The atmosphere grew more oppressive, feeling like a thick, suffocating blanket as they pushed deeper into the woods, and the trees around them grew more twisted and sickly. The group’s footsteps were light, and they scarcely dared to breathe, but to Abner’s surprise, it was the elves that seemed most distressed by what they were experiencing. Fultri, in particular, looks scared out of his mind. His eyes were wide, his breath was shallow, and his hands trembled as he clutched his bow tight.

  “What is it?” Abner whispered once he had dropped back so that he was walking side by side with the elf.

  Fultri jumped, and Abner was just as surprised that he had managed to catch the elf off guard. He placed a hand on the elf’s shoulder.

  “Calm down,” he said, lifting his visor so that he could see the elf eye to eye. “Take a breath.”

  Fultri swallowed and nodded.

  “What has you and the Captain so jumpy?” Abner asked.

  Fultri bristled, and the insinuation, but Abner stood firm. “Please, we are in this together. If there’s danger, we need to know.”

  The elf glanced at Eskar, who paid them no heed before turning back to Abner. “There is something… nostalgic about what we feel in the air.”

  Abner frowned. The atmosphere was hardly what he’d call inviting.

  “Don’t give me that look,” Fultri said with a strained smile. “It’s an undercurrent, buried under everything awful, which is what makes it so unsettling.”

  Abner nodded, though he didn’t understand. They continued in silence until Eskar led them into a clearing. Black dust littered the floor and was piled up in a mound at the clearing’s centre. Fultri came to a stop. Abner turned and saw Eskar had done the same. Abner was about to ask what was amiss when he caught a floral scent that caught his attention. It was faint and sweet, and Abner had never smelled anything like it.

  “What…”

  The words died in Abner’s throat when he saw how shaken Fultri was. His eyes were wide, and the elf looked like he was on the brink of despair. Abner moved over to Gen and whispered into her ear.

  “Do you know what has them so shaken?”

  Gen shook her head. “There is something familiar, but I can’t quite place it…”

  Fultri breathed a word in elvish, and Abner followed his gaze to see a female elf standing on the mound, enveloped in a pale blue glow. She wore robes of pure white and clutched a black, veiny chunk of black flesh in her hand that pulsated nauseatingly. She had a regal air about her and regarded the interlopers with contemptuous green eyes.

  “What did he say?” Abner asked.

  “He called her the High Priestess,” Gen replied.

  Abner’s eyes widened, and the priest abruptly turned her gaze onto them. He could feel the force of will behind her eyes, and her regal air made him tempted to kneel, but he resisted the urge. Gen was on her knees, and Brynn had to drag her to her feet.

  “Humans,” she said, her eyes widening with surprise.

  “You’re not responsible for this, are you?” Gen gasped.

  “She can’t be,” Eskar snapped. “How dare you even suggest that?”

  Then, a curious look crossed the priestess’s face. “I didn’t think the rangers had the wits to best my guardian… so, it was your lot’s doing…”

  “This was your doing,” Fultri gasped. “But why, High Priestess?”

  The elf smiled, sending a shudder down Abner’s spine. Though he found the elf’s visage eerie, Abner could not tear his gaze away from her until something flashed across his line of sight. Moments later, something shrieked, and the spell was broken. Abner turned and blinked when he saw an enormous red flower that was almost twelve feet across growing from a bed of thick, green vines that propelled it towards them. Long, yellow pistils extended from the middle of the flower, emitting a sweet, rotting stench that made Abner’s eyes water. A thinner vine swatted an arrow Stride had fired at it out of the air, and it let out another shrill shriek from its unseen mouth.

  “Corpse flower!” Gen gasped. “Be careful, that must mean…”

  Arrows flew from among the trees before she could finish her sentence.

  “Deflection!” she cried, and an unseen shield turned the arrows away.

  “Harwick!” Brynn cried before dashing in the direction the arrows had come from.

  Abner glanced at the elves, who were staring into the trees, wearing stunned expressions.

  “Make yourselves useful!” he bellowed before muttering a prayer to Voldrus as arrows clattered harmlessly off his thick cuirass.

  Slowly, Abner made his way towards the source of the arrows. Then, Brynn fell out of a tree, and a figure leapt down after her. It took Abner a moment to identify her opponent in the gloom, and he hesitated. It was an elf, dressed like Eskar and Fultri. What was going on?

  “Help me, you twit!” Brynn gasped.

  The heavyset woman dodged a swing of the elf’s longsword by a hairsbreadth before leaping forward and burying her sword to the hilt in his chest. To Abner’s surprise, the elf scarcely felt what must have surely been a mortal blow and kicked Brynn away. It was then that Abner realised the elf’s movements lacked the grace Eskar, Fultri or even Invara had displayed, and upon closer inspection, he saw their skin was deathly pale and lined with thin vines that looked like thin veins sprouting from their flesh.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “That thing is a corpse!” Brynn gasped as she rolled out of the way of her opponent’s downward swing.

  His hesitations were dispelled, and Abner leapt forward, smashing the elf in the midsection with a quick strike of his hammer. Once his hammer struck, the elf crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. Brynn looked at the still corpse in surprise before turning to Abner.

  “Perhaps brute force was the answer.”

  The corpse flower let out another shriek as Stride pelted it with arrows. Eskar and Fultri had broken out of their stupor and were lending their aid to him. More elves dropped from the trees around the clearing with their longswords drawn. Most of them carried grievous injuries, and all had vacant looks on their faces as they converged on the archers.

  “I’ll deal with them,” Abner said, stepping forward.

  He worked his hammer quickly, striking three down in quick succession. The corpse flower let off another shriek, and the others leapt back and switched to their bows.

  “Arrows aren’t working on that creature,” Eskar warned as an arrow glanced off one of the flower’s petals.

  “Leave it to me,” Gen said and began chanting.

  Abner had a bad feeling about what was about to happen, but lacking any better suggestions, decided not to object as he focused on keeping the undead elves’ attention on him.

  “Conflagrate!” Gen cried.

  The pressure around the clearing dropped suddenly, causing Abner’s ears to pop and forcing the air from his lungs. Then came a loud whoosh followed by a great explosion that threw Abner face first to the ground. The undead elves around him collapsed, and he felt a great heat on his back. Whirling around, he saw that the great corpse flower was ablaze. It seemed to move around in slow motion as it flailed its flaming vines, setting the nearby trees alight before collapsing into a heap.

  “The priestess!” Brynn gasped.

  Abner whirled around and searched frantically for the elf priestess, but she was nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, Eskar and Fultri were bent over the bodies of their fallen comrades, pulling medallions from their necks.

  “Do you need help with funeral rites?” Abner offered.

  Fultri looked at him in surprise for a moment before shaking his head. “We will leave them where they fell so that their bodies can return to the forest. It is the ranger way.”

  “And what do we do about the fires?” Abner asked, gesturing at the fire that was rapidly spreading amongst the decrepit treetops around the clearing.

  “It’s for the best,” Eskar replied. “Let it burn the corruption.”

  Abner blinked. “Speaking of which, does anyone else find it easier to breathe despite the smoke?”

  Eskar grunted. “As I said, the fire is cleansing these woods of the corruption.”

  “No, that’s not it,” Gen said as she drifted towards the mound the priestess had been standing on.

  “Don’t you need to rest?” Abner asked, hurrying after her.

  “Fire spells aren’t as draining for me to cast,” she replied absently.

  “All the same, you should be careful,” Abner warned. “That priestess could still be nearby.”

  Gen seemed not to hear and brushed the dirt mound with her hand as she walked around it. After a moment, she frowned and murmured a spell, and to Abner’s surprise, a hatch appeared in the dirt, leading into the ground. Gen crouched on the ground and peered into the darkness.

  “Perhaps I should go first,” Abner offered.

  The sorceress nodded and ignited a torch before handing it to Abner, who found a ladder carved into the earth leading down. The stench of decay in the chamber below was almost overwhelming, and Abner fought the urge to throw up as he raised the torch and looked around. It was a small chamber that contained a smooth stone slab of obsidian set upon rocks to create a makeshift table. Upon it was a metallic bowl of black liquid. Earthen plates sat on either side of the bowl. One was piled high with rotten meat, and the other with decaying plant matter. Flies were thick on both, swarming at the sight of Abner’s torch

  “What foul…” he began.

  “It’s an Altar of Rot,” Gen murmured.

  “What manner of priestess was that elf?” Abner wondered.

  “A High Priestess of Ilarali,” Eskar said, as he and Fultri dropped into the chamber. “The Goddess of Balance, and patron deity of the elves, so watch your tongue.”

  “How could a High Priestess of Ilarali commune with the God of Rot?” Brynn breathed.

  “It’s impossible,” Eskar replied. “High Priestess Makava has devoted her life to Ilarali. She wouldn’t know the first thing about the rituals of the God of Rot.”

  As Abner approached the altar, his torch illuminated a scroll that had been laid out in front of the bowl. Runes that were as black as night had been scrawled upon the yellowed parchment that seemed to shift and twist under the light.

  Abner turned and saw that her eyes were wide and tear filled, and he face was pale. “That writing…”

  “Is it his?” Brynn asked, appearing beside her.

  Gen nodded silently.

  “Whose?” Abner blurted.

  “My brother’s,” Gen’s voice was scarcely a whisper.

  Eskar’s longsword was out in a flash. Brynn was quick to react, and in the blink of an eye, their blades were at each other’s throats.

  “So, you admit it,” Eskar seethed. “Your brother brought this taint to our lands and corrupted our High Priestess.”

  “Now, let’s think this through,” Abner said soothingly with his hands raised. “How would a young human… how old is your brother, miss?”

  “It matters not,” Brynn snapped. “Even the oldest of us is but a baby in the eyes of the elves, isn’t that right?”

  Eskar nodded coldly but didn’t lower his blade.

  “If anything, the High Priestess is the one who corrupted her brother!” Brynn cried.

  Eskar’s face turned crimson, and even Fultri looked aghast.

  “How dare you!” the captain spluttered.

  Deciding the situation was getting too hot, Abner snatched both their blades in their gauntlets and dragged them down towards the ground. “Why don’t we take a deep breath and discuss this like adults before things get out of hand?”

  “Captain,” Fultri said, speaking Herovinian for the humans’ benefit. “Setting aside who corrupted whom, the High Priestess has not left Eshkalar for centuries. How would she and a human collude?”

  Eskar’s eyes were filled with rage and loathing as he eyed the humans in turn, but at length, he sheathed his sword, and Brynn did the same.

  “You are to come with us to the city… our queen will want to speak with you,” Eskar said, his tone suddenly sweet. “There will probably be a reward.”

  “Now hold on,” Abner began.

  “We agree,” Gen said. “I want to get to the bottom of this, and Eshkalar might hold some clues.”

  “Gen!” Brynn protested.

  The young sorceress looked at her bodyguard, silencing her. “This is our mission, Brynn.”

  “Besides,” she continued, breaking into a smile. “Think of how jealous the others will be when we come back having had an audience with Queen Arshava in Eshkalar’s Royal Hall!”

  Brynn opened her mouth to protest further but closed it after a moment’s thought and nodded, while Abner let out a quiet sigh.

  “But first,” Gen said, turning to Eskar. “We should destroy this foul thing.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Eskar said.

  At Eskar’s instruction, Abner climbed gratefully out of the chamber and was surprised to see Stride standing in the clearing with his arms folded across his chest. Behind him, the forest fire had reduced to smoulder.

  “Is it over?” the boy asked.

  Abner looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “I hope it is, for this part of the woods, at least.”

  He turned back to Stride and arched an eyebrow as Eskar and Fultri emerged from the chamber. “To be honest, I expected you to have made a run for it.”

  “And let you cut me out of my share of the reward?” Stride scoffed. “You’re more cunning than I gave you credit for.”

  Abner heaved a long, drawn out sigh. “Oh, you wally.”

  “What?” Stride demanded.

  Abner turned around when he heard Gen begin an incantation.

  “Incinerate!” she cried.

  A gout of flame erupted from the entrance to the chamber, and the ground began to tremble. Abner and the others retreated quickly, and the mound of dirt collapsed, filling in the chamber.

  “There,” Gen turned to the others and smiled brightly. “A reward was an unexpected boon. What do you think it will be?”

  Abner glanced at Brynn and was relieved to see that he was not the only one who was exasperated by her naivete.