Silas was already right behind Erwin when the duke turned to him. At the sight of this familiar face, there was a palpable ripple of relief between the trapped mages. But they still cast wary, sidelong looks at Erwin once they were out of his grip and Silas helped them navigate their way back to solid ground.
The shaken mages were not the only ones casting strange looks at Erwin. Olive, finally managing to pull herself out of the mud, was watching him uncertainly. What was that look he gave her, when he’d rushed to her side? Fear, she thought, and something else she couldn’t quite decipher. But she hadn’t had much time before he’d rushed off. And Olive didn’t dwell on it in that moment either, springing forward – a little wobbly at first – to help the refugees arriving into the clearing.
Wrapping her cloak around the older woman who’d first called Erwin a soldier and her skinny grandson, Olive silently did a headcount. There were only seven. She was sure Silas had said nine. She glanced up to Erwin and Silas; frowning.
”One didn’t make it,” the older woman said quietly, reading Olive’s thoughts. ”She was trapped under the fallen rocks. We tried to dig her out before it was too... well. She’s free from this world, now. Her husband kept trying to get to her. He managed to move some of the rocks, but they came tumbling back down and got his leg. He’s still in there.”
At this news, Olive nodded and scrambled up the slope to the haphazard entrance to the cave. She stopped next to Silas, peering into the yawning blackness. ”Somebody’s still in there.” But from here, Olive couldn’t make anyone out. So, still moving a bit shakily on her legs, she climbed in through the opening and slid down into what was left of the cramped little cave. Even before her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she found the man by his soft sobs. When she could make him out, she saw his crumpled form next to the toe of the slump, one leg at jarring angle. She hurried over to him, putting what she hoped was a reassuring hand on his shaking shoulder. The rock that had trapped his leg had been dislodged by her earlier magic, but what was left of his leg, mangled, bloody and broken was in a bad state.
”It’s all my fault,” he said through a hollow sob as he looked up with haunted gray eyes at Olive. ”She wasn’t even a mage. She came for me. I told her to stay. To remarry. To live a happy life and now…” Genuine sobs now drowned his words and Olive squeezed his shoulder, crouching down next to him.
After a moment she got back to her feet and called up to the cave opening, emotion thick in her own voice, ”I need a hand. I can’t get him up on my own.”
The shaken mages were not the only ones casting strange looks at Erwin. Olive, finally managing to pull herself out of the mud, was watching him uncertainly. What was that look he gave her, when he’d rushed to her side? Fear, she thought, and something else she couldn’t quite decipher. But she hadn’t had much time before he’d rushed off. And Olive didn’t dwell on it in that moment either, springing forward – a little wobbly at first – to help the refugees arriving into the clearing.
Wrapping her cloak around the older woman who’d first called Erwin a soldier and her skinny grandson, Olive silently did a headcount. There were only seven. She was sure Silas had said nine. She glanced up to Erwin and Silas; frowning.
”One didn’t make it,” the older woman said quietly, reading Olive’s thoughts. ”She was trapped under the fallen rocks. We tried to dig her out before it was too... well. She’s free from this world, now. Her husband kept trying to get to her. He managed to move some of the rocks, but they came tumbling back down and got his leg. He’s still in there.”
At this news, Olive nodded and scrambled up the slope to the haphazard entrance to the cave. She stopped next to Silas, peering into the yawning blackness. ”Somebody’s still in there.” But from here, Olive couldn’t make anyone out. So, still moving a bit shakily on her legs, she climbed in through the opening and slid down into what was left of the cramped little cave. Even before her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she found the man by his soft sobs. When she could make him out, she saw his crumpled form next to the toe of the slump, one leg at jarring angle. She hurried over to him, putting what she hoped was a reassuring hand on his shaking shoulder. The rock that had trapped his leg had been dislodged by her earlier magic, but what was left of his leg, mangled, bloody and broken was in a bad state.
”It’s all my fault,” he said through a hollow sob as he looked up with haunted gray eyes at Olive. ”She wasn’t even a mage. She came for me. I told her to stay. To remarry. To live a happy life and now…” Genuine sobs now drowned his words and Olive squeezed his shoulder, crouching down next to him.
After a moment she got back to her feet and called up to the cave opening, emotion thick in her own voice, ”I need a hand. I can’t get him up on my own.”