Silverleaf

They would trek to Leryn Forest, which lay north of Lanria territory and stretched west across the continent.Though it would take considerable time to get there, ensuring the safety of Mouse’s only family was worth it. While Mouse said nothing, his silence told his worries.

Mouse sipped his tea, his eyes following Taiga drop into the stool adjacent to his. The tavern was abuzz with chatter, and alcohol passed around the tables behind them despite the hour of the day. A woman twisted behind Taiga, her boots heavy on the wooden floor as she made her way up the stairs and to the inn.

Taiga set the cloth in his hands down across the table and flattened it out, revealing a simple map of Lanria While the map didn’t detail specifics, most large cities, landmarks, and territorial divides were marked. He picked up the lantern from the table, and set it down on the map, near a newly inked marking.

“The guards haven’t noticed a rise in corruption in the area, but did confirm a Guardian Spirit sighting. The most recent report came out a few days ago, so they should still be nearby.” Taiga watched Mouse in the dim light, who sipped without a word.

A group near their table erupted in laughter, and one of the women fell back out of her stool, catching herself against Mouse’s back. He whipped around, and smacked her off. The table wobbled, and Taiga lifted Mouse’s mug before it tumbled off their table in the scuffle.

“Hey, what the fuck, man?” the woman slurred at Mouse. A waitress set her tray down and helped the woman to her feet. Taiga handed the mug back to him, and Mouse wrapped his hands around it. His demeanor softened with another sip of his tea.

“Piss off,” Mouse snarled without a glance in their direction. The woman got back to her feet, mumbled curses under her breath, and sat back down at her table. Mouse sipped on his drink again, unfazed and eyeing the map.

“I see your manners have improved,” Taiga commented after a moment of watching the other group give up on rousing another reaction from Mouse and moving on.

“Yeah?” Mouse blinked at him, finishing off his mug and setting it beside a couple of cleared plates. A small pile of rabbit bones rustled slightly when the mug clacked against the plate they sat upon.

“No.” Taiga gazed back at the map, where he’d marked a black dot just to the west of the small mercenary-filled town they currently resided in.

Without support from Lanria or their queen, they’d managed to travel North from the capital. After they’d been expelled of their equipment, armor, and weapons, it took two weeks to arrive where they currently rented a room at. Since their journey north was a long one, there was no harm in stopping to check on the Guardians they passed along the way.

“We should try talking to the Guardian since you can communicate with them,” Taiga checked to see if Mouse’s eyes were on him, “see if they’ve noticed any changes, or might know more than humans do in regards to the spread of corruption.”

“Grhaanfjes.” The word tumbled out of Mouse’s mouth in a guttural tone Taiga didn’t know Mouse was capable of.

“Um… what?” Taiga paused. Mouse slid a finger atop the black dot on Taiga’s map.

“The Guardian’s name. Graanfjes,” again Mouse’s voice shifted into scrapes and guttural sounds and cuts beyond Taiga’s comprehension. “It sounds better speaking from your mind, since it’s more a sound than a name.”

“Ah, is that so.”

Mouse nodded. “They’re all connected mentally, so if any Guardians are actually corrupting, they should all be aware.”

Mouse had been a child when Taiga found him living with the Guardian whose territory ranged southeast of Leryn Forest’s border, in land overtaken by the spreading corruption. Taiga, a child then himself, had wandered into the corruption zone to escape his pursuers.They’d made the trip to visit the Guardian when they could, although a few years had passed since their last visit.

The officials and royal court called on Mouse several times over their years of knighthood to communicate with the Guardians on behalf of Lanria. This ability was one of the reasons the queen and three commanders of the knights tolerated any ‘shenanigans’ he and Mouse found themselves in. And why the queen tolerated Mouse’s lack of absolute servility.

Even when Taiga shot down a messenger hawk for a snack, or when Mouse challenged the new recruits to an insect-eating contest which resulted in the need for about a dozen of them to be seen by the court pharmacists for several days, they’d gone free of punishment. There’d also been the time Taiga and Mouse decided on an impromptu bonfire, which raised the fire alarm of the northwestern watchtower, calling for the mobilization of several knight squads that thought Lanria’s walls were breached by a surprise attack. The more Taiga considered, the more he realized just how much ‘grace’, as her majesty put it, they’d received.

“Confirming the queen’s suspicions comes first. If the Guardian Spirits are aware of anything, this should help us figure out how to proceed.” Taiga dropped a hand to his hip, feeling the rough edges of his weapon.

A prick of annoyance seeped through him as his eyes drifted to the wooden sword strapped to his hip in place of the magical Anrix sword he’d honed over years of battles and experiences. While Taiga appreciated Mouse’s attempt to replace their lost Anrix swords with new ones, infantile Anrix swords could take a decade to flourish, and nearly a year of battles to show steel. Until then, he and Mouse were left with wooden swords no more harmful than toys. Taiga marked it the last time he would trust Mouse’s judgment.

Taiga sighed and returned back to the task at hand. “We should also ask the Guardian why they’ve wandered south of their territory.”

Mouse nodded, and Taiga continued, “the knights of the town are watching the Guardian from afar. I’ve made it clear to them that Guardians are whimsical, and to not follow—”

A tremor shook through the tavern and sent Taiga falling back. The table tumbled over him, and Taiga shot his hands in front of him, catching the tabletop before it smashed into his stomach. Mouse jerked to his feet, eyes alert swiveling in every direction.

Around them, bewilderment and fright spread across the patrons. The last echo of laughter overtaken by cries of pain and confusion. Another tremor sent Taiga back to the ground as he scrambled to get his bearings. He grabbed their bags, tossing them over his shoulder.

Mouse steadied himself, his head whirling to the back of the building before yelling over dozens of frenzied patrons, “get down!”

Taiga managed to his feet, and knelt down just before an explosion reverberated through the tavern. The group of mercenaries once seated behind Mouse struggled around them, trying to to help other patrons out from fallen tables and debris. A waitress huddled underneath the bar towards the back of the tavern. Glasses and mugs spilled around her, shattering at her feet. Alcohol splashed from broken barrels, and soaked through her dress.

Mouse stood frozen, eyes focused on the back of the building as another boom sounded, closer, shaking the building and shattering windows on both sides of the room. Several screams rang out as shelves toppled on top of them, and people struggled to stay on their feet.

“Get away from the back wall!” Taiga screamed, barely audible over the cries encircling him. The waitress caught eye-contact with him, but remained motionless underneath the bar.

He lunged forward, running to her, but a yank from behind pulled him back. Mouse kept hold of Taiga’s arm without shifting his gaze, and before Taiga could speak, another explosion threw them off their feet. Taiga’s back smashed against a broken window frame, and sent shocks through his limbs. They froze up as he slid to the ground.

Taiga forced his eyes open despite the debris burning them, just in time to catch a large black tail coated in bright pink, orange, and purple quills slither out of a gaping hole of the building. What once had a full bar and a staircase in the back leading to a small inn above them, was now a pile of fallen wood fragments, broken bricks, and glass shards enveloped in a cloud of brown and orange dust. The orange grew stronger, bursting through the cloud of debris and bloomed towards them in a viscous fog.

Beside him, Mouse pulled himself to his hands, bloodied from window fragments. The world spun around him, and though Mouse said something to him, no sound fell upon Taiga’s ears. After a few moments, screams flooded through, and the roars of fire and crashing debris came from all around them. Somewhere in the distance, the town’s belltower rang unevenly.

To the left of Taiga, an older man struggled to his knees. Taiga forced his legs beneath him, swaying as his vision blurred and refocused. He stumbled to the man, and pulled him up. The man shook beneath him, wet sopping between Taiga’s fingers. The man’s arm slipped from him, and Taiga caught him before he fell.

“Get out of here,” Taiga coughed, scanning around them for anyone else he could help.

One of the mercenaries shook a fallen comrade, a raspy voice begging them to move, but to no avail. A woman screamed to the right, crawling across the ground holding a small plush dog to her chest, browned from dust. Few people stirred, and Taiga found himself wandering back to Mouse, who still focused somewhere beyond the building, barely on his knees.

“They’re screaming,” his voice broke, reaching for Taiga’s offered hand.

“I know, everyone’s hurt.” Taiga put his weight into helping Mouse up. Mouse shook his head.

“The Guardian Spirit,” he coughed, “Grhaanfjes is screaming.” Mouse scanned around them before his head jerked back up.

“They stopped.”

Another boom sent them reeling against the wall to keep them standing. More screams echoed from afar. Orange fog pummeled over them, rushing around their legs and moving past them, like water freed of a dam. Taiga’s legs felt aflame, sizzled in lightning.

Voices screamed around them, shrill and desperate. He burned. Anywhere the fog touched, a thousand hot needles pierced his flesh. And just as the pain came, it melted to numbness. He shook, sweat breaking across him and his strength sapping. The fog spread across them, taking life with it, expanding and flowing through the window and onwards. Then silence, each voice dying out one by one.

“It’s dense corruption.” Taiga’s legs prickled, weakly fighting his nerves for dominance. Mouse’s ears focused elsewhere, something unknown to Taiga dragging his attention away.

Taiga stumbled to the door, the corrupting fog clawing at him and dragging him down. His boots fell heavy against the cobbled road. The old man he’d tried to help lay collapsed to the ground only a few meters away. His vision blurred as the Guardian roared, and hollowed bells scratched at his ears.

Why? Why did the Guardian appear here? And now? Why would they wander so far into human territory? It made no sense.

Another roar echoed through the fog, curling into an almost metallic purr swept around them. Taiga’s knees buzzed as the corruption seeped deeper. But this much, he could bear. He stilled himself, straining to see further than two meters ahead. Fog surrounded him, and despite the tremors in his ears, he focused on sounds beyond it. The orange glow and crackles of fire spread around them. The bell still rang somewhere in the distance.

Mouse came up beside him, hand on the hilt of his wooden sword. They locked eyes for a moment. What were their options right now? Even if they could fight and kill a Guardian Spirit, what could they do without any weapons?

“Why did they wander from their territory?” Mouse muttered, his head swiveling around at even the smallest sound in the fog. “Why are they attacking?”

“Mouse, can you—” Taiga clawed his words from the corruption’s hold, but Mouse spun around to him, eyes wide in confusion.

“Their voice is gone! There’s nothing!” As Mouse spoke, a shadow loomed through the fog.

A thud, and claws slithered out from the orange haze. A shadow nearly ten meters in height loomed towards them. Black feathers tipped in bright colors snaked from a veil of smoke, a white mask leading the way. Black slits in the mask peered down at them, pink blood oozing from a crack down the center of it, staining their fur and feathers.

The Guardian’s head lurched back, and Mouse grabbed hold of Taiga’s arm. In an instant, what once was a peaceful Guardian twisted its head around and thrusted forward, jerking to a halt a dozen centimeters from them, and screamed.