Siege State

Chapter Twelve: Adrift

Never been one for sugar-coating a situation, so ill lay it out for you all. The unit is broken. Wed be lucky if theres another group our size who made it out together. More n likely theres less than thirty or forty people left, wandering around in twos and threes in this fucking forest.

Clairvine shook her head and took a deep breath, steadying herself, before continuing, Kawlstones dead. Elensfield her voice broke a little, ...dead. My Wisp isnt showing me Markhart or Gracefields statuses. They could just be out of range, but more n likely theyre dead too.

They cant be! Gad exclaimed. They arent! Theyre Guards! You survived!

Aye, theyre Guards, trained for years to use their abilities in combat, just like me, said Clairvine, eyeing Gad as he got a hold of himself. Thing is though, isnt fuck all five Guards can do against most village-killers, let alone a village-killer swarm. Last time one of them came out of the Green, the Guards portalists were working non-stop for days rotating fresh Guards out to fight it off.

An awkward silence fell. The loss of their unit was a tragedy. Every Reaping, units would see trials and tribulations, and sometimes units came back with far fewer people than theyd left with. Given their abilities, the Guards accompanying a unit were usually among the lucky ones. The loss of four Guards from a single unit was absolutely devastating. Although units had been lost to a man before, if it was in any way common Reapings would never occur in the first place. It was a lot for them to take in. Several minutes passed before Clairvine spoke again.

Theres good news and bad news, she said. The bad news is that the swarm is between us and Wayrest, so were going to have to go the long way around. After using that surge skill, itll be a few days at least before Im anywhere near fighting shape too. Were going to have to run from anything more dangerous than a stiff breeze, and in all likelihood, well come across something we cant run from. Theres a high chance of us not making it out of the Green.

They looked around at each other, disbelieving and afraid, hoping desperately someone had some unseen answer for them all.

Whats the good news? Tom asked. The question dropped into the silence like a gold coin rolling across the floor of a soup kitchen.

That at least weve got each other! Clairvine said, deadpan, before breaking into absurdly inappropriate laughter again.

~~~~~~~~~~

They rested for most of the morning, taking inventory of their belongings, and repairing and cleaning gear where needed. There wasnt enough armour to go around, and so it was decided that those with it, would keep it. Those without would have to make do. The standing order on Reapings was to sleep with it on, although many didnt follow it. One of the soldiers didnt have their breastplate with them, and seemed sheepish in the extreme.

They had enough food to last them, thanks to the outrageous amount of boar jerky from their first encounter in the Green. Water would be no issue either, as they had enough canteens to go around too.

Around midday they packed up and moved out. Clairvine had them heading west, hoping to circle around the swarm before cutting south towards Wayrest.

The myriad noises of the forest were a reassurance to them all. Clairvine asserted they should have some indication if they were approaching the spiders by a lack of common forest sounds. The other denizens of the Deep would avoid a village-killer swarm just as they would a forest fire.

Gad alternated between listening to the forest sounds with every fibre of his being and trying to watch everything around them all at once. Blessedly, he was too busy to either complain or hassle Tom.

They marched through the day, making slow progress. The tedious task of either finding or making a path through the undergrowth went a lot easier when you had ten times the manpower to throw at it. With only ten of them, it felt as though they were moving at a crawl.

As dusk fell they came across the body of a man. Or what was left of it. Half a torso lay propped against a trunk, blood and bone and bits of flesh scattered all about it. They backed away from it, slowly and carefully, searching the branches above them and the foliage all around. There were plenty of monsters and mana beasts that could rip a man in two. Rare were the ones who would leave perfectly good meat behind.

They continued on that evening until they couldnt see any longer, and slept huddled together in the root system of a great oak, keeping watch in rotating pairs.

The next morning, they continued westwards. The mood of the little group was low after their discovery at dusk the day before. Clairvine did her best to bolster them, joking softly as they marched, teasing them out of sullen reveries, jollying them along. Tom appreciated it, even if he could see the brittleness of her smile. He had no idea how she found the strength.

At midday, from one moment to the next, the forest went unnaturally quiet. Clairvine called them urgently to a stop. Placing one hand to a nearby tree, she closed her eyes. The air around her hand, or maybe the wood under it, began to ripple like the surface of a pond. After a few pregnant seconds she snatched her hand away as if burned.

Whats going on, woman? Is it - is it the swarm? Gad asked.

I dont know, but a lot of somethings are moving this way from the south, said Clairvine. Very flatly.

Gad was oblivious to her tone. Tom was putting even odds on Clairvine killing him before the Green got him. The young student girl, whod introduced herself as Sam the night before, looked like she was about to burst into tears.

We have time, but lets not fuck around, eh? Clairvine urged, chivvying her along.

They moved off at double speed, heading west and north. After an hour or so the sounds of the forest gradually returned, and they all began to relax.

The next day passed without incident. They continued on their bearing, gradually heading more west than north. Clairvine continued to stop them sliding into a panic. The woman seemed to have boundless reserves of energy. Tom counted his blessings that they hadnt had to fight the last few days; although Clairvines countenance had bounced back to normal quickly, she must surely still be exhausted. A few days of recovery could mean the difference between life and death for them.

On the third day, a mere few hours into their march, one of the soldiers sat down and refused to move. No amount of cajoling or coercion could make them speak, let alone stand. The man just stared listlessly off into the woods. Eventually, Clairvine placed rose-wreathed hands on his head. She hissed and immediately snatched them away. For a long moment she sat on her heels, considering him, a sad expression on her face.

She sighed and stood, looking resigned. The group watched her, awaiting a diagnosis. Suddenly, Clairvines spear flickered out, taking the man in the heart. His expression didnt change even slightly. Slowly, he slumped forward onto his face.

The rest of the group started in shock, panicked gasps bursting from more than a few of them. For Toms part, he was more curious than surprised. He trusted Clairvines judgement, but it was certainly an extreme reaction.

What?! He was going to get up! Good riddance, I say! Why would you- We could have carried him!

Everyone talked over each other. Tom just stared at the corpse, seeing what they all missed. Horror bloomed in his chest. As he backpedalled away from the body, Clairvine met his eyes with a complicated expression, somehow conveying her own horror, the burden of leadership, a plea for understanding, and over it all, a veneer of grim certainty. She was a woman stretched too thin by circumstance.

The others noticed the body as Tom scurried backwards through the group, jostling against them. Clairvine wasnt far behind him. The man was deflating like an orange left to rot in the sun. Before their eyes his skin wrinkled inwards, losing its elasticity, sagging and stretching over his skeleton. Wasted muscles provided some semblance of mass, making him look like hed aged forty years in a minute.

And then there was the horrific part.

Thousands and thousands and thousands of tiny black spiders flowed out from under him. A shiny black carpet, looking more like water than life, disturbing in their glistening newness.

As one now, they moved away from the body and the spiders. Someone vomited their breakfast onto the soil. No one had any more objections. They abandoned the body where it lay and left. They may have just watched the birth of a new village-killer swarm, but they hadnt the means nor the will to do anything about it. By midday, several hours later, they had left it all far behind.

The rest of the day passed in sombre silence.

When Tom woke the next day he felt much better. The mood of the group had improved significantly too. Clairvine was back to her usual affable self. Even Gad had a smile on his face. The fourth and fifth days passed quickly, and they made excellent progress. The teams recovered spirits buoyed their efforts, and the incident with the spider-corpse was quickly forgotten.

On the sixth day, they broke for lunch in a tiny glade. They ate boar jerky and joked with each other. One of the soldiers was waxing lyrical his appreciation that theyd not run into any mana beasts or monsters for almost a week.

The thought stuck in Toms head. Its beyond lucky that we havent. Almost too good to be true

He made the sign against evil, and was just about to chide the man for manifesting bad luck for them, when Clairvines head snapped around. Instantly, the whole group was alert. Seconds later, they were on their feet, weapons in hand. Seconds more, and they heard underbrush cracking as something moved through the forest towards them. The soldier whod been so appreciative of their undisturbed flight was given more than a few side-eyes.

They stood, spears levelled towards the noise, peering through the trees, trying to make out the source. The head-high deadfall theyd worried through before stumbling on the glade fouled any chance of it.

Sounds like one something, Tom thought. Not big, and not moving fast either. At least we should have a decent chance at killing it. Sweat prickled the back of his neck as he waited.

Closer and closer the sounds came. Their nerves rose higher and higher. Tom looked around, seeing gritted teeth and clenched jaws, nostrils flaring, and the hard eyes of animals backed into corners.

A woman burst from the deadfall. Bedraggled, filthy, half-wild, but a woman. Tom recognised her as a soldier; hed seen her speaking with Woolgreen a few times. Her wide eyes were stark white against her dirty face. Scratches leaked brown blood. Her hair was alternately matted and sticking out at all angles. One of the straps of her breastplate had broken, and it hung awkwardly on her chest.

There was a long pause as the group recovered from their shock. The woman seemed to need a moment to believe what she was seeing too. She sprinted to them, and the group rushed to meet her.

Cant believe it. How- -a soldier- -sure no one else had survived! They all babbled over each other like pigeons fighting for a crust. Clairvine stepped in.

Quiet! Everyone! Give the lass some room! she said. They all backed off a few paces, beaming at the woman. If she had survived so long alone, then perhaps they could make it out of here. Their spirits soared.

The woman stared all around at them, the whites of her eyes showing all around. She snatched glances over her shoulder, rubbing her arms and huddling into herself. All of a sudden she burst into a frenzy.

We - we need to move! Theyre coming - theyre coming! They got the others, everyones gone. I - she broke off as Clairvine snapped her fingers in her face, her mouth making a comical O shape.

Get a hold of yourself, woman. Keep your voice down, said Clairvine. She grabbed the soldier by her shoulders, steering her back to where they were sitting while they ate.This chapter is updat𝓮d by nov(e)(l)biin.com

Just relax. The spiders arent close. I checked not ten minutes ago. You can hear the birds around, cant you? Thats a good lass. Come, sit. She chivvied the woman into a seat on top of a large fieldstone, pushed some jerky and a canteen into her hands.

The woman calmed somewhat, but still didnt seem stable. Tom supposed being alone in the Green for almost a week would do that to a person. After all, Hunters were all said to be crazy to a man - how else would someone endure a permanent, solo Reaping as a career?

The woman sat, nodding to herself contentedly as she ate and the rest of the group discussed their fortune in excited tones. Tom felt incredible. This was amazing! One of their lost people, found again! Something began to tickle at Toms mind.

It was incredible that theyd found one of their lost people. Absolutely staggeringly unlikely. But it felt to Tom almost like hed finally manifested. He was ebullient. He thought over the last few days, their change in mood. He looked at the dishevelled soldier, sitting happily as everyone fussed over her, lunatic not minutes before.

Clairvine, Tom thought. Shes using a Heart skill on us.

He considered her, kneeling with the woman, steering the rest of the group away from her and towards more productive activities, and coaxing her into eating more. Almost as if she was aware of his scrutiny, she turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze. She gave him a tired half-smile.

Now, that is amazing, he thought. How is she doing it? An aura? No, the amount of time she's been using it could be an aura, but the dexterity

Every Idealist had an aura, but only some manifested aura skills. They couldn't be turned off or on, and permeated an area around them. They could be narrowed or focused or retracted or strengthened, but they couldn't account for such precision as modulating a group of peoples' emotions moment to moment, minute to minute.

He pondered it for a moment. It must be her pinnacle skill, he decided.

Pinnacle skills were a special type of skill that only those with a fall could manifest, and then only after they had manifested all four skills from each of their three Ideals. They were unique in that they could only be uplifted twice once theyd been manifested, at the Exemplary and Flawless tiers, instead of at each of the four tiers above Complete like any other skill.

Pinnacles acted like a single skill, but they had an aspect from each of the Idealists Ideals. They were usually more powerful than a normal skill but, aside from that, they worked just the same. They could be of any skill type, but there were a few types of skills that could only be pinnacles. Tom was willing to bet Clairvines pinnacle was a control skill, giving her natural but limited control or manipulation of the concepts to which her Ideals relate.

It made a lot of sense. The way she seemed to get along with everyone so effortlessly could be explained by her being able to manipulate their emotions, to a degree, with Heart. How she could sense through trees using Wood. She was likely flexing her mana through them, and waiting for feedback in return. Control skills were rare and incredibly useful.

Tom felt a wave of affection for their gregarious Guard. If - no, when - he manifested, he would follow her example, always thinking of others before himself, using his skills to help people, just like she had been doing for the entire Reaping. While morale might not be immediately threatening, it was far more insidious in nature. There had been plenty of deaths on Reapings from relationship breakdowns, tantrums, hopelessness and fear.

Tom just hoped she wasnt using too much energy maintaining their morale. She was the only thing standing between them and a determined attack. Mana cost for skills went from trivial, to low, to moderate, to high, and then extreme. Even if the mana expenditure for her pinnacle skill was trivial, using it constantly, day in and day out, wouldnt leave her with much mana for anything else.

He watched her tend to the woman. Her face was set in a grin, but the lines around her mouth and eyes seemed a little too tight. Strained. A feather of fear brushed through Tom, and was gone just as quick.