“Put me down. I gotta throw up again,” I said.

  “You’re not going to try and run back, are you?” Jerseil asked, slowing down.

  I had been planning to do just that, but I felt the bile rising in my throat and didn’t think I could. “Oh god, no! I’m going to fucking puke on you if you don’t drop me!”

  “Alright, my friend,” he said.

  The trees hid us while I emptied my stomach for the fourth time. I wiped my mouth and looked toward the bridge at the roar of something huge. “What the fuck is that thing?” I asked.

  “An ogre.” Harper whispered. Stepping up next to me. The ugly creature was enormous and when Juan’s arrows just bounced off the rough breastplate the ogre wore, it just laughed and advanced on him. I did not stand up. What was the point when I felt weak and my stomach would empty itself of bile and acid if I moved too much? I couldn’t help.

  Juan switched bows and started aiming at parts of the ogre not covered by its armor. It didn’t seem to do much, and the mercenaries were cheering as the laughing ogre continued to advance on the smaller archer.

  “Oh god. Juan. Please run away. Don’t try to fight that thing!” Harper uttered, her voice not quite breaking. Tears were running down her cheeks and she sat down next to me.

  Juan had gathered up several of the arrows that had missed him and was filling up the unarmored swathes of the ogre’s skin. The last arrow appeared to stagger the ogre, but barely. It suddenly lunged at Juan with speed, belaying its size. Juan jumped straight up, narrowly avoiding being grabbed. He shot an arrow into the ogre’s eye, causing it to cry out and flail about. My elation chilled as the archer flew backwards through the air before landing hard on his back. Blood sprayed from his mouth. The impact caused him to bounce before sliding to a stop.

  “Come on, Juan. Get up. You have to get up.” I mumbled.

  The ogre approached the prone man carefully, but Juan didn’t move. From where we were watching, it was impossible to tell if he was even breathing. Something must have happened, because the ogre rushed forward and grabbed the old man and slammed him down again and again.

  Harper cried out in despair, and Jerseil put his arms around her. She clung to him and sobbed.

  “No. He can’t die like that. Juan is a badass. This must be a trick.” I said. I just knelt there, all my ails forgotten, watching the scene play out in horror. The ogre slammed him against the bridge repeatedly until it decided it was enough. It then threw Juan off the bridge and roared in triumph to the cheers of the remaining Steel Falcons.

  “I’m so sorry, but you have to pull yourself together, Harper. We have to go. They’ll catch us if we don’t move right away,” said Jerseil. “We have to follow the general’s orders and get Finn away from here.”

  Harper sobbed, nodding her head. “Right. Yes,” she said between sobs. “You’re right. It’s what he wanted. Finn?”

  I looked at where the ogre was enjoying the adulation of the mercenaries, and I felt the stirring of something in me that was not usual for me. But the weakness and the nausea, cramps, and weakness were gone. “I’m ready. Let’s get out of here.”

  We had been following a faint trail for a few hours before we came to a more established one. If it wasn’t for my high tracking skills, we wouldn’t have been able to follow it for as long as we did. This was hopefully a good sign that we would have some breathing room.

  Jerseil spotted a turnoff to a decent camp spot before I did, making me wonder. But we were all tired, and the sun was setting. No one was interested in a fire or food, so we just settled down to sleep. But, of course, I couldn’t. I lay there just thinking about what I saw there on the bridge. It was bullshit. Juan deserved better than to die that way.

  I could have understood if he had been overwhelmed, out of arrows, and swarmed by more enemies than he could kill with whatever he used up close. Long knives, I would guess. I really didn’t know. But it would have been a glorious death.

  Not this being smashed like a rat or a cockroach, being slammed with a boot or a rolled-up magazine!

  I wish I had done something. Anything. If only… I was stronger. It wouldn’t do to focus on that too much. I could only do so much. The thoughts led to me checking my stats. I had to plan out where I was going to put my points into with upcoming levels.

  But then I saw the amount of experience energy I had gained. I hadn’t done much today until we were running and fighting, and the poisoning apparently took some time to kill the different enemies. As I stared at it in my mind’s eye, the experience energy ticked up slightly. One of the mercenaries had just died.

  Did they not have antidotes to poison? Or was it something else? The more I thought about it, the mercenaries likely had to fight off the spirits and their allies. And the 303rd. I’d have to ask Harper in the morning if she knew how experience from kill assists worked. Did each of those people I damaged give me experience when they died? Likely, there was a statute of limitations, and I would only get it for a short time.

  And thus ended my diversionary thinking, because this is exactly the kind of thing I would have asked Juan. Fuck. He would want me to put points into stamina, endurance, and possibly dexterity. Might as well follow the old man’s lead.

  I numbly accepted the experience energy. Almost three levels. Well, that gave me six points to distribute. I put two into stamina, raising it to 20. Then another two into endurance, raising it to 22. This pushed my health up to 258 and my potion sensitivity to 21, raising it to level 4. Thank you, Jesus! Less vomiting! I put only one point into dexterity, bringing it up to 22 and raising my AC to 20. Just for giggles, I popped one point into charisma, raising it to 18. Maybe I would be just that much prettier. And a better singer. My intelligence and wisdom went up one per level as usual, so they became 34 and 32, respectively. Which of course rose my mana to 236. A 24 point difference… that was huge.

  I could have done so much more with that 24 mana. I had grown close to Juan. He was like that uncle that always looked out for you. And so much had happened in the past month and a half. It felt like I had known him for so much longer. It was like losing my dad all over again. No, not quite. I can do something about this. We can do something about Juan’s death. That ogre. What remains of the Steel Falcon Company. Commander Xander. They need to pay for taking him from us. I. Will. Make. Them. Pay.

  ****************************

  Morning reared its ugly head, cold and damp. It hadn’t rained last night that I was aware of. The bright wispiness around us was a clear sign of low clouds. It was awe-inspiring and magical, but my grief and anger ruined the moment.

  We didn’t talk as we got moving, munching on hard biscuits. I remembered the question I wanted to ask Harper, but I waited until we had walked a bit.

  “Harper, can I ask you something?”

  “What?” she replied.

  “How long does one get experience from assisting in a kill? Like last night I noticed I had experience, and I saw it tic up while I was looking at it.”

  Harper just looked at me and started laughing. “How the fuck should I know? I never asked that kind of question. Just go with it, dude. Fuck.”

  It was good to hear her laugh. And it helped her open up a little. She and Jerseil talked about little things as they walked together. I kept my eyes open for any sign that our pursuers had come looking for us. Seeing nothing, I relaxed a bit.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “I don’t know why they aren’t following us, but I get the feeling that we shouldn’t dawdle.” I said.

  Jerseil regarded the surrounding trees. “After everything that happened at the bridge, the best thing for them to do is regroup and redeploy. Then the question will be whether they follow us on foot or go around on horses. Or both.”

  “I bet they’ll try to get out of the ruins as soon as possible. That place is nasty. And after what Juan did—” Harper’s voice faltered, and she took a second. “They were not in a suitable position to move quickly. But what really worries me is that was not the entire company. Unless they lost more people than expected before they caught up at the bridge.”

  The thought was disturbing. If that wasn’t all of them, then where were they? For that matter, would they have an idea of where we were going? I stooped down to grab a long stick off the ground. It was an old pine branch, springy from the moisture. It would bend a bit, but would break without a loud noise. I slowly worked the bark off as we

  walked.

  “How soon do you think those assholes could get on the move?”

  “If they didn’t celebrate, and if they dealt with the overturned wagons and injured in a timely fashion, I’d say two, maybe 2 and a half hours,” Jerseil paused, “Either way, they should have sent some scouts or trackers after us. It’s a good bet that they also would have been attacked by those spirits and their friends.”

  Harper nodded. “I agree with you. But that was pretty astute for a supply and support sergeant.”

  “I… well… I’ve been studying for the officer’s test,” the embarrassed soldier admitted. He rubbed his left arm and looked away.

  “That’s awesome, Jerseil,” Harper said.

  We found a decent campsite before sunset, much lower in altitude than the first one. Rocks and trees blocked the view of the main path, and we agreed a fire would be nice. There wasn’t much in the way of dead wood near the camp, so Jerseil and I went off to find some firewood.

  “How are you doing, Finn?” Jerseil asked.

  I kept my eyes out for good, sheltered spots under the trees that would harbor dry fallen branches. “I’ve had better weeks.”

  “Surely you just,” he replied.

  “Okay, yeah, I’m not good. I’m angry that he sacrificed himself. I’m pissed that ogre killed him in such a stupid way. The worst of it was that I couldn’t do anything to help. Well, okay, I was only able to do a little,” I said. I knelt down and picked up some decent branches I found.

  “Yeah. I hear you. It’s hard not having the power to change things, to help people.,” Jerseil said thoughtfully. “Really, understanding your limits is important, you know? My talents preclude me from fights of that magnitude and I help in other ways. But sometimes…”

  I waited for him to continue, grabbing more dry branches. The last thing I wanted was smoke giving away our position. When he didn’t, I stopped what I was doing. “Sometimes what, Jerseil?”

  “Hmm? Oh, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Fucking spit it out.”

  Jerseil looked at me then. “Are you sure? It’s just a silly little dream.”

  “Buddy, there’s no such thing as a little dream. Spill.”

  “Ah, fine. Sometimes I wish I could do more magic. I have my bard spells, but they aren’t offensive in nature. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a brawler and can hold my own. But if I could shoot lightning from my gittern…” He smiled. “… Now that would be glorious!”

  “There should be a spell like that. It would be awesome!” I grinned back at him, but only for a moment. “But seriously, I want to get to the point where I can hold my own, without needing to rely on the strength of others.”

  “Isn’t that part of life, though? We rely on our parents and community for years, then on our friends and comrades. Nobody goes it alone in this world. Even the Lich, with all his power he’s accrued over the years, still has people working for him and protecting his holdings.”

  I knew he was trying to blunt the pain, but all I could think about was increasing my power level. It was frustrating that it was going to take a while for me to be at the point of being the guy that could take on things like that ogre. The allure of the demon’s offer was making more sense to me. I wonder why we haven’t seen the demon.

  There were other ways to get stronger. Juan had mentioned that I would find and buy better stuff. I hadn’t found any useful equipment. Which I likely would have if it wasn’t for the mercenaries making Juan take me out of the starting area before I was ready.

  “Let’s head back. Here’s hoping Harper got a rabbit or something.”

  *************************

  Harper had gotten four rabbits and already had a fire going when we returned. My stomach grumbled at aroma of the fat, roasting rabbits. They sizzled over the fire, juices dripping into the coals, causing them to hiss.

  “That smells amazing,” Jerseil said.

  “Why thank you, but don’t expect me to do all the cooking.”

  “Oh, I don’t. In fact, I like to cook. Preferably within an actual kitchen, but I have no problems cooking over an open fire,” Jerseil said cheerfully. He squatted next to the fire, using his hand to waft the smell from the rabbits. “Oh, you’ve seasoned them perfectly! These are going to be tasty.”

  Harper chuckled. It was a deep, throaty chuckle that I hadn’t heard from her before. “They’ll finish cooking when they finish cooking. Though some of the food stores we had on our horses would have been nice. The rabbits are all we have, unless anyone wants a travel biscuit.”

  I, for one, was already sick of the things. They were hard, dry, and seemed to last forever. It was one thing if it was all you had, but come on. They sucked. So the idea of adding them to dinner was not that appealing. Now, if they were fresh, fluffy, buttery, steaming buttermilk biscuits, that would be a different story.

  Jerseil must have noticed the look on my face, and sighed. “At least we can have a decent wine with this?” He pulled a bottle out of his backpack and set it on a stump nearby. The cork came out with an audible pop and he set the dark green bottle back down to breathe.

  Harper’s eyes widened at the bottle. “That looks expensive,” she said.

  “Being in supply has its perks! I know where to get the best stuff at the best price. And sometimes, a few cases of an excellent vintage go my way. A few bottles of that stuff make red tape clear out faster than ticks on a pissed off lava hound. And when I’m trying to get supplies to where they are needed the most, that’s wine well spent.”

  “I, for one, am glad that you had it with you. Not to mention, I could really use a good drink,” she said with a smile.

  Dinner was wonderful, but not fancy. We ate the rabbit and drank a few bottles of the strong wine. Jerseil entertained us with a variety of funny stories before pulling out his odd guitar. He played song after song, many light and cheerful.

  Harper spoke up when Jerseil paused to drink some of his wine. “Jerseil, I have never heard these songs! Where are they from?”

  “They’re pretty old. Few people would have heard them. A different time when things were darker. There had been several performers that focused on cheering people up, thus wrote songs to check the horror of the times.” He laughed as if something had occurred to him. “Gods, isn’t it strange? People just don’t give up on each other. Despite how little power they have, they still try to help. Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if those same people had the capability to make things better.”

  “I think it’s sweet. And inspiring. So many people back home are so focused on what they want and where they want to be. The people here are, like, so much better in their sense of community,” she said.

  I nodded, and was about to add to it, but I noticed that neither of them was paying attention to anyone or anything outside the two of them. Crap, I am officially the odd one out, I realized.

  “I wish I had your perspective, Harper. Then I could see what you see,” Jerseil replied. He had a slightly cynical smile. Despite that, he only had eyes for her. “Though my eyes are not as beautiful as yours, so I don’t know if I could see as well.”

  Harper blushed at the compliment. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw my old eyes. They were dark brown. Totally uninteresting.”

  “Any color of eyes that you could, or did, have would be gorgeous. The lines of your face denote beauty unheard of since the fabled Akashia of Keir’nas! The contours of your horns and shade of your hair only accentuate your appeal,” he replied.

  I was shocked at the level of corniness flowing out of Jerseil’s mouth, but the sincerity of his voice was scary. He sounded like he fully believed what he was saying, and even I was buying it. I threw back my cup of wine and without looking, Jerseil handed me another bottle of wine with the corkscrew. The implication was very apparent.

  I opened the bottle, placing the corkscrew back in his hand, and filled my cup to the brim. I did not want to be aware of what they might do later, based on how they were looking at each other. Jealousy was not an emotion that I felt often. But in that moment, despite the fact that they were both my friends, I resented the fuck out of both of them.

  I really wished I had someone at that moment, so I wouldn’t feel that way. But there was no one for me. No one here, at least. You would think that I would be able to deal with it. I mean, Harper had experienced a major loss. She had known Juan way longer than I did, and it was hitting her harder. She needed this.

  But it would be a lie if I said I was that unicorn of a friend, that I would just be cool with it. I would still be envious if only Jerseil was my friend. I never got that whole ‘bros before hoes’ thing where if my bud got their rocks off and I didn’t, then I would be totally cool with it. But I was drunk. And very lonely in that moment.

  I didn’t bother refilling my glass and drank straight from the bottle as they danced their courtship. When I moved to the other side of the campsite, they didn’t even notice. Even though I had the bottle of wine. I wish… I wish Arilyn was here. Then I wouldn’t feel like a shitty friend for feeling the way I do.

  I finished the bottle and laid back on the uneven ground. My thoughts of the book-obsessed girl with the bright eyes and bouncy curls almost drowned out the sound of my friends making out not 13 feet away from me. Fuck my life, I thought. I wish I had grabbed my bed roll.