screamed again.

“AH! Gah–“

I wacked it with my paddle. Once, twice. Then it let go of its own will and dropped back into the deep water.

“What the fuck?” I said and turned to the wolf who was already stood up again, one hand on his sword.

“T–the fish. Wormy thing. It, like a leech, it bit me!” I pointed towards the fish-leech thingy. It was already long gone but I still remembered the wolf’s words very clearly.

“The thing – it’s not going to eat me from the inside out, is it?”

He gave me a look.

“No.”

Then he sat back down again and kept on keeping on with grumpy strokes. Even sitting on his knees, he towered over the monarchs. They were still kneeling, in fear or prayer, heads almost buried in the water.

“Keep on paddling. And be quiet.” He had every right to be grumpy, of course.

I crossed some sort of invisible line, some unspoken rule that I shouldn’t have with him. It was probably the oath. He couldn’t hate saving people that much and I was starting to realize how in my short fit of anger, I may have misused power I didn’t realize I had over him. If oaths were really that important to him, then it meant that he was trusting me with his life. And I…

It’s not my fault! I-I don’t know if oaths are really just informal promises or if they’re truly binding to whatever gods still watch over us. I don’t remember, they’re important, that’s for sure, but Pim is important too. At least to me. Not so much to the wolf, but he’s taking the whole oath-business a lot more serious than I am.

Is it the same? I don’t know. I can… apologize to him later. Maybe. I’m still kind of mad. At least all this bodily effort is giving me something to vent my frustrations on.

I sighed and continued paddling. But the fish thing came back. Except this time, it brought a friend. A double nibble nipped at my back foot and while I held myself back from screaming – more out of shame than lack of fear – I still beat them back as hard as I could.

Screw. Off!

Considering everything I went through these past two days, I did an ok job. They stopped biting and one of them I even managed to scoop up with the flat side of my paddle and throw way far away. It landed with a distant splunk. It only gave me a short reprieve as soon enough, there were four, then six, then eight, then a whole school of them.

“Shoo. Bad fish-leech.”

At least I had the comfort of being the larger party for once. Not that it was stopping them from trying to chew my legs to bits. Bless the gods for boots because that’s what most of them got between their jaws. I really loved my boots, but sadly even the highest boots didn’t prevent one of them from taking a nibble at my calf. My left calf. The one near the water. The one with all the holes from the fleas.

“Ow, ffff–!“

I hit it hard enough that the creature fell off and sunk in the water, unmoving. But it had already done enough. I was bleeding, again. And I didn’t have time to apply the last bits of Harris’ wound cream stuff. Not judging by the hungry looks of the rest of them.

“Do you require assistance, savior?” The wolf asked.

“N–no. Just fish. I’m fine.” It was a lie.

He snorted and we both continued paddling. My arm was just about to fall off, when the first branches and rocks started jutting out of the water again.

“We’re almost to the other side.” He said.

Almost, however, was still a bit too long to go.

I think everyone felt it rather than saw it when the fog rolled up. Even the fish-leeches. ‘Rolled’ is perhaps the wrong choice of words. No, it wasn’t like a wall of fog that we suddenly drifted into. Maybe ‘climbed’ or ‘grew’ would have been a better description of it, the way it first crept along the surface of the water, then grew taller and taller until it was clinging tightly to my shoulders like a blanket.

I’m just imagining things. Everything’s ok. The water’s totally not getting warmer.

I looked back over my shoulder.

Ok, the fish are gone. That’s good, right?

I then looked over the side of our raft. Small tiny bubbles were racing towards the surface all around us. In fact, as far as my light could reach, the lake looked like it was slowly coming to a boil.

I’m not imagining things. The water’s lukewarm now. I don’t think it’s because anybody peed in it.

“Uh… wolf?”

“Hm?” He grunted. He turned around after I didn’t answer and looked at me. “What?”

I pointed out behind us. At the lake, slowly but steadily bubbling up like a filthy bog stew over fire.

“Is this why they call it the sweltering lake?”

He just kept staring out, beyond my light. Nothing seemed to happen as time went by and our float gently dimpled along the water. Then, he looked over the side of the raft and swore. I followed his gaze and to my surprise, it looked like we were floating in a pot over an open fire.

There, beneath the murky waves, beyond the light that I gave off, there was a small, red glow. It wavered, pulsed almost. Like a heartbeat. As if it were alive.

“Forward. Hard. Now.” He said with a sense of urgency.

I wasn’t about to argue why he so suddenly wanted to get away from the quickly heating lake with a massive beating fire within it, so I went to my side and paddled away. The difference between my strength and his was quickly made apparent. He’d been holding himself back so we wouldn’t swim in circles. Even then, I could barely keep up with him. Now that he was going faster?

Yeah, no, we were going off course hard. I was screwing things up again and holding everyone back.

C’mon. Faster. Faster!

The water got hot and hotter. The people huddled on the raft whimpered, babbling all kinds of nonsense and just being dead weight in general.

To be completely fair, the wolf said as much before and I was aware that they would be, too. I wasn’t much help either at this point but as the swampy trees finally enveloped us in their embrace again and I didn’t feel like I had open skies above me, the water thankfully calmed down.

My arm feels like it’s gonna fall off. It’s just hot, burning. The muscles around my elbow feel inflamed. Ow.

Everyone looked back at the lake, where the small glow grew larger and larger, until it was smothered twice as quickly as it had come. The water was still warm, even a good ways into the swamp.

I think I saw an eye down there. And an arm. They were huge. Haha, this is hell all right. At least it’s behind us. And in front of us is… more swamp.

Fuck me. I don’t wanna.

“Hah. Hahah.” I couldn’t help myself from laughing.

It’s just so absurd. I set out yesterday morning, in the misplaced and optimistic hope of finding people that could give me answers, people that’ll show me the way to, I don’t know, go forward maybe. Find light, make friends and do some good along the way, y’know?

I went out to save maidens, but now I'm the one in need of rescue.

I never imagined there was worse stuff than bristle spiders and murderous one-armed giants lurking out there. There was no way I could have been prepared for how out of my depth I was, how much I still am.

But there’s a thing out there that can boil a lake.

Nearly every person I’ve encountered wanted to bash my brains in. Half almost succeeded.

Every creature smaller than me still tried to take at least a bite.

It’s like this place just wants me to become a mindless monster like the others, to fight for my life until all that matters is to eat to not be eaten. Like that one sharp-toothed demon. Woman. Bekki, whatever. It doesn’t matter.

I think I’ve understood something over the course of these past two days. I wasn’t ready, but here I am, still alive. Every decision I made, every fight I took or didn’t, every action I did was paid for in blood, with cuts, bruises, broken bones and lofty shattered ideals.

I'm not the good egg that I'd wanted to be.

I looked at Pim. And George. They were looking down as well, still staring at the fading embers of whatever hell-spawn lived at the bottom of that lake. There was fear in his eyes, but like with most children, there was curiosity at this strange happening as well. I felt that same curiosity within me, even if it was dampened by fear and mostly born because I needed to know what was going on around me before I could come to a satisfying decision on where I stood and what to do next.

But if I want to save people, I can do it.

I looked at my right arm in the first time since forever. It looked nasty, swollen, red, purple, at an unhealthy angle. I wasn’t feeling much pain or anything at all. Just a warm, background fuzz telling me that something was wrong with it. I couldn’t move it much at all, it was stiff as a board.

If I want to save everyone, I can’t do it without sacrifice.

I inhaled, one long gasp of breath, and sighed. I was almost content as the fear washed out of me and I felt myself think clearly for a short moment.

I’ve paid the price. I’ve compromised my morals and ideals, I’ve forced others against their will, I’ve been wounded, and I’ve killed in return. I’ve suffered, but everyone else will live for it. This much should be enough.

“Are you alright?” The wolf asked me.

I didn’t notice him approach at all. I had stopped paddling altogether and only then did I notice that we were stuck against a tree on my side and the wolf had come over to push us away again.

“I… yeah. I think so.”

He snorted. “So, you can be somewhat calm. Good. Sit back. I will take the rowing from here. Savior.”

Thank the gods.

“I’ll keep a lookout.” I said.

I can be useful, even without a paddle.

He nodded, then leaned himself against the tree and pushed with all his might. I half crawled, half crouch-walked over to the other side of the raft to keep up the balance. The monarchs were quiet, mostly, and those that were talking again had fallen back to calmly babbling among each other.

“For reference.” The wolf said as he stepped on over to his side again. “That is what a true demon looks like.”

We all knew what that was referring to. I sighed, realizing that I didn’t want to argue and that if I did, I’d just be left with more things to think and worry about. I couldn’t think anymore. I just wanted to go home.

At least it’s quiet now.

It was, in all directions, and between ash trees, submerged rotting branches and broken stone monuments of nature and civilization, the bog looked once more like it would never end.

Then, the branches crept on to our float and all hell broke loose.