“You must have had a long journey,” the mayor of Hargeisa began. “What I can offer is meagre, and I do apologise, but please, help yourself without reservation.”

  The mayor of Hargeisa was a tall man named Torrance Scott. Like the others in the town, his build was gaunt, and his skin was sickly pale. His clothes suggested he was once a well built man, but they now hung loosely from his almost skeletal frame. Abner and his companions were seated across from him at a large mahogany dining table in a richly furnished reception room. The whole room was dimly lit by four candles that could only offer a feeble amount of light against the oppressive darkness.

  “Thank you, this is plenty,” Gen beamed while a maid poured murky water from a pitcher into badly stained glasses.

  “So, what brings the esteemed Society of Sorcery to our humble town?” Torrance ventured.

  “Well, I don’t have to tell you that the woods have changed,” Gen frowned. “We are here to investigate.”

  Torrance nodded coolly. “Our local lord came to investigate as well. That was two months ago, haven’t heard from him or his lackeys since.”

  “I think you’ll find that this is more within our society’s area of expertise,” Gen said. “What can you tell me about what’s happened?”

  Torrance stretched his back and let out a long, deep sigh, and Brynn bristled. “We are here to help, you know.”

  Gen held up a hand. “Brynn…”

  “Forgive me, but I don’t believe your Society is taking our situation seriously if they are sending one as young as you,” Torrance shrugged.

  Brynn’s face turned a deep shade of crimson, and Abner was worried he had to intervene when Gen placed a hand on the heavyset woman’s arm, which seemed to restrain her.

  “I assure you that I am well qualified to look into this situation,” Gen said. “So please, why don’t we start from the beginning. When did this affliction come to your town?”

  Torrance looked Gen in the eye for a moment before grunting. “One of our hunters, Jark, noticed a shadow in the woods a couple of months back. We sent men and were alarmed to find that it was growing. Inside the shadow, day turned into twilight and night into this foul thing that weighs heavily on us now. Animals disappeared, and the trees grew sickly. Then, the shadow grew until it engulfed all the woods from the Unver Plains to the River Erevine.

  “Did you manage to find out where the corruption started?” Gen asked.

  “It appeared to begin across the Erevine,” Torrance said. “But we haven’t been able to investigate.”

  “Why not?” Abner blurted when Brynn and Gen nodded in understanding.

  “Because the river marks the border between our lands and the elves,” Gen replied.

  “Could they be behind this?” Abner asked, suppressing a shudder.

  Gen frowned and shook her head. “I don’t see why they would…”

  “So you see, miss,” Torrance sighed. “I believe you are wasting your time here.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Gen said. “The Society is led by elves, and they sent us here. The elves of the forest should permit us to cross the river…”

  A wry smile twisted Torrance’s lips. “Finding them to ask for permission is what is tricky.”

  Gen shrugged. “It seems simple to me. We cross the river to investigate, and if we come across them, we ask for permission.”

  Torrance sighed. “You know the penalty for trespassing on their lands.”

  “For common people,” Gen replied and tapped her badge. “But we are with the Society. It was founded by elves!”

  “Well, I will pray for your success,” Torrance replied.

  “Thank you,” Gen said. “Now, what happened when the shadow arrived here?”

  Torrance’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, first, the crops died. Then the animals became sickly, as did the people, as you can see.”

  “Why haven’t you moved?” Gen asked.

  A bitter laugh escaped the maid’s lips, and Torrance smiled. “All who had the means to leave have done so. Those who remain are those without options.”

  Gen frowned. “I don’t understand. If this place is making you sick, Tampoole is but a two day walk away.”

  “And where would we live?” Torrance asked. “Do you think the people of Tampoole will shelter strangers who show up at the door one day?”

  “They should,” Gen replied. “How could they turn away people in need?”

  Torrance sighed again. “You must have had a very sheltered upbringing, miss.”

  “Or, she would rather see the good in people,” Brynn interjected.

  “That said, I regret to inform you that on top of your other problems, you have bandits prowling your borders,” Gen remarked and gasped when she saw the look on their host’s face. “This doesn’t surprise you.”

  Torrance nodded curtly. “Our crops have failed, lady, and the forest no longer provides. My people are desperate. I warned them not to resort to banditry, of course, but that leaves them desperate.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  In the corner of his eye, Abner noticed Brynn’s hand wander to her weapon, and he glanced at his hammer that was leaning against a wall nearby. Torrance noticed their apprehension and smiled.

  “You will not be harmed while you are guests here.”

  “Or so you say,” Abner replied evenly.

  “Harwick, you’re being rude,” Gen admonished him. “We are guests here.”

  “No, your man is right to be cautious,” Torrance remarked while he eyed Abner. “That armour, it's dwarven, isn’t it?”

  Abner’s eyebrows shot up. “It is.”

  Torrance grinned. “Don’t look so shocked. I was a blacksmith in my younger days. I know good steel when I see it. You look like a decent warrior. I hear you are the one who killed Niland.”

  The mayor raised a hand when Abner bristled. “As I said, I warned them not to do it. Niland knew the risks of what he was doing. All of them did.”

  “What will become of their families?” Gen asked after an awkward silence.

  Torrance narrowed his eyes. “Do you wish to pay compensation for their deaths?”

  Gen reared back in stunned silence before meekly shaking her head.

  “Then it is none of your concern,” he said coldly before returning his attention to Abner. “You’re a solid warrior with war gear many would kill for.”

  Abner stared back at the gaunt man and waited for him to come to his point.

  “We have tried hiring freeswords to investigate this problem, but any of note had answered the prince’s call for men to fight for the North,” Torrance continued. “I know it’s none of my business, but why aren’t you among them?”

  Abner felt his companions’ eyes on him. It seemed that the question had just occurred to them as well. He would rather have brushed the question off than lie, but he knew that Gen would not let it rest now that her curiosity was piqued.

  “I think there is plenty of good to be done down here,” he said at length. “Evil is festering everywhere else, now that most of the men of fighting age have been brought North.”

  Torrance locked eyes with Abner for a moment before breaking into soft laughter. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. The odds are slim, but if you can resolve our little problem, the people of Hargeisa will be eternally grateful.”

  “That is our plan,” Gen said.

  “Do you need lodgings for the night?” Torrance ventured.

  “Why yes, that would be delightful, thank you,” Gen said before Abner could refuse.

  He heard Brynn suppress a sigh next to him, and they exchanged looks.

  “You’re not sharing a room with us,” she said flatly.

  Abner wanted to object with an argument over how it was for their own safety while pointing out that they had slept mere feet from one another over the past few days without issue, but knew it was futile when he saw the look of revulsion on Gen’s face at the prospect of them sharing a room, and his shoulders slumped.

  “So, two rooms, they will be on either side of mine,” the mayor announced. “If you are ready, Marin will lead you there.”

  “Oh, we haven’t eaten,” Gen began.

  She was about to lift a slice of bread to her mouth when both Brynn and Abner slapped it out of her hand in unison.

  “We’re ready to turn in,” Brynn said. “We will want to depart bright and early tomorrow.”

  “I’m afraid I cannot lend any provisions for your journey,” Torrance began.

  “If you could arrange for a guide, that would be most helpful,” Abner blurted when his companions got to their feet.

  Torrance nodded. “I will see what can be arranged.”

  “No, my lord and ladies, if you will please follow me,” the maid said. Her voice was small and distant, and Abner had initially wondered if she had spoken at all or if he had imagined it.

  While they followed the maid out of the room, Torrance gathered their untouched bread and devoured it ravenously.

  A knock at the door roused Abner from sleep, and he leapt out of bed clad in his armour and ready for battle. There were no signs of danger, as far as he could tell, but it was pitch dark in the room, and only the faintest of light streamed in through the open window.

  “Harwick, it’s morning,” came Brynn’s voice from the other side of the door. “Or at least what passes for it here.”

  “Coming,” Abner said, trying to recall the events that led to his falling asleep.

  He remembered lying down on the bed, just to try it out, and the next thing he remembered was the knock on the door. Could it have been a spell, or had he just been that tired? Whatever the case, he had come out unscathed, but he promised himself that he would be more careful in future.

  “The mayor says the guide is arriving soon,” Brynn said when Abner opened the door. The stocky woman was holding a candle for light. “Gen is already downstairs.”

  Abner’s stomach growled, and he offered Brynn a sheepish look. “I don’t suppose there’s any hope for breakfast?”

  Brynn spun on her heel and started down the broad, hardwood stairs without replying.

  “Well, good morning to you, too,” Abner muttered as he followed her down.

  They found Gen already standing by the door, chatting with the mayor. The house was dark, and Abner looked around for the maid, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  “Ah, good, you’re up,” Torrance said when he saw them. “Your guide should be along shortly.”

  “Couldn’t this have waited?” Abner asked, stifling a yawn. “It’s still dark out.”

  “It’s almost midday,” Torrance replied. “I fear this is as bright as it gets in these woods.”

  Abner blinked. Almost midday? Why did he feel so tired?

  “Whatever is afflicting these woods also causes a malaise,” Torrance said, as though reading Abner’s thoughts. “You start feeling tired, stay in bed for longer. Soon, even walking feels like an ordeal.”

  “Then it sounds like we had better get to the bottom of this quickly,” Gen remarked.

  “Well, it’s not fatal, whatever this condition is,” Torrance said, managing a weak smile. He looked out of the door and brightened. “Ah, here comes your guide now.”

  A boy of around fourteen years of age was walking towards the manor. Like the other people they’d seen, his figure was gaunt, and his skin had a sickly white pallor to it. He was dressed in rags and had a hunting bow slung across his back and a quiver full of arrows at his hip. His hair was dark and unkempt, and his eyes were red rimmed and sunken. As he drew nearer, Abner thought he looked familiar. Brynn recognised him a moment before Abner did.

  “He won’t do,” she said.

  “He was in the ambush last night!” Abner breathed and stepped forward so that his bulk was between the ladies and the boy in case he suddenly started firing arrows.

  As he strode past, he saw Brynn already had her hand on the hilt of her short sword and was ready to spring into action.

  “Yes, he was,” Torrance said. “Their leader, Niland, was his father.”

  “And you think we can trust him to lead us to the centre of the corruption?” Abner asked incredulously.

  “He and his father were the ones to first discover it,” Torrance replied. “His father was the expert on that part of the woods, and young Affren here’s knowledge is second only to his.”

  Affren regarded the trio with cold eyes before spitting. A glob of saliva landed inches from Brynn’s boot.

  “Charming,” Brynn said without taking her hand off her weapon.

  “If you can get things here back to the way they were, I’m willing to take you anywhere,” the boy sniffed.

  “Affren…” Gen began.

  The boy’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to call me by my name. Call me Stride.”

  “It’s their family name,” Torrance explained.

  “You’re willing to overlook the death of your father?” Abner asked incredulously.

  “Until you fix whatever is broken with this place,” Stride replied.

  “And what happens if we do fix things here?” Abner demanded.

  A smile twisted Stride’s lips that looked ghoulish on his sunken face. “Well then, I suppose all bets are off.”

  “I’m just going to ask the obvious here,” Abner sighed after a tense silence. “How do we know he isn’t going to stab us in the back the first opportunity he gets?”

  “You don’t,” Torrance admitted. “But the boy is the only one who can get you to where you want to go.”

  “And you are the only ones who can get us back to normal,” Stride said. “I’m willing to agree to a temporary truce.”

  “You must be mad,” Abner cried.

  “We couldn’t ask for a finer guide,” Gen declared expansively before turning to the boy. “Please, guide us to the heart of the corruption, and I swear upon my badge of office that I will do all in my power to dispel it.”