The two travelers enjoyed a meal of bread and meat, then Glaide took out his map.
“Remember when I asked you to show me where you lived?” Glaide began. “Well, I’ve another question now: when you drew your village on my map, you drew it next to the forest of the elves, but then you added extra trees to surround it. What did you actually mean by that?”
Mehrika laughed a little in reply.
“My village is actually built in a sort of clearing. It’s not really in the middle forest of the elves, though, but rather on the outskirts of it.”
“So then, it’s not really in a clearing.”
“It is, because a line of trees protect the village. When we arrive, it will look like we’re at the entrance to the forest of the elves, but just a few hundred yards in, you’ll reach our village, which was built at the actual entrance to the forest of the elves.”
“Hmmm... To get there, then, you need a guide. That’s quite a good defense,” the boy concluded. They were quiet for a moment, then Mehrika spoke up again.
“Glaide, I... I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” Glaide looked at her quizzically, but she kept her gaze fixed on the ground, and he let her continue. “You agreed to accompany me without even knowing where I came from, or who I was. Throughout our journey, and despite my silence, you always kept up your good humor, and you never stopped telling me about your adventures. You kept my mind off my memories, and even if I couldn’t reply to you, your voice and your words warmed my heart. Even if we never really had conversations, I feel like I know you even better than I know myself. Thank you for trusting me like that.” Her voice broke a little from the emotion. Glaide remained silent, not sure what to say. “Remember when we stopped in the woods? Where the hot springs were?” Glaide nodded in reply. “You told me about the nomads you met, and of their unwavering willpower, and everything they’d accomplished, and for a moment, through your words, I felt everything they did. I was reminded of how vast the world is, and... that life is worth the pain of living...”
Glaide remembered the scene perfectly, and how, at the end of his monologue, the young woman whose name he still had not known had taken his hands in hers in thanks. Now, the girl had her gaze fixed on the fire, and the adolescent, who felt deeply touched by her words, decided to say nothing. He knew that the gratitude Mehrika felt was beyond words, and his own feelings were, too.
About half an hour later, he murmured quietly, “It’s late, and we should get some sleep.”
She smiled, then lay down on the ground and closed her eyes.
The next day, just as the girl had said, the two travelers spotted a number of stands of trees. From their position on the top of a great rock that was itself at the top of a tall hill, Glaide realized that this place could shelter a great community of people. He realized, too, that each patch of woods was close enough to the next to let someone pass from one to another without being out in the open for more than a few minutes. Even with as little as he knew about the elves, he could be sure these woods would have been veritable fortresses for them—though built by nature. As he approached, a question formed in his mind.
“Tell me, Mehrika,” he began, “do you know if there is much risk of encountering any enemies here? Our journey has been very calm up until now, which has surprised me.” Actually, Glaide had been wondering for a while now just what reaction Baras might have had to learning about what happened in Zakorth. Logically, one could assume he didn’t know it was the Destroyer, but if the tavern’s occupants had described him, it was possible the god might have recognized him from it. The young man didn’t really think that was the case, though. He made a passable vagabond, and the little scuffle he’d set off shouldn’t have revealed who he was. Actually, he hoped that the inhabitants of Zakorth, embarrassed by what had happened, had mentioned none of it to Baras at all.
“Hardly anyone, monster or other, comes here,” replied Mehrika. “There are no large villages in the area, and we’re close to the home of the elves.”
“But it’s still possible we might come across some adversaries,” Glaide concluded.
“It’s possible,” the girl admitted. “In any case, we can’t really assume we’re safe until we’ve reached my village.”
The adolescent felt a sense of foreboding fill him. Yet again, he tried to imagine just what his enemy might have planned. Was it possible he might have sent troops out to search for Mehrika? After all, the boy didn’t know much about his companion. If capturing her was important to him, Baras would do everything possible to get her back, just as he was ready to do anything to get rid of the Destroyer. Glaide made his sword appear at his side, and his companion touched his arm as she spoke up.
“Do you think we’re being followed?”
“One or the other of us, perhaps. And if we have to fight here, that would mean that Baras is after you.”
“Do you think he’d know we were coming this way?”
“It’s easy enough to come to the conclusion that you’d try to return home.”
“But why wouldn’t he have attacked us before, then?”
“Well, two possibilities immediately come to mind: he might want to ambush us, so then he’d want to get ahead of us. Or secondly, he probably didn’t know exactly what route we would have taken; if he only knew our destination, then there are an infinite number of routes we could have taken, and he couldn’t wait for us directly before your village, because that would be too close to the elves.”
“So then, these patches of woods here would be the best place to attack us, since we’d have to pass through them to reach our destination,” Mehrika finished, her face impassive. “And then, we won’t be able to count on any reinforcements. So, which of the two is more likely to be true?”
“Probably both.” To his surprise, his companion showed neither astonishment nor fear. She simply nodded, her face grave.
“If you, too, are being searched for by Baras, and we come across any of his disciples, you will have to fight. If even one of them escapes, they’ll tell their master that I was with you, and they may reveal who you are.”
“And then we can say goodbye to my anonymity. In any case, I won’t be able to remain a secret forever. The dwarves, barbarians, and elves all know about me, and I’ve already announced to one village that I’m the Destroyer. The rumor will continue to spread, and I won’t be able to hide forever.”
“But if Baras finds your trail, he’ll hunt you down,” Mehrika exclaimed. “How will you ever find your friends with a horde of monsters on your tail?”
“If I can’t find them, I’ll just have to head for Shinozuka and lead the troops against our adversary,” Glaide replied calmly. “Don’t worry. I told you I would accompany you back to your home, and that is exactly what I’m going to do. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
To put an end to the conversation, the young man headed into the trees.
Chapter 13
FOR a few minutes, they were surrounded by a heavy, menace-filled silence that neither of them dared break. Soon, it became so oppressive that it was almost a relief when Glaide suddenly heard cries.
“They’re coming from up ahead,” he declared, his face dark. With a movement both calm and precise, the adolescent detached the belt that held the sheathed dagger he’d purchased from the merchant. The boy held it out to his companion, who looked back and forth from the young man to the weapon he held in his hand. “Take it,” Glaide said simply. “It’s yours. You’ve conquered your past, and it no longer has any hold on you. Take this blade, and fight if need be.” There was no time to discuss the matter any further, and inside, he hoped against hope that Mehrika had vanquished her fear of weapons at the same time that she’d conquered her silence... and he wasn’t wrong. Though with a certain amount of reticence, she took the belt.
“Perhaps I can just borrow it for now...” She murmured. Glaide nodded, and watched her buckle the belt on. He felt a certain amount of pride as h
e watched, though he wasn’t sure exactly where it came from. Perhaps it was pride to be the guardian and protector of someone who was so strong herself?
Then, he headed forward, the young woman on his heels, neither of them trying to hide. The closer they came, the more of the sounds the boy was able to identify, and he was soon sure that it was combat, just as he’d initially thought. Or at least, he hoped it was combat, and not a massacre. He felt reassured when they stepped into a shaded clearing: the houses there were still standing, and the cries that were echoing around him were certainly not those of the dead. Mehrika caught up to him then, out of breath.
“Wait here, and stay out of sight,” he called to her as he drew his sword and headed towards the center of the village, where the homes formed a circle around the commons. That seemed to be the source of the battle sounds. As he ran, the young man wondered if there were any warriors here to lend a hand, but he felt reassured yet again once he’d arrived there: he saw a number of soldiers already engaged in battle, wearing armor and accompanied by what seemed to be some kind of militia, if he could judge from the decorations on their capes. Without a thought, Glaide plunged into the melee. It had been a while since he’d last found himself in battle, or done any training for that matter, and using the techniques and positions Kezthrem had taught him once again felt amazing, especially since his allies—the men in armor, in particular—were excellent combatants, so that the adolescent didn’t have to worry for their safety. Their adversaries—mostly orks, though accompanied by an occasional black ork or goblin—were vanquished in minutes. However, just as Glaide prepared to sheath his sword, a cry rang out at his back. He spun just in time to see that his companion, dagger in hand, had come out of hiding to just strike down an ork who, as it fled, had tried to kill a woman and her child.
“Mehrika, no!” he cried. But the damage had already been done; out of the corner of his eye, he saw a goblin who had been fleeing the melee stop dead in his tracks in recognition of the young woman. Then, he began to cry out piercingly, making a sound almost like hysterical laughter, all while fleeing.
“Stop him,” roared Glaide. “Don’t let him escape!” The other combatants had bows and arrows and crossbows, but they weren’t enough, and the goblin escaped. “He knows who Mehrika is, and he’ll certainly talk about me, too,” the adolescent thought angrily. He couldn’t blame his companion, though. He’d told her to be prepared for such a risk, and besides, she’d managed to save two lives. He decided he’d better not talk to her yet, because he was too upset, so he approached the warriors instead. One gave out an order for the soldiers to search the area for any villagers that had gone into hiding, before turning to the boy.
“Whoever you are, thank you for helping us.”
“Where did those creatures come from?” Glaide asked in reply.
“They were part of a larger group that passed through the forest a few days ago. We thought they’d leave us in peace, but it seems they split up into search parties. The ones we killed must have been put in charge of this area. I wonder what they wanted...”
The young man decided it might be wiser not to reveal that the object of their search was here with him, since Baras’ forces wouldn’t expect them to stay here anyway. “You fought well,” he noted, trying to change the subject. “Especially the men in armor, and the fact that they had time to put on their armor is proof that you were waiting for this attack, isn’t it?”
“That’s very perceptive of you,” the other replied. “You’re right, though. Some of the inhabitants of a village to the east warned us of the danger. Their own home was razed to the ground, and they fled here and warned us. We had time to evacuate our village, with the exception of the woman your friend saved, who must have gotten lost, or was missed somehow. The warriors you spoke of a moment ago are professional soldiers, and they work in some other villages, though their families live here. We were lucky that they happened to be home for a visit. The others are the militia of this village, led by me.” Looking at the fellows in question, Glaide figured they were probably out-of-work mercenaries who’d decided to settle down here, providing protection for the villagers at the same time. He decided not to ask about them, though.
“Another village was destroyed, then?”
“Indeed,” the man replied soberly. “There were great losses, unfortunately; not everyone had time to flee. But where are you two headed?”
“My friend and I are headed east, so we have to pass through this forest.” The warrior’s eyes lit up a bit at his comment, though he hesitated for a moment before finally seeming to make up his mind.
“If you’re headed east... Would it... Would it be too much to ask you to verify whether or not there are any other survivors from that village? We don’t want to leave here in case of another attack, but if some have survived, you could tell them that they will find shelter here. The village isn’t far, less than a mile away.” Glaide understood the man’s motivations perfectly, and he would do anything to save lives, himself. At the mere thought of seeing carnage like he and Kezthrem had encountered on the way back from the temple, though, Glaide felt his courage evaporate. Plus, he didn’t want to risk Mehrika going mute again, when her recovery was still so recent. She was the one who spoke in his place, however. She’d come up behind them during the discussion, and she spoke confidently.
“We’ll head that way, and we’ll help anyone who needs it.”
“Mehrika, are you sure?” Glaide asked, concern filling his voice. She nodded without the slightest hesitation, however. After all, hadn’t she just managed to use the exact dagger that just days earlier had left her trembling in fear?”
“Thank you so much,” exclaimed the man. With that, they took their leave of him. Before setting out, they would need to buy some more provisions, and bathe, if that was possible. Everything they asked for was given to them freely, but Glaide noticed that everyone who saw his companion looked surprised by her, just like the merchant who had sold them her clothes. The adolescent mentioned it to his companion, who laughed a little. She replied that her village was small, so that it was unusual to come across someone with her particular features elsewhere. Glaide deduced from that that she was not the only one like her, though he still had learned nothing about her origins.
They got back on the road in the middle of the afternoon. Though he did his best to hide it, Glaide dreaded what they were likely to see a little ways farther. As the minutes passed, he took constant whiffs of the air around them, trying to catch a hint of smoke. Nothing seemed to have been burned, though, and the two travellers were both caught off guard when, coming around a corner, they founded themselves face to face with the ruins of a house.
“And here we are,” Glaide murmured quietly. “Are you sure you want to go in?” In response, the young woman stepped forward and headed into what had been a village just the day before. Unlike in the one he and Kezthrem had discovered, it was obvious that here the villagers had been prepared. Everything lay in ruins, but the roads were not strewn with cadavers. No one seemed to have been taken by surprise, and Glaide didn’t see a single dead body. Glaide rejoiced a bit at that, and felt his courage return a little.
“Hello? Is there anyone here?” Mehrika called out. “We’ve come to tell you that there is a village to the west that will welcome you. You don’t have to come out, but don’t stay here... There may still be monsters in the area.” Glaide listened to her announcement, and wondered if anyone was there to hear. He was surprised by how confident her voice was, when he himself would have been hard-pressed to get out more than a whisper. It took all that he had just to suppress the images that kept trying to fill his mind. He forced himself to focus on the little boy he and his master had saved, to keep the other memories at bay.
The two travelers came to the last of the houses then. It was set a ways away from the others, and had probably been the first to be attacked. As they passed in front of it, the boy noticed a strange smell. He drew close to the
door, and one kick was all it took to knock the door off its hinges. Inside, the smell was stronger, but in the dimness of the room, he couldn’t see anything. He headed towards a window with closed shutters, while Mehrika waited at the entrance. He struck the plank of wood, and it splintered open with just one blow. He turned then to see where the smell was coming from, and the sight before him made his blood freeze in his veins. An entire family had been massacred here. There was blood everywhere, and the bodies lay contorted in strange positions, their eyes wide open and sightless. Glaide found his voice frozen in his throat; he felt paralyzed with horror at the sight.
As Mehrika stepped into the house, he gained back some control, and managed to rush outside. He lacked the strength to keep his companion from seeing the butchery, though—in fact, the thought never even crossed his mind. He could do nothing but vomit. His mind was spinning, his thoughts an incomprehensible din. He fell to his knees, shaking uncontrollably, unable to focus his thoughts. Eventually, some of his strength returned, he calmed down a bit, and his reason returned. Then, his first thought was for the young woman.
“Mehrika,” he called out weakly. “Don’t go in!” He felt torn between the desire to flee, and the necessity to see his companion. Finally, he got control of himself, and—though still shaking—approached the house once more. It took everything he had in him to convince himself to face the terrible spectacle again, especially because he fully expected to find Mehrika in a state of shock, unable to move or speak. The reality was entirely different, however. She was in the process of moving from one body to the next, her face unreadable. She seemed to be checking to see if any of them had survived, and after a few moments, she turned to her companion and announced in a frighteningly emotionless voice, “They’re all dead.”
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