“Lord Anodias was a decent sort. Not the type ta whip a man, but not the man to stay his sword from those that deserved. A good sort, I s’pose. Taxes were a tad high, but fair for the most. Laws decent. Not a bad ruler t’all,” Gramps said, still petting his beard as if some animal. “He got married to this Underdweller see. A demon. Not sure quite what race, but pertier than a succubus workin’ nights at the highland whorehouse. And see, Anodias loved er much. Real much… uhh… Lady Sunaertialla… ya, that be her name.”

He nodded to himself, likely picturing her in his memories. “Lord Anodias took sick one winter’s eve four years back, and he got worse and worse. One day, criers went out announcin’ that in night he passed. Left Sunaetialla as ruler.” His finger rose, wagging in the air. “Now some say she poison’d him. Others say that ‘er tears shed were real. No one right knows but ‘er, I imagine.”

With a little sigh he placed his hand on his walking stick, rocking back and forth thoughtfully. “Two months later, she leaves all o’ sudden. Don’t look back. And Kamra takes ‘er place. Rumor has it Sunaertialla headed back to Underworld. Sold the Wuudsaw for a fiefdom down under… not quite sure, but bein’ a demon an all, wouldn’t be surprised if the truth it be.”

“Now, with Kamra things got might ugly real quick. Any who looked ‘er way wrong, or wrong way toward her thrall, got done tossed in the clink. A lot of Lord Anodias’ old elders and leaders just up and poofed,” he waved his hand in the air, quickly opening and closing his fist. “Like rain in a desert, lad. No one could find em. No doubt Kamra gave ‘em the shiv and burned ‘em to cinders.”

“Taxes shot up fast’r than weeds in May. Also taxed on blood too…” He motioned toward Britheer, Yla, and their kids. Each had the pronged marks on the sides of their necks. “Take it right from ‘em, they do… with this metal contrap’n they ‘ave.” Four fingers bent into the shape of a prong. “Like this. Metal. Bites right well int’a the neck and takes the blood right outta ya. Disgustin’ thing.”

With a shiver Yla whispered, “They called it… milking the herd.” Britheer lightly held her in comfort.

“Right so! Damned vamps keep weak’r races as farm animals!” Gramps huffed and slammed his stick into the ground. “Movin’ onward, the laws they got real fierce. Spit the wrong way and I swear, they’d be lookin’ to give ya a lashin’. We out here was lucky since soldiers only dropped in once or twice week to collect taxes and do head counts. Nothin’ too bad. Though they be mud sucking scum bullies through and through. The city of Wuudburrow though… they got it real bad. Might real bad. Wuudburrow be where the lord’s house be. Now Kamra’s home city.”

Sensing him about to go off on a tangent, I gently guided him by asking, “Then what earned their ire to this extent?”

“Hmmm?” Gramps nodded, “Right, this… this. Well, Lonely Briar be far enough out that we kepta lot o’ freedom. Huntin’ especially. Kamra said we couldn’t hunt no more, but if we did it careful like, they wouldn’t know.”

Britheer added, “Without meat, we couldn’t sustain ourselves just on our grown fruits and vegetables. Being bled so often and under such a heavy tax burden…” He didn’t have to finish. It was obvious… if they didn’t eat meat, they would have starved to death. No wonder so many of the corpses looked malnourished.

Gramps dipped his head and continued, more solemnly than before. “Two o’ our hunters headed out a couple days past. Planned on being back real quick to avoid missin’ the tax collection; the soldiers ain’t take too kindly when some’un misses it. And… then them clouds showed up. Stretched across the sky they did! Weirder than a cat pricked by a pear bush, I tell ya. Some ritual I bet. Maybe some-”

“They returned late,” Britheer stopped his father’s bantering, earning a fiery glare from the old man.

My heart sunk at that. They had been late… because of me. Technically they attacked me, but I had played a role in Lonely Briar’s untimely demise. A pang of guilt hit me, but I just pushed it away. It truly wasn’t my fault. They had come after me. I had just defended myself. It was their actions that caused it. Not mine.

And yet, it still hurt.

Britheer’s voice lessened, to that of a whisper. “They arrived the day of the collection. When they showed up with the meat… the soldiers were very displeased.”

Gramps tapped his stick and nodded heartily, “Ticked madder than old Manny when those chickens whiten his fence! Old Crandor, he was one of the hunters, see? Well, Crandor spun a tale about this crazy demon mage and a goddess and all this here other tall tales. The vamps, they none take kindly to lying… eventually ticked ‘em off so much that the soldiers… well, shout something about a Culling. My boy here grabs us and pulls us to the house.”

Britheer’s face went dark as he looked down, “I knew what they meant. I had heard the term before. I knew we couldn’t run to the forest and survive, so the basement was the only choice. The only hope we had.”

“And the dumb vamps just torched the place, thinkin’ we be hidin’ inside and’d run out. But instead, they just passed o’er us, thinkin’ the fires took us,” Gramps continued. “Was there for the night… and tried ta get out, but ain’t worked.”

“The night…” Yla whispered gently with a quivering voice. “Many… screams.” She hugged her daughter close.

“Terrible thing. Terr’ble…” Gramps said with a nod. “And that there’s the story.” With a clap of his hands he exited his story mode and nodded approvingly to his tale.

He grew silent as his mind began to realize something. “Well shoot an apple outta me beard, we’ll have ta’ leave Wuudsaw fer good… I bet. Ain’t can’t be seen anymore by the soldiers.” A silence fell over the survivors. A deathly silence. A silence filled with dread of the future, and a waning hope that they would even survive or find happiness again.

I could see it so clearly. Even Gramps couldn’t find the words to break the heavy silence.

I knew I could just leave. Say my farewells and let them manage on their own. But then again… I felt an obligation to at least see them safely to another village. At least.

“What is the closest village that’s safe?” I asked.

Britheer answered, “Swallow Lake. Half a day by foot. As long as the soldiers aren’t there for taxes… it’s safe.”

“Aye. ’Ave a couple war buddies there too. Good men. Scroungy as dogs and smell as much, but good men.”

“But getting there is…” Britheer whispered, looking at his sword.

“Forest be rife with teeth enough before. But now… the dead… the dead ‘ere pull even more scroungers for a feastin’ on human bones. Well, s’pose it ain’t that bad. There be a chance.”

“I could accompany you to Swallow Lake,” I offered. They looked up at me. Obviously they had been hoping I would offer. “I am not skilled with a sword, but my magic can be a force to reckon with.” Before Yla or Britheer could speak, Gramps hopped up and clasped his hands around mine so quickly Ivy startled.

He grinned, “Lord Chaon, ya be a might good person in my book. Right good!”

Offering a smile, I pat his hand, “Thank you.” Internally I though, ‘I hope so.’

It took nearly an hour for Britheer and I to scavenge all the supplies and Crysts we could from Lonely Briar. It proved a struggle for him as he hated robbing the dead… especially the dead he knew so well… but I encouraged him with a simple ‘They would want you to take it and survive.’ It worked.

I hated robbing the dead too. But they were dead. I wasn’t. I wanted it to stay that way.

With the only good wheelbarrow left in the entirety of the town, we headed out along the road leading to Swallow Lake. Everything found, from shirts to tools to food, sat in the wheelbarrow pulled by Britheer. Gramps walked along with the two eldest children while Yla carried the youngest. I took the front, along with Ivy and Ditto.

The dirt road was wide enough for two wagons to pass each other with a little space to spare. It wove through the trees, cut sheerly through on a winding way to settlements beyond. The tree line clung to both sides with such thickness that they served as walls, keeping travelers conveniently trapped and blind to whatever the forest wished to spit in their direction.

Thankfully the day reigned supreme, with a cloudless sky heralding a pleasant warmth that tickled the head and delighted the eyes. Every stretch of road could easily be surveyed till a future bend pulled it out of sight.

I enjoyed it. Relished it. After that hell… I just wanted to focus on the moment. Focus on breathing. On Ivy’s presence. On placing one foot before the next. On the crinkle of dirt beneath my boots. On the breath of the wild dancing through Ivy’s hair and causing it to wave so enchantingly.

If anything came out at us, I would have to fight it. Chaos had mentioned goblins. Wolves. I wondered what other possible horrors waited within the shadows. What could be watching. But, I shunned the thoughts and continued trying to enjoy the walk.

After an hour we slowed to a rest; Gramps and the children quickly tiring. It didn’t bode well for travel time as afternoon befell us and Britheer promised the walk was half a sun’s day; six hours. At our pace, I wagered eight or more.

We sat on the side of the road. Ivy picked flowers and placed them in Ditto, creating a flowery crown for the crimson slime. Yla tended to the kids who were mostly watching Ivy. Gramps just sipped on a bottle of whiskey we had found. Britheer worked on trying to make space for one of the kids in the wheelbarrow. Eventually he succeeded.

Once rested, we were walking again. Slowly. Britheer was up near the front with me, with the second youngest sitting in the wheelbarrow.

While we walked, in my peripheral I noticed Britheer’s eyes kept falling to Ivy, then myself, then Ivy. Over and over. At first I tried to ignore it. As a pair, we were obviously bizarre. But he continued for so long that my curiosity grew and patience wore thin.

Finally I asked him about it. “Is something wrong with Ivy and I?” Ivy glanced back at him, but then quickly returned to surveying the nature we passed.

“No,” Britheer’s head quickly shook and he offered a small bow. “I did not mean to offend.”

“You didn’t. But I am curious as to why you are so interested. Earlier you were doubtful of my claim that of Ivy being a summon. Now you cannot seem to tear your eyes off either of us.”

He smiled lightly, “You noticed that… huh?”

“I did.”

“I do not doubt you, Lord Chaon… but I am confused.”

‘Well that’s downright ambiguous…’ I thought before asking, “About…?”

“Your Alraune. A year ago I left to work with a guild. Just a month to earn a little extra. There, I worked with a summoner who enjoyed teaching me about the art. He mentioned that there exist races that cannot be contracted by summoners whatsoever, as the binding does not hold.”

He nodded toward Ivy, “Alraune are included in that list.”

I cocked an eyebrow and gave a slow dip of my head, quickly trying to come up with a believable reply. “I am one of the few exceptions to that rule.”

“Really? That is quite… powerful,” his voice held awe and surprise.

“I am very fortunate indeed,” I said.

“Indeed,” He replied, letting the conversation die away. We walked along. Calm.

Internally I was panicking. Chaos had declared Spirit based magic was impossible, even for her… and yet I could do it. Now I just learned that contracting Alraune was unheard of by the trained summoner… and yet, I was contracted to an Alraune.

The laws of the world were bending left and right when it came to me… the Oracle had mentioned that I was a world bender or something. I never assumed it to be so literal!

Did the natural laws truly have so little sway on me?! What else could I break? Bend? Reform?

I was excited. Anticipation caused my heart to leap. But I was also terrified of myself and what I could possibly become; the shadow of what I had seen still fresh in my mind. This… Kamra held great power, and she caused senseless death and suffering. Chaos was extremely powerful… and she caused chaos, thrived on sadism, and held no qualms with others’ suffering.

They both took lives. Did the powerful in Mortalis trample the weak so easily? The Hated? Demons? Already the world was so dark and growing darker by the moment. And I was inside it, with the growing realization that I could bend the tenants of the world’s very fabric to my whims.

But at what cost?

Already I had killed several mistakingly… and I knew I was willing to kill intentionally when threatened.

‘When I can literally mold the world…’ I wondered to myself, ‘What will I mold it into?’

What would Mortalis mold Chaon into?

With the decision to help these people, I had made a choice to not throw away my humanity, but that begged the question regarding the parameters of that humanity. Would I be willing to sacrifice myself for them? If we were attacked and we had to flee, would I leave them behind? If I were there during Lonely Briar’s slaughter, what would I have done?

I had no idea, and that grew more and more terrifying with every step. I wanted to believe I would be the hero… but another part of me revealed that to be a lie. I wanted to live. I wasn’t going to waste my new life like that.

Glancing behind me, I looked over the troupe. They were simple people, living a simple, hard life. They were all that was left of Lonely Briar… peasants. Weak. Boats tossed within the stormy sea and forced to ride the waves of fate because they weren’t strong enough to fight it.

Unlike a Thalwesse whose boat could practically fly.

A random thought crossed my mind. ‘I could do anything I wanted right now… and they couldn’t stop me. No one would stop me. No one but Chaos would ever know.’

It caused a cold shiver to run through me. Part of me loved the thought of being so powerful. Of no repercussions. Of knowing I could do whatever I wanted to whoever I wanted someday. Possibly. Maybe even becoming a god of gods… the ruler of all Mortalis.

But wouldn’t I become another Chaos? Kamra? A monster? Absolute power corrupted absolutely… as I had already seen so surely.

Abruptly Ivy and I slowed when our ears picked up the sound of something ahead. Movement in the bushes, a gentle break of a twig, the low, excited breathing of something small. A few of them, hiding, waiting in ambush.

‘I bet Goblins,’ I thought. Reaching behind me, I gripped the handle of my sword and began to slide it free, the smooth metal gliding with the motion. Thinking about the future was going to have to wait for the moment.

But… whatever the future held… I needed to start thinking about what Chaon would become. Who would I be? Hero, villain, or something in between?