Penitent
Chapter 78: Wrong

Everyone quickly dressed and prepared all of their gear. Michael hadn’t had a chance to take care of his chipped and dented sword and shield, but was pleasantly surprised to notice that they’d already been replaced. Whether it was by his friends, or Bayle he wasn’t sure, but he was grateful to have the fresh gear. He kissed his amulet to the divine as he slipped it into his shirt and started placing it on his breastplate. His armor at least was still fresh since he hadn’t worn it at all during the infiltration. At the rate his strength was increasing, he was wondering how he would be able to keep his weapons and armor in good shape. Fighting any nobility or sufficiently titled and deeded individual led to numerous dents and dings in everything he carried. Perhaps that was why Bayle favored carrying so many blades at his waist.

They were all ready in less than ten minutes and quickly made their way to the courtyard where Bayle was waiting with seven horses being readied for them. Michael grimaced and wasn’t alone, none of them had been particularly able horseman, though Ollie showed a surprising lack of worry as he stepped onto a stirrup and hauled himself up. With his height and the size of the horse he looked almost comical on its back.

“I know you aren’t the best horseman, but don’t worry. These are all well mannered mares bred from Creant stock.”

Michael got his foot up awkwardly in his own stirrup and pulled himself up onto the horse as well, trying to follow Ollie’s example. He took a few moments to find his balance and watched as the others got on as well. Pyotr made up for his lack of experience with horses with grace, and the others did about as well as Michael had, except for Crick who managed to get on without such smoothness that Michael hadn’t even noticed him do it.

The stirrups Bayle was holding were making a straining noise as he watched them get onto their horses. His face was passive, but he clearly wanted to get moving.

“Alright everyone, fall in and stay close. There’s a road almost directly to where we’ll be heading. Let’s move!” He squeezed his thighs and his mare started to move quickly toward the gate.

Michael and the others didn’t even have to do anything for their horses to respond to Bayle and fall into line behind him. He jerked backward as his horse shot forward to catch up with Bayle’s. He balanced himself quickly, finding the most comfortable way he could to settle his backside as the soldiers moving in and out of the castle moved quickly to the side to avoid getting kicked by a hoof or trampled.

Once outside of the castle they cut across the open field in front of it for some time until they reached a road. Once there Michael and the others started to pay close attention to their surroundings, the attack by elven mercenaries still fresh in their minds. There was nothing there, but as they moved Michael started to feel an odd sinking feeling in the center of his chest. He couldn’t place the feeling, but it was familiar. A kind of awful wrongness that made him feel as if he was going to jump out of his skin.

Bayle’s horse started to slowly come to a stop and he held up a fist in order to cease everyone’s movement. Their horses did so, even as they themselves were trying to remember how to put their horses in park.

“We’re going to tie the horses off a short way into the woods over here,” he said as he leapt off the saddle with ease. He slowly led his own mare into the woods for a few feet and knocked his fist against the tree. “Mark this. The information I got is limited, we don’t know what’s waiting for us, and may need to move quickly.”

Michael got off his horse carefully, and when his feet touched the ground, his legs nearly gave out. He only barely kept himself standing by holding onto the saddle, drawing a reproachful snort from his horse. “Sorry about that,” he muttered to her as he raised his hand and started to heal himself. He felt a deep and painful burning in his thighs start to fade from the healing, and he quickly extended his healing to the rest of them, receiving grateful nods as their pained expressions dropped. He noticed that Crick didn’t seem to need healing at all, and hadn’t even tried to push the healing energy toward Bayle who showed no signs of discomfort.

Once the horses were secured, they all muffled their movements and started to move further up the road. They were in woods, but they weren’t very thick, and it wasn’t long before the outlines of small village buildings started to come into view. While Michael kept moving forward, his sense of dread continued to grow, making him want to turn around and run in the other direction. He looked at the others. They were all focused on what was ahead, but otherwise didn’t seem to be encumbered in the way he was.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

When they reached the village, the first thing they noticed was the noise. There was a kind of low hum in the air, low and constant, as if a fluorescent light had a baritone. They saw no signs of life there, but there were signs of some kind of struggle. A bucket of water dropped a few yards from a well. Small splatterings of blood on surfaces, and signs of people being dragged up the path. The buildings were intact, aside from a single small square of shattered white stone nestled between two small buildings. Michael felt himself drawn to it, and Bayle raised his eyebrows as he broke away, but chose to follow him rather than make him stop, and made subtle gestures to the others to watch his back. There didn’t seem to be a reason to be quiet, but for some reason they’d all decided independently to move quietly, only the deep hum providing any sound, muffling everything else.

Michael approached the shattered finding what seemed to be a partially rounded piece of stone. He held it in his hand, and felt that anxiety that was enveloping him seemed to fade a bit.

“This was broken by the villagers,” said Bayle softly, gesturing to tools that had been gathered nearby. “I’m guessing they were planning to expand this building,” he said, pointing to the nearby structure which also had some masonry tools and bricks gathered near it.”

“What was it?”

Bayle shrugged. “My guess is some old shrine to the divine, maybe even an old god.” He looked around. “Come on, we need to keep moving.”

Michael nodded, pocketing the small stone and they all walked as a group deeper into the village. The rift was not a subtle thing, and it was clear what it was before they even reached it. It was just outside of the village, an ugly red tear standing incomprehensibly in the air in front of them. It was roughly the width of a cart, and had jagged edges that seemed to twist and turn whenever Michael’s eyes tried to settle on them. It glimmered in a way that reminded him of the aura migraines he would get in his old life. Seeing it made him stumble for a moment, his body shaking.

Davi grabbed his arm and helped him up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern clear in his voice.

Michael nodded his helmet. “I’ll be okay, thanks.” He steadied himself.

“Fuck,” muttered Bayle, just barely audible to the rest of them. He looked back at them and gestured for them to back away. Michael obeyed the gesture gladly, feeling his body and mind steady after even just a few steps away from it.

Once they were far enough away, Bayle had everyone gather close with Davi, Michael, Pyotr, and Crick watching four directions as they spoke.

“The soldiers were right, that’s a rift. Not just a flicker of one, a fully realized one.”

“A flicker of one?” asked Ollie.

“While I’ve never heard of a fully realized one in Stent, flickers have been reported in many areas, particularly on the coast we share with Goetias and Old Hume.” He shook his head. “We’re lucky in some ways. No flames belching out of this one, or strange monsters flooding it from it.” He took a breath and looked at Michael. “I wanted to confirm it was real before I said anything, but from what limited information I have about rifts, only diviners can close them.”

“Why bother? Isn’t this a Tusinian village anyway?” asked Marcus.

“It’s close to us, and we need to know that they can be sealed.”

“I don’t know how, but…” he thought about the feeling of dread it caused him, and the eerie and quiet violence that seemed to have killed or taken the villagers. “What if the villagers were taken through it? What if I’m sealing people inside?”

Bayle looked at him. “What do you suggest? Going through that thing to find them? We don’t know how long the villagers have been gone, nor do we know if they were taken alive. Most of the people in this village probably already fled the moment they saw our banners in the distance and are hiding in the woods or the nearest town. Leaving it open for them could damn far more people.”

Michael clenched his jaw. “I’ll try.”

Bayle nodded. “Good. We’ll all approach it together, and cover you while you figure things out. Do you think you can?”

Michael shrugged. “A lot of what I can do is intuitive, so it’s possible, but I’m not sure.”

“Only one way to find out,” said Bayle, drawing his sword and moving toward the rift.

They all followed, and Michael started to again feel unsteady on his feet, but he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other until he was standing in front of the portal. He drew his sword and shield, wanting to draw comfort from the weight of them more than anything, and took a few more steps forward. He took several deep breaths, and forced himself to put all of his focus on the angry red scar in front of him. The others took their places behind him.

His hand began to glow, unbidden, and he could feel heat starting to grow. He moved forward toward the rift, feeling the wrongness of it start to dissipate as the glow in his hand grew. He raised his sword hand to it, and the edges of the rift started to solidify, and he thought, shrink. He increased his focus and stepped even closer, willing himself to move forward. The shrinking was becoming more noticeable now, and the obscurity of the rift was becoming more clear. The hum they’d all been hearing started to break up a bit.

For a split second, Michael thought he heard a scream. A child’s scream, at a moment when the portal flickered momentarily into perfect clarity. He rushed forward, and jumped inside.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.