Edrine doesn’t speak of my healing, or any other detail of my capture and escape. And Marlene seems more grateful towards the cleric, despite Taren’s insistence that Edrine doesn’t have my health in mind. Though he also keeps a tight lip on the incident, as if forgetting it will cause Edrine to forget about me.

  But I sense the cleric’s watchful eye, as though he waits for me to stumble so he can trap me again. I no longer attend Vigil. I don’t care if the villagers think me faithless.

  “Father says you’re embarrassed,” says Raimi.

  I’m perched near the Haven area, waiting for Taren to return from tanning the hide of our latest catch. Denet and Raimi enjoy the thick winter snow outside Ashgrove.

  “Watch me, Raimi,” Denet says, then skips a rock across the frozen creek, seeing how far it can slide before hitting the banks.

  Raimi remains nearby, eyes on Denet, but her attention stays on me. “Father told me about…my, um, healing, in my….” She coughs. “You have a gift for healing, like Father Edrine. Are you embarrassed because you couldn’t heal yourself?”

  I don’t respond. Cold seeps across my back, and I fight the urge to arch in pain, but I know the sensation is imaginary. I’m feeling the stone table in memory only.

  “And Father Edrine says you’re…well…that you're a curse on the village. That all the sickness, and the granary, and…” She shuffles in place, kicking the snow as Denet continues his game below. “But you're a good person. You wouldn’t hurt us on purpose. You like to help people…like me.”

  I see the confusion in her eyes. Trust in Edrine. Trust in her father. Even some misplaced trust in me. I don’t know how to answer her concerns, so I remain silent.

  Eventually, she slides off to join Denet. She seems older now. Like how I feel. There’s a mismatch between how I appear physically and the demands of my mind.

  Taren returns with a quality hide to show off. Denet and Raimi praise him, but I continue to ponder. If Edrine’s correct and I bring decay with me into Ashgrove, then I’d best do my part to remove it.

  ~~~

  That night, [Detect Decay] becomes my beacon of action. I follow traces of pulsing decay around the village. Deep roots of rot live beyond my reach beneath the snow and earth. I can only sense these on occasion, but there are threads of decay that wind their way up into the homes, buildings and fields of Ashgrove.

  I follow one that leads to Dargan’s home. Decay catches the edge of the far wall and spreads like a web.

  Pulses guide me to their origin: a thick stalk of decay that dives deep below.

  I reach with [Pulse Sever], targeting the root at the deepest part I can sense. The decay withers as I hold its vitality line captive. I wait until I’m certain it will remain dead before moving on.

  [Pulse Sever] drains mana quickly. I need a new method to attack the roots of decay, but nothing comes to me. When my mana empties, I cut what I can reach with my knife, but it does little to prevent the weed-like rot from returning the next night.

  Daytime challenges me. Denet comes to wake me often, only to find my mood sour from lack of sleep. I don’t explain myself. I fear they will make the same connection I do. Taren seems suspicious, even questioning, but I won’t drag him into this mess. I’m the monster here.

  One night, while re-cutting the same decayed root I cut the night before, I hear a sound. A door creaking on its hinges.

  I freeze in place under the shadows.

  A figure appears at the edge of the stone home across the street from me. I’m uncertain if Rorahn can see me, and he doesn’t speak a word. Rough thunks of his cane on wood echo as he enters the moonlight.

  Rorahn faces my hidden corner. I’m crouched near the earth, hand outstretched, reaching for the deep rot roots with [Pulse Sever]. I squeeze the decay longer than necessary, my focus on the village elder. He doesn’t budge, but his eyes gain a golden hue, like Taren's. He scans the surrounding homes. Maybe he cannot see me.

  The shape of a bow appears in the shadowed light, and the snick of a released arrow surprises me. A burst of light envelops my area and I collapse, stunned, like when he struck Taren back in the chapel before.

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  Rorahn scans the shadows again, but he must not sense me because he turns and clops inside his home and shuts the door.

  The cold snow eats at my shoulder, which lies stuck against the icy earth until I regain strength. I remain still after the stunned affliction fades. Movement inside the stone home catches my eye. The village elder will not be fooled. Neither will I.

  [Leech Grip] keeps me from frostbite as I wait out the elder. The moon continues its course across the speckled sky. Nox clicks. He doesn’t like the cold.

  My patience ends when Nox bites me, jolting me enough to disturb the snow I’m encased in. When nothing happens at the stone home, I slide away. I won’t clean the decay near Rorahn tonight.

  I cast a wider effort with [Detect Decay], searching for distance pulses to guide me.

  [Detect Decay] has reached Level 5.

  I follow the guiding thrum of decay until it leads me to the other side of the village, where decay does not sound like the threads I hunt on most nights.

  Instead, the pulsing decay moves.

  Eight pulses, small from my sense, but strong in decay, move sporadically. Their forms emanate from Ferlon’s barn.

  I slip by the shepherd’s home and circle the barn. The decay moves again, near the east corner. I find a door on the back side, facing away from the house, but it’s latched.

  There’s a low window on the opposite side. It has no lock or latch, so I push it open enough to gain entrance. I dangle for a moment at the ledge of the window before pulling myself inside and down onto the hay strew floor.

  Two sheep scatter at my presence, then approach with caution. Over two dozen animals live in the barn. Mostly sheep with thick winter coats. Two goats and three cows are further down the middle aisle.

  The decay moves again, near a pile of hay in the corner, an overflow from the loft above.

  I hop out of the sheep stall and approach the east corner. The decay scurries together, then apart. I can hear ratlike feet gripping the wood.

  I pull out my knife, then step up close.

  The scurrying stops.

  I take another step and the critters remain motionless.

  Once I reach the scattered hay, sense a change. I level my knife as the first one flings itself at me.

  Rot Critter - Level 2

  The ratlike creature is faster at level two. It dodges around my strike and sinks its black teeth through my clothes and into my leg.

  Rot Infection. Vitality diminished.

  I snatch the critter and [Leech Grip] it to ash, then heal my infection with moss. Two more critters appear, one on each side. They dart back and forth, testing me. There’s intelligence here. I catch one with my knife and kick at the other to make it shy back, but two more rot rats fling themselves from the middle of the hay and surprise me. They both land on my chest and rip into me.

  I dislodge them both with a slash of my knife, cutting myself as well. I must leech more moss to clear a new rot infection and close my wounds.

  Five of the rats are in view now, with a final one hidden somewhere in the hay, its pulsing decay too hard to track with all the activity.

  My eyes dart from one to the next. With constant movement, the skittering feet slide in and out of the hay, distracting me.

  Two test me at a time, from different sides. I slash at one, scaring it back, then quickly prepare my free hand to catch the other, but it retreats.

  Too smart. Six rot rats could bring me down if I don’t act fast.

  Two more again, both from one side. I slash again, then spin to intercept any surprise from behind, but the rats do nothing.

  My stamina lowers bit by bit as I teeter back and forth. I cannot stray from the middle. I could retreat and hope they don’t follow, but I choose to come here, choose to do my part to cleanse Ashgrove.

  I grow sure of their tactics. Two from one side, then two from each side, sometimes they send a third from behind, but after one overzealous rat comes too close and is cut in half, the others are more cautious.

  Four more rats, two on each side. Then I remember the hidden rat too late. I try to slash two rats from the sides when the largest of them all flies from amidst the hay and knocks into me.

  The rot rats are not large, but I’m already unbalanced, reaching for one rat. I stumble enough to give an opening. The other rats pounce on me and knock me off my feet.

  Two rats each grab at my arms, trying to pin my hands to the ground. They know my [Leech Grip].

  One rat leaps up onto my face, looking ready to gouge a chunk out of my face.

  [Chilling Presence] erupts from within me. The rot rats seem stunned for a moment, then scatter back into the far corner.

  I [Leech Grip] my moss. I’m bursting with vitality.

  The animals in the barn break into a chorus of chaos. The cows bellow, the sheep and goats run in circles and into stall walls. One goat leaps out of its stall. It rams into the front door of the barn and bashes it open.

  The rot rats take the escape route when it appears, fleeing past me before I can react.

  I chase after the goat, snuffing out my [Chilling Presence], but fear seems to linger with the beast.

  Once I’m far enough away from the barn after the goat, it circles back around and runs into the barn again. Too much noise. Ferlon’s family will come to investigate.

  The moon is bright tonight, highlighting my darkened form, but I stamina burn for the forest, after the rot critters, but they have too much lead. They scatter in many directions. I can either chase one or give up.

  I kick a snow drift with frustration. I killed half of the critters, but they will be back.

  I turn towards home, but before I take a step, an unnatural groan pierces the night, coming from deep in the forest.