Her vision swam and the temptation to collapse called out to her, but she pushed it away. The Wiltwood still felt around with its tendrils, searching, waiting for a moment of weakness from her. Not only was her armor compromised, making it easier to invade her mind, she wasn’t sure if she had it in her to fight off another vision if one came over her right now. She’d have to prevent them before they happened.
Taking the last wisps of undeath, she did everything she could to stay vigilant for any mind invasions. She’d have to wait until the others were healed so someone could come help her.
Only moments later, her prayers were answered as she felt a gruff hand touch her shoulder and tuck itself under her arm, gently lifting it up.
Dizzily glancing to her side, she saw the worried face of her father.
‘Oh. Oh yea, the veteran guards. I forgot that they were here.’
She wondered where they’d been throughout the harsh fight, but it was probably protocol to let the cadets deal with everything if it looked like they could.
She felt her father bring something to her lips and drank it, finding that it was half a Healing potion as he’d probably drunk the other half himself.
He continued to support her as she heard a pop, and sound came rushing back into her mind, the absolute silence finally drawing back to reveal the loud groans and whimpers of more than fifty grown men.
With the noise, she also felt her balance slowly return and the nausea abate. Last, the potion prioritized closing the scrapes left from Deer-head.
‘I’m gonna need to do something about those wounds or they’ll get infected’ Omia thought, not looking forward to more pain from the inevitable fires.
When she was good enough to stand on her own, though shakily, her father gently released his hold on her.
“Holding up?” he asked.
She nodded, continuing to look around at all her fallen comrades. They were lucky nobody was dead with how disabled everyone was. It was still darkness, and though the undead in their immediate vicinity were eviscerated, there would doubtlessly be another swarm upon them soon enough. “We need to set up another perimeter and get the most injured back in the camp. I… don't think us cadets will be able to hold out on their own.”
Her father nodded. “You won’t have to. It’s been decided that us guards will take over for the rest of the night and explain what’s happening tomorrow.”
She grunted in acknowledgement, tension slowly draining from her face as she realized it actually was over for her. “I’m going to bed.”
Her father smiled and shooed her off after that, going to help with the rest of the debilitated cadets.
Omia peeled herself out of her armor, blood from her previous wounds still stuck to her skin. She sighed, knowing that if she got wet blood in her wool-lined sleeping bag, she’d never get it out. Cautiously, she got a pot and retrieved some snow, melting it on the simmering fires before wiping herself down with a rag quickly, then heading to sleep, passing out instantly.
Too tired to process it at the time, a small fragment of the primal mana she felt when the cadet formed his Glimpse settled within her body.
* * *
Drowsily opening her eyes, she panicked for a moment when she realized her claymore was not in her hammock, quickly rolling out and landing on her knees.
When she hit the ground, she groaned in pain as she realized just how sore she was. It was a very unfamiliar sensation, because she was so used to Life Grass healing her of it instantly back in town, but she’d have to struggle with it out here.
Looking around, she saw that she was the first cadet up. Around the camp, the full-guards were finally on watch, keeping them safe. Next to her hammock was her pile of armor, her displaced claymore lying next to it along with her bag.
Standing up and stretching a few of the stiffer muscles, she took the time to slip into her equipment before setting out to find her father.
She found him hauling some bodies into one of the pyres while discussing things with Torei and Jacob, all of them with complicated expressions.
“Dad” she called out to him, causing the three to turn.
“Omia! You’re up?”
“Yea, need some help?”
“If you’re up for it, we won't complain. There’s certainly a lot to get through.”
It was still early in the morning, so Omia couldn’t reasonably get herself out of the task of simple hauling. Normally she would be dedicated to cleansing food or built up undeath in corpses, but the hunters weren’t back yet and the undeath hadn’t reached a critical point. Without anything better to do, she silently worked alongside her father and his friends for a time before asking “So, what were you guys talking about before I got here?”
Her father sighed, “We were discussing what happened last night. It was stressful for us guards to watch, but it seemed like you all had it well enough in hand. As a matter of fact, it was likely you all would’ve gotten back on your feet before the horde came back, even if it would’ve been at the cost of every single healing potion in your kits, you would’ve done it.”
Omia nodded, she had seen that result too. If the full guards weren’t there, she wouldn’t have stood around watching, she would’ve jumped straight into helping others up and haphazardly wasting her potions to get the line back. Still, there was one more thing he hadn’t mentioned. “What happened to the cadet who formed a Glimpse?”
“Ah… the Sergeant will explain more on Riley when everyone else is up. Just wait a bit longer.”
She nodded, but still felt impatient. It would be hours before the rest woke, so she occupied her mind with moving bodies and discussing some things with Torei.
“Hey, Torei, have you ever been very close to someone forming a Glimpse?” she asked, glancing at him on her side.
He looked at her curiously. “No? Why do you ask? You were on top of Riley when it happened, did something unique happen to you?”
“Sort of, did you not feel the… force? The force of mana.”
She could tell he wanted to stop working right there and interrogate her but held off. “I didn’t feel it, no. I didn’t feel any mana at all, but I don't have a perception aspect to my Glimpse. Perhaps I couldn’t feel anything because all of it was focused, leaving no extra mana to come my way. Want to describe what happened?”
She nodded, then went into detail of how it felt like a primal force rose from the ground, tearing into Riley and burrowing into his flesh.
“I see,” Torei said. “And was this different from the mana of Wiltwood?”
She nodded. “Wiltwood feels a bit shallower, like it's a diluted form of what I saw. You know how Undeath mana feels a bit hungry, if monotonous?” she asked, getting a nod in return. “This mana felt more like an insatiable desire to consume, like it would devour the entire world if left unchecked. It still felt emotionless, just hungrier. And a lot deeper.”
She saw his mind racing through different topics, things he might’ve come across over the years clicking into place with a new revelation. Ideas formed, discarded, and reformed until he had a workable theory.
“Perhaps… that’s what differentiates Undeath Mages and those with Undeath Glimpses. The Mages may tap into the deeper idea of Undeath, while us Glimpses can only skim off the top.”
She looked at him curiously. “Does that mean that Riley is an Undeath Mage?”
She saw panic in his eyes for a fraction of a second before calming down. “No, he definitely has a Glimpse. I checked it myself, and it feels a good bit weaker than mine. I don’t have a frame of reference for depth but I feel like I’d have seen that if it were the case. Instead, I think you peeked into whatever force creates Glimpses. Perhaps that is even why they are called Glimpses. Because we only have a small fragment of that primal force's power as we quite literally, only Glimpse it, same as you did for just a moment. To become a Mage… perhaps we need to open our eyes fully.”
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They lapsed into thoughtful silence as each processed Torei’s words while they worked, but Omia had other things to think about. Mainly, the remnant of primal mana residing within her.
She hadn’t noticed last night, but a small amount became stuck on its journey through her back, settling just behind her sternum. It didn’t feel like the endless hunger it once was, but it was far deeper than her own mana.
She felt guilty about hiding it from Torei, but she wasn’t willing to give up this mana even if she could. Perhaps she could study it and find a way to integrate it into her Glimpse, increasing its strength. Its weakened state meant she wouldn’t immediately get to become a Mage, even if she could turn all her mana like this fragment, but it would be the first step if Torei was correct.
That would be for later though. It felt dormant right now as it neither weakened, nor feasted on her own mana, which she was glad for. She was genuinely afraid that if it wanted to, it might be able to devour her from the inside out like she had with Deer-head and the giant. It was tempting to try and absorb it as she did all other undeath mana, but what if it went haywire? She would want to be in the Death Eater fields when she did that… just in case.
* * *
They talked for a long time further, though nothing of import. Apparently, her dad and the other veteran guards were a little jealous of Omia’s ability to catch the undead so early, as fear of missing one was half the challenge normally.
“There’s always one or two cadets who have a Glimpse on these outings, then another couple that form one in the Wiltwood, so each excursion has a different strength or weakness. Part of the challenge is working with the tools you have, utilizing the specialties of whatever kind of Glimpse your group has access to. Yours is completely fair, but, it’s still incredibly useful in this particular situation. With you on shift, they don’t need a half stay awake half go to sleep shift, just one or two staying with you is enough, so your people are much less worn out than normal.
‘Less worn out?’ Omia thought with shock.
“How do people normally get through winter? I… don’t think we have it in us to make it all the way.”
Her dad laughed, “Well-” before he could tell her though, Sergeant Writ spoke up.
“Alright cadets! Everyone is up, so gather around. Us guards will watch the perimeter for now, but I need all you near me ASAP.”
Looking at her father inquisitively, he urged her to join the Sergeant too. She’d have to ask him the same question later.
Joining the stream of cadets, Omia found herself walking on Rory’s left, Jamei on Rory’s right. When all the cadets surrounded the Sergeant, who stood on a small box to elevate himself, he finally began to speak.
“As I’m sure you all saw last night, this is not for the faint of heart! Us guards are here to step in this time, but soon, many of you will be the guards. There will be nobody to pull your asses out of the fire, and if things collapse, people die. As such, I want to offer the chance right now- the chance to leave. Last night, Riley formed a Glimpse, but he has been mentally scarred for it. It’s clear he cannot make it the rest of the season, so there will be a dispatch of four guards taking him back to town. There is no shame in this! People die in this profession, a lot, so it is normal to back down… but when things get rough, you oftentimes can’t back down. If you’re wavering now, if you don’t think you can make it, leave. No guard will want a quivering wreck at their side, we want a dependable soldier. Things will not get easier from this point forward, only harder. If you have realized this is not the job for you, please begin gathering your stuff up. In one hour, Riley, his guards, and anyone else who thinks they are not cut out for this life are free to go.
“As for those of you staying… Us guards wish you luck, as we will continue to not step in. If your class cannot handle it, we will end up taking you back. There is always next year.”
The Sergeant Writ stepped off the box, and the cadets parted to let him through, many of them giving uneasy looks to one another.
Without everyone to help defend… it was bad last night, how much worse would it get?
‘It’s been done before. We can do it again now, too.’
* * *
In the end, a little less than half of the first years ended up leaving. Thankfully, none of the second years chose to go, but they wouldn’t share any information with Omia either. To her trained eye, she could see they knew something she didn’t, but Rory and Jamei wouldn’t tell her
“Just listen to Sergeant Writ, Omia. If you don’t think you’re gonna stand til the end, now is the time to go,” Rory assured her.
She rolled her eyes, “Fat chance. If you can last til the end of not just one winter, but two? I can last til the end of five.”
Rory laughed, “Hey fuck you, I’m a great guard. Whatever, leave or don’t, it doesn’t matter. Me and Jamei will still be friends with you no matter what.”
Luckily, she didn’t actually have to wait that long to find out. Minutes after the first years left, Sergeant Writ called them to surround him again
“Yea, I was lying about not helping you all. It’s pretty clear that from this point forward, people are gonna start dying if we don’t step in, we just wanted to get those unsteady ones out of the forest, because things really do get bad frequently when it comes to the Wiltwood. Lucky for all of you though, you’ve nearly made it to the halfway mark! That’s pretty good! Any day past the first month is above average, a month and a half is something to be proud of without help.”
His tone was much friendlier this time, as though he already saw them as full guards. It was boisterous and happy, sending relief through the crowd.
When a lot of the first years left, it’d done terrible things to the morale of those that remained. Omia’s guess was that the veteran guards wouldn’t ‘step in’ until the line collapsed a second time, but honestly it was a miracle nobody had died in the first assault. If they made the cadets fight with diminished numbers and morale, they’d start taking casualties, so this was the best course of action.
‘Well, the rest of this season shouldn’t be too bad at all if we have actual backup.’
* * *
Just as she suspected, that night was the easiest in a while. The undead continued to lay it on thick, but with experienced guards in the force, nothing became quite so desperate as their last holdout.
Omia’s armor was still pretty damaged from that fight, but one of the veterans had brought a sewing kit and repaired it as best he could. She had to rely on consuming the tendrils more heavily now that there were holes in her armor, but it was doable.
There were many more giant, unique, and humanoid undead, but she was able to witness the pros at work now. The life Glimpse guard was able to control undead attention to a degree, throwing out green balls of life that they would swarm. The unknown undeath Glimpse user could summon an intangible copy of himself that would fly around the battlefield, tearing at the aura’s of undead and forcing them to collapse.
She was even able to see some impressive manipulation on Torei’s part when another humanoid giant appeared. Similar to the one Omia faced, it attempted to bide its time for a pivotal moment- only for Torei to reach out with his mana and take hold of it.
Omia watched Torei’s undeath mana burrow into the giants aura and pull it forward, causing it to stumble. When it was close enough, Torei made a grabbing motion with both hands, pulling them in opposite directions.
After a minute or two where he was slightly vulnerable but protected by others, Omia watched Torei tear the giant clean in half through sheer manipulation of its aura.
‘Damn that was cool’
Omia’s abilities weren’t quite so showy, but many undead still collapsed around her as she did what she could to drain them as quickly as possible. Her mental strength grew by leaps and bounds, and the hundreds of undead she consumed over the course of four months led to a noticeable change in how easily she could penetrate flesh.
Something told her the ability to do that would be important one day, and equally as gruesome the moment it became useful.
The three month mark was the peak of undead swarms as they climbed over each other in a wall to reach their fleshy human targets, but veterans honed through years of combat cut them down like scythe to wheat. Undead flesh was not strong at all, unless you counted the special grade, so one strike could collapse two or three if angled correctly.
After three months though, there was a sharp drop in how many flooded towards them, leading to a wave of relief passing through everyone. Even if the full-fledged guards were strong enough to stave off the endless tide, that didn’t mean anyone liked doing so.
The last month was a cakewalk compared to months two and three, but the guards still got onto any cadets joking during the night. Even if the risk of collapsing the line was low, there were times to mess around and times to be serious. If lives were on the line, it was time to be serious.
That didn’t stop the camaraderie showing through during the day, but night was a time for battle.
She also finally got to see what Torei meant when he said many of the people with Glimpses tended to be cagey with their powers, as she asked the life Glimpse man about what his did, getting an evasive, borderline rude hint to leave him alone.
The other undeath Glimpse person got visibly red when she asked how his “floating person” worked, and she had the feeling he didn’t like that she could easily perceive the mana around her.
Both responses made her frown as she realized just how lucky she’d been that Torei was so willing to share years of research with her; after the second rejection, she immediately walked up to the man, thanking him for being her personal tutor. He smiled sympathetically, having probably gone through what she was now and giving her a pat on the shoulder.
It was a time of great growth for her, in both technique and magical power as her Glimpse was pushed to the limit, but she was more than happy to finally see it over.
When the last melt came and the ground was finally clear of snow, they made their way out of the forest around mid-day.
“Congratulations are in order!” the Sergeant spoke loudly with Darien behind him, “But I’ll keep it brief as I’m sure many of you are tired. You’ve all more than proven your grit, and I’m sure I’ll see many of you guarding my back one day. First years, there will be a two-week long break before classes start once more. Second years, your graduation will be tomorrow at the front of the barracks at exactly midday! Get your families and don’t be late. Tonight though, let’s drink! Rounds are on me!”
Normally people weren’t allowed to drink until they were fourteen, but something told Omia she’d be allowed an exception. With the passing of winter, she was now eleven and probably one of the youngest guards there were.
Still, she was a guard who’d faced the Wiltwood at the height of winter. She was sure Rory and Jamei would vouch for her, and if that wasn’t good enough, they’d surely slip her a few drinks.
