An hour later, a small, well-equipped party stood assembled at the castle gates.
Kaelen was there, dressed in sturdy boots and practical traveling clothes.
Seraphina stood beside him, her hand resting comfortably on the pommel of her sword. Her face was impassive, but her eyes were alert, constantly scanning their surroundings.
Behind them were two of her guards and a handful of nervous-looking villagers led by Finn, all armed with shovels and picks.
The mood was tense. They were heading into a place steeped in generations of superstitious fear.
"Stay close," Seraphina ordered her men as they set off. "And keep your eyes open."
The journey to the Red Swamp was a short one, but the change in environment was stark. The sparse woods gave way to low-lying, marshy ground.
A thick, grey mist clung to the gnarled, leafless trees, and the air grew heavy with the smell of decay.
The ground squelched under their boots.
"My grandfather said the mud here can swallow a man whole," Finn whispered, his voice trembling as he pointed to a particularly dark patch of mire.
"Then we'll stick to the firmer ground," Kaelen said calmly, his eyes not on the mud, but on the pools of stagnant water that dotted the landscape. They were a deep, unsettling shade of rust-red.
He saw Seraphina wrinkle her nose in distaste.
"What causes that smell?" she asked, her voice low.
"Decomposition," Kaelen replied without thinking. "Organic matter breaking down in an anaerobic environment. It releases hydrogen sulfide."
She just stared at him. "...English, my Lord?"
"Rotting plants," he simplified. "It's just the smell of rot."
He knelt at the edge of the largest pool. He ignored the stench and the nervous shuffling of the villagers behind him.
To them, this was a cursed place. To him, it was a data set waiting to be analyzed.
He plunged his hand into the cold, slimy mud at the water's edge.
"My Lord, be careful!" Seraphina warned, taking a step closer.
He felt around, his fingers closing on a lumpy, solid object. With a grunt of effort, he pulled it free. It was a reddish-brown rock, heavy and dense in his palm.
Bog iron.
He held it up for the others to see. "This," he announced, "is what we came for."
He tossed the rock to one of the villagers, who fumbled to catch it, surprised by its weight.
"It's just a rusty rock," the man said, looking at it with confusion.
"It's more than that," Kaelen said, his eyes gleaming. "It's the iron for Borin's plows. It's the steel for new swords. It's the foundation of our future." He gestured to the swamp around them. "This entire area is filled with it. We just have to dig it up."
He turned to the villagers. "Alright, you heard it. Spread out. Stick to the edges, don't go into the deep water. I want every rock like this you can find. You'll be paid by the basket."
The promise of coin was a powerful motivator, stronger even than old superstitions. With a new sense of purpose, the villagers spread out and began their work, their shovels making wet, sucking sounds as they bit into the mud.
Kaelen stood, wiping his muddy hands on his trousers, and began to survey the area, his engineer's mind calculating the scale of the deposit. This was a significant find. Enough ore to last for years, if they could process it.
As he was lost in thought, Seraphina suddenly tensed beside him.
"My Lord," she said, her voice a sharp whisper. "We're not alone."
Her hand was on her sword, her gaze locked on a dense thicket of reeds a short distance away.
Kaelen followed her gaze. At first, he saw nothing. Then, a flicker of movement. Two glowing, yellow eyes regarded them from the shadows, low to the ground. A low, guttural growl drifted across the swamp.
The villagers froze, their shovels held like weapons.
"Wolves," one of her guards hissed. "But what are they doing out in the day? And in a swamp?"
"Swamp wolves," Seraphina corrected, her voice tight. "Bigger, meaner, and territorial. They must have a den nearby."
From the thicket, a massive creature began to emerge. It was a wolf, but larger than any Kaelen had ever seen, its fur a matted, dirty grey. Its lips were pulled back in a snarl, revealing a set of long, yellowed teeth. It was clearly the alpha, and it was not happy about the intrusion.
More shapes began to move in the reeds behind it. A pack. At least five of them.
"My Lord, get behind me," Seraphina commanded, drawing her sword. The blade hummed with a faint shimmer of mana as she channeled her power. "Finn, get the others back toward the woods. Slowly."
The villagers, pale with terror, began to back away.
The alpha wolf let out a deep, rumbling growl and took a step forward, lowering its head. It was preparing to charge.
Seraphina planted her feet, her stance solid, her blade held ready. She was a Knight. She would be the immovable wall that protected them all.
But Kaelen wasn't looking at the wolf. He was looking at the environment.
Hostile fauna. Threat assessment: high. Conventional engagement: risky. Available environmental assets...?
His eyes landed on a pocket of the swamp where the ground was darker and seemed to bubble faintly. The smell of rot was stronger there.
Methane.
A plan, a reckless and insane plan, sparked in his mind.
"Seraphina," he said, his voice urgent but calm. "Can you create a spark with your sword? Hit it against a rock?"
"A spark? My Lord, now is not the time for..."
"Just do it!" he commanded. "When I give the signal!"
He picked up a loose stone from the ground. It was about the size of his fist. The alpha wolf tensed, its powerful hind legs bunching up.
"Now, Seraphina!" Kaelen yelled.
Trusting her Baron's strange command over her own instincts, Seraphina swung her mana-infused blade, striking a nearby rock with the flat of it.
CLANG!
A bright shower of sparks flew through the air.
At the exact same moment, Kaelen threw his rock with all his might, aiming for the bubbling patch of ground right in front of the wolf pack.
The rock splashed into the mire. The impact released a concentrated bubble of methane gas into the air.
For a fraction of a second, nothing happened.
Then one of Seraphina's sparks drifted into the invisible cloud of gas.
FWOOM!
A brilliant, concussive fireball erupted from the ground. It wasn't a magical explosion; it was pure chemistry. A sudden, violent combustion of trapped swamp gas.
The force of the blast knocked the alpha wolf off its feet, its fur singed. The other wolves yelped in terror and confusion, scrambling back into the reeds, their predatory confidence shattered by the sudden, inexplicable gout of fire.
The alpha staggered to its feet, shook its head, and gave Kaelen and his party one last, hateful glare before turning and disappearing into the mist.
Silence returned to the swamp, broken only by the crackling of a few burning reeds and the stunned gasps of the villagers.
Seraphina stared at the spot where the fireball had been, then at Kaelen, her sword still held at the ready, her knuckles white. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated shock.
Kaelen just brushed the dirt from his hands.
"See?" he said, a faint, shaky smile on his face. "Not cursed. Just flammable."
.
.
.
Author's Note:
Thanks for reading!
This is my first novel, so any support is hugely appreciated. If you're enjoying the story, please consider dropping a few power stones.
Even better: a review! I'm completely open to criticism and your pointers will really help me improve.