The source of the fire turned out to be the remains of several wooden wagons. As the hunting party approached, Dallion was able to see more details of the scene, and just as Havoc had predicted, he wished that he hadn’t. People and beasts and burden were scattered on the ground charred or ripped to pieces, sometimes both. The remains of two large wagons lay smoldering, most of their wheels bashed off. Whatever beast had done this, it had to be fast, strong, and extremely bloodthirsty… just like the practice Guardian Dallion had faced so many times in the last few days.
“Any survivors?” Dallion whispered turning to Havoc.
The large man shook his head.
Not too far away, Gloria vomited on the ground. The smell of living remains, tolerable for Dallion and the rest, proved too strong for her.
“It’s not here,” the Cleric said in a partially told-you-so, voice.
“I want lookouts!” Dame Vesuvia shouted. “Three pairs. If you spot anything, come back here! The rest of you search the remains. I want to know exactly what happened here. Volunteers, help in!”
Six soldiers rushed off in three directions as ordered. The rest relaxed their guard and dispersed throughout the area. With less people in one spot, the degree of devastation was far more visible. Whatever the group had been, it was definitely large, by all accounts larger than the hunting party. Over a dozen bodies were in the vicinity alone and several more were visible a short distance away.
“You two,” Kalis pointed to Dallion and Veil. “Come here!”
Dallion’s stomach churned, but he obeyed. Veil didn’t seem to have such an issue, for not only did he go to the soldier without hesitation, but bent down over what was left of a half-burned corpse.
“Soldiers?” Veil asked, taking the hold of a sword from the dead man’s grip.
“Mercenaries more like,” Kalis replied, then bent down and removed the black rag that had once probably been a shirt of some sort. A glittering locket appeared hanging round the body’s neck. Surprisingly, other than a bit of blood, it didn’t seem damaged in any way. “Merchant emblem!” he shouted. “Foreign.”
Fighting the discomfort in his stomach, Dallion moved closer to get a better look. The emblem seemed similar to the one he’d been given, but was also different. Instead of six gems, it was composed of three metal rings one within another. The outmost one was made of bluish silver metal, the middle one appeared to be gold, and the innermost seemed like red copper.
“Where do you think they were going?” the Dame asked. “There aren’t any trading cities this far west.”
“They don’t need a city to trade, Initiate,” the Cleric said, making Dallion look over his shoulder. “Especially if it saves them some coin.”
“As you yourself said, there’s nothing this far west. The chance of anyone stumbling on them by accident is next to none. A perfect place to exchange illicit goods, or something more blasphemous.”
“Slaughtered by a chainling during a secret meeting. It would have been poetic if it wasn’t so serious.”
“The Seven only protect those who accept protection.”
“Hey, give me a hand,” Veil said, bringing Dallion’s attention back onto the corpse. “Grab his boots and help me turn over.”
“I want to check something without having him break up in my hands.”
Imagining the colorful event made Dallion’s stomach twitch. Even so, he had no intention of backing out. If he were to face the chainling he’d see far worse.
As the duo put the body on its stomach, a new series of wounds emerged—two dozen dagger incisions tearing through the dead man’s clothes, each as if made by a dagger.
“I knew it,” Veil smiled. “You can let go.”
“What is it?” Dallion asked.
“He wasn’t bitten and then burned. He was burned because he was bitten. It’s just like the thing we’ve been training against.”
“I don’t remember any of that.”
“That’s because you never got seriously bitten. When the creature bites deep it’s like fountains of flames passing through you. I thought it was part of the training, but it looks like it’s the real thing as well.”
“A chainling does that?”
Things became much more complicated. Dallion looked around. Kalis had gone off to show the merchant emblem to Dame Vesuvia and the cleric. Everyone else seemed to be a short distance away.
“If the chainling does that, being in the back rows won’t be very safe either.”
“I guess.” Veil didn’t seem worried in the least. “It’s not like there’s much we can do. I’ll go see if there’s anything left in the wagons. Will you lend a hand?”
How can you be so blind?! Dallion wanted to shout. Veil was behaving as if someone had removed his common-sense gland. Why couldn’t he understand what Dallion was trying to say? If the chainling could turn people into a flamethrower, then standing behind one would make things more dangerous, not less. At least in front one could do something to evade. Being stuck in the back only doomed them to a terrified existence, waiting for the inevitable. It would be better if they deserted the hunting party and took their chances in the wilderness along, instead of—
Dallion didn’t finish that thought. Rather, a new one had popped in his head.
Why am I so terrified? He wondered. The danger was real, he could see that, but that couldn’t be the reason he was getting more and more frightened by the day. Ever since the initial victory against the practice guardian, he had started acting more and more cautious to the point, he was afraid to try and improve just because of the potential of failure.
“Afraid…” Dallion said out loud. There’s no reason for me to be so afraid, unless I’m not.
Taking a deep breath, Dallion took his dartbow out of its holster. A moment later, the scene of carnage vanished.