Silverleaf

Taiga wobbled a moment, his eyes sliding closed a few times, before the weariness began retreating. Mouse pulled himself up slowly, his eyes refusing to find the Spirit’s body. While no words exchanged between them, a heavy weight hung in the air. The house still burned behind Mouse, blending into the fire and smoke of the lit or crumbled buildings around them.

The flames danced from the Guardian’s wrath, burning in delight at Taiga’s hesitance to approach.

Spotting his own sword several meters away from the fire, Taiga dragged his heavy feet to it, picking it up off the ground. The acidic burns on his arms and face cooled, almost wet. He touched his arm, glancing over it to see the damage, only for the burns to have vanished. In their place, clear water dripped down his arm in its place.

He spun around. Where the pink blood seeped into the grass and burned it away, and where the large dark body laid encased in orange corruption, white powder trickled down through the dissipating fog. It landed lightly on the body of the slain Guardian. In only a matter of moments, a thin veil encompassed the Guardian’s great body. Mouse looked up to it, inching towards the head. He reached a hand to it before Taiga thought to warn against it. Mouse drew his hand away quickly, then blinked at his fingertips.

“It’s… snow?” He turned to Taiga, eyes a mixture of tears and confusion. Taiga forced himself towards it, blinking his vision clear and studying the small, sparkling crystals. He pressed a hand gently to it, the chill of it sending a shiver through him.

His fingers left their print in the snow, the edges melted only where he’d touched. As the beast succumbed to the white of the snow, its body melded and it, itself, became snow as well. They stood, watching its descent into something beyond their world.

“Mouse, do Spirits turn to snow… when they die?” He’d never heard of such a thing.

“How would I know? I’ve never seen a Guardian die.”

Taiga scanned over Mouse. Aside from a few gashes, light burns on his forearms, he appeared unharmed. His face and neck dripped with water, soot, and dirt. Taiga felt the singe of burns on his arms, but it was bearable. When they rested for the night, he’d check the scope of damage.

Taiga walked past him and picked up Mouse’s sword from the snowpile. An arrow rolled off. The shaft broke into three pieces. He’d grabbed it when he’d reached for the sword, and used its point to reinforce the sword’s tip enough to pierce the beast’s body. If it hadn’t been there, Taiga doubted the sword would have been able to puncture through such tough skin.

He turned back to Mouse, handing him the burnt sword. “It may be burned, but it will still become a fine blade.” Mouse hesitated, but accepted it back. He was oddly quiet, for someone known on the battlefield for never shutting up. Mouse’ lingered near the Guardian, his eyes unfocused but with intent.

“You didn’t kill them.” Taiga stuffed his own sword back into its strap on his hip. “And you don’t have to kill any of them. Got it?”

Mouse blinked up at him, his mouth parting if only slightly. As his eyes focused on him and he opened his mouth to speak, Taiga cut him off, “they’re your family. That’s why we accepted the mission, right? So no one else killed the Guardians? So we find a way to save them?” Mouse drew back, almost shrinking.

“I’m sorry.” Mouse’s voice felt afar, quieter than a whimper. “I couldn’t…” Taiga stepped forward, swinging his arm around his neck and pulling him close.

“I’ll kill them if there’s no other option. So just come save me when I need it. Okay?” Mouse nodded into Taiga’s shoulder.

“I want to protect them.” Mouse mumbled, barely audible. Taiga patted him gently, glancing over his shoulder at the quickly melting snow now that the corruption dispersed.

“Yeah. We’ll find a way. We’ll do everything we can. But if they attack like this…” Then he’d kill them. That much needed no voicing. “But we can’t ignore their corruption until then either.” Mouse nodded in agreement and pulled off Taiga. Taiga paused him, hand firm on his shoulder a moment and studying Mouse’s eyes shifting to a shade of purple and his hair stiffening. Tears threatened to spill, held back only by grit.

“Calm down. We’ll figure it out.” Taiga spoke softly, his hand cupping the nape of Mouse’s neck. Mouse nodded again, eyes purpling back towards their usual brown. “Calm down.”

He studied Mouse’s eyes and hair, watching for any further irregularities. Only when assured Mouse wouldn’t change further, did he let go. Mouse quietly looked at his sword, touching the burned edges gently. When his eyes wandered back to the snowpile, Mouse knelt down beside it, placed a hand gently on it, and closed his eyes.

Around them, the orange fog had dissipated as quickly as it came. And only upon it clearing, did Taiga understand the scope of the travesty. Bodies laid strewn about, where they’d collapsed in the rush of corruption. Taiga slogged towards a woman surprisingly not far from where they’d fought the Guardian. A quick check for breathing and warmth confirmed her death. He doubted any were alive, considering the immense effect the corruption took even on himself, but it was worth checking one by one, at least for his conscience.

As Taiga stood, a dark blur shifted near him. He glanced around, igniting his focus and pushing exhaustion back. A creature of black thistles stood a few meters away, having just turned the corner of a building towards him.

Taiga froze, and he and the creature eyed each other for a moment. Standing nearly two meters or so high, its legs that of a dog’s and its arms thin and long, trailing to the ground effortlessly. Its hands were shrouded in black sleeves of skin. Blue eyes glowed from what Taiga assumed was its head. A thin blue-gray mist rose up around it, enveloping the creature. Both startled to see one another, neither moved, waiting for the first move to be made.

Suddenly it screamed, flinging its arms into the air, and hopped towards Taiga in lumpy steps. Taiga swung his sword through his fingers, realigning it into position to fight. His arms trembled, still partially numb from the corruption.

“Mouse! Demon!” Taiga managed, before standing his ground. The demon didn't so much as flinch, propelling itself off a stack of fallen stone from the building and flung high into the air, quickly crashing towards him. Taiga jumped back, and whirled around to see Mouse racing around a burning house and cornering the demon between the two of them.

He raised his burnt sword up as the demon slashed its long arms down on him, pushing one hand against the handle of the sword and the other against the wooden blade to guard. But the strength of the demon crashed heavily against Mouse, and pushed him back on unstable ground. Mouse flicked his sword forward, and the demon jumped back.

Taiga swung out, slashing the short sword against the back of the demon's neck. If the blade were metal, it may have beheaded the demon. But with wood, the creature did nothing more than stumble forward, turning back to look at him as if Taiga bumped into him.

The demon swung a single arm out, and Taiga scraped up enough speed to block with his sword. But again, the demon's strength outweighed Taiga's, and the force shoved him into a building, the blow hitting hard against him and coughing the air from his lungs. Taiga's legs crumbled beneath him for only a moment, but the demon crashed down against him again, and Taiga rolled out of harm's way, sending himself tumbling to the ground.

Mouse jumped in front of Taiga as the demon launched towards him again. He swung towards the demon, the edge of the wooden blade slicing into the demon's thin stomach, and pushing it back. It tripped over debris, stumbling back. But the demon raised its arm up, catching itself on a broken lamppost above them, and pulled itself up effortlessly.

It cocked its head at them, and Taiga and Mouse were left staring up at it. Taiga’s legs folded, and dropped him to the ground. He slammed his fist against his thigh, barely feeling either impact. His legs and arms prickled from the corruption, any sensation fleeting in and out. Mouse defensively stepped in front of Taiga.

“Can you run?” Mouse asked quietly, his eyes not leaving the demon. Mouse’s breath caught and heaved.

The thistles on the demon stiffened, and began clacking and sliding together, creating a sort of chatter. Then from all around them, more clacks and chatter.

“It’s calling for help.” Mouse turned carefully, and pulled on Taiga’s arm.

Taiga pushed up on his legs, and managed to stand. “To the left, behind us. I don’t hear anything,” Taiga muttered, his legs at war with his will.

The demon readied itself, arching its back, thistles standing up. “Got it. Ready?” Mouse steeled for an attack.

“Go.” In unison, they took off, Taiga pounding his feet into the ground with every stride. Mouse ran just slightly ahead, not releasing Taiga’s arm. He let himself be pulled along, floating on numb legs and heavy drowsiness.

To the sides, black creatures jumped out of crevices and from behind debris and ran at them. They were smaller than the other one, but their numbers too daunting to attempt. The demons’ short legs could only carry them so far, and the two of them outpaced them. Taiga and Mouse pushed on, running past burning buildings. His vision blurred between flames and rubble, but Mouse guided their path. After a few minutes, Mouse jerked to the right, yanking Taiga along with him.

The burning faded around them. Trees broke between the buildings and debris. But Mouse didn’t waver, even when Taiga’s legs stumbled and tried to drag them both down. By the time Mouse slowed to a walk, only trees surrounded them on a worn path they’d taken into town a few days prior.

“Mouse, we have to go back. There could be survivors.” Even as he said it, Taiga wobbled to a tree, and slid down against it.

Mouse looked back down the path they came, then looked at Taiga. He said nothing, kneeling down in front of Taiga and looking him over. Truthfully, Taiga could barely move his legs. Going back was beyond his ability for the moment. He bit down, pushing guilt back.

“The stationed knights will take care of it.” Mouse’s eyes drew to a dangling gem on Taiga’s neck. “Are you sure these necklaces protect against corruption?” He tapped the purple rock.

Mouse’s breathing calmed. Taiga’s limbs still prickled, but he could feel his nerves coming back. He stared at his own necklace, but no magic made itself apparent.

“That’s what the queen told us.” Taiga sighed. A wind swayed the overhead trees, and Taiga listened to them, closing his eyes. Queen Nolara’s farewell had been unexpected, to say the least. And a gift of sacred protection on top of that?

“And you trust her?” Mouse clacked his fingertips against the gemstone, making it sway.

“Of course not.” It was nothing if not suspicious. “But at this point, I don’t have any proof otherwise, or any reason to suspect she has ulterior motives.”

A few birds chirped gleefully overhead. They chittered as a calm breeze blew against the branches of the tree. How could such disaster strike, and yet a short distance away the trees and birds went about as usual.

Mouse eyed Taiga for a while, “we’ll continue north, right? To Leryn Forest?”

He spoke softly, unlike Mouse’s usual assertiveness. The Guardian Grhaanfjes lacked the usual disposition of any other Guardian Spirit he’d ever met. Twisted and broken into a beast by an overwhelming surge of corrupted magics.

The calm, indifferent ancient beings of nature roamed the lands since before the rise of humans. They remained neutral in conflicts and wars, and continued to purify the lands of the corrupted, whether naturally or otherwise. The queen had been truthful of this corrupting sickness at least.

And for Mouse, whose family were these benevolent gods of the earth…

Taiga stomped a foot. The impact on the sole of his foot began overpowering the prickling and numbness enough for them to move. He stood. A few stings of cuts and burns made themselves known, but nothing of concern for now.

He looked up and closed his eyes, the light filtering between the tree leaves swayed back and forth across his eyelids. The figure of the great northern Guardian Spirit, bearing over him, filled between the light. The white mask of the Guardian turned slowly, and when they spoke, their voice came not from a mouth, but rather spilled into Taiga’s mind, “child of the forest, why have you ventured from the trees with only blood and death lingering from your blade and body?"

Taiga opened his eyes, and the memory faded. “Onward, to Leryn Forest.”