Only Villains Do That

We could afford neither to waste time nor charge in blind, that was the dilemma.

Step one was to send out the gwynnek riders, loaded down with as many healing slimes as we had containers for, to both distribute those among my people encamped in the forest and carry out a damage assessment. I designated one of the mobile camps closer to Gwyllthean as a meeting point toward which I would head directly with a small support team, just enough people to carry relief supplies to replace what had probably been burned up. For this I picked the spot most equidistant between North Watch and all the other patrol areas into which my expanded territory was divided up, so that by the time we got there on foot, the much faster riders would have been able to regroup there with word on where my healing magic was most urgently needed. Based on their reports I could draw up a plan for how to proceed next.

I set out within minutes of dealing with the catfolk, leaving Minifrit in charge and North Watch on a heightened level of security, because while our immediate threats had just been dealt with this was clearly no time to get lax. Given the distance to the rendezvous point I selected, that gave me hours—the whole rest of the night, basically—to do exactly the one thing I most needed and least wanted to do:

Think.

I found no answers. Really, all I managed to do was keep going in circles inside my head.

The dead haunted me, of course. Vivid memories of Kastrin tended to flash across my vision whenever I closed my eyes, either lying there or in that horrific instant when the arrow took her. I really hoped that wasn’t going to become flashback material, because the last thing I needed was new and even worse subject matter for those. So far…probably not? They weren’t flashbacks, nothing so overpowering or acute, just…really intrusive and ugly normal memories.

I definitely spent time dwelling on the people I’d failed and gotten killed tonight, but oddly enough the thing that kept rising up to occupy my mind was Sakin. It’s a weird feeling, when someone you’re connected to but don’t really like dies; it was hard to sort out what I felt, and what I should feel. Being honest with myself, though, I was most hung up on the arbitrary nature of it. Maybe I’d blown Sakin up a little too much in my mind. After all, we’re all just shambling piles of meat, and death is random and comes blindly out of the sky for lots of people. Still… It was Sakin. That wasn’t how he was meant to go out. It wasn’t…part of the story.

Except this wasn’t a story, and I think the dreadful uncertainty that was now clawing at me was mostly that if something like that could happen to Sakin, why not to anyone? It wouldn’t be that exact thing for me or Aster, since we were both wearing artifacts that prevented instant-kill shots—up to a point. But no artifact was perfect, life was terrifyingly unpredictable, and we were up against some of the greatest powers in this world, or soon would be.

Which was the other thing weighing down on me. The immediate future was even grimmer than the immediate past.

There was obviously a significance to what I’d done that went beyond the immediate, physical effects of burning down the entire forest. It was the first grand, world-altering action of the Dark Lord; that was meaningful in the goddesses’ system in a way that had unlocked a special Wisdom perk, which meant it would definitely be noticed from far beyond Dount. While we walked, I quietly asked Biribo about this.

“That’s not common, boss,” he hedged. “And keep in mind that oracular powers of any kind are always vague. Not much fun for the goddesses if anybody else can see too far along the game board. But…yeah, there are things that register events like that. Rare things, but there are a handful of Spirits and Wisdom perks that probably noticed you. What you don’t have to worry about is any of ‘em finding your location physically based on it, that’s exactly the kinda detail that’s consistently blocked to such perceptions.”

Which did me no fucking good at all, if those “rare things” pinged at the exact moment the entire island of Dount went up in flames.

Not to mention that them being rare was a mixed blessing at best: those were exactly the kind of assets that would be under the control of the most powerful factions in this world. The specific people who would have vast resources and would immediately throw them at the Dark Lord as soon as one popped up.

There was also the issue of Immolate being a one-of-a-kind spell, which a lot of people on Dount had seen used by the Healer. This was further complicated by the fact that enough people now knew or at least strongly suspected the Healer and Lord Seiji were the same person that that secret was on its way out; I’d already stopped relying on it. Seeing my signature spell used on khora might not immediately be familiar even to someone who’d seen it done to people, and in any case all of this would be obfuscated by the fact that all such information took the form of rumor, and rumors distorted as much as they retained. Still, at least some people would put it together, and few of those would be motivated to keep it to themselves. All the work I’d done of building public support for the Healer by cleaning the canals and giving out healing slimes had likely just gone up in smoke.

And when the powers that be started sending their agents to Dount, there was a big, easily followed trail pointing right to me.

I was fucked.

Biribo, Aster, and…Sakin…had all been in agreement that I wasn’t yet capable of throwing down with the best of the King’s Guild, even here on Dount; that Rhydion was way out of my league and any team of the Guild’s best was likely more than I could handle. My forces amounted to about a hundred and fifty bandits armed with crossbows and goblin alchemy; my fortress didn’t even have a gate that closed. We weren’t capable of tangling even with the combined Clansguards of Dount. If they brought over a full Kingsguard army from the mainland they’d steamroll us, never mind what the forces of Lancor could do.

So…fucked.

In the whole night’s travel, I failed to come up with anything to counter the kinds of powers I would very shortly have to contend with. There was just nothing within my own power that could fix this. I was unready; I’d been counting on having time to build a power base and gather more artifacts and spells. My best reckoning had been that I’d need at least a few years to gather enough strength to start conquering openly. The best I could hope for was to be found by Viryan powers who would be looking for me as well after this night’s work, and the only one close by was Shylverrael—which was both too small to do more than defend itself, and likely pissed at me right now considering I had just torched their own outer defenses and consorted with one of their exiles.

So very, very fucked.

I preferred to think about the dead.

Dawn was breaking as we linked up with the team whose turf we’d headed toward; they were understandably skittish after the night they’d had, but gave the correct counter-signal to our birdcalls after a couple of repetitions. To my great relief, everyone was alive and relatively healthy. They’d been camped inside a large, dead khora shell, and thus had seen the entire forest burn around them but not felt the flames directly.

I hadn’t slept since about this time yesterday, nor had most of those with me. We huddled up in the shell ourselves while the gang kept watch, managing to get a little rest during the hour it took for the gwynnek riders to converge on this site. Nazralind was one of the first back, and she gave the order not to disturb me until her whole crew had checked in and she had a full report for me, which bought me two more hours of nap. That was not the call I would have made and I’m pretty sure she knew it, but I couldn’t find it in me to castigate her, especially since she’d brought me good news.

“Turns out burns respond really well to healing slimes. You know how they kind of sting even as they’re healing you?”

“Right, because they’re still slimes,” I said. “Magic aside, they’re trying to digest anything organic they’re sitting on.”

“Yeah, exactly. Apparently that really smooths out skin and tissue while the magic works. It takes a lot longer than your Heal spell, but the people who’ve used the slimes on burns don’t even have scars. Great stuff. We do still have some people in multiple different groups who’ll need better healing, though. The slimes don’t do as well with broken bones or deep tissue damage, stuff like that. They’re keeping people stable for now, but the ones in a bad way are the one who fell out of khora that caught fire or had run-ins with shellbacks or other animals that were trying to flee the conflagration. I’ve got everybody’s reports; gimme five minutes and I’ll have a collated list for you, Lord Seiji.”

“Thanks, Naz.” I took in a deep breath, steeling myself. “And…how many did we lose?”

Nazralind shook her head, smiling. “Nobody.”

“No—um, by ‘lose,’ I meant—”

“I understood what you meant, Lord Seiji. We’ve got injuries that still need your special touch, but no fatalities. It’s stable out there, now that everybody’s got extra slimes and knows things are under control, and that you’re on the way to finish up. Injuries aside, I think the uncertainty was what was really getting to people. No, the biggest losses were supplies. Every group lost quite a bit. I’ve got reports on that, too, for each gang.”

I was barely managing to listen to her, suddenly lightheaded. No fatalities? None?

“We…didn’t lose anyone else?” I asked. There was a faint tremor in my voice that I didn’t like, but in that moment I couldn’t manage to be upset about it. I was stuck in a weird combination of numbness and elation.

Nazralind smiled again. “That’s right, Lord Seiji. I was worried, too, but in hindsight it makes sense. Khora shells don’t burn, the fire was just vented through the apertures where the fronds come out, and nobody was up in the fronds because…well, why would they be? Since it hit at night, most people were camped, which meant they placed themselves in open areas. The only ones who were actually up in khora themselves were keeping watch, so there were some bad falls. But the fire didn’t crack most of the shells so everybody had time to get away from the khora, even the ones who were asleep. Quite a few people were singed, just because there aren’t a lot of khora-free places to go in the forest, but nobody got cooked. Really, that could only have happened if someone was caught in a really unlucky position.”

Her face had gone blurry for some reason. I rubbed distractedly at my eyes, fully preoccupied with what she’d just said.

I hadn’t killed any of my own people. Not directly, at least. It was…

“Th-thanks, Naz, I…” Why was my voice so rough? I rubbed at my eyes again to clear them. “Okay, w-we need to…I’ll…”

The lump rising in my throat choked me off, and now my legs were tottering.

Come on, what the hell was this? I desperately fought to get myself back under control. Where was the sinister Dark Lord, all ruthless and in command, who’d sent the catfolk packing just a few hours ago? It was because I’d just awakened, that had to be it. Nothing good happened when I took a break. Getting a proper showtime going required some advance notice. I needed to work on my improv.

“I’m fine, sorry,” I muttered thickly, scrubbing at my face with a sleeve. “It’s just…adrenaline, y’know. And fatigue.” Aster had stepped over and placed a steadying hand against my back, doubtless noticing my suddenly tottering legs. How humiliating.

“Lord Seiji.” Nazralind had taken a step closer, still wearing that small but warm smile. “Feel free to slap me if I overstep, but the thing I’ve noticed about men, and especially powerful men, is this idea that showing emotion reveals weakness. Not to drag up a sore point, but after last night, the one thing no one will ever call you is weak.”

Off to my left, a man cleared his throat. Auron was with the group I’d brought from North Watch; he’d turned out to be a very good acquisition for the team, level-headed and always willing to pitch in. And to speak his mind, apparently.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Lord Seiji, but she’s quite right. Everybody signed up knowing there was gonna be some major destruction, working for the Dark Lord. But, eh… In all the stories, there’s always, y’know, the guy who brings the Dark Lord bad news and gets thrown off a tower for it. It, ah… It means a lot to know you care so much about us. Seriously, that makes all the difference.”

Ugh, when did this turn into such a fucking hugbox? I took a final swipe at my left eye with the heel of my palm, and cleared my throat.

“Right, well. Thanks. Okay, let’s not waste any more time. Naz, how tired are your riders?”

She tilted her head briefly to one side in that little suggestion of a shrug she often did, and looked over at the nearby gwynnek riders. “It’s not ideal, Lord Seiji. We’ve been going fast and hard all night, on no sleep.”

“That’s about what I figured. I’m sorry, ladies, but I’m going to have to ask you to push it. Not too far, though. I want you all to take a break here, rest up until…noon. Sorry that’s not much time, but it’s a mess out there and we’re all going to have to push hard over the next few days. Once you’ve caught a nap, I need you to scout and find out the situation in the villages. Start with those closest to the khora, they’ll be hardest hit. Bring your reports to the northern camp up near the waystation and I’ll rendezvous with you there once I’ve helped all of our people. You’ll be moving much faster than I can so you should have more time to rest up once you’re there. Naz, I leave it to you to organize a search pattern.”

“Hai!” I was too tired even to have feelings about that. Or maybe I was just used to it already.

“Lady Ismreth,” I continued, turning to her.

“It’s pronounced Ismreth, Lord Seiji.”

I inhaled an entire lungful of air through my nose. Very slowly.

“But maybe that’s not important right now,” she added in a casual tone. “You know, some people call me Izzy.”

“I have a different job for you. I need you to carry the collected reports of every group’s lost supplies back to North Watch and turn it over to Minifrit; tell her I want her to organize replacements and send them out with foot teams. It’ll take a few days to reach everyone, but we’ll be distributing what we brought as we go so nobody should starve. Then stay at the fortress and rest up; I want you posted there in case Minifrit needs to get a message to me.”

“Hai!” she said crisply, bending down from her saddle to accept the sheaf of papers Nazralind handed up.

“I appreciate all your hard work, everyone,” I said to the group at large. “I’m sorry to keep asking more of you when all this is my fault, not yours. But the fact is, people out there need help—not just our people, but everyone on this island. And we all know their leaders aren’t going to do anything for them. It comes down to us.”

To my honest surprise, nobody looked resentful; everyone just nodded, faces resolute. I nodded back.

“Let’s get to work.”

So that was how my week went. That was about how long it usually took to do the complete circuit of the khora, and stopping at each encampment to administer healing, reassurance, and emergency supplies wasn’t much faster than taking over the gangs in the first place had been. A little bit faster, since we were pushing hard on the march between them, so in the end I got to everybody within five days. A couple of spots only needed some additional food to keep going—apparently a lot of the crawns had fled the fire so scavenging wasn’t as reliable as it should be—and in the end there were only a few individuals with lingering wounds that needed my powerful magic to sort out. Even those were kept stable and in not too much pain by the healing slimes until I could get there. Ultimately we made the full rounds in just five days, at which point I had to call a halt for an uninterrupted night’s sleep, or we were going to start collapsing.

I kept waiting for it, but nobody threw any recrimination at me. In fact, all my people were glad to see me, and grateful for the help. I put on a good face for them, since group morale was my responsibility, but the guilt was starting to hollow out my insides.

There was good news, though. As we linked up with every group and got the news, I learned that my initial impression standing atop North Watch and looking out over the sea of fire had been exaggerated. It had sure looked like the whole world was burning from there, but as it happened that tangle hadn’t been connected to every khora on the island. Gathering reports from each of my gangs, I gradually put together a mental map of how far the flames had spread, and as made sense in hindsight, the farther they radiated out from deep in the western forest, the more gaps there were. One group had seen khora blazing in the near distance to either side while none around them had gone up.

They showed me the effects of the damage, dampening my relief somewhat. The khora I had burned were vibrantly healthy now, in a way they hadn’t been before, thanks to Immolate’s healing effect. Those unfortunate enough to be standing close to them had been seared by the fire and were missing fronds, with blackened shells.

It was in the aftereffects that the worst results showed. Every camp had been briefly overrun by animals trying to get away from the fire; those had caused the worst of the injuries among my people. It seemed we had only been spared such a stampede at North Watch because bigger fauna had already cleared out of the area due to the presence of so many humans and catfolk. Crawns were just beginning to trickle back into their habitats; bushes, vines, and other flora that lived in and around the khora had been devastated. I knew from forest fires back home that they, too, would come back healthier than before, but that would be the result of months, not minutes. With winter coming on soon, it was likely to be spring before Dount got to experience the new undergrowth benefiting from ash-nourished soil and cleared space in which to prosper.

By the time we reached the end of our circuit, the last gangs had already received their full resupply from North Watch, thanks to Minifrit’s efficiency. Furthermore, at that point the riders had completed their rounds, had a chance to rest up, and it had been long enough that Nazralind sent someone to track me down and check in. That saved some time, as it spared me having to backtrack all the way up north to the rendezvous. Instead, she was able to brief me on the situation in the surrounding villages, and meet up with me at the first one I decided to visit.

There, the news was even more surprising.

“Miracles?”

“Oh, aye, it’s not just on Dount,” the village headman assured me with an amiable grin, nodding. “From the sounds of it, ours was a wee bit rougher than most places got it, but I reckon that’s as close to special as this island’ll ever get. Have you really not heard, Lord Healer?”

“I’ve been in the forest since the…Inferno,” I explained, using the term that had apparently sprung up and stuck for my disastrous mistake. It made me cringe, not least because it was pretty accurate. “There are people living out there; they were in the most urgent need of help.”

“Whoof, I’ll bet,” he agreed, wincing. “Wait, does…this mean you really haven’t heard?”

“About…miracles?” I shook my cowled head, grateful my Healer costume concealed my expression. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

I was standing in conversation with Aster, Nazralind, and four of the senior members of the village. All four immediately swelled up as they inhaled, grinning with the anticipation of veteran gossips about to break a juicy piece of news to a fresh audience.

Nobody had been burned in the village of Wychlod; the main trouble they’d been having was with aggressive shellbacks displaced from their homes by the fire, which seemed reluctant to go back into the khora now that they’d discovered there were scarcely-defended storehouses and livestock just sitting out here. People had been injured in repeated scuffles with animals that ranged in size from housecats to wolves—most armored, and many venomous. Infections and lingering symptoms of poison were the bulk of what I’d had to heal, as well as several nasty bite wounds.

Oh, and actual wolves, too. Just as on Earth, those shied away from people, but they were playing absolute hell with the livestock. I’d also healed a dozen sheep, cows, and dhawls, as well as some surprisingly heroic farm defenders: a donkey and three particularly brave geese, who had been furiously repelling invaders from their territory. It amused me that even alien combat armadillos were learning not to fuck with geese.

The local lord was, of course, useless. There was allegedly a party coming from the King’s Guild to clear out local wildlife, either to kill them off or drive them back into the forest, and that only because someone in the Guild was from this village and had pulled strings. Even that was taking a while to appear because the King’s Guild was doing this in multiple places right now and had only so many warm bodies to throw around.

“Turns out the Inferno was only one such,” the headman said, getting to speak first only out of rank; the other elders were still practically vibrating with anticipation. “It’s only been a week, mind, so a good half of what we’ve heard is just rumor, and that much only because everybody who matters is passing word on this as far and wide as they can. But aye, signs from the Goddesses occurred all over the world that night!”

“Both Goddesses,” added Mother Agit, who appeared to occupy some kind of wise woman status in the village which I didn’t know enough about Fflyr culture to understand. “Very explicit signs from Sanora and the Dark Sister, both.”

“Only two I’ve heard of with any certainty—aside from the Inferno, I mean—and that cos they were both from the lands closest to Dlemathlys.” Headman Rouor was quick to regain the floor when she paused for breath. “Up in Godspire there were lights in the sky, and a choir of voices from the heavens proclaiming that a new Hero has come to Ephemera! And then down in Eliphrell, whole fields of crops had great signs burned into them, patterns making the holy symbols of both Sanora and Virya.”

“Where is Ellif… Uh, that place?”

“Oh, that’s Eliphrell Province in the Empire,” chimed in a third man who hadn’t actually been introduced to me. “Northernmost part of Lancor. The landbridge from Dlemathlys links to it.”

“There’s a lot more than that!” added old Cwydder, the oldest man in the village, thumping his walking stick against the ground for emphasis. “My grandson is a Convocation priest, you know, and he’s sent me three letters in the last week! The Convocation’s got means of getting information that us common folk don’t. Wydnar’s not ranked high enough to learn important secrets, not yet, but even he can tell that all the talk among the Convocation right now is of signs and portents the world over. And not just them, they’re in contact with the Radiant Temple. The Empire’s stirred up about this too!”

“I’ve heard stories from beyond Godspire, even,” Agit said smugly. “In Vairoth a huge monument appeared, a black obelisk glowing with Virya’s symbols. And in the capital of Savindar, a great army of spirits rushed through the streets, shouting that they were off to join the Dark Crusade!”

“You old squawk, how would you know anything from Viryan lands?” Cwydder scoffed.

Mother Agit aimed a kick at his walking stick. “I’m younger’n you by a decade, you heap of bones and leather! And I have my ways!”

“Right, but there are also more credible rumors from Lancor and beyond,” said Rouor, the headman clearly trying to steer this back on track. “To be sure, rumors exaggerate. We likely won’t know the reality for quite some time. But the fact there are rumors points to a truth, see? It’s coming from all parts of the archipelago.”

“Signs and portents,” Cwyddar said gravely, nodding and again thumping his stick on the ground. “We here on Dount got only one of many. There’s no denying it: the Champions have been called. A Hero walks among us.”

“Well, not among us,” added the other fellow, grinning. “I’d not expect to see a Hero on Dount, of all places. It’s surprising enough Dount warranted a miracle, you ask me.”

“The fire was off in the west, see?” Mother Agit retorted. “Like as not, it was a message from the Dark Sister, meant to get the attention of the dark elves, not honest folk like us. You mark my words, we’ll have trouble with those dark elves by next year’s end.”

I decided to deflect this conversation away from the idea that there might be a Dark Lord on Dount. “Thank you for the information. Do you know how the other villages and farms have fared, in the aftermath of the Inferno?”

“Aye, we’ve had word,” said the headman, grimacing. “It’s much the same as here, Lord Healer. Few enough build close to the khora; that’s not easy turf for honest farmers and tradesmen. Not many got hurt by the actual fire. It really upset the animals, though, and the whole island’s in upheaval. It was dangerous less because of the burning and more due to the effects that burning had on the land. We’re not like to see the end of it for…well, years to come, being realistic.”

“If you’ve a mind to go help further, head north or south,” Mother Agit agreed. “It’s closest to the great western forest that folk are having trouble. Whatever caused the Inferno didn’t affect every khora; it must’ve started in one of those big tangles in the deep forest. Some of the plantations went up, and some of the outlying stands of khora, but less and less the farther you go from the forest. Whole eastern half of the island barely saw a spark, and I doubt the shellbacks will’ve gone that far. Whole thing’s little but a curiosity to folk over there,” she added with a sour little twist of her mouth.

I let them chatter on while I collected myself. I was almost dizzy with relief. Both because it seemed I had caused much less devastation than I’d initially thought, and because this business of “signs and portents” meant the entire world’s attention was in fact not going to be laser focused on Dount.

I was…maybe…not fucked? Less immediately fucked, at any rate. That’d do for a start.

Though it raised additional questions that became more and more ominous the more I thought about them.

“Then I still have a long way to go,” I said, inclining my hooded head to them. “Thank you for the information.”

“Ah…aye, yes, if you’re out to heal folk we oughtn’t keep you,” Rouor agreed. “But at least let us send you off with something for your trouble!”

Disengaging from the villagers took some doing, as did refusing the gifts of food and supplies they tried to press on me. I couldn’t admit it to them, but there was no possible way I could accept anything from their stocks, not when I had been the cause of a disaster that was likely to make those supplies run thin during the coming winter. It was a few more minutes before we were back among the khora, moving north toward the next village Nazralind had identified as a spot in need of aid. Once we were a safe enough distance, the rest of my gang came melting out of the shadows to rejoin the three of us.

“Biribo,” I said as Aster fell back a few steps to catch the team up on what we’d learned.

My familiar buzzed out of his comfy nest in Aster’s coat pocket, coming to hover alongside me as usual. “Boss, I think I know what you’re gonna say.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you do. Why didn’t you tell me that causing a sign of the Dark Lord’s presence would trigger…ugh, signs and portents all over the world? Do you know how worried I’ve been about this?”

“Because it doesn’t!” He began zooming around me in circles in his agitation. “Boss, that’s not a thing! Or at least…it never has been before. No previous Dark Crusade has been heralded by…anything like this!”

Oh, that wasn’t good.

“Any idea why the goddesses would suddenly change how they do things?” I asked, hopefully.

“Boss, I really don’t think it was them. The most obvious effect of this is to deflect attention away from Dount, which only benefits you—and by extension, Virya. Neither of them could pull off something like this without the other’s cooperation, or at the very least awareness, and Sanora wouldn’t sign on for you evading the consequences of screwing yourself over. This is…something else.”

Fuck. I was still relieved, of course, but now I had something new to be worried about. There was another player involved, one who had eyes closely enough on me to know exactly when to trigger a massive worldwide distraction. And one who was capable of feats on such an enormous scale. I could think of only only one faction that could be, and with friends like those, I didn’t need enemies.

“Biribo…can devils disguise themselves as people? In a way that would fool even your senses, in the long term?”

He settled down into his normal holding pattern next to my shoulder. “Uh, well, boss… The awkward fact is there’s almost no way to predict what devils can do. They use Void magic, which works entirely outside the system. I will say it’d take a really powerful devil to pull that off over the long term. Boss, you’re not thinking the Devil King is responsible for this, are you? Cos that’d be pretty out of character for him, too. He likes to play the long, slow, careful game.”

“I can’t think of anyone else it could be, though. And I had a wild conspiracy theory just pop into my head. It was Sakin who told me about the Void and the Devil King…”

“Oh, did he, now,” Biribo huffed. “I was wondering about that.”

“Hang on,” Nazralind interjected. “You’re not… Are you suggesting Sakin was secretly a devil? That he didn’t die, he just left, and arranged a cover story for us?”

I shrugged. “It sounds pretty stupid when you say it out loud that way.”

“I am really glad you understand that, Lord Seiji,” Aster said from behind me.

I drew in a deep, steadying breath and let it out in a long sigh. “Well, whatever the fuck is going on, we have clearly not heard the last of this. It’s a reprieve, though. We’re not as immediately under threat, which means we should hopefully have time to make preparations before this fresh insanity comes home to roost. C’mon, folks, let’s pick up the pace. We’ve got a lot more people to help before we get down to covering our own asses.”