Strange Remains
Part 4
Yavan had started marching again and Menzo had to catch up as he finished his tirade. The Vigil smiled without humor. “Spirits and demons are not like the animals we hunt for food. There is much for you to learn about them.”
Menzo said nothing as Yavan sent him back to the front to lead the way. As he pondered what he had just learned, he peered into the darkness ahead with disquiet. Pale light never stopped seeping through the canopy of leaves and yet, at every moment it seemed to him that the darkness grew denser before. He repeatedly found that it was just his imagination but his senses were so keen on finding reason to his anxiety that they betrayed him. Every time this happened, he realized he was nervous and afraid and with each of those reminders, he grew angry with himself. Who was he to fear superstition and wild guesses? He knew what he had done, knew what he had seen. The beast was slain and would not rise again. He clenched his teeth, grimaced and pressed on.
Thankfully, the climbing moon cast its light more brightly in the sky as they closed in on Mirrhe’s body’s location, having made good speed thanks to the archer’s renewed determination. His resolve at not being deterred by irrational worries had proven distraction enough to make most of the trek bearable. Now, what Menzo had at first thought to be a small clearing between the trees had both men pausing in awe. Before them lay what seemed a cascade of blueish moonlight falling from amidst the treetops. When they began moving again, it felt as though they approached an ethereal snaking river of light at the entrance of which stood a dark mound. With a sharp intake of breath, Menzo realized what had happened.