The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage: Wandmaker Vol.2

WM [46] Hold The Guillotine

The muggy darkness of the forest clung to the druid forces like a shroud, the heavy air almost weeping for the sons and daughters of the Forest Father. The trees, ancient and watchful, swayed in mournful silence as if grieving for those who had fallen. Kara's soldiers' footsteps, once proud and swift, now dragged against the forest floor in a chorus of defeat.

Morale was shattered. The hundred remaining soldiers marched westward, away from Birchgrove, away from the ruins of their compromised base. The battle had been chaos—an assault by both werewolves and a horde of twisted monsters that had torn through their defenses with brutal efficiency. Forty-six of her soldiers had been claimed by that bloodbath, and sixteen more fell during the desperate retreat. Each death weighed on Kara, even as her hatred for the wendigo, for the war, for the monsters that harried them, twisted her focus into a blade of cold determination.

Of the remaining soldiers Kara, Steffen and Waddell were the only mages left in the detachment; everyone else were wizards. They still had a two day journey ahead of them. The forest was growing darker by the minute as the sun set beyond the canopy. Kara wiped her brow as she led her men to a position they could finally rest.

"We are going to need to stop soon commander," Steffen's quiet voice interrupted Kara's thoughts, walking beside her with his thin frame and weary eyes hidden behind fogged glasses. "We still have injured who have not had long enough for the prosthetics to fully grow."

Kara took a few more steps forward without saying a word. There was rage bellowing beneath the surface of her stoic expression. The sense of failure brought up by his words cut her ego at the reminder that her men were wounded because she wasn't strong enough. It was her weakness that led them to retreat, her poor leadership that allowed them to be found in the first place. She knew Steffen didn't bring it up to spite her but she had to let her emotions settle before she could speak levelly.

"You are right, Steffen, as always," Kara said with calm understanding. "Send out the scouts to secure the area."

Steffen turned to give orders to the soldiers, his voice soft but firm. The men responded to him with silent obedience, grateful for his leadership in these moments of darkness. He might not have been a warrior, but he was the logistical heart of the group—the one who made sure they had supplies, who knew where to find shelter, who thought three steps ahead when the rest of them were just trying to survive.

***

When the scouts returned they brought news of a small clearing a few hundred yards ahead. As the makeshift camp began to take shape, Kara stood at the edge of the clearing, her eyes scanning the darkened woods. Not just for monsters but also for any signs of the skinwalkers they had released or any that escaped the tree during the assault. Not only that but she knew the wendigo were out there, somewhere, hunting them like animals.

At that, Waddell, a hulking figure, walked up beside her. His antlers, large and solid like the rest of him, seemed to brush the low branches of the trees as he moved, his steps heavy but deliberate. Despite his intimidating size and strength he was a kind man with a face that rarely wore a frown. He gave Kara a reassuring nod, his expression a mix of exhaustion and warmth.

"They're dead because we weren't ready," Kara muttered, her voice low but edged with fury.

"It wasn't something that I think we could have prepared for, Kara," Waddell said as he looked out over the camp. "We did what we could, and saved who we could."

"Yeah, and look what it got us. We came here with two hundred men. Now we are barely one hundred strong. We lost Hagan in that fight, now we don't even have a mage healer. It is going to get worse until we get out of here. If you didn't put up that rock wall we would have been stuck there until we were overrun."