Blight

Rhyannon traveled a short distance from where her companions had taken shelter. She finds no signs of life, the absence of birds or even insects chirping served to make her uneasiness grow. Even in her ghost town of a village, she could still hear the incessant chirping of cicadas and crickets and the gentle songs of birds in the morning. This village was completely barren. Even the ransacked houses were stripped clean of any sign of passing life.

She reached the outskirts of the village. A faint humming was heard in the distance. The sound was so foreign it nearly made her jump after being in silence for so long. The closer she came to the humming a thick, putrid smell greeted her; a smell she had become all too familiar with. As she stood on the edge of the slope the anxiety she felt spread outwards to the tips of her limbs. Her legs moved before her mind did, forcing her body to turn, ripping her gaze away, and sprinting back to the house.

~

Frewin and Gareth had set about gathering sticks to start a small fire as Ambrosine busied herself with preparing their rations for breakfast. Gareth dropped the small bundle he had gathered and frowned at the sticks.

"We might be out of luck with a fire. The wood is all too wet." He tossed the stick off to the side of the house, "luckily we still have some cured meats. That should provide a good enough breakfast until we reach Penbel."

"Hopefully it won't take us too long to reach the village. After our incident with the unicorn, most of our supplies were damaged. We don't have much left." Ambrosine peeked around the broken window, elbows resting on the empty sill as she spoke.

Gareth opened his mouth to speak but the sound of approaching footsteps cut him off, causing him to turn toward the sound. Rhyannon was running out of the woods, nearly tripping over the wayward roots. She was huffing loudly, her cheeks a bright pink despite the rest of her being pallor. Gareth stepped forward to grab her shoulders, steadying her before she tripped once more and giving her a chance to catch her breath.

"Are you okay? Did something happen?" though his voice remained calm and even, Gareth examined her face, searching for the answer before she told him, worry visible in his eye.

"We have...we have...to leave. Immediately." it took her several gulps of air to force the words out. She tried pushing past him to go gather up her belongings but Gareth held her still, blocking her path.

"What are you talking about?"

"We have to go. Now," she said more forcefully, shoving him back. Gareth relented and released her.

She made her way into the small house and shoved whatever she could into bags and pushed them into the man's arms. Ambrosine remained at the window, a small smile on her face as she watched the other woman work. She moved only when Rhyannon had finished packing. Ambrosine reached an arm out to tap her shoulder. With a small hum and a quiet voice she asked

"Did you find them? The pit?"

The older woman's body when rigid, tensing at her words as her mouth opened and closed several times before a squeak managed its way out. Rhyannon shrugged her hand off and left her behind, going to toss the remaining pack over the back of the horse as the men looked bewilderedly at each other.

Ambrosine offered no further reply.

"The...pit? What pit?" Gareth pressed, his hand going to stop her from untying the horse, "what did you find out there?"

Rhyannon's lips pressed together into a thin line as her eyes dropped to the side. She took several deep breaths through her nose.

"The reason the village is so abandoned...everyone who lived here died. The bodies were collected and disposed of in a ditch on the edge. But...the dragon's insanity that's tainted the area, that created that disgusting monster we encountered...the villagers are dead. Rotting, decaying."

”How is that a problem if they’re dead, though? They can’t get to us if they’ve been tossed in a ditch.” Frewin questioned.

Rhyannon didn’t respond. He had a point, they didn’t have to worry. The edges of the ditch were steep enough that nothing could climb out. Regardless, her anxiety did not feel any better. If anything, she felt it swelling, growing into a larger bubble beneath the surface. One tiny push and the bubble would pop and send her anxiety tumbling over the edge. She pulled herself up, throwing a leg over the horse, and steadied herself.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She commented as she took the reins.

“Well, that does explain why we haven’t seen anyone. Though, I would’ve thought they’d opt to burn the bodies instead of just throwing them in some ditch, not even that far from the village.” Gareth helped Frewin up on the horse to sit in front of Rhyannon. He helped to steady him before checking to make sure the bags were steady.

“what if they didn’t get the chance? It sounds like they didn’t get the chance to actually kill their dead, even.” Ambrosine asked with a smile and a gesture of her hands, each devoid of care.

Rhyannon's hands tightened around the reins turning her knuckles a pale white. The anxiety melted away into a wave of warm anger. How could she stand to be so flippant? This could be dangerous and yet she's so casual.

"Let's just be careful on our way out. Rhyannon, which way did you find the pit?" Gareth quickly took control of the conversation, redirecting the focus back to her. Rhyannon's hands relaxed around the reins, a slight relief causing her to lessen her tension.

"Towards the east, perhaps five miles out." She nudged the horse with her heels, urging it to move forward.

”Then we’ll go towards the middle of the village and take a long way around to reach the edge and the path that reaches Penbel.” Gareth walked alongside Rhyannon and Frewin as Ambrosine trailed behind, head tilted as she watched them get ahead of her.

”Do we really have to? Taking that long path around will only eat up time- valuable time we could better use to be rescuing our prince’s precious little sister.” She nearly purred, her expression passive. Her lip was slightly pouted as if she was genuinely feeling pity, but the calculative look in her eyes revealed it to be nothing more than a cheap mimicry.

Gareth took a deep breath to ignore her gibes. He held it until it started burning in his chest before letting out a long, low exhale from his nose. His temples throbbed with how hard he clenched his jaw tight. The skin beneath his eye patch prickled, sharp, stabbing pains as if he had several sewing needles slowly pushing against his face. A pain he hadn't felt in quite some time. He subconsciously moved the fabric aside to rub at the old injury. The skin had long since healed over the empty socket, and the crisscrossing of jagged, claw-like scars akin to rivers full of dark, angry water.

"Oh my, that's quite a horrible injury, dear prince. However, did such a thing come to be?" Ambrosine appearing at his side suddenly was enough to break his thoughts as he hurried to readjust the fabric, "we have plenty of time, after all, so why not sure the tale with us? I mean- you know more about us than we know of you."

Her question was a simple one- one he had expected to come up at some point. They were nothing more than strangers to each other, bound only to one another by the loose strings of his purse. He didn't assume his personal story was any more important than Rhyannon's nor Frewin's- certainly no more than hers. Perhaps, he thought, had the question been asked by anyone else, he wouldn't have tasted the acrid sourness of bile bubbling up his throat.

Rather than give in to her pestering, he stayed firm in his silence. Everyone, aside from Ambrosine, was exhausted. Rhyannon kept her eyes glued to something beyond the horse she rode, her eyes were devoid of any sign of life, the dark rings that lined underneath almost looking like bruises. Frewin's head occasionally bobbed forward before bouncing back upwards. Gareth himself was pale and disheveled, his dark locks were tossed every which way, and his clothing wrinkled. A far cry from the pristine put together prince they met only days ago.

His silence didn't seem to bother her any. Her smile remained, as bright and energetic as he had known it. Her silvery eyes took an orange hue from the early morning sun. Eyes like pearlescent fires. She was clean. Well rested. Pure.

Revolting.

The village homes began showing more wear the further to the village center they got. More debris made movement slower and more difficult to traverse. Overgrown greenery curled out from the broken windows, bricks were tossed all around. The sounds of hooves and boots crunching glass grew louder and steadier.

Gareth's whistle echoed off the decrepit houses, "whatever happened here must've been awful."

"Let's just focus on getting out of here rather than on the scenery," Rhyannon commented. She leaned forward to look around at Frewin, "are you okay? You've been awfully quiet all morning?"

Frewin was lost in his own thoughts, her words barely reaching him. She prodded a few more times before gently shaking him, causing him to startle.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Just...thinking, I guess."

The conversation quickly died out again as they progressed through the barren village. Attempts were made just to avoid silence, only to be met with short replies or grunts. Eventually, they all came to a silent agreement to stop talking. As they neared the village, Ambrosine let out a soft gasp.

The center of the village was where the most destruction had laid hidden. Broken glass lay scattered like snow across the broken rubble of the buildings, the trees and crops were destroyed, trampled over, and burned. A foul smell of rot and burnt wood hovered in the air regardless.

"Was this...really all just the work of a dying dragon?" Frewin asked, not even aware that he had spoken. His voice sounded foreign to him. Weak and small, distant.

They didn't respond, Ambrosine merely humming. He didn't need Gareth or Rhyannon to confirm his question. He, just as much as they, were well aware of the answer. Gareth lowered his head as his fingers went to his eyepatch.

"Come on. Let's go."

As they passed the empty homes, the thick, heavy smell began to become more and more noticeable. A wet, sweet, smell of decayed earth and rotting meat. Accompanying the smell was the sound of something sodden smacking against the concrete with twigs scraping along behind. As they grew closer they could hear guttural mutterings. Rhyannon sat up straight in the saddle, knuckles going white around the reins. Her neck muscles tensed enough they were almost standing straight out. The horse's hooves echoed loud crunches of broken debris. The scraping grew more hurried and frantic as the small group grew closer.

"Do you hear that, too? Shouldn't we check it out? It could be something dangerous..." Ambrosine commented, her voice losing the chirp it normally carried. She almost sounded concerned. It made Gareth's stomach knot uncomfortably.

At her pestering, Gareth motioned for the horse to pause. Rhyannon's hands relaxed some around the reigns as Frewin's mouth settled into a hard line. He slipped from the horse, careful to not jostle Rhyannon, and approached where the scraping sound had been coming from. His footsteps were slow and cautious, carefully avoiding the shards of broken glass and general debris as best he could. The last thing he wanted was to bring attention to himself while unarmed.

He went around the side of the broken-down home, arm raised as if to defend himself from whatever he was about to run into. Coming around it revealed a man- or what should have been a man. The flesh and tatters barely hung from spindly arms as the body shuffled meaninglessly. His legs were bowed and misshapen, the ankle of one broken at an unnatural angle as the exposed bone was dragged against the concrete. His mouth snapping with it's broken teeth and gurgling as if he was trying to speak.

Frewin felt his stomach bile rising in the back of his throat as he watched him shamble about. As quietly as he approached he retreated back, hand clamped hard over his mouth to keep its contents down.

"It's...as Rhyannon said.They're..." he couldn't get the words out. They felt too unnatural and unbelievable and each opening of his mouth had his stomach quivering.

The paleness to his face was what Gareth needed to believe his words.

"Then we should take the long way-"

"It's one corpse. Do you forget you have a pair of dragon slayers on your hands?" Ambrosine's tone was practically a purr as she interrupted Garth, "we'll be fine. The longer we take the more time we waste getting to your precious baby sister. Do you really want to run that risk?"

His mouth was set in a firm line. She had a point- and he hated that. It was a risk, but so was standing here debating on what to do. t was one body. They had already dealt with worse so far. Yet, part of his gut was still nagging him to just backtrack and take the longer route through the village. Perhaps even backtrack all the way back out of the village and go around the mountain. He sighed.

"Alright. Let's keep going forward."

Ambrosine's delight at his agreement caused that stone to settle into his stomach once more. He hated that grin on her face. He hated how her eyes sparkled when he relented. Everything about this creature made his lip curl up in disgust.

He helped Frewin back up on the horse and took hold of the reins once more. Rhyannon refused to look at them or comment but her anger was obvious behind her dark eyes. She was just as uncomfortable with this set up as he was, yet was just as stuck to disagree with Ambrosine's claim. She nudged her heels into the horse's sides and the whinny it made caused the shuffling noises to pick up in movement towards their direction. The horse didn't waste time in setting a gait led by Gareth.