“Watch out below!” Walter shouted to the knights. “She’s in the shadows!”

His warning was too late. The woman-wisp launched out of the shadows at the knights, swinging claws in wild arcs. One clipped Walter, and he winced. Another clipped a knight, and the man screamed in pain and stumbled.

Walter couldn’t focus on the knight, however, because the attacker’s claws had connected the man to something. Feelings of rage and pain washed over him, but beneath it all Walter felt fear. Fear and sorrow.

Fractures of memory entered Walter. A small fishing village, bright cloth dyed with berries for a ceremony, and the stench of too much wine on someone’s breath. All of this came with the feelings of pain, rage, fear, and sorrow.

And then with a start Walter realized the pain was gone. He looked over to see the stumbled knight in the distance, the wisps surrounding him.

“What are you doing?!” Walter shouted. “You can’t leave him!”

“He is already gone,” the knight carrying him said. “One attack from the claw is all it takes from someone without an Inheritance!”

Walter struggled against the knight, trying his best to get out of the man’s grip. If he just got over there in time, he could do something! Or if not him then Flipper! He refused to watch someone die in front of him if he could prevent it. Walter had had enough of death.

Flipper reacted to Walter’s feelings, jumping off the man and onto the ground. The knights didn’t even react, rationalizing the animal’s decision as a crazed beast’s movements. Therefore, it came as a surprise when Flipper hissed a bolt of water at the wisps, scattering them away from the knight.

The woman-wisp hissed in return, hers more a rasp than Flipper’s. It lunged at the small turtle, claws raking at the animal. Flipper snapped his beak at the claw, cleanly severing it from the woman-wisp. The creature howled in pain, sending a shockwave that stumbled the knights.

Flipper matched the howl, using Walter’s given divine energy to craft a large coffin shell to envelop the wisps. The monsters scratched at the shell but were unable to penetrate through it. Flipper squeaked confidently then turned to Walter with a, “did I do good?” expression.

The knights had finally stopped their retreat, letting Walter remove himself from the knight. The warriors all gaped at the small turtle, then at Walter when he picked the little guy up in his arms.

“That was amazing!” Walter laughed.

Flipper nuzzled the man’s shoulder.

The muffled sounds of attacking wisps halted Walter’s praises. He looked over at the coffin shell conjured by his helper.

“What do we do with them?” he asked Flipper.

“You should erase them,” the knight commander said matter-of-factly.

Two more knights moved past to collect their companion, who was on the ground in a fetal position, shivering. Walter sympathized with the man, the flashes of pain he got from the wisp weren’t pretty.

“Daemons are a blight on the earth,” the knight said. “They all deserve to be destroyed.”

Walter looked at the wisps trapped inside the shell. His new soul vision – or whatever the orbs of light were – let him see more than just the wisp’s exterior. Their soul orbs looked no different than the knights, though the woman-wisp’s orb seemed cracked in places.

Maybe Walter could purify them somehow, like he did with the rodent? That was supposed to be his job after all. But Walter could also tell these souls wouldn’t come quietly, likely forcing Walter to drag them away. It felt like a terrible start to soul collecting, and Walter was reminded of Davy’s earlier words. A soul’s impression of Walter would affect him in turn.

“What are you waiting for?” the knight commander asked. “Have your pet destroy them already.”

“He can’t,” Walter said.

It was a spur of the moment decision, because Walter knew Flipper could take the daemons out. But Walter still felt the fear underneath all the daemon’s rage. That, combined with what he saw of their souls, led him to believe more was going on.

“He’s a protector, not a destroyer,” Walter said to the knight. “He can hold the daemons off but can’t kill them.”

“King’s heads,” the knight cursed. “Men! Collect your things and let’s go. The village isn’t far from here and they have a few protections in place.”

The commander turned to Walter, “Your sure your pet can keep that shield up?”

Walter nodded.

“Good.”

With those words, the knight commander scooped Walter up into a fireman’s carry. Flipper jumped on top while another knight grabbed the wounded knight.

The squad booked it out of the area, leaving the wisp daemons behind in a flash.

Walter and the knights arrived at the village as the sun was setting. Men and women in dyed fabrics emerged from reed huts reinforced with mud to see the commotion. Many gasped in surprise as the knights arrived, for many hadn’t seen their kingdom’s defense force.

It was a small village, Walter saw. His soul vision told him there couldn’t be more than a hundred people. A communal bonfire flickered through a circle of houses, bathing the area in orange flame. It mixed with the wine purple setting sun, giving a picturesque quality Walter saw in paintings.

A few animals rested outside the houses, likely something akin to dogs if Walter hazarded a guess. Most of what Sod built seemed to emulate Earth.

A man with a seashell necklace walked up to the group. “Great knights, are you here to heed our distress call?”

“You are the elder?” the knight commander asked as he set Walter down.

The man nodded. “I am Tushen, elder of Pachmar.”

Walter shook his head as he heard two words. The last word the elder spoke came out as both Pachmar and Fish Town. With a start, Walter realized he’d always heard this double speech but filtered out the words he couldn’t understand. It was only now that he knew the words were proper names did the two translations stick.

“I will not lie to you,” the knight commander continued to Tushen. “We were dispatched under the idea that this was a routine beast extermination. Daemons are a different matter and we do not have an inheritance to deal with it.”

“We can not afford to send more messengers!” Tushen growled in anger. “We have lost enough men already!”

Walter looked between the elder and knight, then out toward the rest of the village. It was true, there weren’t many men around the village. Elderly men grasping canes walked out to join the women, while younger children hid behind their mother’s dresses. The women as well looked warily at the knights and Walter.

“I am not asking you to sacrifice more,” the knight commander spat. “I am informing you of the situation. It will take my team days to get a messenger to someone that can use an inheritance. In that time it’s likely the daemons will strike.”

“Useless!” Tushen roared. “What good are knights if they can not protect my village!”

“The village is the king’s,” the knight commander snapped. “You pay taxes to the king, do you not?”

Tushen backed away in fear, “Forgive me. I misspoke. I only wish what’s best for the village.”

Walter caught a few of the women’s faces darken.

“Hope is not lost,” the knight commander stated. He gestured to Walter, “This man is in possession of a divine beast capable of protection. He will help hold off the daemons until our messengers return.”

Walter started. “Hold on—”

“There will be no disagreement,” the commander said. “I know you are not a fighter, and I understand if this makes you upset, but I will not allow the king’s subjects to die while I have power in my hands to protect them.”

Walter grumbled but silenced his argument. He couldn’t fault someone for wishing to protect others.

“I will send my fastest men in the morning,” the commander stated. “Until then, show us lodging for the night.”

Tushen’s face darkened for a moment before returning to neutrality. “Yes, of course. Turum and her family can hold you.”

A young woman stepped forward, though Walter could see she was wary of the knights.

“My thanks,” the commander said.

The woman nodded, leading the knights along by the light of the bonfire. Walter walked past the villagers, smiling at the children and trying to be friendly. They backed away from him, obviously scared of these new intruders.

“Here,” Turum said.

Walter looked at the long reed house in front of him. A young girl around thirteen in Walter’s eyes walked out of the house with a basket of dried fish.

“I said not to come out!” Turum snapped.

“I thought they would be hungry,” the girl said.

“I am sorry,” Turum said. “My daughter doesn’t listen.”

Walter looked in surprise. Turum couldn’t be much older than twenty-five years old.

“It is fine,” the knight commander said. “I appreciate the kindness. However, it has been a long day, and my men will need rest before they leave.”

“Of course,” Turum said. “This way. Others will bring extra blankets soon. It can get cold near the waves.”

The commander nodded and walked inside, his squad following behind. Walter stood at the entrance, taking everything in.

“Are you not coming, great knight?” Turum asked.

“Oh, I’m not a knight,” Walter answered. “They picked me up along the way while I was wandering.”

He held out a hand for her to shake, “My name’s Walter.”

“Vwalter?” Turum asked, ignoring his hand. “What a strange name.”

“Oh! Are you from the isles?” Turum’s daughter asked. “I heard the academics have weird names.”

“Tivwo, do not pester him,” Turum said.

“It was only a question!” Tivwo argued.

“It’s alright,” Walter said. “I know I look like a stranger. To tell the truth, I’m on a bit of a journey at the moment. Exploring the world and all that.”

Tivwo’s eyes lit up. “You must have seen so much! Tell me, are there really fish as large a our village in the oceans?”

Walter laughed. “I haven’t travelled the ocean yet so I can’t tell you.”

“Aww,” Tivwo said.

“I am sorry,” Turum said. “She is at that age where she needs to know everything.”

“It’s alright,” Walter said. Truthfully he needed someone cheerful right now. Too many things were weighing on Walter’s mind.

A old couple arrived with a basket of blankets for everyone to use, and Walter followed Turum inside. He was surprised at the interior of the building.

A woven mat covered the entirety of the building, save the few places around a firepit. Shelves of mud lined the walls, reinforced with more reeds and a few pieces of shell. At the center of everything was the firepit, similar to the bonfire outside but surrounded by cloth mats instead of huts. In this case there were two mats, one for Turum and one for Tivwo.

The knights had situated themselves near the fire and were in the process of removing their armor. The knights took turns helping each other until all that was left was a cotton tunic. Turum handed out blankets, which the knights thankfully grabbed before going to sleep.

Walter accepted a blanket as well, walking over to an out of the way corner to lie down. Flipper, who had hidden himself inside Walter’s shirt when the villagers arrived, jumped out to look around, which caught the attention of Tivwo.

“What is that?!” she asked.