As their group departed toward the Trial of Strength, the clouds turned a deep orange. Aaron took in the dusk-lit forest they walked through, the atmosphere thick with an ominous feelings.

  Have the others not realized what happened? Are they still under the mind mage’s control?

  Theon and Rhea were smiling broadly, yet their watchfulness remained intact. Each of them had picked up a sturdy stick to fashion into a thrusting spear. They would sharpen them tonight.

  Are they riding an afterglow? Should I mention this? Aaron exhaled—louder than intended. Theon and Rhea looked up, spears raised. I’ve been open so far—might as well continue.

  “Did you notice how the mind mage made you like him?” he asked directly. They looked at him in puzzlement.

  “Which mind mage?” Rhea asked slowly. Has he erased himself from their memory? Damn, that’s a dangerous magic. But it’s also pretty cool. Would I do something like that? What does this kind of power do to your own mind?

  “The one who was waiting for us at the top of the hill. He spoke in my mind,” Aaron continued.

  “That was just a senior slave,” Theon declared confidently, giving Aaron a strange look. “I know him. His name is Akiris. He organizes labor around the Agora.”

  He shook his head. “Aaron, mind mages are not subtle. Their cabals are tightly watched. Ther is no reason to worry.”, he asserted patronizingly.

  What if that’s what they want you to think? Why do I still remember him? Did he leave that on purpose?

  Aaron blinked hard. Could’ve been a fucking elephant in a pink dress and I wouldn’t know the difference.

  Aaron shook his head and went over the encounter in his mind. Three times.

  Try as I might, it all seems consistent. Is there no way to defend against this?

  “Forget I said anything.” He fell silent, thinking. He studiously ignored the confused glances from the others. Do they wonder if the tentacled god got to me already?

  “How does one defend against mind magic?” he asked instead. Might as well let Theon explain. Maybe there's a defense.

  “You just develop a mind shield. It’s a basic technique—even children can use it to defend themselves.” He paused, stroking his chin. No way he isn’t doing that deliberately.

  Rhea’s eye roll confirmed it. They’re a great pair—quite funny and competent. Aaron saw men with crushed windpipes sufficating before his inner eye. And they’re hellishly dangerous and brutal.

  Is shielding your mind really that easy? Aaron tried to focus on… something. A solid sphere around my thoughts. Nothing happened. Probably just needs practice. Right?

  They must know I don’t have one. So either they plan to exploit this, or it’s not something you casually learn.

  “You can also infuse the shield into an item,” Theon added. “Give it more of a physical presence. Usually a scarf or cloak.” Ah, so they have magical items. At least I haven’t been given a legendary sword. Not yet, at least. Things might get weird… well, weirder.

  “I assume the jewelry Helea wore was also magical? And how did you learn mind shielding?” Aaron threw the last question in casually.

  “Yes, they enhanced her perception. Not sure if she had a mind defense item. Mind mages are rare. Only Syntathmancers—the creatures of constructs—are rarer.”

  For once, Rhea was listening with interest. She probably cares about the danger of that attack vector. Who wouldn’t? They’ve been messed with and can’t even recall it.

  A chill traced his spine. They were mind-wiped, and I’m the only one who knows.

  “I had to meditate until I could maintain the thoughtless void for a tenth-cycle. Then I learned to build a mental magnetic field around me. It took me several weeks,” Theon admitted the last part quietly. Fuck! I sure hope I don’t need that long.

  Though… the mage has penetrated his shield without effort. Not every enemy can be fought. Sometimes, hoping and focusing on what can be changed is your best bet.

  Rhea raised her flattened hand above her head. Theon froze and scanned the surroundings. Rhea tapped her nose, then touched her left breast and lowered her hand in a waving motion. What is happening? Fuck.

  Both of them brought their spears into a combat stance. Aaron followed their example. Tactical signs, I guess. Freeze, I smell something… No clue about the last one. Probably about the danger we face.

  Theon’s grip on his spear tightened. Not good.

  Theon nodded sharply. His body language was clear—they weren’t moving until they knew what they were dealing with.

  Aaron adjusted his grip on the spear. No clue what that last signal meant, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out this was bad.

  Theon stepped back to Aaron. “Watch our backs. Blood is in the air.” They advanced slowly, spears ready. No words. No mistakes. What the hell is it? A beast? More raiders? No time to think—just react.

  Aaron nodded and scanned the surroundings. Run? Maybe. But Rhea can fight. Probably safer to know what we’re up against.

  The acacias rustled in the evening wind, masking their footsteps. Or anyone else's. A short while later, Aaron caught the coppery tang of blood as well. Not this again. Another corpse pile. Lovely. Should we start taking bets on how big the next one will be? The next ones.

  He shook himself. Rhea shot him a disapproving look as they reached the edge of a ravine. The stench of blood mixed with bile and feces.

  Two young adults and five adults lay dead below them.

  The young adults had been killed with excessive force. The men had cleaner wounds.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The teenagers had no heads. Wide red puddles spread out in their place. The blood still looked fresh, shiny under the fading light. Aaron swallowed hard. Is that how I will end up?

  Rhea pointed at both of them, then brought her fist down beside her body. What?

  She moved to go forward. Ah. You two, stay here.

  She dropped down silently. After inspecting the corpses with rough kicks, she gathered two sharp stones and a few spears. Cold.

  She wasn’t performing any ritual—just assessing and looting. Aaron pressed his lips into a thin line.

  “Lucky,” she said, stepping over a corpse. “Fresh supplies.” Then she presented her loot. She doesn’t seem to care. At all. What have I gotten myself into?

  Rhea and Theon turned and moved on, maintaining silent vigilance. Aaron looked over the bodies strewn across the ravine. There was nothing he could do.

  The stench clung to the air, thick with accusation. “May you rest in peace.” I havn’t considered last rites before. Does that make me a bad person?

  One last glance. Then he followed. In the redding light, they marched deeper into the forrest.

  Rhea checked several ravines. Always moving on, until one met her approval. Unlike the others, tall plants grew here.

  Silently, they continued until they reached an oak-like tree. Its roots had collapsed into the ravine, the trunk lying fallen across it.

  Rhea signaled them to stop. Once again, she dropped down into the ravine, spear at the ready. She picked up a small rock and tossed it into the alcove.

  They waited. No angry mountain lion jumped out to contest their real estate claim.

  Still, she advanced in a perfect stance. Seeing it felt… warm. Right. That’s the skill guide, I guess. Interesting.

  Reaching the cave, she prodded about with her spear. Theon scanned the surroundings, standing guard. I ought to be doing that as well. Too late now.

  He watched as Rhea crawled behind the tilted root cluster—and disappeared. A moment later, she reappeared and beckoned them forward. “Xandros, will you take the middle watch? It’s likely the safest,” she asked and flinched slighlty.

  Aaron nodded and miled. “Don’t worry.” I’m tired. But not as tired as I should be after a day of trekking through rough terrain.

  Theon sat down by the cave entrance, grabbed a spear and a sharp stone, and started working the tip. Rhea motioned Aaron inside. It was a small, root-filled hovel. Beyond a single step in, it was pitch black.

  Aaron moved forward carefully. The cave air was stale, earthy. The sand under his hands felt almost too soft—like something had burrowed here before.

  He lay down carefully. A hand grabbed his foot. “Head toward the entrance. How will you get out if something happens?” she whispered.

  There was no unkindness in her voice. Even though I’m acting like a bloody recruit. Hopefully just a recruit—not a bloody one.

  Aaron bedded down in the sand, trying to leave space for Rhea. The cave was oddly comforting. Safe. Soft. He turned toward the wall.

  She crawled in—and hugged him. Pressed herself into his back. Aaron froze. “How else do you think we keep warm at night?” she giggled. “Any warrior would sleep like this in the wilderness.”

  Yeah. Like any true warrior, I’m lying in a cave, cuddling with a girl. Sharing body heat makes sense, though. Just a case of different cultural norms.

  Aaron’s stomach growled. Earlier, they had stopped at a small creek. He wasn’t thirsty. But the others had only found a few fibrous roots, which took ages to chew down—probably burned more calories than they provided. Camping in a magic world should be so much more comfortable.

  He slowly drifted off to sleep.

  A swamp of blood. Floating heads. A man in green robes laughing above him. Aaron tried to move—his feet were stuck in something thick, something warm—

  A hand clamped over his mouth. “Time for your guard.” What the hell? Why is everything dark? Where i s the blood? Who am I cuddling with?

  Aaron reached for the light switch. The hand shook his head. “Everything is fine. No need to worry. You’re here with me and Rhea,” Theon’s voice reassured him . Oh yeah. The two I’ve committed multiple homicides with. In that case, everything is great.

  Aaron untangled himself from Rhea. She stirred, clasped Theon’s arm for a second, then drifted back to sleep. He extricated himself from the cave, stepping on Rhea a few times in the process. She growled but didn’t wake.

  Pale moonlight filtered through the canopy, enough to see Theon’s amused smile. “I guess your world doesn’t do things like this?” he whispered.

  “We actually do. But only soldiers,” Aaron answered.

  “Were you a soldier, then?” Aaron sat down next to him.

  “Only for a short while. You were raised as a warrior, right?” A breeze rustled through the forest, making the pale shadows dance ominously.

  “From the day I was born. ”They sat in silence for a while, watching the shadows shift.

  "Today was the first time I killed someone." A long silence settled between them.

  "We killed disobedient slaves with spears when we were seven." Theon looked at Aaron.

  What can I even say to that? I've never tried to understand the headspace of child soldiers.

  Theon continued after the silence had stretch on for too long. "It's called the blooding ceremony. I was honored to be in the first group." Theon shook his head, his expression solemn. Is there a glimmer beneath his eyes? I can't tell. Back home, even the most hardened military forces don’t make seven-year-olds kill.

  "Sharpen the spears. It'll keep you awake. Wake us at any sign of mischief. Do not hesitate." Then he disappeared into the cave. Aaron sat alone in the dark. Cold pressed in. Strange cries echoed in the distance. Shadows twisted.

  I should feel something. Overwhelmed? Traumatized? Both.

  He took stock. I expected an ordinary life—science, therapy, family. Instead, I am a chosen one in a world ruled by eldritch gods. Is this another universe? A simulation? Does it even matter?

  His mind dissected, distant, detached. How many more kills before I stop counting? Fiction loves warriors who revel in battle. Power fantasies. Psychopaths.

  Killing those two men— it was horrible. Aaron sat in silence. The strange animal songs had stopped and only the wind in the trees remained.

  The adrenaline rush. The aftermath. It had felt amazing. Until I stopped to think. Slowly, Aaron began carving the point of a spear.

  The trees rustled. ‘It feels good’ is a horrible way to live your life. Hedonism of the worst kind. I won’t go down that road. I know most people just follow the group. Good and evil are just a matter of the mob’s mood. I will not fall for that.

  Aaron heard low muttering.

  Footsteps. Approaching the trunk. His breath caught in his throat. Fuck. Here we go again.

  He sat up. Slowly. Deliberately. Snuck to the cave.

  Put his hand over Rhea’s mouth. Her eyes opened. I shouldn’t talk. Maybe I can sign something.

  He raised his flat hand over his head. Freeze.

  Held his hand behind his ear. Listen.

  Moved his fingers in a walking motion. People.

  Pointed toward the noise. She nodded and woke Theon with a hand over his mouth.

  Someone jumped onto the tree trunk above them. Like a cat, Rhea sprang to her feet, motioning Aaron back. He obliged. I have to get out of the way. Be ready to back them up if this turns bloody.

  He moved into the chilly night air, into the shadow of the overhang. The sand shifted under his feet. His back foot lowered.

  Aaron felt resistance. A fucking twig. I’ll kill people because of a fucking twig.

  A split second passed. Then—

  His momentum shifted. The twig splintered with a crack. The sound was deafening in the quiet night.

  Both he and Rhea froze. Aaron’s heart pounded, panic creeping in.

  Another person landed on the trunk. Each step on the wood fell like hammers in the nightas they kept walking. The first one rustled through the fallen canopy.

  Aaron relaxed slightly. This hasn’t escalated. Good.

  Then, the second person stopped. Looked around. Keep moving, you dumb bastard. Move. Now.

  The last person spoke above them. “There may be a cave under the roots.” Oh well. Fighting it is.

  The trio pressed themselves into the shadows of the trunk and overhang, spears at the ready. Aaron’s heart pounded louder than the footsteps above, but the others seemed calm.

  The man stood outlined against the pale moonlight, holding a large cudgel. “Stop weaving a knot. We need to catch up to the bastards,” another voice spoke, annoyed.

  The second man tensed, ready to jump. Rhea readied herself—ready to spear him through the gut as he fell. Not again. No. I won’t become that callous. I won’t kill someone just because it’s convenient. This will be my fault.

  But what can I do? I need to give him something. Something more interesting than us.

  The solution was suddenly obvious. Aaron's fingers scraped through the dirt, panic rising.

  Then—something hard.

  A rock.

  Yes.

  He raised his arms. The men hesitated, poised to jump down.

  Now. He hurled the rock over the trunk. As the man bent his knees to jump, the rock crashed through the undergrowth. He spun around, falling into a combat stance.

  Fearful exclamations erupted from the group. Within moments, their leader reestablished order. The men jumped down—on the other side.

  Rhea’s eyes glimmered in the ghostly light. Approval, maybe. Or something sharper.

  They remained in place, still as shadows. The men beat through the bushes behind the trunk. Slowly, their noises faded into the night.

  Theon retreated into the cave. Rhea shoved Aaron in behind him.

  He made to speak. She put a finger to his lips. Shook her head with a smile. Then she motioned him to sleep. Guess she will take over guard duty now.

  Aaron curled up beside Theon, his body trembling slightly. Sweat slicked his skin. That was too close.

  They probably would have won a fight. But would we have been able to go back to sleep? Next to three fresh corpses?

  Mental and physical exhaustion overtook him. The encounter feels like a bad dream. The entire thing fels like one.

  He drifted into uneasy sleep, the image of blood-slick roots and whispering minds pressing in with the dark.

  +++ Shout-Out Time +++

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  What do you think of Aaron's decisions? Would you have done the same?

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