The Spirit Wilds: Magic of the Green Sage (Fall of the Sages Book 1), стр. 39
Payne was a blacksmith, of course, as he’d said upon meeting them. He was an open book, told them all about his childhood. Loved to sing and play a small lute that he brought with him. Marcella thought he was endearing, while Dorrick found him a bit annoying. Of course, that had nothing to do with being a good knight, so Dorrick did his best to ignore it and see him for the talented squire that he was.
Nessa was a cold one. She didn’t like to talk, but after a few drinks, her lips loosened. She grew up in the slums, getting arrested multiple times for petty thefts. When her father went to prison for good—for an offense she wouldn’t divulge no matter how many drinks—her mother had to look after her little siblings, so Nessa enlisted in the order. And surprisingly, she had a knack for field strategy, archery, and alchemy. Who’d have thought?
Tomys was a lifer like Dorrick, which finally jogged his memory. Dorrick had met Tomys before. There were just so many squires and knights coming and going throughout the years, recruits trying and failing and succeeding, that it was hard to keep track. How they missed each other so often though, he didn’t know, but Tomys explained that he’d always admired how Dorrick worked so hard trying to get out of his father’s shadow. Of course, the young knight hadn’t expected this candor from his squire, but he appreciated it, nonetheless.
Finally, there was Borner, who was akin to Marcella in that their fathers were both powerful lords of the city. He was very quiet, but in a shy way, and didn’t drink, so they didn’t get much out of him. He seemed nice, though, and was a right mean cook, which Dorrick found odd for a noble’s son who probably had meals cooked for him growing up.
Derrick knew better than to judge someone based on upbringing, though. Knights of the order came from all backgrounds, all walks of life, to fight against a common enemy.
By the time they made it through the Helwind Pass and to the other side of the Lazendires, they’d become…well, perhaps friends wasn’t the best word, but Dorrick could see them going on many adventures together before they earned their capes.
As they came to the end of the pass, Dorrick got his first glimpse of the Mushroom Wilds.
They stretched out as far as the eye could see, their massive caps dotting the horizon by the thousands. This was different than seeing a forest. It was so surreal, so alien, but it was breathtaking. There was no telling what laid within, how many human settlements were scattered about, and what kind of monsters lurked beneath the giant stalks. These were the true wilds, ones that he doubted Al-Sevara would ever be able to conquer.
But those were thoughts for another time.
Marcella rode up alongside him. “You look like you might cry, Sir Dorrick.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “This is just my first time seeing the Mushroom Wilds. The stories don’t do them justice.”
She smiled and looked forward. “No, they don’t.”
The squires were equally in awe as he was. Clearly, they’d never seen them before either. Not surprising, since all of them grew up in and around the city.
They weren’t there to sightsee, though. They had a job to do, and a rock spirit to put down.
Dorrick ushered his horse forward. “Come on, the town isn’t too far from the pass. Hopefully, the townsfolk are holed up okay. The report said the spirit came from the mines. Fighting it there would be easier, to avoid collateral damage.”
“But, sir, wouldn’t fighting it in the open give us a better range of movement?” Nessa asked. No doubt she was worried that she’d be an ineffective archer from inside. Most squires were of course required to use swords on missions, but she was too good with a bow to handicap her like that.
“You may be right, Nessa. Let’s get to the town first and scope things out before we come up with a solid plan.”
They all nodded and followed him. Marcella rode beside him and punched his arm. “You’re taking to your mentor role rather nicely,” she whispered.
“I hope so. This will be our life for the foreseeable future.”
With that thought, they descended from the pass and down the mountain. To the north, he could see winding roads along the peaks connecting the town to the mines there. That was likely where the spirit was. The town was maybe half a mile down slope of the mines. The road—if the gravel path they were on could be considered that—descended the eastern face of the mountain before curving behind a bend and a thicket of snow-covered spruces. The town sat on the other side.
As the knights approached, Dorrick felt like something was off. It was similar to when he’d gone on his first mission—a sense that they were being watched, a foreboding energy in the air, and absolute silence. Payne told Tomys a joke that he couldn’t help laughing at. Dorrick raised his fist and stopped his horse. They both stopped their laughter.
“Something’s off,” he declared.
“I feel it too,” Marcella agreed.
Dorrick dismounted and pulled his sword from the scabbard on his saddle. “Dismount, everyone. We’re walking from here.”
He got no argument. As the squires crawled out of their saddles, he and Marcella geared up, making sure they had all the potions and concoctions they may need for the fight to come. Every spirit was different. They all had different things they were weak against, different things they needed to be defeated, and Dorrick had just the trick for the rock spirit.
The town wasn’t