Wendell scoffed, hurt, him? He sobered, remembering the woman’s pain. “I’m fine,” he told her, moving to collect the canteen without complaint. He wondered, if the tables were turned, would she have laughed at him and told him to get it himself? She was snappy at times, he knew that much.

With canteen in hand, the pirate undid the lid and poured some of the liquid over Kes’tral’s scorched limbs, just as she had done with his cut. “Heal it,” he said, “I’ll protect you if anymore of those things find us.” He sounded genuine, but if there was any doubt, the look he gave her confirmed the same.

While they had their peace, Wendell started clearing the camp. Their ruined meal was tossed out and the giant spider carcasses that littered the floor were kicked side, as if to form a dark ring about their camp, warding others off. One of the corpses reanimated after being kicked aside, but was swiftly dealt with. He hadn’t realised how much fun it was to crush the disgusting bugs under foot, now that his inner panic had passed.

Using his sword to gather up all of the string-like cobwebs, the pirate spun it into a ball on the end of his weapon. He wiped it off on some nearby bushes, stabbing at the rustling leaves, paranoid as the wind returned. What in the world was wrong with this place and how long had all this madness been going on for?

“You still want to stay and fight?” He asked, turning to look at Kes’tral. “I’m not sure we are prepared for this. What if there had been more?” What if one or both of them had been bitten, he thought to himself, would they become a part of the sickness?

“I’ll stay,” he said, “if that is what you decide.” Perhaps he gave her too much power, but it wasn’t like he had anything waiting for him beyond the shores of this strange land.

The water stung as it hit the charred flesh and she hissed, flinching away and grateful of the hold he had taken of her arm. Kes looked away, at least the water eased the sense of burning. Heal it, he said and she sighed. Worried, that even if he were willing to act as a guard, that she was wasting her ability on herself. What if they needed the power for something else? Something more important?

But it hurt, and after a few long, agonising minutes the woman was forced to accept defeat. She remained where she had sat and closed her eyes. Her good hand wrapped around her wrist she sank into her concentration. Wendy has said he would defend and she trusted him, perhaps more than she trusted herself.

The beat of adrenaline faded and she had to work hard to put out the fire that still lived within her hand. Seeking out the flesh that still burnt and pinching it, as though snuffing out a candle with her mind. Once that was done, the pain faded enough to manage. It was then she started the long, laborious work of repairing the damaged tissue. Working with the deeper parts first. It wasn’t like Wendy’s cut, which had just needed closing. This needed skin to be replaced, the damaged parts to be stripped away.

By the time she was done, the woman was exhausted. She peered out at the night and the crackling fire. Without a word, she edged closed to Wendy where he sat. She lent against him, and tucked her head against his shoulder before closing her eyes.

“Thank you.”

Their meal wasted and evening disturbed, had put the man on edge. He paced about the camp while Kes’tral concentrated, tension high. What if those things did return, he thought, could he really take on more than two or three alone? Had he been alone tonight, he knew he would not be alive, or at least not well, depending on what those bites did to the average person.

Wendell sat down to build up the fire once more. He put a severed, black insect leg on top of the logs and watched as it sizzled and burned, curling up under the intense heat of the flames. Black smoke with a hue of purple peeled away from the limb in long, winding ribbons. That wasn’t right, he thought, nothing he had ever come across in his life had burned like that.

Soon Kes’tral joined him and Wendell was surprised to hear her thank him. Pain, he thought, the great leveller. Suffering a wound and accepting the help of another person was often very humbling. Kes’tral slumped against him, choosing to rest her head on his shoulder. Wendell didn’t mind, not really. He was tired too.

“Get some sleep,” he encouraged. “One of us might as well rest in case those things come back. I don’t want to wake up strung up from a tree with one of those things snacking on me.”

Wendell chuckled, seeing the humour in such. They had been lucky really. If the spiders had the sense to wait, they could have both been knocked off in their sleep and been none the wiser. Tomorrow he would go out, check the snare traps he had set up and look for more food. The two of them could formulate a plan and head in the direction of wherever that caravan had come from. There were bound to be others who could do with a little help.

He didn’t protest the unusual closeness and Kes’tral closed her eyes. She didn’t need telling twice to get some rest. Her mind was already foggy with slumber after the healing. He laughed with dark humour, a rumble rising through his chest and she chuckled in reply.

“Wake me, when you need to swap,” Kes asked the man. She smothered a yawn with her hand and edged away just enough that she could lay down beside him, close enough that she could reach out and touch him for reassurance if needed. The creatures had frightened her. They had left her with a deep sense of unease and that strange sensation of sickness. The healing has exhausted her, along with the time spent fighting them off. Kes dropped into a deep sleep.

Wendy woke her a few hours later and she stretched out. Sitting up Kes took stock of their surroundings. He had done a good job of clearing their battlefield, but the dark trees still made her feel uneasy. At least the gentle breeze was back, rustling the leaves as it should. She could hear an owl in the distance and a faint scrabbling that might be a mouse or some kind of badger.

“Get some rest?” She rested her hand on his arm. “I’ll watch over.” The woman promised. How far was it from dawn?

“I haven’t seen or heard anything since the attack,” Wendell said. “It will be dawn soon. The fire should last until then, so you’ll have enough light.”

Kes’tral had offered to sit and guard him while he took his turn to rest. He wondered if every night would be like this from now on. The pirate lay down, head heavy and shut his eyes. Once comfortable, he looked up at the woman for a spell, offered a sleepy smile and closed his eyes again.

Fin.

It was some days later by the time they had gathered what they needed for the road. The pair set off on foot, able to appreciate the care that needed to be taken with their mission. Stealth, they realised, was one way to avoid the creatures that crawled up from the cracks in the earth. Fire had proven its value as had the sword. Of course, Wendell had one weakness he would need to rely on Kes’tral for, magic. Who knew how these creatures would react to spells, he had wondered aloud as they walked.

“What else can you do?” The pirate asked. “I’ve heard of mages who can conjure all kinds of things, fire, rain and even storms! I bet those spiders would have hated being struck by lightning.”

Wendell had traded his sword for an axe, choosing to wear the new weapon on his belt. It had the added advantage of doubling as a ranged weapon, something that might come in handy. His throwing knives too were positioned evenly on his belt, balanced between the two sides while the handaxe hung off a loop on the front.

He wore a black tunic, recently washed, with dark trousers and black leather boots. Wendell’s hair had grown out since he had met Kes’tral, though he had endeavoured to keep it short in the sides, the top was now long enough to tuck behind his ears.

Not sure what they would find down the path they had chosen, the pirate traveled with caution, more alert than he usually was. The cart and wagon tracks were still fresh upon the earth where families had made their escape. Wendell couldn’t help but wonder if they were doing the right thing.

“Another adventure.” He smiled, something fond. Let’s hope it isn’t the last, he thought.

The rest of the night had been thankfully quiet. As had the next pair of days as they had gathered themselves after the horror of the arachnid creatures. It had been their dying screams that haunted the woman. She had tried to explain it to Wendy, but the best she could come up with, was that they were wrong. They felt wrong to her senses.

She too was dressed in dark clothing, a tunic, trousers and boots. Her hair, even longer now had been braided back and coiled at the base of her neck, out of the way, the staff, she kept gripped in her hand at all times. They walked quietly together, carefully where they trod even on the well-worn paths of the caravan trails.

“I can take a different shape,” she frowned as they went, keeping her voice quiet. “But not all…I’ve only learnt a couple. One, you know.” The others she wasn’t sure that she wanted to reveal just yet. “As for other magics,” Kes seemed to pause. She scanned the landscape as they made their way through.

“I am…connected to the life within this world. There are things that I can communicate, the Earth, things that grow within it, creatures…but fire…” she shook her head. “Again, it is something I could learn in future, but I do not know it…”

Kes looked at the man then. “You’re handy with you’re weapons, and that torch. I know why I must follow this sickness to the root…but why do you?”

The man lifted his shoulder in a lazy shrug. What were his reasons for going? A small part of him wanted to say it was to see her fail, only because, a few days ago, she probably would have said the same just to get under his skin.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do,” he said, like he had nowhere else to be. “Besides, what’s the point of trying to outrun something like this? Left unchecked, this could become an issue for more than just the people of the Bohar Plains.” He had a strong sense of wrong and right, however, Wendell only seemed to acknowledge this when it suited him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Wendell said, “he’s a pirate, what does he care for the world’s problems? I still have to live in this world. Those blood suckers better leave something for me to conquer.” He teased.

Wendell fell quiet then, lost in thought. He had joined the Oathkeeper crew to escape his life. Really all he was, was an oath breaker and nothing more. There was nothing in his life he could be proud of, no significant achievements to date beyond basic survival. He had no family, no children, no girl pining for him back home. Wendell had only ever taken care of himself. Of course, to his friends he had always been loyal, especially those who were apart of the Oathkeeper crew, but this felt different. Staying behind to actually help for a change filled him with a quiet sense of pride no one could take away from him.

Beyond the woodlands there was only a sea of endless grass. Out in the open, they would need to be careful about taking cover. Less they wanted to be spotted. The pair were yet to see any of the scars in the earth the dead supposedly rose out of, but that wasn’t to say they didn’t exist.

“At least we know if we run into anymore spiders, we won’t have to watch out for them falling from above us,” Wendell said, trying to make light of what they had been through.

Kes was surprised by his answers as they came. Stealth was more difficult as they talked, but they were both careful. Kes stalked forward, weaving through the trees until the vista fell away before them. The grass in places would reach up to her knees, it swayed, moving like the ocean in waves caught in the wind. If it wasn’t for the hordes pouring forth from the Void then it would have been a restful scene. Somewhere she could have found peace.

“Trust me,” she replied with a small shake of her head, “you have no idea what I am thinking.” As ever, she tried to soften the sting of her words with a smile. Wendy seemed to feel she was an antagonist or keen to injure him with her words. The opposite was more true, the woman just didn’t take much very seriously.

“I think you’re too hard on yourself.” The woman turned around to face him as they made their way into the grasses. She stood before him and looked up, scanning his expression. “I think, you believe I think badly of you. I don’t. We are here, together.” Kes shrugged. “If it had to be anyone,” she smiled “I am glad that it’s you.”

She turned away then, planting her hands on her hips. “Do we carry on walking through this grass, or do we make camp for the night?”

There she goes again, he thought, preparing himself for another one of her sharp retorts, only to be surprised. It wasn’t like Kes’tral to offer a kind word.

He was stopped as she turned around to look him in the eye and he couldn’t help but hold her gaze. There was something interesting about the dusty blue of her eyes. How had the gods summoned such a colour in her design? He imagined them pouring milk into the ocean and starting there.

“I think one of those spiders must have bitten you,” he said, teasing of course.

Kes’tral pondered whether or not they should set up camp and Wendell shook his head. “We have hours of daylight yet. If we stop now, we’re unlikely to catch up to the forces standing against the Eldritch hoard before they are too few to make an impact.”

He wanted to push on, wanted to find some form of evidence that suggested people lived here. They had been too long in the wilds of Canelux and it was starting to get to him. He had spent years on a ship, not touching land for seasons at a time. Yet, now that he walked the plains, there was an expectation which his mind had built up. Where in the world was civilisation?

They pressed on until dusk, walking for hours at an easy pace, only to find more of the same. It was impossible to start a fire in the grasslands without something to prepare the ground first, leaving the two of them to face the dark without one.

As the sun began to set, Wendell caught sight of something or someone moving on the horizon. He ducked down, dragging Kes’tral with him. His hand went to her mouth. “Shh,” he said. “What’s that?”

The silhouette was difficult to make out, seeming to zigzag through the tall grass, spear in hand, the steel point leading the way of the figure that carried it. As the being drew closer, Wendell could make out a uniform, perhaps something worn by a soldier or knight. He squinted. Why did the man run as if he were lost or looking for something, stopping to turn at the slightest sound.

A bird rushed from the grass a few metres from them and Wendell could have sworn he saw the white and red figure respond almost like a liquid, drawn to the movement of the escaping animal. The pirate dropped his hand to the axe on his belt, freeing Kes’tral.

“What in the world…” Wendell mouthed.

Wendy seemed to stare at her for a moment, a long moment and she held the mans curious gaze. He responded by teasing, and that only made her smile. Good. He had taken himself far too seriously, and now faced with impeding doom he was starting to see humour in the world around him. It had only taken a season, imagine who they would both be after a year? She stuck her tongue out at the man before turning to walk onward once more. Her arms swinging by her sides, staff still gripped securely. Everything was better with a smile.

He made a strong case to push on, but she couldn’t help but wonder if they would have bene faster if they’d taken horses from the herd. “It wasn’t trickery,” she looked back at the man as she walked. Her free fingers brushing over the tops of grass. “I simply told the horse our plan, and she agreed.” Kes looked at Wendy once more, wondering if he believed her. He seemed to have a distrust of anything magical and she couldn’t blame him. The woman had encountered too many mages and wizard who abused the arcane arts for their own purpose. Was it perhaps the reason that he had left his home so far behind? Why he would not return?

Pulled down with the dusk, Kes found herself curling her hand in his. She peered in the direction, squinting in the half-light. What, or who was it? It looked like a man, surely it was? She shared a look with Wendy and edged forward, her staff held ready in her fingers. He moved strangely, if it was indeed a man. The actions reminding her of something more animalistic. Was that how people saw her, when she lost her animal forms?