So I have fallen behind somewhat in my writing challenge...I got stuck on my April piece of writing and that inevitably snowballed into a delay writing them all.
However, I have finally managed to finish editing my May piece to the point where I'm (mostly) happy with it! So here is an update at long last for those of you reading my writing:
May: Aurora's Tale
Aurora pushed back a loose tendril of red hair, securing it behind one delicate, pointed ear as she refocused her attention on the injured man lying in front of her. His face was contorted into a grimace, the long gash that split his thigh clearly painful. Aurora knew how he felt. The same wolves that had inflicted his wound had attacked her companions on the road. They had appeared suddenly as she and her companions approached the village and their hides had been rent with strange, infected tears. Thankfully, no-one had been too badly hurt, but several of her friends had suffered similar wounds to this poor man.
Aurora let out a sigh, shaking her head to clear it of the thoughts that troubled her. She supposed that after the events of the past few days, especially the attack on the road, it was natural to feel on edge, but there was something strange about the wound that nagged at her. She didn’t know for sure what was bothering her about it. Some instinct seemed to press at her, urging her to look again at the wound she was treating.
She continued cleaning out the deep slash in the man’s leg. Suddenly, as she peered at the split flesh, she spotted something she had missed in her earlier ministrations. Moving within the deep red muscle of the man’s leg were small blue flecks, almost identical in colour to the infected ichor that had spilled from the wolves that attacked her party on the road. Peering closer, Aurora realised she had no idea what sort of infection or disease this might be.
Concentrating, she threw off the mantle of exhaustion that shrouded her mind. As energy welled inside her, she focused, casting a spell to detect traces of poison or disease. As the words of the spell left her tongue, the blue flecks immediately became illuminated with a soft glow, confirming Aurora’s suspicion. Whatever this was that had infected both the wolves on the road and this man in the village, it was some sort of disease. As she analysed the colour, the spell she had cast took full effect and she realised what the light now shining from the blue flecks was showing her. The infection was not a natural phenomenon, it was somehow magical in nature.
Probing further, Aurora frowned as she attempted to push tendrils of the spell deeper into the infection, looking for something that might help her identify more about its origin. But the more she pushed, the more she became convinced that the infection was withdrawing from the spell, somehow avoiding her attempts to identify it. She pushed harder, but the blight was elusive, skittering away from wisps of light that probed into the wound.
Sighing, Aurora finished cleaning out the man’s wound and rose to her feet. Calling over Saundek, the village’s healer, she shared with him what she had learned. Gazing up at the taller man as she finished her explanation, she felt heat rise in her cheeks. She could tell that Saundek had a certain respect for her. As a fellow elf, and a competent magic user, Aurora supposed that was her due, but it made her uncomfortable. Saundek was older than her, and likely much more experienced as a healer, at least in mundane terms. He may not be able to heal with a thought and a word the way she could, but he clearly had a much more comprehensive understanding of the healing arts. It felt strange that he should admire her, an elf who had only left her hometown a few short weeks ago. Until she joined Paula and Spring on the road, she had never left the safety and comfort of Kydegea. And yet, here she was, helping to heal a village of a magical infection.
Aurora pulled herself out of her thoughts and tried to organise her scattered mind. She was getting ahead of herself. Identifying that an infection was present in one man, and a few wolves, was only the first step in healing the village at large. Whatever this infection did, it had wreaked havoc here, the villagers unable to leave the safety of their homes without facing the feral beasts that now roamed nearby.
Although Aurora and her companions had taken care of the pack of wolves that had been roaming, several villagers had mentioned that other animals from the woods had been seen close to Mytilene, all with the same strange blue wounds. As she glanced around at the villagers crowded into the town hall, Aurora’s resolve to help these people grew stronger.
With the herbs she had gathered over the past few days on the road, she should be able to put together a basic healing poultice for those who were injured. They were being kept here in the hall, as the risk of an attack from the infected creatures was too great to allow them to return to their homes. And here, Saundek, and now Aurora, could more easily minister to them and check the progress of their injuries.
Once she had prepared the poultice, Aurora could catch up to her companions in the woods and tell them what she had learned about the blue sickness. With the ease of many hours of practice, she pulled together a poultice and began applying it to the villagers’ wounds.
Later, as Aurora followed the path heading into the woods, she wondered if the others had seen the same evidence of infection that she was beginning to see winding through the plants. Some of the shrubs in the undergrowth were flecked with blue and, peering deeper into the woods, Aurora could see thicker tendrils of blue wrapped around some of the trees. The further into the woods she travelled, the more she saw the signs of the scourge.
Aurora began to walk faster, her breathing picking up along with her pace. Something about the woods put her on edge. The silence was somehow deafening, with none of the usual sounds of forest life. Although Aurora had spent most of her life exploring the woods beyond her own village, now she felt uneasy among the trees and foliage. She had already had to stop several times, the prickling on the back of her neck convincing her that she was being watched, only to turn and find nothing there.
Rounding a bend in the path, Aurora stopped short. In front of her lay a ghastly spectacle. Lying across the trail were the bodies of several deer, leaking blue fluid into the ground from multiple wounds. They had been felled by large weapons, possibly greatswords or axes, and several were singed. Aurora recognised the handiwork of her companions, Spring’s penchant for flames leaving as much carnage as Dane and Paula’s enormous weaponry. As she bent closer, to try and work out what happened, she suddenly became aware of a deep rumbling from off to her left.
Bursting out of the undergrowth, a deer charged, heading straight for Aurora. Heart racing with adrenaline and shock, she dove to the side, tumbling to avoid its charge and rolling to a stop amid the damp leaves and exposed roots that surrounded the path. As she leapt, she spotted gashes along the deer’s side, the gaping wounds held together by tendrils of blue sinew.
Thinking fast, Aurora threw out a hand, channelling energy into the ground. She felt a wave of tiredness flow over her as her spell took effect. Vines and tendrils sprang up, pushing apart the earth and tangling around the deer’s legs. It pitched forward, unable to abort its desperate charge and the deer collapsed under the force of its own momentum.
Aurora lay where she had fallen, panting slightly from both the shock and the exertion of the spell. A few short feet away, the deer lay breathing heavily and making aborted twitches, as though unable to control the movement of its own limbs.
Aurora pulled herself to her feet, keeping a wary eye on the animal. Looking over, she felt a swell of pity for the deer. Whatever this infection was doing to the animals of the woods, she doubted it was comfortable or pleasant for them. Based on the evidence so far, it seemed to enrage them, driving animals that were usually calm and docile to attack at the slightest provocation.
Padding carefully over to the deer, Aurora could see that the wounds the fall had inflicted were leaking blue ichor, a thick liquid that seemed to bind and twist around itself rather than flowing normally. Aurora shuddered. The ichor was such an unnatural colour, almost luminescent and yet somehow dark, tainted by whatever magical force had pulled it into existence.
The deer snorted as Aurora approached, unable to free itself from the plant life imprisoning it, and clearly agitated. Aurora hesitated. It was cruel to leave it there, suffering in the grips of this strange infection, and yet she abhorred the waste of a life. With any other kill, on a hunt in the woods, she would have taken the meat, skin and bones, brought them home and used them to make tools and clothes. She wouldn’t dare use the deer’s carcass, the infection was too strange and alien for her to risk it. And yet, taking its life without making proper use of the materials it provided went against her nature, went against what she had been taught since she was a child.
Lost in thought, Aurora gazed at the deer for several long minutes. Eventually, a particularly savage twist from the deer broke her from her wandering thoughts and she heaved a sigh. She couldn’t risk it getting free and hurting her, or rampaging on to the village, and it was clearly suffering. That meant she had to remove the risk, however much it went against her instincts.
Flicking her wrist, a thorned vine lashed from her hand and struck the beast in the chest. It stilled. In the quiet that followed, all Aurora could hear was the slow, steady drip of the blue taint as it fell to the ground.
As Aurora headed deeper into the woods, she began to notice ever more frequent signs of the infection. Before long, almost every tree and plant she passed seemed to contain traces of the blue canker. In some places, thick vines the size of her arm were wound around the larger trees, somehow seeming violent and threatening, despite the stillness of her surroundings.
Aurora paused to examine one of the vines. Perhaps looking at the infection in a plant rather than an animal or a human might help her understand more about it. Thinking hard, Aurora realised she didn’t know of any other disease or infection that could affect both plants and animals. As she bent closer to the tree the vine was wrapped around, her concentration was broken as she heard a harsh cry from above.
With a burst of raucous caws, a flock of ravens descended sharply from above. They dove towards her, screeching, and Aurora cringed at the broken sound. As they dropped from the sky, she could make out the now familiar blue tendrils that were wrapped around the birds’ throats and wings, distorting their harsh cries.
The flock swooped down to harry her, darting closer, aiming to strike her with their beaks and claws. The razor-sharp talons looked to Aurora as though they might slice the flesh from her, if she let them hit her. Leaping backwards with the grace of an elf, she vaulted for cover, rolling once, twice, before coming to a halt in the undergrowth by the side of the trail. She waited, panting, lying in the damp tangle of fallen leaves and brush. The earthy smell of the leaves and sharper scent of damp earth filled her nostrils as she flattened herself to the ground, hoping that the cover provided by the tangle of bushes above her would allow her a few seconds to catch her breath. The flock circled the area, confused, searching for their target.
Suddenly, as if responding to some unseen signal, the ravens coalesced into a tightly packed group. As one, they opened their beaks, releasing a horrific shriek that seemed to pierce Aurora’s skull and reverberate through her. Desperately, Aurora threw her hands over her ears. The sound echoed on, violent and unnatural. Aurora felt a pressure begin to build in her temples as she pressed her hands even more tightly to her head. She began to feel dizzy, pulsing pain flaring behind her eyes. A drop of blood fell to the ground in front of her. Her nose was bleeding, capillaries bursting from the ringing cry. Aurora knew if she didn’t stop the noise, it might cause lasting damage.
Summoning a burst of energy, she let it coat the inside of her mouth, power fizzing on the tip of her tongue. She screamed out, a desperate cry of “stop!” that she hoped would be enough to break the endless flood of noise. Despite the magic coursing through the word, the ravens ignored her plea. Aurora let the power ebb away, as the drop of blood on the ground was joined by a steady crimson stream. She clutched her head, wondering how long it would take the agony to knock her unconscious.
Luck was with her. Moments later, the ravens’ call ceased. Apparently realising they were unable to reach her, sheltered under the brush as she was, they began to disperse. In a whirl of feathers and sharp claws, they moved away, once more apparently responding to some external trigger. Seeing her chance to prevent the infection from spreading further, Aurora summoned another burst of power. Throwing a hand out in front of her and uttering the word of power, she called forth a burning moonbeam. It blazed from the sky, incinerating the birds.
Aurora fought a wave of dizziness as the spell took its toll, draining her already low energy reserves with the force of its invocation. Climbing to her feet, she spotted another dark cloud in the distance, a whirl of feathered creatures apparently harrying a target of their own. Finally managing to slow her breathing, Aurora began to hurry along the path, fearing her friends may be subject to their own attack.
Clinging desperately to her remaining energy, Aurora paused for a moment to examine a broken branch. Spotting the signs of people having passed this way, Aurora realised her companions must not be too far ahead of her. Glancing up, a thought occurred to her. The flock of ravens she had seen ahead might well have been attacking her group. And the longer she took to catch up to them, the less help she could be. Clenching her jaw, she pulled a small wooden figurine out of her pocket. Grasping it hard, she concentrated, feeling her limbs begin to elongate and hair begin to sprout along her skin. She gritted her teeth against the unpleasant prickling sensation. Her face began to warp and stretch, she fell to her hands and knees, her fingers merging and reforming. Within seconds, she stood on four legs as a large horse. Snorting, she shook off the painful aftermath of the transformation and began to gallop along the path.
As fast as she’d been moving before, it was nothing compared to the speed at which she could now race along the trail. Her ears seemed more sensitive in this shape, and she could hear that the cawing of the birds from up ahead had ceased.
Before long, she rounded a bend and could make out humanoid shapes ahead on the path. Pulling quickly to a halt, Aurora let the magic binding her to the horse’s shape flow from her, returning to her usual form. As she regained her usual senses, she recognised her friends and moved to greet them.
They seemed pleased to see her, Dane’s rumbled greeting joined by Oscar’s calm cadence as he welcomed her return. Paula and Spring’s melodic voices were accompanied by Amplifier’s blunt comment of “decided to join us after all then? Had enough of tending to scraped knees and twisted ankles?”
Looking around at the group, Aurora realised they had clearly been through their own trials as they passed through the woods. Both Paula and Dane were sporting fresh scrapes and bruises, despite the apparent thick skin of the goliath, unarmoured as he was, and Paula’s armour. Oscar seemed unharmed, his pale travelling clothes showing only slightly signs of rumpling, although Aurora knew it was likely that Paula and Dane had been on the front lines of any attack. Amplifier was his usual blunt, chatty self, although Aurora imagined it would be hard to phase him, the mercenary’s long history of working in the midst of widespread conflict having long since adjusted him to the more strange events of the world.
Rather bizarrely, when Spring talked, Aurora could see that their tongue was tinged slightly blue. Aurora tensed when she spotted it. Could it be an early sign of the infection?