After a few more conversations, waking up Ollie, and explaining more about the gods to those curious, Laird, Hu, Ollie and Michael were at the gates heading out of the village and towards Creekbend. From what Michael understood it was close enough that they should arrive in just under a day, as long as they didn’t run into any difficulties on the way.

  When they were nearly halfway there Michael began to feel the tinges of dread that meant they were getting close to a rift. By evening he was certain that there were roughly four nearby. He remembered that when he’d first arrived in the village several of their militia as well as the knights had been out taking care of a rift between the other village and Creekbend with their support.

  They elected to camp for the night as they were unsure if they’d run into any rift monsters if they got closer. Michael volunteered for the middle watch and spent the night praying and admiring the still foreign sky and its three moons that hung above him. In the morning they continued their trek, passing by the remnants of several rift fights. Dead horned men left to rot, lizardfolk picked clean by buzzards, and odd scars on the greenery where the rifts had physically sat.

  Creekbend itself came into view shortly after, and Michael was very disappointed to see that in spite of its name there didn’t seem to be any running water nearby. The village was more than double the size of the one they’d left. Not quite a small town, but in better times it would likely have grown to being one within a decade. It had makeshift walls built, the same as the previous village, and a number of people were manning them carefully with bows and long spears meant for pushing attackers off the walls.

  Laird and Hu led the approach on their horses and the woman on the wall raised a hand in greeting as they closed in.

  “Hail knights, I’ll raise the gate.”

  “Hail, and thanks,” replied Laird.

  The woman moved down from the wall and Michael heard the grunts of a mule moving forward followed by the gate slowly rising for them. Hu and Laird hopped off of their horses and moved inside with Michael and Ollie following closely behind them. Much like the previous village this one was a mix of different building styles and materials that spoke to a long history that went back at least as far as the road that led through it.

  “Ser Lound is in the infirmary with Ser Blake and their squires as well as yours,” said the gatekeeper.

  “Are they okay?” asked Ser Hu.

  “Ser Blake was badly injured sealing a rift,” replied the gatekeeper. “I have heard nothing else.”

  “Take our horses to the stable,” said Ser Hu gesturing for Michael to follow as he began quickly moving through the village toward where Michael presumed they’d find the infirmary. They got dozens of confused glances as they moved and the knights had to shut down a number of hellos on their way there, but toward the center of the village they reached a makeshift infirmary that had been converted from a warehouse and pushed open the door.

  The smell that struck them as they entered was sickening. Familiar scents of rotting and melting flesh as well as a kind of sickly sweet acidic smell permeated the air. Moans and screams rang out all throughout it and Michael swore he could feel the pain in the air. As they moved inside it became very clear that the rift the injured men had encountered had monsters or plants that gave off some kind of acid. Melted skin often with armor liquefied into it covered all of the injured. Overwhelmed villagers working in the infirmary were rushing back and forth, trying to soothe them in any way they could, but clearly they were out of their depth when it came to dealing with this type of injury. Michael had no doubt that they could set bones or treat wounds, but acid was an entirely different story.

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  At the far end, surrounded by men wearing heavy armor, was a knight screaming and writhing within heavy plate armor. Michael moved toward her first, his hand already beginning to glow as he moved.

  The knights around him were struggling to hold her down, and as Michael closed in he could see why. Her helmet had been half-melted onto her face, as had a massive part of her breastplate onto her chest. The metal had cooled on her skin and settled into deep and horrible marks across her body.

  Michael moved directly to her and placed a golden hand on her chest.

  One of the squires went to stop him, but Hu blocked him.

  Michael called on the power of the divine as he began to channel healing energies into the woman in front of him. The injury was complex and horrible, so he was concerned that he wouldn’t be able to heal her without cutting away the metal from her flesh. At the same time though, the damage was fresh, so it was possible he wouldn’t need to go that far. As he healed her, he watched the flesh start to reform and the metal push from it. Slowly the woman’s writhing ceased and she began to breathe calmly. The knights that had been holding her down were able to relax their grip.

  “Start stripping off her armor,” said one of them to the squires before turning to Michael and the others, but Michael had already moved on.

  He moved to a man whose leg had nearly seared to the bone and restored it. Then to a woman whose hand had melted onto her spear. One after another he set right their flesh and rid them of their pain. It was surprisingly tiring to heal this type of injury, but he still had plenty of energy to spare by the time he was done.

  He wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. “Praise the gods,” he muttered as he walked toward where the knights had gathered.

  Now that he had slowed down one of the men he healed grabbed him by the arm as he passed by making Michael look at him.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Michael rested his own hand on the man's for a moment, gave him a nod and continued forward. The eyes were all on him as he reached the knights.

  “Is the rift that caused this sealed?” he asked as he approached.

  “Yes,” replied Laird.

  Michael relaxed a bit, he’d been ready to run out and handle whatever it was to avoid any more injuries that severe, but he was glad it wasn’t necessary.

  “You healed everyone,” said one of the knights he didn’t recognize.

  “I did.”

  “I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “The divine made it possible.”

  The knight was unsure of how to respond to that. Michael supposed it was like watching a doctor perform a lifesaving surgery only to thank Ra. Still, what he said was the truth.

  “So the nearest rift was what did this and now it's dealt with?” asked Hu, seemingly for Michael’s benefit.

  “Yes, but there are still a number of other rifts nearby. We believe something actually snuck from one of them and poisoned our well. We’ve been able to purify it by the bucketful thanks to old Tomlin, but his magic isn’t enough to cleanse the entire thing and there’s concern that the longer the taint is within the well, the harder it will be to cleanse, especially if it gets into the groundwater far enough.”

  Ollie dramatically cracked his neck and then his knuckles.

  “You can leave that to me. Have it fixed in a sparrow’s fart.”

  The knight looked at Laird with a confused expression. “Who exactly are these people you’ve brought?”

  “New recruits,” replied Laird simply. “Useful ones.”

  The man shook his head and held out a hand. “I’m Ser Lound.”

  Michael clasped the man’s hand. “Michael.”

  Ollie followed up and did the same.

  Ser Lound nodded at them. “Nel, take them to the well.”

  One of the squires, a tall woman with hair cut short, nodded and broke off with them. Michael wasn’t sure he’d be of much help, but decided to tag along anyway just in case Ollie needed support.

  The well was in the southwestern corner of Creekbend and even on approach there was the smell of something foul within it. Once they were close enough, Ollie closed his eyes and began muttering under his breath, his magicka channels thrumming with enough power that Michael could feel it in his own, as could the squire who stepped back reflexively from them.

  After more than a minute Ollie tapped his staff on the ground and Michael began to hear the sound of running water from the well, then what sounded like a kind of scrambling from it.

  Ollie opened his eyes. “That’s not good.”

  That’s when the first of the beetles emerged from the well’s lip.