Part - 1
Velra's chest still ached where Orren's boot had landed, and her pride hurt worse. She thought of the comrades who had bled for her rise to Slayer rank, of the ones who had died along the way—and here she was, tossed around like a child. She clenched her jaw, swallowed the sting, and took Orren's hand when he offered it.
"Come on," he said, pulling her to her feet. "The last one's arriving soon. We move as soon as they're here."
Velra followed him inside, quiet, still fighting the storm in her head.
At the table, someone new was waiting. A woman, tall and striking in a long black dress. Her pale skin caught the firelight, black hair flowing loose, a small mole marking her chin. One glance told anyone she wasn't a common hedge-witch. She was something rarer—a sorceress.
Orren gave her a nod. "Name's Orren Zahad. And you are?"
The woman's lips curved faintly. "Selvara of Blackreach."
Rahim and Nadir came clattering down the stairs just then. Rahim nearly tripped over his own boots when he saw the two women. "Well, well. Two ladies in our party? Guess the gods finally smiled on me." He leaned across the table with that cocky grin of his. "Names Rahim. And if you're not taken…"
He didn't get to finish. Orren cuffed him across the back of the head while Nadir muttered, "Sit down, idiot."
Introductions went round the table - Velra, Selvara, Rahim, Nadir, Orren, and their contractor, young Lethan. They spoke of little else; none of them yet knew the full weight of what the mission really was, only that the boy was to be kept alive.
When things quieted, Orren frowned and looked around. "Thought it was a five-man party. Me, the brat, the kid, the sorceress, and Mira. Where the hell's Mira?"
Mira, polishing a glass behind the counter, laughed. "I told you, Orren. I'm done with all that. I've hung up my boots. Besides, looks like Nadir's tagging along."
Orren turned to glare. "Nadir? Since when?"
Nadir straightened, deadpan. "Since you nearly doubled the contract fee. Someone has to make sure you don't piss it all away on women, smoke, and wine."
"What a pain in the ass," Orren muttered, waving him off. "Fine. Tell them to gather outside. We leave in a minute."
He was halfway to the door when Mira's voice called after him. "Don't you dare die, Orren. You still owe me a Money."
Orren laughed without looking back. "Debt or not, Mira, I'm not that easy to bury."
Part - 2
The road stretched empty under a pale morning sun. Fields rolled out on either side, the dirt path winding into the horizon.
Rahim trudged along at the back, sweat already clinging to his brow. A bulging pack hung off his shoulders, another strapped to his front, and two more dangling from either side.
"The fuck is this?" he barked. "Why am I the only one hauling all this shit? I can understand the old man, fine, he's a Warden but what about the rest of you? You're all skipping around light as feathers while I look like a bloody mule!"
Orren turned his head just enough to glare back. "Because, brat, everyone here's a Slayer. And I'm a Warden. You're the lowest rank. Means you carry the weight."
Rahim froze mid-step. "What?" His eyes flicked between Velra, Nadir, and Selvara. "You're telling me they're all Slayers?"
Velra didn't even look at him, just adjusted the grip on her rapier. Nadir smirked faintly. Selvara's lips curved in quiet amusement.
"You've got to be shitting me," Rahim muttered.
Orren's laugh rumbled out of him like thunder. "I told you to take the promotion test. But no—you kept saying, 'tomorrow, tomorrow.' Well, tomorrow's here, brat. And now you get to sweat for the rest of us."
"Unbelievable," Rahim hissed. "A Fighter, stuck carrying like a potter. What a glorious life."
"Quit whining," Orren said. "Think of it as training. Builds character."
Rahim muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "old bastard."
As they walked, the mood lightened, questions being tossed back and forth.
"So," Orren said, glancing at Velra, "you swing a rapier. Fast strikes, I assume?"
Velra nodded. "Speed over brute force. I break defenses, not bones."
"And for Nadir…"
"Strategy as you already know and support. I will make sure idiots like Master Rahim don't get themselves killed," he said coolly.
"Fuck you," Rahim shot back.
"See?" Nadir added, deadpan. "Case in point."
Orren smirked. "I'm a swordsman. Tank and frontliner, if you want to call it that. And if anyone's still standing, my fists do the rest."
They all turned to Selvara. She walked calm and graceful, black dress trailing slightly in the dust, long hair shifting in the breeze.
"So," Orren said. "Sorceress, eh?"
"Yes," she replied.
"Not many left these days," Velra muttered.
Rahim leaned in. "So what, your master must be famous then? Someone big?"
Selvara's dark eyes flicked toward him. "He was. His name was Daelric."
Orren frowned, scratching at his beard. "Never heard of him."
Rahim groaned. "Wait. I thought sorceresses were just fancy mages. Isn't it all the same bullshit?"
Orren stopped in his tracks and turned on him. "Are you fucking stupid, brat? Good thing I dragged you out here, your head's empty."
Rahim blinked. "What? Explain it, then."
"Listen. Sorcerers are born with it. Magic runs through their blood, natural as breathing. They don't need to study books or wave sticks. It's just there. But…" Orren jabbed a finger in the air. "—they're tied to one type. Whatever's in their veins, that's all they get. Sometimes it's fire, sometimes storms, shit not even written down."
Selvara's smile deepened at that.
"Mages," Orren went on, "have to learn. Study. Train for years. They can pick up more spells, sure, but there's a limit. And it's all human work. Nothing… raw. Nothing like what she can do."
Rahim scratched his head. "Sounds the same to me."
Nadir sighed. "Young master, don't be an idiot. Sorcerers hate being called mages. And mages hate being called sorcerers. Unless you want a curse on your dick, watch your tongue."
Rahim's eyes widened, and he immediately hurried to Selvara's side. "My apologies, my lady. I meant no offense. You're clearly far above some dusty mage."
She let out a soft laugh. "My, my… so eager to please. Don't worry, I don't mind. Titles mean little to me."
Rahim grinned, already planning his next attempt at charm.
Orren cut across it. "So then, Miss Selvara. What's kind of sorcery then?"
She looked at him calmly. "Curses."
For once, Orren's smile slipped. A ripple ran down his spine, his hand tightening around the hilt on his back.
Selvara tilted her head. "What's wrong, Sir Warden?"
Orren exhaled through his teeth. "Nothing. Just brought back some memories I'd rather leave buried."
The group fell into silence for a while after that, the road stretching endlessly ahead.
Part - 3
The sky was already turning a deep purple when Orren finally called it.
"Enough. We camp here."
Rahim collapsed onto the ground, groaning. "Finally. Thought you'd have us marching till I dropped dead."
"Would've built character," Orren grunted.
Nadir ignored them, already gathering kindling. Soon sparks hissed to life, flames licking upward into a steady campfire. Velra worked quietly, driving stakes into the earth and pitching the tents with sharp, practiced movements. Selvara stirred the pot, throwing in herbs with a grace that made the bubbling wrathhog stew smell richer by the minute.
The scent curled through the night air, earthy and thick. For a fleeting moment, Orren found himself staring into the fire, memories of long-gone nights and old companions rising unbidden. He shoved them aside with a low grunt and tore into the meat when it was served.
They sat in a circle, eating, trading a few half-hearted tales and barbs. Eventually Orren leaned back.
"Tomorrow, late morning, we reach our first destination. I'll explain the situation when we arrive. For now, just know this, keep your eyes open. The forest here's tame enough. No beasts worth losing sleep over."
One by one, they drifted to their tents. The fire burned low. The night passed quietly.
Dawn broke, pale light spilling through the canopy. They packed quickly, shouldered their gear, and set off again. The trees grew denser with each step, the air thicker.
The air thickened as they entered the last stretch. The trees grew tall and crooked, roots knotted like the backs of old men. Shadows clung to the ground.
Orren lifted a hand, voice steady.
"This is the Coilwood. Locals say it's crawling with Howling Coils. Nasty bastards, half serpent, half ape. Watch your step."
As if answering his words, the underbrush shuddered. A hiss slithered out, followed by a guttural hoot that sent birds bursting skyward.
From between the bamboo and bracken, the beast revealed itself: scales dark and mottled like swamp stone, its torso bulging into two gorilla-thick arms, claws sharp as sickles. Its head was stretched, jaw packed with fangs, but its eyes burned yellow with something almost human. The long body coiled and uncoiled, scraping over the leaves.
"Stand down," Orren ordered. His hand hovered near his sword, but he didn't draw. "Velra. Rahim. You take care of it. We will stay back."
Rahim blinked. "You're serious? Just us?"
"Wouldn't waste my blade on this thing," Orren said. "Go."
The Howling Coil shrieked and lunged.
Velra was the first to move, her rapier darting like lightning, steel flashing as she cut a shallow line across its forearm. The beast barely flinched. Its tail whipped around in a blur—Rahim ducked, cursing, the strike smashing a sapling flat behind him.
"Too slow!" Orren barked. "Rahim, eyes up, not on your feet!"
Rahim snarled, charging forward. His fists cracked into the beast's ribs, knuckles jarring like stone against stone. The Coil bellowed, swinging both arms downward. Rahim rolled away just in time, the impact splitting the ground where he stood.
"Velra, stop poking at it like a rabbit," Orren shouted. "Joint strikes! Elbows, knees, throat if you're bold!"
Velra gritted her teeth, sliding under a sweeping arm. Her rapier flicked forward, piercing the crook of the elbow. The beast howled, ichor spilling black and thick down its scaled bicep.
It whipped its tail in fury, this time catching Velra across the ribs. She gasped, tumbling back, her blade skittering across the leaves.
"Velra!" Rahim shouted, but Orren's voice thundered above his.
"Don't lose focus! Keep it busy!"
The Coil lunged, jaws snapping. Rahim dove aside, grabbed a thick branch from the ground, and rammed it between its teeth. The beast thrashed, splintering wood, but the moment's delay gave Velra time to recover. She snatched her rapier, slid low, and slashed at the creature's thigh.
It roared again, swinging a massive fist toward Rahim.
"Use its weight!" Orren barked. "Don't fight it head on!"
Rahim grinned through gritted teeth. "Fine!" He caught the swinging arm, twisted his hips, and used the monster's own bulk to throw it off balance. The beast stumbled sideways with a screech.
Velra darted in, blade flashing. This time she drove her rapier deep into the soft flesh beneath its jaw, black blood gurgling down its chest.
The beast thrashed, arms flailing. Rahim hammered its chest with his fists again and again, each strike sending shockwaves up his arms.
"Now! End it!" Orren barked.
Velra raised her rapier for the killing thrust...
...but before steel could pierce flesh, something else cut the air.
A wooden staff, heavy and sharp at its tip, whistled down like a spear. It slammed into the earth between Velra and Rahim, quivering deep into the soil.
Both froze, breath ragged, stunned.
The Howling Coil hissed, eyes flashing with strange recognition. With a final guttural hoot, it slithered backward into the shadows, vanishing into the bamboo.
Silence fell.
Orren's hand closed on his hilt, eyes narrowing. His voice dropped to a growl.
"Well. Looks like someone doesn't want us killing their pet."
End of Chapter.