Chapter 12

  The march was slow going. There were now almost 200 recruits on their way to Fort Redleaf from Evertree. As they marched to the South, drawing ever closer to the Fort, Graham could feel the air slowly begin to change. The warm Spring air slowly became tainted with the ever-present chill of the Mountains that lay between the Valley and the Wildlands. They were closer than ever now. Graham couldn’t even make out the peaks of the Mountains, the tips disappearing deep into the clouds above. Ahead of them, the Mountains formed a narrow valley: the Wild Pass. The only pass that actually thawed in the non-Winter months and would allow passage normally, had the Fort not been built to prevent movement from the South.

  Breaking for the night, the recruits all split up and formed small campsites off the road and into the woods. Several fires popped up amongst the crowds, with others looking on enviously as their camp-mates tried and failed to make their own fires, resigning to ask others for assistance. Graham, Fleur, Cruz, and Hould grouped up and wordlessly set up their tents and gathered firewood as they had been doing for the past several nights in their travels from the Burrow. Only this time, a Raccoon decided to take it upon himself to assist in the process. Graham didn’t mind the help and only Fleur rolled her eyes a bit before agreeing. There was no word of protest from the other two Mousefolk, who seemed wholly unconcerned with the addition of a companion. Their camp was just far enough from the others to be clear out of earshot. Hould insisted, as he ‘could barely tolerate the other recruits’ ignorant ramblings’.

  Graham noticed that Hould had been in an especially troubled mood lately. He was always kind of a serious Mouse, even when they were growing up. It was when Hould’s father didn’t return from a mission he was on for the Alliance that he started to grow spiteful, mean, and angry.

  Getting the fire started as the others set up camp and gathered firewood, Graham quickly got some twigs to light, blowing on the small flame as he added kindling. Smiling as he got the wood to catch, Graham stared at the flame for a moment, remembering the hearth flame back in Villia’s Respite, listening to the stories of the Sleeping Dragons and the Patron Gods from Ms. Roxy. He briefly wondered what kind of truth those stories were based off of. Had the Patron Gods really existed as the stories told? No one from those days was around anymore. There were a lot of things magic could do, granting immortality was not one of them. A creature older than 100 years old had never been recorded in the history of the Valley.

  Graham was broken out of his daydream at the crash of wood hitting the ground next to him. He looked up to see Hould looking down at him with at first the same contempt he usually held, before the look softened a bit. Hould got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment before turning and walking away. Weird. He hasn’t looked at me like that since we were young.

  Graham tried to warm his hands on the growing fire in front of him. The chill was getting worse. A full-blown icy breeze now drifted down from the mountain, the cold clinging to their fur and chilling them to their bones. Steam exited from Graham’s mouth as he exhaled, a testament to their future mountainous home. Cruz noticed Graham’s weird look as he dropped off his own load of firewood.

  “What’s got into you?” Cruz cocked his eyebrow.

  “Hmm? Oh, it was just something weird. Is it just me or is Hould acting strangely?”

  “Isn’t he always weird?” Fleur said as she passed by, overhearing their conversation.

  “Well you kind of did save his life, you know?” Cruz said with a hint of a smirk.

  “Technically, it was that old Badger. All I did was piss the Snake off.” Graham returned his gaze to the fire.

  “It’s because I truly expected you to turn tail and run. I expected you to let me die.” Hould’s voice came from behind them, once again carrying several sticks and logs that would be more than enough to get them through the night.

  Seeing that there was no avoiding talking about it now, Hould dropped the logs with a sigh before moving over to where Graham was squatting.

  “Breaking out of that stone prison to discover that not only had you stayed and fought, but triumphed where I failed didn’t make any sense to me.”

  “What’s this guy on about?” Benny whispered to Fleur, who jumped lightly, not having noticed his approach. Fleur took a step away from him before responding.

  “They have a bit of a history. Apparently their fathers served together in the Woodland Alliance. Now shush, this is a character moment.”

  “I told you so many times, Hould.” Graham sighed while shaking his head. “The official report of that mission was that your father volunteered for that role. My father didn’t order him to go with him. You have to know that they were friends.”

  “I don’t care about their friendship. I’m supposed to believe that my father willingly sacrificed himself for the mission? He willingly left my mom and me behind? For what? All we got was his sword. And what did your dad get? Praise. A ceremony. A job well done. Thanks for his sacrifice. I bet your father did it just for fame.”

  “You’re wrong, Hould. He believed in the mission. He also wanted to get his squad mates out. So that’s why he did what he did. He didn’t ask anyone to go with him, but your father wanted to. I really am sorry about the way that it was handled afterwards. But that’s not my fault. Surely you can see that?”

  “It doesn’t matter if it’s your fault or not. You’re cut from the same cloth, and I don’t want to get involved with someone whose family reaps the glory on the corpses of their fallen comrades. But then you saved my life. And I got a glimpse. I got a small sliver of what my father must have felt when following yours into the mouth of a Predator.”

  Graham’s eyes widened a bit at Hould’s words. Here he was, trashing him and his family again, but what the heck was that at the end? Gratitude? Acknowledgement? A feeling blossomed inside Graham at the words. Is this what it’s like to feel trusted? Like when you know someone has confidence in you and accepts you? Surely, that can’t be it. This is Hould we’re talking about. The same Mouse who became Graham’s number one hater in the same week that he and Graham played together in the Sunfields.

  “Why did your family never bring my dad up? Why did you hardly visit my mother after the mission? Where were you? First you lead our family to ruin, then you leave us out to dry.”

  Graham’s feeling dampened at the question. Why? He had just lost his father. He was grieving. No, it was more than that. He resented him for the same reason Hould did. Why would he choose death and glory over his own family? That was the question he asked himself for years before finally venting to his mother about it. But she told him that the fame was never the reason. He did what he had to for his fellow Soldiers. For the Alliance and for his friends. She had never harbored any resentment of him for that. Graham had felt extremely guilty after hearing his mother talk about it.

  Graham gave Hould a complicated look. “I’m sorry, Hould. It’s not much of an excuse, but I lost my father too. I didn’t know what to do.”

  Hould took a deep breath at the apology, breathing out what was basically fire in an effort to cool himself down.

  “Before, I might’ve told you to shove your apology somewhere, but it does me no good if you’re just going to be sticking around anyways.” Hould turned around and stormed off back into the forest, followed closely by Cruz, who gave Graham a slightly impressed look.

  “Well, that was weird. Right?” Benny gently nudged Fleur with his elbow.

  “Shut up, Benny.” Fleur said, rolling her eyes and turning away to finish the tent.

  Benny made a mock gesture of his heart aching before his smile returned to his face as he sat next to Graham, who stared at the growing flames, adding kindling.

  “Fine job, there, kid. That big Mouse was getting a bit too broody. I was worried it would start to infect me. But seriously, he looks like he stopped carrying around a massive log. You handled that well, if I do say so myself. Try not to let the fire-breathing Mouse get to you.”

  Graham chuckled softly at Benny’s antics but the smile never quite reached his eyes.

  The group gathered up some fallen logs and flat stones to use to take their places around the fire for the evening. Hould didn’t make eye contact with Graham for the entirety of the evening, with the group just casually chatting and Benny regaling tales of his immense bravery to Fleur, who just looked annoyed.

  Having all finished their respective dinners, which mostly consisted of dried berries, nuts, and some fresh vegetables that Benny managed to convince a neighboring camp to share, the 5 turned into their tents, intending to drift into another cold, hard sleep on the road to the Fort.

  Snap

  Graham’s eyes shot open. Looking around, his eyes focusing, he could see that the fire had died down considerably, with only embers remaining. The stars still dotted the sky in a brilliant pattern, with the moon providing the only light. There, across the campsite, a figure stood. It was facing Cruz’s tent, who hadn’t seemed to have woken up from the sudden sound. Graham’s pulse quickened, as the creature turned its head in a crooked manner, flexing its forepaws. Its head rotated slightly in his direction and he saw it. The red, glowing eyes. The dead expression. It was a Feral. A Raccoon by the looks of its paws. Graham slowed his breathing and reached for his sword that lay at his side. Currently, the Feral appeared to just be fixated on Cruz’s tent and hadn’t taken any more steps. How had it gotten in here undetected? The convoy of recruits had set up a watch rotation just in case. Also, what in the Gods was a Feral doing North of the Pass? So many questions passed through Graham’s mind as he began to draw his sword. At the slight wringing, the Feral’s head turned suddenly, staring right at where Graham was, but not seeming to acknowledge his presence. He paused, seeing the movement. Could it see him? Sense his moving?

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  The Feral soon turned its head back towards Cruz, and Graham noticed that its eyes started glowing ever so slightly brighter once it returned its attention. Graham was about to start drawing his blade again when he felt a paw land on his wrist, squeezing lightly. Graham turned and saw Benny, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. Using his paw to indicate silence, Benny slunk around the campsite, not making the slightest sound before bringing his dagger across the neck of the Feral, as quiet as the dusk slipping into the night. With a gurgling sound, the Feral fell into the dirt, awakening the rest of the campsite at the sudden thud.

  “What the fu–” Hould’s sleepy face appeared out of his tent before seeing the corpse of the Feral, its eyes still slightly glowing red, and Benny’s dagger, slick with blood still. He had a wild look on his face, one that held immense pain and confusion. Hould noticed Graham standing up and walking over to where Benny was, looking to him with the kind of concern that only served to piss off Hould even more. Fleur had also awoken, looking around in confusion with a hint of fear. She had yet to say anything as she, like the others, could sense the tension and fear in the air. Hould looked over to Cruz’s tent and noticed that he hadn’t woken up. Unusual. That crash of the body was not quiet, and even Cruz didn’t sleep that heavily. Pushing out of his tent and moving over to Cruz’s, he shoved the flap aside to see the still prone form of Cruz.

  Trying not to speak anymore until he found out what was going on, Hould gave Cruz’s boot a kick. Nothing. Again. Nothing. What the? Hould bent down and gave Cruz a shake. Still nothing. He could see in the pale moonlight the rise and fall of his chest. Alive, at least. That’s good. Turning back to the other members of their impromptu camp, he gestured to them to gather around. Hould had a bad feeling about this, and the night was just starting. They all shared a solemn look before all hell broke loose at the other camps around them.

  __

  This was not supposed to happen. This was supposed to be an easy march back to the Fort. Captain Gritzkin cursed every God that would listen as he cut down yet another Feral. Why were there so many? His longsword sang as it tore through the side of a Feral Rabbit, causing it to release a screech of pain as its red glowing eyes slowly dimmed to black.

  The Captain carved a path through several Ferals that emerged from the trees. And yet, more still appeared. This was absolutely unprecedented. The odd Feral here and there was nothing unusual, the Alliance estimating that there was a tunnel into the Mountains somewhere that the Ferals were wandering through. But to see droves of them like this? There was nothing of note between Evertree and Fort Redleaf, so the only reason that a force of this number would be wandering through the forest at this time of night would be if they somehow knew the convoy would be passing through here today. Not only that, but they waited for nightfall.

  The Captain cursed again as he plunged his longsword into the chest of a Feral Mouse, who slumped over against his blade. Wait a moment. This poor Mouse. He knew him. He was one of the recruits! But…why? How?

  __

  “Damn. Cruz isn’t waking up. Come on, we have to get out of here.” Hould threw Cruz’s unconscious body over his shoulder and gathered his axe in his free paw. Graham nodded, grabbing his shield and slinging his pack onto his back. He grabbed Hould’s pack and threw it over his shoulder with a grunt. What did this Mouse pack? Jeez. Drawing his sword, Graham hurried over to watch Fleur’s back as she gathered some supplies. This was a total mess. There were screams, screeches, yells, clangs of steel, and bright flashes of light as spells exploded out among the trees. Some of the campfires had been hit amongst the ruckus, causing the embers to catch tents and shrubs on fire. A scene of veritable chaos.

  “Where’s Benny?” Graham called out to Fleur behind him, who was hastily packing her things.

  “Who cares! You saw what he did to that Feral! He’s probably some kind of spy or something. He’s probably the reason they’re here!”

  Graham gritted his teeth but stopped looking for Benny around in the chaos, instead turning towards Hould who was waiting on the edge of the camp for them. The trio ran through the trees, crashing through branches, bushes, and jumping over roots in their haste. A whoosh came from the right side, and Graham saw a Raccoon on all fours leaping through the forest, as if the wind was aiding its advance. A crack from the opposite side revealed a Feral Squirrel running in the same fashion, its eyes never leaving the three.

  “We’ve got company!” Graham called out to Fleur and Hould, who were running ahead of him. Hould skidded to a stop, lowering Cruz to the ground slowly as the Ferals came to a stop, surrounding them. Graham could now see that another Feral Raccoon had been following directly behind them. Three Ferals surrounded them. Graham was facing a Raccoon but could see the Squirrel out of the corner of his eyes. Fleur stood in between Hould and Graham, beside the unconscious form of Cruz.

  The Ferals stood there, snarling, but unmoving. Their red eyes pierced through them in the darkness of the forest. The moon barely offered enough light to run by, let alone to fight. The midnight chill caught up with them, and Graham could see the cloud of steam that escaped his mouth with every breath, joined by the steam the Ferals breathed almost in response.

  Hearing shifting at his feet, Hould called out to Cruz.

  “Good of you to finally wake up! We could use some backup.” Hould’s eyes darted from the Squirrel to the Raccoon that were in front of him. Just then, he felt a paw grab around his ankle followed by the sharp sensation of a bite. Looking down, he could see Cruz latched onto his calf, his eyes glowing bright red, no longer the shade of hazel brown they were before.

  “Gods! What in the Valley!” Hould bashed the shaft of his axe into Cruz’s face, still latched onto Hould’s leg. Again. And again. Cruz never let go, his eyes never wavering in their ferocity. Seeing the struggle, the surrounding Ferals launched themselves at the trio. With a yelp from Fleur, Hould refocused his gaze on the approaching attackers. With a swift front kick, he sent the Raccoon reeling back as he caught the jaws of the Squirrel on the shaft of his axe, the Feral snarling through its teeth.

  Graham stood protectively in front of Fleur as the last Raccoon charged at them. Blocking the wild swipes from the Raccoon, Graham swung his sword low, trying to cripple the Feral. The sword found purchase, easily sliding through fur and flesh, drawing blood. The Raccoon seemed unphased by the fresh wound, resuming its attack on the Mouse.

  “Fleur! I’ll take care of this! See if you can figure out what’s going on with Cruz and get him off of Hould!”

  “What do you think I’m doing! Shut up and focus on not getting mauled to death!” Graham saw out of the corner of his eye that Fleur was already kneeling next to Cruz’s still prone form that still had Hould’s leg in a death grip and bite.

  “You got it.” Graham muttered, his focus returning to the sole Raccoon in front of him.

  Cruz was snarling loudly as he breathed, all traces of reason seemingly vanished. Fleur inspected his body, noticing black, pulsing veins coursing through his neck and his paws. Fleur focused for a moment, and gathered her Spirit Energy. This was going to suck. Hould’s leg flailed around, still being locked in a melee with two Ferals. One had a nasty gash across its chest, while the other was dragging itself towards Hould, its leg broken and useless.

  “Would you stop your flailing! Unless you’d like a permanent Cruz-shaped leg ornament!”

  Hould gave a displeased grunt but accented to the request. Fleur took her gathered energy and formed a Sigil with both paws. A leaf surrounded by a spiral appeared. Pushing her energy into the Sigil, Fleur felt her Spirit Energy leave her body and invade the body of Cruz. Immediately, she felt the pushback against her spell. Imposing one’s will in this way was incredibly difficult, but she had confidence in her Master’s teachings. She could feel her energy worming its way through Cruz’s system. It met resistance in major areas such as the heart and lungs, but they soon gave way to her spell, the intense beating retreating to a steady pace, and the rapidly expanding and contracting lungs slowing to a steady rhythm. When her energy met the brain, she could feel the intense energy that had plagued his mind. In her mind’s eye, Fleur could see a swirling darkness that insidiously spun like a wind storm in his mind. A pair of red eyes appeared and looked upon Fleur with amusement at her presence. Fleur sucked in a breath, immediately feeling the pressure emanated from the eyes that had appeared. Fleur quickly realized that she wouldn’t be able to fight it. At least not like this. But she can at least stop Cruz from doing what he’s currently doing. If the blood running down Hould’s leg was any indication, the bite was only getting tighter. So to paraphrase: this isn’t good. But what Fleur could do was isolate the storm in Cruz’s mind. At least stop it from controlling his body, even if it will still inhabit his brain. Directing her energy strategically through Cruz’s brain, avoiding the storm of destruction, Fleur targeted the connection between the brain and the body, forming a barrier of Spirit Energy there. As she did, Cruz’s grip lessened, causing him to slump to the ground, his eyes now closed.

  Feeling the pressure of the bite disappear, Hould went into overdrive, leaping forward and slamming his axe down onto the back of the crawling Squirrel, who still struggled to continue the fight, even with a broken leg. The Raccoon that Hould had batted away several times before stumbled after him, it’s body slowing giving up from the blood loss. Hould sneered and whirled his axe around, catching the Raccoon in the ribcage, where the axe head buried itself into the torso of the Raccoon, who all but immediately slumped over and slid off of the axe in a mess of fur and blood.

  Looking back to Fleur and Graham, Hould saw Graham dodge another swipe by ducking, before burying his blade into the chest of the last Feral Racoon. Still madly swiping at Graham despite its impalement, Graham bashed his shield into the face of the Raccoon, knocking it to the ground but losing his sword in the process. Hould shook his head at the sight. But he didn’t make a move, wanting to see what Graham would do next. Grabbing his shield with two hands, Graham slammed the edge of his round metal shield into the head of the prone Raccoon repeatedly.

  Once the Raccoon had stopped moving, Graham slid off of the body of the Feral, panting as he looked around at Fleur, who was examining Cruz’s unconscious form, and Hould, who stood watching him, the two dead Ferals at his feet.

  “Not exactly graceful, eh?” Hould said to Graham, who took to retrieving his sword from the body of the Raccoon.

  “Yea yea yea. At least it got the job done.”

  “You shouldn’t even abandon your weapon without a plan. You’ll get yourself killed against more than one opponent.”

  “And who made you the expert? Last time I checked I received formal training and you didn’t.”

  “I have practical experience fighting others. Can you say the same?”

  “I’d like to remind you that it was me who–”

  “Can you both shut the hell up and come over here? There’s something going on with Cruz.”

  “Yea. Obviously. He’s never bitten me before. That I’m sure of.”

  Graham held his snarky comment out of respect for Fleur, who was already giving the both of them an exasperated look.

  “I think he was turned into a Feral. I don’t know how or why, but the red eyes and behavior are consistent. I managed to isolate whatever spell is doing this to him, but he needs to get to some kind of real healer. And fast. If not, he could go berserk again, and we may have to…you know…”

  “I do.” Hould said seriously. “Then let’s get a move on. Our best bet is to head for the Fort now.”

  “But what about all the recruits back there. We can’t just leave them to die!”

  “Northtail, you need to decide what’s important to you. Your squad, your friends, or random strangers that are already likely dead or scattered as we are. You’d be dooming Cruz to whatever fate awaits him.”

  Graham gritted his teeth but had to acknowledge Hould’s point. You just couldn’t save everyone.

  “Lead the way.” Graham said through his clenched jaw.