I stand with my hand on the door, willing myself to knock. Marlene will know what to do.

  The door opens before I build up the courage.

  “Why are you still up?” she asks me.

  I let my hand drop. “It’s still there. The decay. I can feel it.” I had already trekked out to the granary, as close as I could with the circle of runes warding me off. The pulses come from inside.

  Marlene shakes her head. “Edrine already cleansed the granary with holy runes.”

  “Then he failed.”

  “Now, I may not love the old fool, and I might doubt my faith when people like him are clerics and my late husband a simple miller, but I know holy magic when I see it.”

  I glance out at the moon. “I know decay when I feel it.”

  Marlene leans against the doorframe. “And if you’re right? What then? Will you—”

  She stops when a murmur erupts from inside the house. Denet walks into the entryway, rubbing his eyes. “Why is it so dark, ma? What are you doing?”

  “Go to sleep, Denet.”

  Denet rubs his eyes more. “I can’t. I feel scared now.”

  Marlene goes inside to fetch the boy a cup of water from the barrel near the door.

  With [Detect Decay] still rumbling within me, I sense the pulse again.

  “It grows stronger,” I say. “It cannot wait.”

  “What’s stronger?” Denet asks.

  “Nothing, dear.” Marlene pushes Denet towards his room. “At least let me put my boy to sleep.”

  I wait until Marlene returns alone.

  “Look,” she says. Exhaustion darkens her eyes. “Let’s say you’re right, and we wake up the entire village with news about this renewed decay, or whatever you call it. What do you suspect will happen?”

  I tighten my fist around the moss in my cloak.

  “They’ll ask to know why, Sevorn.” Marlene glances back inside, then steps outside and closes the door. “Your [Skill], finding decay, is dark magic.” She looks as though she might reach out to touch my face. “I know you’re good at heart. Denet told me enough of you to know that much. I can tell when the boy exaggerates or speaks true.”

  “But the village…” I say

  “They won’t understand. Especially Edrine. And too many people here would walk into fire if he asked them. I may convince the likes of Rorahn, but Edrine and other superstitious folk will not rest knowing you’re here.”

  So my fears are exactly right. I am a monster.

  “Are you—” Marlene stops. “No. You wouldn’t.”

  “Am I the one causing this rot and decay?” I ask for her.

  Her eyes are downcast. Though she may think well of me, there is doubt there, like with her faith. She nods to me, unable to vocalize her concern.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But I will stop it.”

  I walk away before she can ask me how.

  ~ ~ ~

  I find Taren’s window and knock once.

  He bolts upright, tossing deer skin, knife in hand. Then he spots me at the window.

  He joins me a minute later, garbed in a warm cloak. Unlike Marlene, he doesn’t ask why I stand outside his house, he simply waits.

  “The rot from the granary is still alive and growing stronger.”

  Taren does not flinch at the idea. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  I tremble. He thinks I’m the monster here.

  “Marlene didn’t find the granary rot,” he says, “you did.”

  I nod.

  “And you want me to help you kill whatever’s there, without the others.” He turns away and touches the doorframe. “I will help you, but you need to be truthful with me.” He faces me again, eyes alight in the darkness. “That time we fought the ridgeclaw. How did you weaken it? And how are you tracking this rot?”

  Someone would know eventually, that’s what I tell myself, hoping to get a say in who discovers my secret. Marlene was not my choice. Taren is.

  I explain more to him than Marlene. I owe him that much. And I need a friend. Someone who will be on my side. Now I am not alone.

  ~~~

  Taren paces. He has already grabbed his bow and knives. We stand within sight of the granary, but Taren still digests my story.

  “I wonder who those holy wizards were,” he murmurs. “If only you could remember the rune engravings. Not that I would know their meaning, and Edrine is…” He stops and I run into him. “Do you think the cleric knows what you are?”

  I’m uncertain. “He knows I’m strange and flinches when I use my powers.”

  Nox comes out from my shirt and flies onto Taren’s shoulder. The older boy laughs at the beetle as it crawls around before coming back to me. “Maybe he can sense your mana,” Taren says, “but has no way to accuse you of dark magic.”

  “Does it matter?” I ask and face the granary.

  Taren sighs. “Not now, but we will need to sort out how to keep Edrine distracted from you. He’s all but hung a door sign saying you’re a fiend.”

  I trudge towards the granary doors. The runes warm as I come up to them.

  “They really burn you?” Taren asks.

  I nod.

  He opens the door and I leap over the runes, feeling the scorching holy power raze my ankles.

  “I still don’t think you’re causing this,” Taren says.

  I pause, not to reply, but to activate [Detect Decay]. The pulsing throbs in my head. I walk towards the feeling. Taren grows silent and draws an arrow.

  I touch the far wall before I stop.

  “It’s not inside the granary?” Taren asks.

  I frown. “No.” Then I look down. “It’s under it.”

  We find a cellar door in the floorboards after scouring the building. Taren grunts, trying to pry it open. I grab hold of the small latch as well, and we both fall back when it pops free. Before us is darkness.

  Inside ?the cellar, down stairs slick with grime and water, we enter a tunnel that leads away from the granary. Rot surrounds us, overwhelming me with pulses that rack my brain. I disable [Detect Decay] to conserve mana, letting it slowly trickle full again.

  Taren holds a torch and lights old hanging sconces. I hear scurrying feet, then more, all heading our direction, coming from the darkness ahead of us.

  Rot Critter - Level 1

  A mass of them. Rotted, corpse-like creatures. Some take the form of rats, others lizards and moles; I even see multi-legged crawlers that must be cousins to the blood crawlers in the forest.

  Taren drops the torch and nocks an arrow in an instant, catching the closest Rot Critter. “I don’t have [Skills] for mobs like this,” he says. “That’s Honep’s speciality.”

  The dropped torch rolls across the musky floor, casting shadows over the horde of little beasts. I release arrows of my own.

  As they come closer I step backward.

  But Taren stays in place. His feet glow, and the critters bounce off his protection skill. He launches arrows at close range as fast as he can nock them.

  As the mob focuses on him, I drop my bow and leap forward, knife drawn. Individual Rot Critters are weak, but like the blood crawlers, their massive numbers will overwhelm us.

  I [Leech Grip] a rotten rat as it jumps on my chest. It shrivels, replenishing some vitality in me, but at a cost.

  Rot Infection. Vitality diminished.

  I [Leech Grip] a smidge of moss in my cloak to clear the infection, then kick a rotted lizard off my leg before it can bite me. I’m useless in this fight.

  Taren’s protection skill fades and the Rot Critters sense it. The horde leaps onto him and knocks him to the floor.

  He slashes widely with a knife, but is bloodied by the mass number of bites and scratches.

  I rush over to my friend and snatch critters using both hands, two at a time, [Leech Grip] transforming these monstrosities to bone and ash.

  Vitality and rot infection battle inside me, wearing through stamina and mana alike. Taren doesn’t see me for the swarm and hits my hands with his knife multiple times.

  When we finally clear enough of the Rot Critters, the few remaining flee deeper down the tunnel. I find Taren bloodstained, covered in marks, trembling. When I reach to help him up, he doesn’t take my hand. Instead, my older friend cries.

  It only lasts a moment, then he stands on his own strength, stumbles up into the wall of the tunnel, and rests his head.

  “I…” he cannot speak. Neither can I. We were foolish to come here. I was foolish to make Taren come.

  I step over to him and touch his shoulder. He flinches, but stops when I heal him. I [Leech Grip] the remaining moss I carry. It heals us both.

  I pick up the torch, which lies on the ground, smoldering. I turn back, towards the granary.

  And there stands Denet, cowering against the tunnel wall.

  Taren speaks before I do. “Denet, how did you—what are you doing down here?”

  “I–” Denet stammers. “I heard mama talking about the rot. And Sevorn was gonna go kill it.”

  “And you thought you’d come along for a hayride?” Taren stomps toward the boy.

  Denet leaps to his feet, ready to scurry away. “Just to watch. And then the monsters…” the boy whimpers. “They almost killed you.”

  Taren stops, and his posture softens. “Stupid. That’s what this is, Denet. If Marlene finds out—”

  Blackness shoots past Taren and me, latches onto Denet, and rips him from where he stands. I reach out to grab him, but I miss. The oily substance that holds Denet flies beyond us, deeper into the tunnel. I can sense a monstrous creature with [Detect Decay] in that direction.

  Taren and I share a single glance, then run into the darkness after the boy.

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