As Devon woke, he felt something pressing into his side. Opening his eyes and glancing down, it was the Cervid, curled up beside him sleeping. His arm was aching, but he flexed his fingers and tried moving it a little, it felt much better. Whatever that stuff she used on it last night really worked wonders.
As Devon's arm shifted, the Cervid girl, startled awake by the movement, scrambled backward until her back hit the base of a nearby tree. Her eyes were wide with renewed fear and confusion.
Devon raised his bandaged forearm slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves. The aching was still there, but it seemed much better.
"Hey," he said, his voice low. He pushed himself upright to sit against the tree trunk. "Don't run. I'm not going to hurt you. I wanted to thank you. For the bandages, and for fixing my arm last night. That stuff you used worked wonders. I don't think I would have managed it myself."
She remained tense, her ears twitching nervously. She wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her tunic tight.
"I'm Devon," he continued, holding her gaze. "What's your name?"
The girl hesitated for a long moment, scanning his face for any hint of threat.
"Elara," she finally whispered.
"Elara, what a beautiful name. Are you okay? Are you hurt? I'm sorry I couldn't really ask last night. Things got a little crazy and I passed out before I could ask."
Elara shook her head, still keeping her distance. "I'm not hurt. The men kept us chained up for days, but they didn't hurt us if we behaved."
She glanced at the ruined camp, her expression shifting from wariness to a deep, if still cautious, relief. "But they're dead now, and my chains are gone thanks to you."
"I'm glad you're safe, Elara," Devon said, the small attempt at a smile feeling stiff on his face. He looked out over the wreckage of the camp. The bright morning sun, now filtering through the trees, did nothing to diminish the horror of the scene.
Elara was right; he had done this. He had saved her, but he had also killed two people.
He sat there for a moment, thinking about the previous night. They were awful people from the little he knew and overheard, men who trafficked living beings. But they were people nonetheless. Back on the streets of Earth, violence was usually swift, contained, and mostly between rivals. This felt different, it was final, gruesome, and orchestrated by a dark power he barely knew how to use.
He pushed the churning nausea back down. The remorse was real, but it wasn't something he could dwell on right now. The corpses were a danger, the blood would attract things, and they had to start moving before even worse monsters made their appearance.
He looked back at Elara, using his good arm to push himself up from the ground.
"We should get moving," Devon said. "I don't feel like staying here much longer, the blood might attract something I can't take care of and I'd rather not have to look at their bodies." He paused, steadying himself. "I don't really expect you to come along or stay with me, but we should still leave this camp behind. Do you know if they had any supplies that would have survived the night?"
Elara hesitated for a moment, then took a tentative step toward the ravaged tent. Her large eyes scanned the area, carefully avoiding the bodies.
"The rations and water were usually kept in that canvas bag," she said, pointing toward a large, mostly intact pack near the firepit. "The bandages are from a smaller leather pouch inside a satchel. And the tall one, the swordsman, always had a good thick cloak."
Devon moved first, heading straight for the canvas pack. He wanted to avoid the mage's corpse.
Devon quickly secured the large canvas pack. Inside, he found a sizable pouch of dried, tough meat strips, a small metal box with a lock on it and two almost full waterskins. It wasn't much, but it was enough to last them a few days. Elara retrieved the leather pouch containing the remaining bandages and the medicinal liquid. Devon still held the heavy sword, its blade still covered in his own blood. He didn't see any lighter, more manageable weapons. Elara cautiously retrieved the swordsman's thick, woolen cloak, which had been discarded near the body. It was heavy and smelled of sweat and old leather, but would offer excellent warmth and camouflage at night.
"We should go," Devon said, swinging the large canvas pack over his shoulder, wincing as the sudden movement pulled at his exhausted muscles. He kept the sword in his hand but then remembered the mages staff.
"The mages staff, do you know what happened to it?" he asked.
Elara pointed a finger toward the ruined fabric near the mage's mangled body. "It's right there, by the fire pit."
"Do you think you could grab it for me? I don't want to go near that tent again.." Devon said
Elara stared at the ruined tent, then back at Devon. The reluctance was clear in her eyes, but she gave a small nod. She moved forward, reaching down and avoiding the gore, and grabbed the long piece of dark, polished wood that was tangled in the remnants of the canvas tent. It was capped with a dull, silver-colored stone that looked like solidified smoke.
She pulled it free and walked slowly back toward Devon, holding the mage's staff out to him with both hands.
Devon took the staff. It felt surprisingly light and balanced, much better than the unwieldy sword. He immediately felt more comfortable holding it.
He took the heavy sword from his own grasp, reversed the grip, and offered the hilt to Elara. "Here. The staff is easier for me to handle. This sword is heavy, but it's a better weapon than nothing. Can you take it?"
Elara stared at the bloodied sword, her large eyes widening with apprehension. "I don't know how to use one," she whispered.
"Just hold it," Devon urged, not waiting for her to fully agree. He gently placed the hilt in her hand. "It's easy. You point the sharp part at anything that gets too close." He tucked the staff securely under his arm. "That's everything. We need to go." He swung the large canvas pack over his shoulder, wincing as the sudden movement pulled at his exhausted muscles.
"Do you know of anywhere safe?" Devon asked, keeping his voice quiet. "A town, a settlement, or even a landmark we can aim for? Anywhere that isn't this blood soaked camp?"
"I don't know any towns nearby. The men avoided them, they mostly stuck to the paths between villages. My village, the one they raided, is far from here, maybe a few days south." She paused, then pointed vaguely in a direction opposite to the abandoned city. "But I think the road they used to bring us here leads to a major trade route. It might be safer than cutting through the woods."
Devon nodded. A trade route suggested civilization.
"System," Devon thought "Do you have any map data or guidance? Elara suggests a trade route to the East-ish."
[Query Acknowledged. Local Area Mapping Initiated.]
[Analysis: Detected faint remnants of a rudimentary Dirt Road leading 30 degrees East-Northeast.]
[Threat Assessment: Moderate. High traffic of large pack animals and occasional predatory incursions. Lower risk of human bandits compared to deep forest.]
"Okay," Devon said to Elara, the information now layered over his vision. "We'll take the road." He pointed to where the faint navigational arrow indicated the route lay.
As they moved out of the camp and towards the path, he suddenly stopped.
"Elara," Devon said, turning back to her. "If we make it to this town, we might have a problem."
He gestured to himself. "I don't have any coins or identification of any kind. I've been wandering the forest for days. And then there's you. I'm worried about you getting into any kind of settlement safely."
Elara adjusted the cloak she carried. "There should be some coins in the mage's pack, the one you're carrying. They had a small strongbox in there."
She lowered her voice. "And if anyone asks, you can just tell them you're my owner."
His face flushed with immediate anger and disgust.
"I don't own you. I would never."
Elara met his gaze "It's the safest option for us. If they think I'm free, they'll demand my papers or try to capture me. If I'm your property, they'll only ask you questions."
Devon felt sick hearing that, but Elara's words were hard to argue with. It would have to do for now.