I hyperventilated. Esper, still leaning against me, couldn't have missed the rise and fall of my chest. She didn't snap out a warning, which I took as implicit agreement with my tactic.

I sucked in lungfuls of air, but we weren't in the mine. The forest's Aether was dense, but the Aether in the air was far thinner. Each breath didn't spike the Aether in my lungs, but more breaths still meant more total Aether. I could generate more Energy, but it carried a different price. I'd dodge Aether toxicity, but I was trading it for the traditional effect of hyperventilation: hypocapnia. I drove my blood's CO2 level lower with each rapid breath. The world began to shift and float. A small ringing filled my ears. My vision darkened. All pointed to the same thing: the CO2 level had dropped enough to cause vasoconstriction and reduce my cerebral perfusion. Still, I held on. Esper needed my higher-density Aether fields.

She didn't waste it.

The matriarch went from dodging to taking glancing blows. It screamed in pain and anger as cut after cut appeared along its feathered skin. That alone wouldn't have sufficed, but Esper also empowered the skill that accelerated putrefaction. It overwhelmed the beast's resistance. As long as I could keep this up, the scales would stay tilted in our favor. Unfortunately, that was becoming a tall ask.

My lungs and chest burned with each rapid breath. My head throbbed in time to my rapid pulse, and pinpricks of white dotted a dark field. And for whatever reason, the skin on my back burned.

"Hurry," I said—or at least tried to. I had slurred so much that the word was practically unintelligible. I tried again, but the slight movements of my mouth sent stabbing pins and needles through my lips and tongue.

Then a loud and pained roar filled the air. A loud thud followed. I turned my head toward the noise, which only resulted in a spinning mosaic of static and scintillating patterns. Instead, I latched onto the feedback from [Sense Injury] and earned a battery of white-hot lances through my skull.

I pulled back, relying on the skill's passive properties. The presence dimmed, then winked out. However, my senses remained so muddled that I didn't dare stop projecting an Aether field.

A pair of hands grabbed me and pushed me against the tree. The jarring motion broke my concentration. I didn't try to re-establish the Aether field, not that the throbbing in my head allowed it.

I rested my head against the moss-covered bark of the giant behind me. "We win?"

"Fool."

I flinched at the volume of her voice. "Please, not so loud."

Hands clasped my temples, and the pain melted away. I blinked, and my vision began to return. I found Esper's face staring at my own. "You overtaxed your Marks again."

"Maybe? I think much of this was from hyperventilation." I slightly tilted my head to see past her. The last raptor lay on the ground, unmoving.

"Is it dead?"

"Of course. I wouldn't be doing this otherwise." She shifted my head from side to side so she could study my Marks. "What you did was reckless."

"Don't think that's typical for me. I'm not the heroic type."

"Your action says otherwise."

"I keep running into situations with only two options: pain and death versus pain and living."

She snorted at my bad joke but didn't disagree.

I took another look at the matriarch, but she clicked her tongue and held my head tighter. "Stop moving and be quiet. I need to focus." I kept quiet while she worked. She let out a small "hmm." "You're right. You probably strained your Marks some, but the Aether toxicity isn't what I had feared."

"Yeah, I didn't get the surge of Aether I'd expected. It just didn't come."

"Aether differs in more ways than strength. The forest is very different than the mine."

"I'm starting to realize that."

Her eyes narrowed. "You haven't sensed it yet?"

"What?"

She frowned. "No question about the strain then. I don't want you to try and confirm."

Now it was my turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

"Just don't use your skills."

It was a simple ask, one my body preferred. "Okay."

"At the end, I couldn't focus my [Field of Decay]. It encompassed you, and you had wounds on your back that festered."

"Really?"

"Yes. They aren't deep, but the bark scored your back. My field did the rest. Again, don't try to use a skill to confirm. Energy use can turn strain into scarring. It's unlikely, but damaging your Marks isn't worth the risk."

"I said I wouldn't." She knew what she was doing, and that'd explain the pain and heat that had taken over my back as the adrenaline wore off. However, even in my poor state, I could tell she was drained. "But are you going to have the Energy to do it?"

"I'll be fine. What other choice do we have?"

Not a ringing endorsement.

"[Suppress Growth]—right, no skills." So we didn't have another choice. Potions would only worsen the infection without my skill to help. I let out a long sigh and let her work. She didn't have me turn around to view my back, but she did lower her hand to press against my chest.

Her power flowed into me. With a thought, I could have resisted, but it carried such a benevolent air that I had no questions about its effect. I relaxed while she worked, taking the opportunity to check out the outcome.

The [Field of Decay] had ended, but the aftereffects lingered. The sick scent of putrefaction had overwhelmed the crisp, cool air of the forest. All the corpses, save the matriarch, were a mess, not formless masses of decayed flesh on the forest floor, but with little left to harvest. However, the matriarch remained whole. Her death had come via a large hole in the head, not rot.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I let out a low whistle. "Nice shot."

She turned her head, following my gaze. "Thank you. I wouldn't have been able to do it without your help. Now, be quiet. I am almost done."

She released my head not long after. My muscles still ached, but that heat and the sharpest pain had vanished. I shifted myself forward, trying to stand without the support of the tree. The world swayed, but I braced an elbow on the trunk to remain standing.

I recovered in just enough time to catch Esper as she stumbled. She flinched at my touch but didn't bat me away. As I let my hand fall away, something clicked.

She had healed via touch, not at range.

"We are not in a good place, are we?"

She scowled. "No, and on multiple levels."

Even tired from the battle, she remained focused. She scanned the area. I tried to follow suit, but in my state, I could operate at only a fraction of my previous level. Even that hurt. "Are we safe?"

"We are never safe," she snapped, then shook her head. "Sorry. You didn't deserve that, but it's true. We put down this group, but more may be coming. There was more than one call. Worse, I think the beasts are feral."

"Feral."

"It happens before the Fel Wind. They lose reasoning, acting like monsters. Those raptors should have fled, especially that last one. That was a matriarch. Her death will leave the remainder of the pack severely weakened. She is too young to have daughters strong enough to rival her power."

I had so many questions, but now wasn't the time. "So what do we do? Climb a tree and wait?"

Looking up, she laughed. "You think you can climb that?"

I followed her gaze. Right… This was not home. The closest branches were at least a hundred feet up. With time and some creative movement, maybe we could make our way via the plants in the understory—if any of them could support our weight. "I guess not. Then what do we do?"

"We wait and recover. I've already signaled our location. We need to stay here and hope that the [Pathfinders] get here before anything else does."

"This place isn't the most defensible."

"No, but like before, running will just make us easier prey. In a moment, I'll move the bodies to make a low wall."

"You are going to move them? By yourself?" I eyed the four dead dinosaurs arrayed in front of us. Even partially decomposed, they had to weigh hundreds of pounds. I had become stronger since being here and learning to infuse my body, but even then, I wouldn't be able to budge one.

"Yes. Even doing one side will be helpful. You just sit and recover. You don't have the strength to do anything else. And if we have to fight, I may need you to create an Aether field again. That worked better than I had expected, and I don't see you offering much else with your class and level."

Ouch.

I ignored the dig because it was true. Even fully infusing my body with Energy, I wouldn't be able to budge even the smallest one. Of course, keeping my mouth closed to prevent an annoyed remark became harder when she walked over to the smallest raptor, squatted down, and grabbed the feathered tail. Her Marks flared, and she easily slid the corpse across the forest floor. Somehow, even though her class should skew toward Mind, she managed that feat without a hint of strain.

Another technique I need to learn?

I didn't dare risk crossing some cultural taboo to find out, not when I had two other skills of far greater interest.

I pointed at the bloated and necrotic flesh of the dead monster she had dragged to the left side of the tree. It would protect our feet, but its positioning also gave me a close-up view and, unfortunately, a nose full of the decay that she had inflicted. "The corpses look like they've been rotting out in the sun for days. What did you do to them?" The scene was only missing some flies swarming around it, though that just required some time. The putrid flesh was likely the perfect soup for their larvae.

"I accelerated their decay."

"Okay…" That part was glaringly obvious by the horrendous smell. "But aren't you a [Healer]?"

"Yes."

She didn't stop while she talked. I waited for her to elaborate, but she instead just grabbed another of the dead raptors. This time, she at least grunted as she dragged the body to the tree's right. When she finished, she just wiped her forehead and moved toward the next.

"Decay has to be the antithesis of a [Healer]'s role."

"Antithesis?" She scoffed at that. "I am an Ættarsk [Healer]."

"Which means…"

By the look she gave me, she would have thrown her hands up in annoyance if not for dragging another raptor corpse. "You are worse than a child. You ask questions everyone should know."

I raised my hands. "Look, I'm just trying to learn, and aren't you supposed to be my teacher?"

"I am your teacher, not your mother. I have also already told you this. Life gives way to death, and death begets life. The best [Healers] embody that fundamental truth." She let out an exasperated laugh. "To believe otherwise…we Ættir have reached unparalleled mastery over life and death, and everyone wishes they could do the same. It's one reason we are so feared."

I closed my eyes and tried to process what she had said. She had told me of this cycle when explaining the strangeness of a [Healer] having [Sterilize]. Yet, I hadn't made the next leap. The rotting bodies in front of me implied something far more sinister than the bacteria eating at their flesh. If she could do that to an animal, how about a person? Scratch that, she already had—me. My back was proof of that, even if accidental. Sure, she fixed it, but she had shown no great remorse, implying it carried no stigma to the Ættir. She also spoke of this power too proudly. If one Ættarsk [Healer] had this talent, that meant many of the [Spearweavers] could probably do the same thing.

I struggled to imagine the effects on a battlefield. In Earth's not-too-distant past, infection was the greatest killer in war. Assuming reasonable sanitation, potions were probably a net benefit—no wounds, less infection. However, with a single skill, the Ættir made healing potions irrelevant; no, worse—they doomed their users. Potions would accelerate the infection kindled by an Ættarsk [Healer]. Those who survived the initial clash would never make it back. The healing potions would just finish the job. And who wouldn't use a potion if it let them heal a wound that would have otherwise killed them in minutes? The Ættir could win based on pure attrition with countless terrible deaths from rampant infection and sepsis. It would be an efficient but brutal way to fight. It was also wrong. A war crime, even if she—or anyone else—couldn't see it.

I couldn't hide my disgust, and Esper noticed. "You did not strike me as the squeamish type."

I responded too sharply. "I am not."

Her eyes narrowed, and she threw down the tail of the raptor she had finished dragging to make the wall. "You do not approve."

It was a statement, not a question, but I didn't give her an answer. This was not the time for a debate. She would twist anything I said into an indictment of Ættir, even if it was nothing of the sort. Except it kind of would be.

However, she wasn't having any of that. She stomped over to the last body, the matriarch's. "Only Humans"—she grabbed its tail and pulled with a jerk—"cradled in the safest places in this world would speak such foolishness."

With each angry step, the goodwill I had earned burned away. However, even if my oath of "do no harm" wasn't as black and white as people thought, what the Ættarsk [Healers] were so comfortable with crossed—no flew—over any conceivably acceptable line.

What could I say? Were my attitudes based on the privilege of safety? Yes. Still, would I ever walk down her path? No.

With a grunt, she pulled the matriarch's body to a spot to close the gap in the short wall. It left me staring at the rotting corpses that now ringed us. Of course, my disgust with the technique did little to dampen my curiosity.

How did they do it if they didn't know about bacteria?

The most likely method was just the acceleration of all cellular growth. With any break in the skin, the wound would be immediately colonized by surface microbes. The skin contained enough different strains of staph or other skin flora for some to have the pathogenicity to generate an infection. It wasn't perfect. The matriarch had a way of resisting it.

I fought the urge to study them. A blessing, because otherwise, I would have missed the flicker from [Sense Injury].

"Esper, I think—"

She shushed me with a hand chop. She pulled her knife and backed up toward the tree. I retook my previous position behind her.

She turned her head slightly to whisper, never taking her eyes off the field in front of us. "How many do you sense?"

"Just one with a wound. It is moving rapidly in our direction. I'm feeling better, but I could have missed something."

"Where there is one, there will be more. Let's hope they hunt something else."

Just as she predicted, the sounds of fast-moving animals reached our ears. I struggled with the details, my perception not at its usual level. The last battle had taken its toll.

"These aren't raptors." They made no effort to hide; in fact, quite the opposite.

"I agree. It is likely a pack of direwolves. They enjoy the thrill of the hunt. However, it could be another set of beasts that have gone feral. Now be quiet."

We waited with bated breath, tracking their movements. Just as they looked to pass us, they angled toward us. Esper cursed under her breath, and unfortunately, she was right on both counts. The attackers were direwolves, and they had gone feral.

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