Passage 60: The Discovery

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As Twitch and Vong gather materials for the fire, I decide to look for more clues among the burned out husk of the farmstead. Taking in the scene from close-up, something is nagging at my mind. There were human victims in both of the farm houses, but there was no pile of bodies by the door like one would expect if they had been trapped inside. If the arsons had killed or knocked them unconscious first, one might expect a pile of bodies in the central main room. Instead, they lay in ones and twos around the perimeter of the building as though they were sleeping.

The granary is another matter. Though no charred remains are present here, the fall’s harvest will be a greater loss to the people of Elysium than a handful of farmers. The fire took everything.

I hear a faint bleating coming from the stable and it dawns on me that the stable doors are closed and we did not discover any animals wandering the fields or woods. All the animals must have been trapped inside when the fire broke out and, luckily, it did not spread to the two-story structure.

I glance around the yard. No one seems to have heard the bleating, save for myself, and the rest of the party appears engrossed in their current tasks.

As quietly as I can, I wedge the large door open just far enough to slip in. In the dim light filtering from window vents around the hayloft, I see the animals stir at my presence. In the central corridor, a young goat has escaped from its pen and is wandering around. When it sees me, it skips over and looks expectantly at me. How ironic that it believes I am here to feed it.

I lower myself to one knee and grasp the goat by its shoulders. It tries to back away, but I keep my grip firm and concentrate.

The withering touch, which has served as a constant companion and reminder of Ner Ngal’s favor, is easy enough to use, in application. Just hold on to something. But mentally—spiritually—it demands much. I prepare my mind for a moment before opening myself as a channel to the void so that the energy may pass to His Domain. Each time I do this, I am reminded that whatever energy I keep is more or less the result of being an imperfect conduit.

My thoughts ruminate on this while spectral essence flows from the goat to envelop me. The frantic yowls of the goat spook the other animals in the dark stable, but I barely notice as I am infused with the creature’s vitality and the pain in my legs begins to subside.

“What are you doing?” Vong’s voice carries a tone of alarm.

Shit.

I immediately stop the transfer and the goat skitters away from me. I make a very good point to keep this ability a secret—especially in a virtue-loving place like Elysium. I really wish he hadn’t seen that.

I turn, still kneeling, and say, “The animals have been locked up all day. They need feeding and watering.”

With any luck, that will get the conversation moving in the right direction. He probably didn’t see much and couldn’t have been standing there long.

“What were you doing to that goat?” he presses.

He has seen something. Kurdu’s beard!

“Using magic to check it for poison or disease. I sense there is something about this farm we are missing,” I respond.

“Oh really, like what?” he cocks his head to one side like a puppy.

Excellent, his mind is placated. Yet my lie puts some of my nagging thoughts in order and I push past him and go outside. I re-examine the burned houses.

“Look,” I point to the charred bodies when he follows me out. “They were dead before the fire. Dead as they slept.”

“What are you talking about? The goblins killed them in bed?” Vong’s boisterous, overconfident voice carries over the farm yard, capturing the attention of the rest of the party.

“No, something else,” I walk to an ashen corpse. It lay curled up like any might be on a chill, autumn night, with blankets tucked tightly around shoulders. No violent death would leave a body in such fetal repose. “Poison.”

Twitch looks down at the bucket she is carrying back from the well, “Are you supposin’ the water might’n be…”

“Does anyone have any magic to detect poison?” Vong asks, clearly not knowing whether such a thing is possible or not.

It’s actually quite a simple cantrip and an absolute necessity if foraging off the land, as I have in years past. It’s so common, in fact, that Ralith may even know it.

“I am able to, but I’ve exhausted my magic. I’d need to rest before I could,” Ralith offers, stepping toward the gathering group.

Vong turns his big, dumb grin to me, “What about you, Zer?”

“Zer Khaldun.” Why is he always smiling anyway? It’s unsettling. Normally I would assume he were up to something, but I’ve spent enough time with him now to know that he’s merely exhaustingly carefree.

“What about you, Zer Khaldun?”

Finally.

“Yes.”

The spell does not last long, so I beckon Twitch to bring the bucket of well water over, as well as have the rest of the group search around for other objects that could have come in contact with poison. Pil brings a tankard and spoon before the baying of the animals from the stable becomes too much and he asks to be able to go care for them instead, which Vong encourages. Rakatha rummages through the ash and finds the bolt to what was probably the front door and a buckle to something. Twitch goes back to search around the well but finds nothing else of interest. Ralith halfheartedly finds some broken bottles perhaps a meter away. Vong scours the yard and produces an axe, a pitchfork, a sack of apples, a few interestingly-shaped rocks, and an empty cloth pouch.

Shaping the essence of water, earth, and light together, I manipulate it into the right shape for the spell and activate it with my will and a vocal invocation.

My eyes flicker with silver light and the objects around me become superimposed with the idea of toxicity. Even objects that carry no poison or venom still appear to hold the shape of that idea in their auras.

The burned body before me, as well as the bucket of water, cloth pouch, and broken bottles all bear the clear mark of poison.

Knowing I have just a few minutes of this sight, I pace quickly to the well and scan the area.


The Wordbearer Chronicles is a dark fantasy web series with new passages on Tuesdays. 

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