Veline awoke me before the sun rose and I quickly packed up our camp. The magical fire still burned till I took a few handfuls of dirt and threw it on the circle. It sputtered and disappeared as the circle was broken, allowing me to destroy the rest. Hopefully, there was little left in the way of traces of a camp. Off we set again, another day's travel ahead of us. Veline did her best to cover up herself and took off to hide in the other place.

There was little in terms of society out this far now. A farm came into view some time after the sun rose. It sat silent and cold in the winter air, a dead cow laying frozen in a pen. The windows were broken and the door lay broken in. I stared at it for a few moments, the sounds of that day filtering back to me. How many such places were there then? Those farms near the cities had at least the advantage of a potentially quick response.

Yet what caught my attention was the sound of a shoveling somewhere behind the place. I made my way up the path towards the house. After listening carefully for a few moments, I called out, "Hello?"

The sound of bigging stopped and a second of silence followed. Then, cautiously, the person replied, "Behind the house. I warn you, it is not a pretty sight."

Quietly, I readied myself for a potential attack and made my way around slowly. The wall of the house was broken outwards and the obvious remains of a crib were smashed against the ground. I forced myself to not think about the meaning of it as I moved.

Behind the house stood a man in a heavy set of clothing. His hair was a bit messy and he was burying something relatively small. Calmly, he glanced at me with a pair of mournful eyes. Around his neck was a pendant holding the symbol of two hands held out in a cupped gesture. There was another hole, about the size of a person by the one he had just finished filling. A mauled form of a partially frozen woman lay on the ground.

The man put the tip of the shovel into the ground and said, "I am Havar, priest of the Sparing Grace. Did you know these two?"

I shook my head and said, "No. Merely heard the noise of you digging."

He frowned and sighed, looking at the remains. He stood stiffly, glancing at me. For a split second, his eyes shifted off past a hill. His tone was soft and forlorn as he said, "Then I'll have to make due without their names, I fear. Rare to see a traveler, though you seem far less concerned about such as most would be. Adventurer?"

I couldn't help but stare at the small grave as I said, "Something of the sort, more properly called a mage, though."

Havar made sure the blade of the shovel was firm in the ground before picking up his sack and moving over to the woman. He asked, hesitating for a moment, "Mind staying and giving them a proper see off? Even if they must go unnamed, at least they go with more than me to see them off. Even a stranger may give the poor souls some comfort as their bodies are put to rest."

I nodded and remained quiet as he worked. He seemed so resigned as he performed some ritual. No fear, only certainty in the grim work he did. His back remained to me almost the entire time, but he remained so oddly tense. I couldn't tell if he knew who I was, but his actions didn't speak to that.

Havar wrapped the body in a thick cotton looking set of gauze after placing two drops of water from a bottle over what was left of the body's eyes. Then, before applying the final layer, he placed a dried flower on the body. He asked, "Mind helping me move her?"

I cautiously approached, but he merely remained standing calmly at the head of the prepared corpse. Together, we gently put the remains down into the hole and the priest waved me back while saying, "You seem far less squeamish than most. Ah, but your eyes speak of much worse things. Frightful in their own right actually. Thank you, I suppose..."

He took up his shovel and began the slow work to bury the body. I was fine waiting for him to finish. Veline would likely not understand or even care, but this somehow felt humanizing to me. Even more, it was one more moment to remind me why I fight. I couldn't ever lose the will to fight. Should I falter, this would be the world. The priest said, his voice still holding that sad tone, "You aren't what I expected, to be honest."

My body didn't tense but a frown appeared on my face, yet he stood quietly, so I waited for him to continue. After a few seconds, he glanced at me and shook his head. Shovel full after shovel full, he worked. Only when it was done did he end my concerns by saying, "I wasn't expecting you to have enough heart to let me finish. I suppose fate is a cruel thing, isn't it?"

Slowly he turned to me, pulling a pair of knives from its hiding place in his clothing. A simple looking dagger glinted in the light as he faced me. Calmly, I left my foot shift and took a stance as I said, "Had you not said anything, I'd have left this be."

The priest's sad face didn't shift as he nodded. He motioned to a small bag by the stone wall, saying, "It's medicines. I don't have any reason to suspect you'll do it, but could you take them to Altdersburge?"

Then he launched himself at me without waiting for a response. The fist move was to stab me directly in the gut. I twisted out of the way as he brought the other down towards me. I jumped back and summoned forth the ghostly spear, driving it forward.

Havar went to strike the shaft away, but his eyes widened as the blade passed right through it. The point buried itself firmly in his chest at a downward angle. I frowned, staring the man directly in the eyes. His expression fell to one of realization. The weapon vanished from my hands and he fell to his knees, gripping at the spot, muttering, "Please...take them..."

The man lowered his head. I heard him make a sharp inhale as I formed a sword in my hand again. As much as I felt bad for it, this was just how it had to be now. I raised the blade and said, "Ok."

I brought the blade down. Then, my blood ran cold as someone screamed out, "HAVAR!!!"

My eyes slowly raised to the direction of the noise. There, running over that hill, I saw a blonde haired guy with a sword in hand. He looked to be just a teenager. I sneered as he approached, readying myself.

It was just my luck he wasn't alone somehow. Whatever was the case, I readied myself again. Holding out my hand, I let the power of magic gather. As soon as he was near, I let out the gout of flame. Yet, to my suprise, he dropped and drove forward. Side stepping I brought the flame about, he rolled back and stood there with his weapon at the ready.

He glared at me while saying, "You bastard! Why?!"

I frowned at him, feeling a bit of pity for the kid. I said, "If you don't know, then it's better off you don't know."

The boy hesitated but tightened the grip on his sword. Once again he came at me. Clumsily he took slash after slash at me, wildly. Still, despite that, I found it harder to dodge than Su'Galo. I jumped back as the blade passed by my face, my eyes flashed to the bag, and I moved to get away from it.

I summoned forth the ghostly chain and threw it forth, but the kid knocked it aside, shouting, "He was my friend, you monster!"

I dispelled the chain and didn't reply. The teen was clearly now trying to find some angle to attack me from as he tried to circle me. Yet I was easily able to maneuver him away from that bag. If he didn't know, I didn't want to kill him. I muttered, "Run away, would you?"

I watched tears form in his eyes and he lunged at me, both hands on the hilt of his weapon. I spun and summoned forth the ghostly form of a knife. I drove it downward towards his arm. If he couldn't fight, perhaps his courage would wane. The kid then suddenly spun and brought the sword up. I took a sharp inhale and stepped back, yet the blade's tip struck along and dragged up my chest. The knife faded and he brought the sword back down.

I thrusted my other hand forward and let out a blast of magic in the form of nothing but force. The kid was sent flying and his sword twirled free of him. He hit the ground, rolled a few feet, and struggled up as quickly as he could. The sword fell atop the room and the boy grunted in pain as he gripped his side. I touched my own wound, realizing Veline would now be bolting towards us. With a grim tone I said, "This isn't the place to die."

His eyes looked to the body of Havar and his eyes turned to me with a glare. He sputtered out, "Why?! Why did you kill him!? He only helped people, you fucking monster!"

It felt weird, staring at someone beaten down yet with a heart full of righteous anger. With a sigh I said, "You stay, I'll kill you."

The boy shook his head and shouted, "I am supposed to be a hero! Heroes don't run away!"

My face tightened into a darker stare. That set of words set a strange tingling through my body. My determination flared at the words. I had to make certain, though. I asked, in wander tongues, "Do you understand these words, hero?"

His eyes narrowed and he said nothing, but I could just see that he had. An almost hunger-like urge began to grow as I asked, "You are supposed to be a hero?"

He grunted in pain as he re-steadied himself. The physical ability the guy had shown seemed almost supernatural. It had to be his gift. Yet here, he was unarmed and weakened. His eyes were scanning for the blade he lost, no doubt. Slowly the supposed hero said, "I am Morgan. I was chosen by a god of justice! He said I'd be this world's hero!"

The words echoed in my head for a moment as blood dripped from my wound as my hand slowly moved away from it. Almost like a madness, I stepped forward, raising my hand. This was a chance I couldn't abandon. The ghostly blue visage of a sword appeared and I said in a terrible calm, "We five must survive for the bell to be rung. If you die, then that's impossible."

He stepped back, his eyes widened, and I drove forward. First strike he dodged and he punched my stomach. Still stronger and faster than anyone in his state should have been. Yet, to do so, he had to move forward a bit. So, with the momentum, I slammed the blade into his side. His eyes slowly widened as I staggered back, letting go.

He stood there as the blade was dispelled, still on his side. Morgan's knee buckled and he went down on it. I growled out, "Dying is the best thing you can do for this world, sense I can't."

The young man gripped the spot, not falling over. It infuriated me to see him managing to stay awake. I couldn't help but to wonder if I had failed to hit anything. He asked, weak in voice, "W-why?"

Veline arrived, dashing over to me through the air, catching me. At that moment, an arrow barely missed my head, and buried itself in the wall. Without hesitation, Veline darted off, holding me as best as she could with her tail.

I grabbed up the straps of the bag leaning against the wall as we passed. I didn’t really even think about the act at that moment. Eventually, I let myself slip into unconsciousness, leaving the rest to my pact partner.