The following morning went past in a blur before Reyleigh found herself standing outside the city gates. She had met up with Purity, Harald and Owen and was talking amicably with them. At the same time, she was side eying Themis’ back. The man was insufferable and had already mocked her race two times, almost come to blows with Harald, and even the stoic Purity was forced to flick away a roaming hand. Reyleigh really hoped he wouldn’t jeopardise the exam. This was not the time to cause idiotic distractions or pit people against each other.

  While she was stink-eyeing Themis, Alistair appeared.

  “It’s time,” he said, not one to mince words.

  “We are – as you probably have guessed – going north. Some of you may have traversed the northern forest before, but don’t think that your experience will save you from its dangers. Monsters, venomous insects, rot and despair await you. I will be watching from afar, but will not intervene unless you’re about to die.”

  He paused to look into the eyes of each of them, one by one.

  “Few die on the way to the dungeon during an exam, but it has happened.” A small smile made his eyes sparkle.

  Reyleigh smiled as well. She recognised the last warning for what it was; a misguided attempt at humour. She had confronted him multiple times about his sadistic humorous quirks, but she had given up trying to change him. This wasn’t the first time he had said things like this with a smile, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

  Shaking her head, she looked at the others. Purity looked like she had swallowed something vile and held her stomach. Harald and Owen were a shade paler, and even Themis shook slightly. Being told by a man with unfathomable power that you might die made an impact.

  As she was about to say something to reassure them, Alistair caught her attention and motioned for her to keep silent. For a moment, she contemplated saying something anyway, but she eventually resolved to let it go. If he wanted them on edge, it wasn’t her place to question it.

  Alistair—still smiling—turned around and, without further fanfare, walked through the gate.

  Reyleigh took in the latticework portcullis and realised the north gate was smaller than its counterparts in the other cardinal directions. She had come this way once before, but hadn’t noticed how out of place it seemed. Looking now at the bleak wasteland beyond it, she felt like she understood why the city hadn’t prioritised the northern gate and choose to make it easier to guard and more defensible.

  Soon they cleared the moat outside of the walls and she could see the arid plains stretching towards the horizon in all its dusty glory. Far in the distance, she knew the Northern Forest and its gnarled trees were waiting for them. She had learned from Alistair that the forest ended in more arid plains that continued for untold miles until they hit the great sea. The sentient races had long since abandoned the inhospitable landscape, making it a breeding ground for monsters. There had supposedly been a large country on the plains some three centuries ago, but whatever was left of it could no longer sustain civilization.

  The group walked at a brisk pace, set by their frontliner Harald. Alistair had disappeared and was scouting ahead while leaving markers for them to follow. The bent sticks or hills in the dirt were part of the test. If they lost their way, they would lose marks and Alistair would have to come guide them. All around, gnarled trees and thorny bushes started cropping up, but the actual northern forest wouldn’t start for another day of travel. And when it did, they had been told they would notice.

  “Any of you been to the north?” Owen asked, back to his laid-back self. He had his hands behind his head and was sporadically whistling.

  Reyleigh looked at the sky in contemplation before answering.

  “Alistair took me out to gather venom at the forest border once. I’m not sure if it was to scare me or if he genuinely needed more poison for his arrows, but it was a learning experience. The snakes out here have venom that can kill you in just a few days if you can’t get to a healer.”

  “You don’t say?”

  Owen dropped his arms to his side and started paying close attention to the ground. He continued while his eyes darted around.

  “I’ve mostly been to the south and west. The Fire Caves and Black Night guard duties were my first real trips outside the walls. Both those dungeons are scary as hell, though. I’m glad we’re not going there, even if we are basically expendable scouts for this new dungeon.”

  Harald, who had been walking a few steps in front of the party, slowed down and shrugged.

  “I agree. Nature domain is more or less the perfect dungeon, no lava trying to melt your face off, no shadows trying to fuck with your mind, just friendly beasties and maybe a horny fairy or two.” The big man grinned with a faraway look in his eyes.

  Reyleigh quickened her pace and smacked the back of his head. He turned around with a wounded expression on his face.

  “Don’t get carried away! You know as well as I do that fairies can kill you at a hundred meters with a fireball, or just turn your brain into mush.”

  Before anyone could react to Rayleigh’s warning, Purity spoke for the first time since they left the wall. “It’s undines who have sex with you. Not fairies.” Her deep voice resonated across the plain and had a throaty quality to it.

  Reyleigh bounced right off of Harald’s back. The man stood rooted to the ground like a tree and didn’t seem to notice Reyleigh crashing into him. Quick as a lizard, he turned on his heel and ran over to Purity.

  “Tell me all the details! Undines right? What are they like? How are they equipped? And most importantly, do you know any?”

  Owen popped up as well and joined in with more questions. While Themis stood to the side, his head suspiciously turned toward the conversation. Purity looked warily at all the men staring at her with puppy-dog eyes before she quickly reformed her standard non-caring expression and promptly ignored them.

  Try as they might, the boys couldn’t get Purity to spill the beans on the Undine, but that didn’t discourage them from trying all the way to the first campsite. Their antics kept the mood light and dispelled the eerie silence of the wasteland. Alistair had marked the campsite with the agreed upon signal for making camp; a red ribbon tied around a stick in the ground.

  Having set up camp a number of times before in various training exercises, the recruits fell naturally into their required roles and even Themis contributed, which meant they finished within the hour. Reyleigh unrolled her bedroll inside the dome of light cast by the campfire, but far enough away that she had her personal space. Harald and Owen were used to her skittishness and waved away Themis when he tried to make comments about it. The insufferable armoured idiot still had a sneer on his face as she set up her bedroll. But that was nothing new.

  Eating a cold meal and feeding the small fire kept them occupied until the stars came out. Soon, most of them entered their bedrolls and went to sleep. They set a watch with a shared rotation between all of them. Reyleigh drew the longest straw and got to skip watch-duty in favour of the last watch the day after.

  Laying in her bedroll, she listened to the whispered conversations between Owen and Purity while they kept first watch. The crackling of the fire and the dusty but still fresh air made Reyleigh’s eyes heavy and soon she drifted off to sleep.

  She awoke well rested to sunlight and the sound of clashing steel. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she sat and looked for the source of the commotion. It didn’t take long to see that Harald and Owen were sparring in a small circle dug into the arid earth on the other side of the burnt-out bonfire.

  They danced around the field. Owen occasionally testing the bigger man’s shield, which prompted the short-sword Harald wielded to dart out like a viper’s tongue in quick retribution. They were clearly holding back and sparring mostly as a warmup before the upcoming day’s march. She had to admit; they were pretty good. Analysing their swings and dodges, she was, however, quite certain that she could best both of them in a one-on-one fight, especially with the sheer power and reach of her greatsword.

  Owen usually relied on stealth, even in open combat, with feints and lounges designed to keep his enemy on their toes. He also loved using the environment to ambush unwary foes. Because the Watches’ sparring grounds contained no natural features or hiding places, he was at a severe disadvantage against the much more straightforward hack and slash tactic employed by Harald and most of the other recruits. Still, he always participated in the Watches’ usual hand to hand sparring—like the one in which Reyleigh knocked him out the day before—but his actual strength lay in the shadows from which he could hit with precision and skill.

  Harald was a classic large shield user and utilised his sword and board to whittle down his opponent by taking hits on his shield and retaliating in short bursts. He specialised in death from a thousand cuts and was a hard nut to crack, even with superior attributes like Reyleigh’s.

  Overall, her battles with the two had always been hard won – even if she was undefeated – which meant that the two were probably in the top five fighters of the recruits. Seeing them sparring elicited a feeling of contentment in Reyleigh, as she knew they had really earned their place in the exam, just like her. Turning her head to the stoic figure of Purity packing her supplies and the aloof Themis munching on some jerky to the side, she couldn’t help but wonder if the unfamiliar pair were on the same level or if they were taking the exams based on some other merit. Had they paid or cajoled their way in? Were they geniuses or just diligent workers? Themis never really trained near her anymore after he had requested a transfer into another unit, and Purity was in another branch altogether, so she knew very little about them. Themis only really interacted with her in the barracks, which told her all she needed to know about his personality but little about his actual combat prowess. He had flinched at her punch earlier, though, which was good. Very good.

  Sticking a piece of jerky in her own mouth while smiling, she stood and slung her pack over her shoulder. The boys had stopped sparring and were wiping their brows with a rag. Themis was looking north with a rare sombre expression. Alistair’s earlier warning about the dangers of the Northern Forest rang in all their heads, it seemed.

  She wanted to needle Themis for his apprehension, but knowing things only got more deadly as they neared the forest made her refrain. Reyleigh was actually glad that he took the test seriously. She had been afraid that he would turn it into some sort of pissing contest and was frankly surprised at his good behaviour so far.

  Walking over to Purity, Reyleigh waved at Harald and Owen, who were doing a few after-workout stretches.

  “Hey sleepyhead! We had time for a practice match and breakfast before you deigned to grace us with your presence. I’ll never understand how you’re able to sleep like that out here.” Harald shook his head and gestured to the wilderness.

  “I guess I just like being outside the city… Something about nature and the flow of it calms me, I guess. It just feels right out here. Not that the city is bad, but this place, even with its many flaws, is so beautiful and calming.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  The clanking of metal preceded Themis’ oily voice as he walked towards them. “Must be your filthy blood calling to you. Why don’t you just answer it and live like your savage brothers and sisters? I’m sure they’d be happy to have you. Might even feel more like yourself gulping down raw meat and living in a tree.” His signature sardonic smile was like a gash on his face while he delivered the insult.

  As always, he was regurgitating the same preconceived drivel, and Reyleigh let it wash over her. While it hurt, she had long since learned not to react. Letting slip that the abuse affected her only made it worse. Besides, she smiled her tight-lipped smile when she realised; he had kept Alistair out of it. He obviously didn’t dare insult him out here—like he had done in the barracks—since he never knew if the stealthy ranger was within earshot. Being bigoted towards her elven heritage was the best he could manage, and even though it hurt a little, the satisfaction of knowing he was afraid of going further balanced it out.

  Letting her smile grow into a saintly, tight-lipped smirk, Reyleigh walked closer to Themis and got right in his face. His disgust mounted the closer she came.

  “If living in a tree was all it took to never see your ugly mug again, it’d be a good deal Themis.”

  His face reddened, and he opened his mouth for a retort, but just before he could deliver it, Alistair’s voice rose over the encampment. Reyleigh’s heart leapt, but not as much as Themis’, who jumped straight off of the ground in surprise.

  “Good job with the camp.” Alistair smiled, obviously aware of the now panting Themis.

  “We will be entering the northern forest in about two hours. Be ready for anything. A pack of goblins were spotted in the area a few days ago, so don’t let your guard down. If anyone gets poisoned or sustains a serious wound out here, the exam will be over.” The finality in his voice and intense stare punctuated the serious warning. “I’ll be much closer to you from here on out. You won’t see me, but I’m here. If there’s an emergency, just call my name and I’ll find you. Now get your asses moving!”

  Just as his words died on the wind, he took a couple of steps to his right and seemed to shimmer before Reyleigh lost track of him. His stealth abilities were uncanny to watch.

  “Damn! I wish I could do that. He’s so freaking cool… Just like poof!” Owen was making an exploding motion with his hands, his eyes glittering.

  “I can ask him for his autograph if you want, Owen. I’m sure you could mount it on the wall in the barracks somewhere, or sleep with it.” Harald was openly grinning at his friend while he teased him.

  “Shut up! You wish you had his power. We all do. That’s why we’re here, right?” Owen looked around at both Reyleigh and Harald, who nodded sheepishly.

  Harald scratched his cheek as he replied, “Of course Owen, jeez, we all think he’s cool, but you don’t have to point it out like that.”

  Alistair was the primary draw for recruitment into the Watch. Which meant that they were all here for the same reason; to get however close to his power as they could. But Reyleigh had to agree that pointing it out so crudely made a few motes of embarrassment surface inside her. She had an even closer bond to him and had entered the Watch because she wanted to be useful and pay Alistair back for helping her so much. The bond the two of them shared was something she dearly cherished – even though it wasn’t always reciprocated. The few times he actually complimented her or gave her advice led her to believe that even though he seemed closed off, he did feel the same deep down. He had never told her as much, but she was sure it was true. In the small night hours, if she was truly honest with herself, she knew Alistair was the closest thing she had to a father.

  After a little while, the conversation died down, and the group continued their foray into the dry and weathered wasteland. It didn’t take long before they noticed a sudden increase in the telltale thorny bushes and gnarled trees native to the Northern Forest. The forest really needed a better name, but Reyleigh guessed that unimaginative names were common because most people hadn’t really travelled anywhere. There was only one forest near Unbern’s northern side, after all.

  As they wandered farther north, the trees became a little taller, just slightly taller than Reyleigh’s full height. They were also a lot wider. Both the trunks and the crowns gave the illusion of endless expansion and the snaking branches twisted and turned like they had endured gruelling torture, as if something had squeezed them into unnatural shapes, unwilling participants in their own growth. The bark was grey and hard as stone, with spots of yellowish green where fresh growth sprouted.

  The thorny bushes crowded the ground and clung to the trees. Harald switched places with Owen, who used his well-maintained daggers to cut his way through. He had to be careful, however, as spiked thorns were everywhere, just at the right height to jab at his most sensitive spots. Owen cursed as he hacked and slashed their way forward.

  Overall, the forest gave off a feeling of sickly emptiness, surrounding them on all sides, and Reyleigh imagined the branches crawling towards them, conspiring to blot out the sky. Shivering, she tried to shake the feeling by rubbing her arms, but couldn’t get rid of the sense of wrongness creeping up inside her. The unnatural stillness and sickly feeling the forest gave off was the opposite of the comfortable contentment she usually experienced when outside the walls. It was as if nature itself abhorred the growth here. Alistair’s warning that they would know when the forest started rang true, as the unnaturalness was unmistakable.

  “I don’t like this,” mumbled Reyleigh as she carefully navigated the latest set of thorny brushes. “This forest is unnatural. I feel like it’s paying attention to us…”

  “I see thorns and trees only. No unnaturalness.” Purity said in a low tone. To Reyleigh, it sounded hollow, like she was trying to convince herself just as much as them.

  “Me neither,” added Themis, “and keep your inane rambling to yourself. If you’re trying to influence us to make yourself look better; don’t bother. I won’t fall for your petty schemes.”

  To Reyleigh’s surprise, he was the only one who seemed unaffected by the atmosphere.

  “I’m not trying to do anything, Themis, just telling you how it feels! I don’t know if my detestable elven blood is actually calling to me or if it’s some other instinct, but I don’t like it here.” Reyleigh answered.

  She looked at Owen and Harald, who tensed up at her warning and was moving even more slowly. Harald took the lead again, his massive wooden tower-shield in front with his short sword slowly clearing the way. Owen was staying close behind him, both his daggers still drawn, ready to strike. Purity was bringing up the rear with Themis, and Rayleigh was in the middle.

  Themis looked like he wanted to say more when they slowed their pace, but wisely kept silent as he picked up on the sudden seriousness of the group.

  After walking in tense anxiety for another few minutes, the sudden sound of snorting made Reyleigh tap Harald on the shoulder. He stopped, and she focused. She had better hearing than most humans—curtesy of her eleven ears—and both Owen and Harald knew to take notice when she heard something they didn’t. The sound had come from a copse of trees to their right, which had grown together, forming a tapestry of branches weaved into a natural wall. Reyleigh tapped Owen on the shoulder and pointed at the copse in question. The warning rippled through the tense group and they held their collective breath, entirely focused on the point Reyleigh indicated.

  Reyleigh’s stomach did a somersault as Themis’s voice tore through the thick silence. In a panic, she was about to hush him. But she was too late.

  “Hey. What are we—”

  At the exact time the words left Themis’ mouth, a massive humanoid creature leapt from behind the wall of branches.

  The monster was sickly green, like the patches of fresh growth on the surrounding trees, and had blended perfectly with the natural wall. It was double the size of a normal human, with long hulking arms dangling all the way to its ankles. It was naked apart from a set of dirty cloth squares covering its private parts. Landing a few dozen feet in front of them on a bare patch surrounded by murderous thorny bushes, it growled, its muscles bulging and flexing at its throat and neck. Two small horns grew out if its bald head, curving slightly to either side. Reyleigh recognised it as an ogre, a monster type mentioned frequently in their lessons with multiple sub-types, none of which had this colouring or quite the same hulking physique.

  With an expression of glee on its piglike face—which sported a set of tusks from its lower jaw—the ogre exploded into motion and covered half the distance between it and Harald, who was in the lead, in a flash.

  The group stood frozen when the creature unhinged its jaw and turned its growl into a deafening roar, spittle flying everywhere. As if a thread snapped at the sound, the group regained their wits and their training took over as everyone exploded into action.

  Reyleigh drew her greatsword and ran toward Harald, Purity drew her mace, Themis shouted something, and Harald barrelled toward the creature with his massive shield leading the way. Owen ran in behind Harald’s shield, his daggers held in a reverse grip.

  With a massive crash and splintering wood, Harald caught the creature’s fist on his shield as the two forms collided. Harald was a large man, but the sheer size of the monster was such that the impact pushed him backwards, making him skid over the small patch of clear ground. Not prepared for the sudden reversal in momentum, the bigger man almost bowled Owen over. He somehow managed to not stab Harald and used both his hands in a desperate bid to steady his friend while clinging to his back.

  Before the creature could hit Harald with another potentially devastating blow, Purity ran up and swung her mace low, aiming for one if its knees. Just as the blow was about to hit, the creature sped up, its form blurring out of focus, before it twisted, one of its arms swinging wide, hitting her side, which sent her flying. Her petite body made a whistling sound as it curved through the air and crashed into the smaller trees opposite where the creature had ambushed them before she tumbled out of sight.

  Icy shock ran through Reyleigh’s entire body at the speed of the monster. She had seen Alistair move like that, but an ogre shouldn’t be able to use such advanced abilities. Charge was common—even among monsters—but an ogre using a skill with a speed boost like that was unheard of. She didn’t have time to lament the unfairness of the world, however, as she reached the hulking beast and swung her greatsword in a wide arch, aiming at its head.

  Seemingly having used its allotted speed for the moment, the creature couldn’t fully react in time and opted to dodged desperately to the side. Its last-ditch manoeuvre caused the blow to miss the head and land on its right flank instead, rewarding Reyleigh with yellow blood flying in a wide arch as her sword sliced its flesh. The thing let out a roar and spun around to retaliate, but a scream ripped through the air behind it, interrupting its trajectory. Themis flew through the air and landed on its back with the sound of metal hitting flesh. His greatsword slammed into the shoulder of the ogre, making it howl and turn its head to the new threat, now with a look of pure fury on its bestial face directed at the armoured mass clinging to it.

  The hulking form of the ogre blurred again, moving it ten meters in less than a second, leaving Themis floating in the air, with no sword in hand, before he hit the ground hard. It would have been a comical sight if not for the sickening crunch and subsequent scream when he landed awkwardly on his ankle. The creature—who ended up back in front of the wall of branches—reached one of its arms behind its back at an unnatural angle and ripped out the Themis’ sword before tossing it aside. Its piglike yellow eyes now entirely focused on the downed form of Themis, screaming with his hands around his leg.

  The hairs on Reyleigh’s arms stood on end. It was as if the air thickened. She moved her eyes from Themis’ agony to the ogre and gasped. The creature bulged, every single muscle flexing and popping. Its form crouched like a spring. She watched in slow motion as it tensed and flexed farther than she thought possible. In desperation, she started running towards it. She had to stop it from completing whatever it was doing; every fibre of her being was screaming at her to act.

  Her muscles strained as she pushed them beyond their limits, her joints snapped and crackled under the pressure, and she was dimly aware that a scream ripped from her throat. With pure conviction and force of will, she compelled herself to move faster than she had ever done before. Pain stabbed her joints like needles, her bones rattled as if they were being wrung and dried, but still she struggled to move even faster. The air around her thickened even farther than what the bulging creature could on its own. It felt like mud as she clawed herself forward one agonizing step at a time. Just as her scream sounded in her ears like it was coming from far away, her body lurched. The surrounding pressure lessened, and the world seemed to blur. Taking a dozen steps like they were one, it felt like she skated across the earth. Before she knew what had happened, she was standing an arm’s length away from her quarry; her scream spent and her breath coming in harrowing gulps.

  Elation flowed through her aching body as she realised she had used Charge for the first time, but this was not the time for celebration, as the pinprick eyes of her foe moved away from Themis and locked on to her.

  Its muscles reached the apex of bulging tension and transparent tendrils appeared out of thin air all around its body, like heat waves in summer, but instead of wafting away from the creature it was as if it were sucking the tendrils in, absorbing translucent energy from the surroundings. The air around Reyleigh grew thicker still as the magic intensified—for it was surely magic.

  Reyleigh could taste a metallic tang when she opened her mouth in another savage scream, this time baring her pointed teeth in a warrior’s shout, and with both hands she whipped her greatsword in a heavy upward crescent, aimed directly at the groin of the monster before her. The creature’s eyes went wide as it saw the greatsword coming. It growled but couldn’t unleash its magic before the sharp edge tore into its soft flesh. Bellowing in pain, the creature tried to move its body to the side to escape the sword now stuck in its most sensitive parts, but Reyleigh was having none of it, and threw her weight onto the blade, using a sawing motion to force it higher.

  Blood and guts spilled forth from the grizzly wound. She gagged as the stench hit her, but she didn’t stop, focusing every speck of awareness on the back-and-forth motion of her arms. Utterly focused on her task, she realised way too late that the creature had regained its remaining wits through the harrowing pain and that the surrounding energy had reached a crescendo.

  With an immense explosion of sound and force, the magic the creature had been harvesting burst out like crashing waves. Reyleigh’s sword shot away like an arrow preceded by chunks of intestines and organs. Reyleigh’s eyes went dark, and she felt a warm liquid embrace engulf her before she lost consciousness.