The next morning, after too short a sleep, Benedict and Shiyo arrived at Celica’s shop. Before either could knock on the door, Celica opened it, bouncing and smiling as she did so. Two grapples and one cross—all that Benedict and Shiyo requested on their order forms—sat on the counter. Just behind the counter, they spotted a boy with fresh acne scars and bright red hair. He looked at them for a split second before staring back down at the counter.

  “This is Rodwin. He’ll be watching over the store while I’m gone,” Celica explained.

  “The boss isn’t going to like this,” Rodwin whimpered.

  She grabbed the tools and handed them over to their new owners. “Relax! When has one of my outings ever resulted in a problem?”

  “What about when you accidentally blew away Mrs. Able’s prized rooster?”

  “That animal walked in front of the funnel. Not my fault.”

  “You burned Mr. Albright’s wagon down.”

  “Technically, that was his fault for using the rod improperly.”

  “You shot that poor adventurer in the knee.”

  “That’s not fair! I slipped!”

  “Then—”

  Celica pushed a stunned Benedict and Shiyo out the door. “Just make sure no one burns the building down while I’m out!”

  “Wait! Celica!”

  The closing door silenced Rodwin’s protests. Celica slipped a lavender beret onto her head and walked ahead.

  “What was that about?” Benedict asked.

  “When testing out new tools, sometimes things go wrong,” Celica replied without looking back. “Come! We’re losing daylight as we speak.”

  They walked together to the south gate, then into the wilderness. Shiyo’s judging glare settled on Benedict for most of the trek. He didn’t look back at her.

  As was typical of maps, their swamp seemed nearer than it actually was. Night fell, and the landmarks they found showed they were a short walk away. Benedict was in no hurry to discover the kinds of monsters that ran at night in a far more dangerous land than the American South. At least there, he could carry a firearm.

  At his suggestion, they made camp on top of a hill. The moonlight reflected off a large, meandering river that ran past a dark shadow. That had to be the swamp. Even at such a great distance, its very presence sent chills up Benedict’s spine. He shook the feeling away and laid his mat next to Shiyo’s before helping Celica move her entire tent. Within the artificer’s toolkit, there was also a large, ready-made firepit which she set up while Benedict handled her tent.

  With everything finally in place, their stomachs growled in unison. Celica had fortunately brought some actual food: salted pork! She drew from her coffer an iron frying pan and a large grate that she placed over the unlit firepit.

  “How are you so well prepared?” Shiyo asked.

  Celica stared at the food, long fork poised to flip it over. “I’ve been dreaming of going on an adventure for some time now. It’s only natural I’d have prepared, right? I knew we’d need food, so I brought something we could cook. Isn’t that better than your usual rations?”

  “The food yes, but you brought yourself half a kitchen,” Benedict said.

  “One can’t have proper food without the proper tools to prepare it.”

  Celica chatted on happily, her eyes bright as she described the kinds of food her mother would make, much of which she herself knew how to make. Shiyo nodded along, apparently impressed despite herself. Benedict smirked and drew a firestarter from his coffer.

  Something caught his eye—a small light glimmered in the distance, bobbing down the plain. Lantern? Monster? Bandits? He drew his sword, eyes narrowing as he tried to make out the shape behind the light.

  Shiyo spotted them, too, and readied herself. “Celica, get behind us.”

  “What if they’re just adventurers like us?” Celica asked.

  “Trust us, bandits can disguise themselves well,” Benedict said.

  Together, they slipped away from the fire. The soft, wet grass muffled their movements, but they had nowhere to hide even without a lit fire; not with the moons both as high as they were. Benedict kept his sword ready as the light approached. Whoever it was, they weren’t trying to sneak.

  A large man, broad-shouldered and heavy-footed, with a thick leather jerkin stretched across his chest and a wild, bushy beard that caught the flickering lantern light, held the lamp aloft with one hand. Behind him, Benedict made out two more figures, shadows at first, resolving into human shapes as they drew nearer. Too far to read their faces, but close enough now that the tension in Benedict’s chest tightened.

  The man waved. “Greetings, fellow adventurers!”

  One of his companions spoke with the voice of kid barely out of puberty. “What are you doing?”

  “Obviously, they aren’t bandits. They’d have attacked us by now if they were. Friends, how goes your night?” He kept his voice loud enough so that everyone could hear.

  Benedict stepped forward. “We are not long settling down. You must have been searching for the swamp’s treasure, yes?”

  “Indeed, we were.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Are there any secrets of the swamp you can give us?”

  “Benedict!” Shiyo growled.

  “We’ll figure out if we can trust them soon enough,” Benedict whispered.

  “I’m not sure we should trust them, boss,” the kid said.

  Benedict finally got a good look at the younger man. No wonder he hadn’t noticed before; the kid wore a dark cloak over his head and a dark scarf around his face.

  “We really shouldn’t impose,” a young woman, the third member of their party, said.

  “Amalyn?” Celica asked.

  The young woman appeared in the light. Her short, revealing top and waist cape left Benedict wondering how she managed the monsters in the swamp. Even with enchantments, her clothing covered little.

  “Celica?” she said.

  Faster than Benedict thought she could, Celica dashed past him and pulled Amalyn into a hug. “It’s been so long!”

  “I’ll say. You finally found a party.”

  “She had to pay us,” Shiyo said.

  “She’s tried that a lot. You’re just the first ones to accept.”

  Benedict watched Celica shrink back. “It’s all right. We were happy to bring her along, regardless. Join us for a bit, will you? We were just about to have dinner.”

  All six stomachs roared at the mere suggestion of dinner.

  The big man reached out and shook Benedict’s hand with a big laugh. “Gladly. I’m Ordra. The young one here is Kirion, and you seem to already know Amalyn.” Ordra removed from his coffer some fresh meat they had gathered in the swamp along with a jar of seasonings. “And I have just the thing for hunger.”

  The big man cooked the food with a healthy serving of whatever was in his jar. Celica tossed her pork into the pan which Ordra also seasoned.

  “I haven’t had a meal that good in ages,” Benedict said when everything was gone.

  “The spices are the key,” Ordra said, holding up his jar. “It’s my own special mix. No one knows it except for myself and my mother.”

  Shiyo stealthily licked the seasonings off her fingers. “You could open an eatery in any city you like with that kind of skill.”

  “But then I wouldn’t be useful.”

  “You would be for those wanting to get some peace,” Benedict said.

  “True peace will come when the Scourge is ended. I can settle down after that.”

  “I see.”

  Benedict thought back to Morighana’s plea. It had been hundreds of years at least. Could the Scourge be stopped?

  “You were just there, yes? Can you tell us anything about the swamp?” Shiyo asked.

  “It’s miserable,” Kirion answered.

  “Smells like rot,” Amalyn added.

  Ordra chuckled. “As with most swamps, it is wet and miserable. Small islands are the only way to navigate through it, and those are unstable. What I can tell you most is to take care. Monsters lie hidden, waiting to strike. We were ambushed by a group of slimes, ourselves, but we’ve heard rumors of worse.”

  Celic shivered. “Ew. I hate slimes.”

  “We spoke to an adventurer before setting out. He lost everyone in his party to the beasts,” Amalyn said.

  “You know this, and you’ll try again?”

  “Nobody’s done it yet,” Ordra replied. “There’s no telling how many we can help with it, right?”

  “Depends on how valuable it is,” Benedict said.

  “Which is supposed to be unimaginably high.”

  “We’re going back to Lorvath to resupply before we try again,” Kirion said.

  “Rodwin is watching the store if you need anything there,” Celica said.

  “We’ll keep that in mind.”

  The conversation tapered off as the night went on. Amalyn and Celica retreated to the tent and spoke in hushed tones. Kirion attempted to listen in. A single threat from Ordra was enough to convince him to stop. Shiyo spoke to both of them about the matter at hand.

  Benedict didn’t listen. Instead, his gaze focused on the south, where their destination lay. A chill ran down his spine when he saw the shadows of the trees in the distance. In the chill, windless night, they moved.

  After a hearty breakfast, Ordra and his party bid Benedict, Shiyo, and Celica good luck. Then they departed, leaving the latter three on their own to trek across the plain into the darkness.

  The closer they came to the swamp, the more difficult their quest seemed. It covered the land beside its river for multiple miles. The canopy was so thick as to be impenetrable, which meant no climbing for a better view. Worse, the strange light played tricks on Benedict’s mind. How could they hope to find a boat in such conditions?

  They paused at the edge of the mire, where the plain dissolved into wetland, and scoured the border for access. At Shiyo’s suggestion, they split up. Benedict’s search brought him to a small rise. Seeing beyond the darkness and vegetation was an exercise in futility. No wonder monsters set up ambushes within.

  He found the girls not far away, both focused on the shore and the nearby water. Benedict searched the water’s surface for ripples, waves, a log moving too fast… anything out of the ordinary. Strange things lived in fantasy swamps. This one wouldn’t be an exception, he feared.

  “I found it!” Celica shouted.

  She had. It was a small land bridge barely wide enough for two people to pass each other. The shadows seemed to grow as Benedict looked deeper into the area.

  He drew his sword. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Gladly,” Shiyo said while drawing her own blade.

  “Where should I be?” Celica asked. Her voice trembled already.

  “Behind us. Keep alert, though. If something attacks from there, I need you to call it out and get close to us.”

  Soggy ground squished under his feet, squelching worse with each step. Tepid water sloshed against the shore. Wind whistled through the old trees. Insects chittered in the undergrowth. With each step into the swamp, Benedict’s eyes darted across the landscape, focusing everywhere a monster might be hiding. Celica let out a gasp behind him, and he spun, blade outstretched. She cradled her rod close to her body, head darting around like a frightened deer.

  “What is it?” Benedict asked.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I saw something.”

  Shiyo walked up to the frightened girl and put a hand on her shoulder. “No need for any of that. Just tell us.”

  “I will.”

  Something rustled in the brush behind her. Benedict watched it for a moment. Nothing. Water sloshed again nearby, louder than last time. A single wave broke on their small stretch of land.

  Nothing else happened, and they continued forward. The land ended, with another island popping up a few steps away—and water in between. Benedict took his sword and stabbed into the water. He felt the tip hit ground through mud, then stepped where he stabbed. His foot sank until the water reached his calves. A sequence of repeated stabs followed by steps brought him to the island.

  Shiyo stood on the other side, staring at the water, then at Benedict. When she followed his path, she sank up to her knees, wincing as the water flowed into her boots. Celica stayed on the opposite bank, horrified.

  “Your turn,” Shiyo said to Celica when she finally made it.

  “What good is this treasure, anyway?” Celica asked.

  “Sometimes, adventuring is like this,” Benedict said.

  Celica took a deep breath, then, while looking anywhere except down, stepped into the mire. Being slightly taller than Shiyo, she didn’t sink as far, but that didn’t help when wearing normal shoes. Benedict could imagine the feel of the mud around her feet as she walked. It had happened to him before, and it left no pleasant memories.

  It wouldn’t for Celica, either. Benedict helped her onto the bank, and mud covered her shoes so much that she had to remove them. Mud covered her feet as well. As they paused for her to wash the mud away, Benedict reminded himself to find a place to let her feet dry. He wasn’t sure if the people of Phynel knew about trench foot and didn’t want Celica to be the one to find out.

  “Is bringing her seeming any less wise to you, or are you an idiot?” Shiyo asked in a whisper.

  “We agreed,” Benedict whispered back.

  “And she’s so far out of her element as to be a burden.”

  “There’s no shame in trying something new. We all had to learn.”

  “Idiot.” Shiyo turned to the south. “It’s going to be a long search. If she doesn’t die before then—”

  “Enough.”

  Celica screamed. When Benedict looked back, she was in the air, suspended by a long vine. The tree nearby—which hadn’t been there a moment before!—swayed by itself. Two beady red eyes, set high in the trunk, glared at him. He darted forward with Shiyo, straight at the monster.