Things in Annarrow were much worse than he had expected.
I left it alone for too long, he thought to himself, feeling both guilty and exhausted at once.
But even he understood that this was an unreasonable thing to think. He could not be everywhere at once, at all times. He was just one man. He could not micromanage an entire continent, not even with a laundry list of remarkable abilities.
And yet, he could not escape the crushing feeling of guilt as he reviewed what he had so far uncovered.
The front line had been pushed another two hundred and fifty miles inland. That meant Annarrow had essentially lost a thousand miles of territory to the quarantine zone. That was without even considering the great southern blightwood.
Annarrow, already militaristic as a culture, had shifted even further toward fascism as a result of their losses. Even towns and villages outside of the quarantine zone were now being run as police states. The whole country was under emergency martial law.
The situation of average citizens—
It was not good.
Famine, disease, homelessness, and a brutal enforcement of law. It was no wonder that the people of Annarrow had begun to look enviously at the more stable and prosperous lands of Prystir to the north.
People were resentful, and he had more than once heard the words “we’re killing ourselves protecting them, and they’re getting fat and comfortable from our blood without doing anything in return!”
But that disregarded the truth that Prystir had already dispatched practically all of its adventurers to Annarrow’s quarantine zone, in an attempt to secure it. They were still there now. Besides that, Prystir sent food and resources south regularly, or at least it had, until Annarrow had begun refusing to accept aid around three months ago.
The queen of Annarrow was young. She was not as young as Arcady, but at nineteen, she was not very experienced. Aelfric had met her several times in the past, and found her startlingly intelligent. Even now she was astonishingly popular in her own kingdom, despite the dire circumstances of the nation at large.
In times of trial, people needed a symbol, and she was their symbol. Annarrow had thousands of soldiers who would throw themselves upon their swords for a smile from their queen.
He did not know what the true thoughts of the queen might be regarding the possibility of war between Annarrow and Prystir, and he did not have time to try and find out. She was very well guarded in a mountain fortress far from the front lines.
He had a different assignment. He needed to understand how bad things were in the quarantine zone.
And they were
very
very
very
bad.
The ground was dry and dusty, and dangerous quagmires cut through the landscape. Invasive species were everywhere: grasses, molds, fungi. He had to wear an air filtration artifact to keep from breathing in dangerous fumes. He kept purification and disinfecting spells up around him at all times.
Many villages were completely abandoned. Those that remained were heavily fortified and populated almost exclusively with adventurers and conscripted foot soldiers.
It was grim and dirty and dangerous.
And one of the most dangerous things of all was the fact that there were rumors of composite invaders roaming some distance from blightwoods.
And although there were soldiers in the quarantine zone, there didn’t seem to be as many as might be expected.
Either Annarrow had incurred significant casualties that it had not reported to Prystir, they were in the midst of military redeployment, or Annarrow was conserving its military might for another purpose.
He felt he had seen enough to make a suitable report.
He turned his face back toward the north, and that was when he encountered the abomination.
Noise of a battle had drawn his attention.
He had steeled himself to ignore it and continue his journey back to Prystir, but then he had heard a familiar cry go up.
It was the battle cry of the fighting unicorn. These were adventurers from Prystir.
And then he heard something else—
A voice rising in pitch as it brought down a spell.
He knew that voice. It belonged to a talented young mage he had briefly mentored in the past. There was desperation in the sound.
He knew. He knew that he had to leave them to their fates and continue north to report the findings of his mission. He had done it before. It was the only reason he had lived this long.
He knew that.
He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes and forced himself to walk forward.
But then he thought of someone. He thought of someone he had not thought of in a very long time.
And all of his hard resolve crumbled, and he left the road and ran toward the direction of the sound.