Chapter 2.1: Village Crossroads II

"You can join!" Fee chirped, already carving more arrows from the wood Hogan had been chopping.

"You don't get to decide who comes," I said, harsher than I intended. I exhaled sharply and turned back to Hogan. "Look. You're a civilian, not a fighter. We were actually thinking of leaving Meili with you—so she'd be safe until the slime threat was handled."

Meili's head snapped up. "I don't need to be left behind," she said quietly, but with a sharpness that hadn't been there before.

Fee stopped carving. "She's right," she muttered, surprising me. "She's been walking this whole way without complaining. You wouldn't have let her come this far if you thought she was helpless."

Meili's grip on her sleeves tightened, but she didn't look away.

Hogan shrugged. "I can fight."

"No offense, but chopping wood isn't the same as fighting monsters."

"I think I can take care of myself. I have an axe and can attack anything that tries to kill me. And, really? You wanted to leave a little girl with a man you've never met before?" Hogan arched an eyebrow, unimpressed.

I shot Fee a glare, but Hogan seemed genuinely considering Meili's words. "Fair enough," he said, nodding at her. "Still, not a great plan."

"And who made you the leader?" Fee added, arms crossed. "Because if we're just assigning roles now, I'd rather be in charge."

This was falling apart fast. Kevin, as usual, remained silent, probably enjoying my suffering.

"Fine. You can come," I relented, rubbing my temples. "But carry your own weight. No one's going to fight for you."

Hogan raised his hands in mock surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Kevin, ever the opportunist, chimed in. "Then what's the point of being a team?"

I exhaled sharply. "Alright, everybody out! The faster we get to Orion, the sooner this ends."

"We're going now?" Hogan blinked. "No supplies?"

Right. Supplies.

Hogan led us around the back of his house, revealing an absurd amount of food—an apple tree heavy with fruit, a thriving vegetable garden, even a small rabbit farm. Enough to feed a group for months.

Fee whistled. "Have you ever considered starting a tavern?"

Hogan, however, didn't smile. Instead, he stared at the tree, lost in thought.

"You didn't even ask why I wanted to come," he muttered.

I shrugged. "Didn't need to. You're serious about this. You have your reasons."

Hogan gave a bitter chuckle. "Yeah, well. I haven't talked to anyone in two years, so I'm telling you anyway."

He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, as if debating whether to continue. Then, quietly, "I haven't done anything with my life. Just chopping wood, feeding pigs, growing food. That's it. Because he—" his voice tightened, "—didn't want me to fight. But I want to do something that matters. You get that, don't you?"

I understood, but I wasn't sure what he wanted from me. Some grand speech? A brotherly pat on the back? "Uh… good luck?"

Hogan sighed.

"Lancey-boo," Fee sing-songed from the side of the house.

Hogan's eyebrow lifted.

"Nothing happens between us," I said immediately. "She's just weird."

Fee rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm the weird one?"

She turned serious as I reached her. "I get that you're trying your best here, but how exactly is one cannon supposed to stop a massive slime taking over the forest?"

I stiffened. She wasn't wrong. It wasn't the best plan—but it was the best we had.

"The cannon is our best bet," I said. "Unless you have a better idea."

Fee exhaled through her nose, frustrated. "Also, seriously, who made you leader? If anyone should be in charge, it's me."

I ignored that, already pushing into the cottage. Maybe there was something here—something left behind by Reid that could help. Plans. Hidden weapons. Anything.

Because Fee was right. One cannon wasn't enough. And if I was being honest, I was just making this up as I went.

I passed the kitchen. Nothing. The library. Nothing. The dining table, the living room—still nothing. No hidden notes, no old blueprints, no clues about weapons that might help us burn the slime. If Reid really was from Phloj, he had to have something tucked away. They didn't just forget how to make fire weapons over there.

Frustrated, I exhaled through my nose and kept walking—until I spotted Meili.

She was wandering the house, quietly stuffing trinkets into a little bag Fee had given her. Not valuables, just random things—a rusted compass, a chipped mug, a small vial of orange liquid. A child's hoard of small, meaningless treasures.

I leaned against the wall, clearing my throat. She turned to me.

"Hey, k-kid," I stammered, suddenly unsure of what to say. Looking at her was uncomfortable. It stirred up things I didn't want to deal with. "I-it'll be alright, okay?"

She just nodded and went back to her scavenging. I wondered how Hogan would feel about her raiding his home, but in a world like this, did it really matter?

Pushing off the wall, I walked to the front doors and opened them wide.

Kevin flinched. He was sitting on the porch, supposedly keeping watch—but now he was tossing a stick for one of the wolves. Which of them was it? I could never tell Silver and Ivory apart.

Then I saw the bushes quiver. Heard the heavy snorting.

My stomach dropped.

"E-H-N E-H-N," I whisper-yelled, the warning code we'd come up with for Everyone Hide Now. I could only hope Fee and Hogan heard me from the back.

Kevin bolted inside with the wolves, and I shut the door behind them. We tried to move quietly, but the damn floorboards creaked with every step.

"What's happening?" Fee asked, emerging from the back with Hogan trailing behind, frowning.

I exhaled in relief. "Good, you heard me."

"Elf ears," she said, tapping the tip of one with a smirk. "Now, what's the problem?"

I adjusted the window shutters and peeked out.

Two massive wild hogs stood in the compound, sniffing around. Bigger than the one we ate just hours ago. Their thick bodies were the size of large wolves, their tusks long as daggers, curved and sharp.

Even I wouldn't want to fight them head-on.

"Everyone, stay quiet," Hogan whispered. "If we don't make a sound, they might just leave."

One of the hogs let out a long, drawn-out snort. It almost sounded… mournful.

I stiffened. I knew that sound.

"They're looking for their child," I said quietly.

Meili frowned. "What do you mean?"

I swallowed hard, my gaze flicking to the firepit outside.

I knew exactly what they were sniffing for.

"The one we roasted this morning."

A heavy silence settled over the group. Another grunt. The hogs were getting closer.

"Okay, back door," Hogan said, already eyeing an escape route. "No need for confrontation. And I don't think we can survive one, anyway."

No arguments there. We had to move. Fast.

"Think it'll work?" Fee asked.

"Only one way to find out," I grunted. "On three. One… two—"

A thick snout shoved through the gap beneath the front door. Bacon squealed. That was our cue. I couldn't see it, but I felt it—the massive thing rearing back, muscles coiling to strike.

We bolted.

The front door exploded into splinters behind us, the force of the impact rattling through the house. Wood groaned as part of the wall gave way. Most of us were already through the back door—Fee and Ivory, Kevin with Meili clinging to his back.

I wasn't so lucky.

A second hog crashed through the left wall, blindsiding me. I barely had time to yank my shield up before it slammed into me like a battering ram.

Dirt and sawdust filled my lungs. My ears rang. I needed to buy time. I reared back and drove my sword into its shoulder—the same move I'd used on Ivory just days ago. The hog shrieked in pain. An arrow whistled past me and buried itself deep into its right eye.

Fee, already yards away, gave me a wink.

Another ear-splitting squeal. Then—hoofbeats. More of them. Backup.

The others were already a good distance ahead, but the hogs were catching up fast. I could smell them—earthy, musky, breath sour with rage. Fee loosed more arrows, but they barely slowed them down. These things weren't just angry. They were out for vengeance.

"Don't shoot!" Hogan barked from up front. "They're grieving!"

"They're going to maul us if we don't do something," Kevin shot back, shifting Meili's weight and slicing at a hog that got too close.

"I have a better idea," Hogan said. "This is the path I was talking about—everyone, turn left! Now!"

He took a sharp left. Everyone followed. Momentum nearly carried me past it, but I forced myself into the turn—

And nearly stumbled over the edge. We were on a ledge. A narrow, rocky strip along the side of a steep cliff.

The hogs weren't so lucky.

Several of them barreled past the turn, unable to stop in time. Their screeches echoed as they tumbled down the cliffside.

"Move, move!" Hogan urged.

The ones that did make the turn tried to follow us along the ledge, but their bulky bodies were too wide. Hooves scraped against loose rock—then they, too, tumbled down. I bent over to see how far they'd fallen.