Gilded Serpents

Chapter Thirty-Five: The Red Fields

"Would you have let me die then? Let Myrot slit my throat?"

"Yes, a thousand times yes. In fact, I would kill you myself if it gave me even another chance at him."

It was daybreak now, and tiny morning birds were singing their welcome song to the two suns, gleaming bright across the humid bog. When Aixel returned, panting and dirt-ridden after his calamitous dance with Myrot, he told me to try and sleep. He and Doris would keep watch in the night, waking me to stand guard once he grew tired as it would be dangerous to head back to town, whether we received crane from Milea or not. His excited state seemed to last him until morning, as I slept through the night with my exhausted state overwhelming my need for any comforts. When I awoke, I found him still pacing the perimeter of the long-dead fire, talking to either himself or Doris on his shoulder, I was not sure.

"Gods, I was so close. I could smell his putrid magic, all sickly sweet. Vile," he paced, tracing dirt ridden hands through a mess of red hair.

I stood with a groan, feeling every joint and muscle ache after a long night asleep on the uneven ground. Much to my embarrassment, my stomach also groaned, only far louder.

"I don't suppose you brought anything to eat?" I asked.

Aixel stopped his frantic pacing to give me a look.

"Look around, city girl. There's a feast to be had all around us," he gestured.

I, indeed, looked around and spotted nothing particularly appetizing.

"What? Mud? There's nothing here."

"Don't be daft. There's crickets, honeyweed, crayfish. I think I saw a couple of huskfruit trees during last night's travels."

"Oh," I sighed.

Perhaps I could wait until we were back in town to eat.

There was movement in the water behind us, followed by beating wings and a soft cooing. I turned to see a crane, elegant and white amongst the dark green swamp, long legs slowly moving towards us. Aixel walked towards it, stepping high through the water, before untying the small letter on its long white neck.

As he unfolded the parchment, he let out a sigh.

"Milea says scouts have seen another party of knights from the east and to meet them there so they won't come any further."

"So what's the trouble? That's why we were sent out here."

"Any further east and we'll hit the red fields," his brow furrowed.

"And?"

He gave another sigh of frustration.

"We don't go to the red fields, it's forbidden."

I picked up my blade and shook off the dirt, waiting for further explanation, but he remained silent, reading over the letter again.

"And why is it forbidden?"

"It's just - everyone in the Barrens knows, 'Don't go to the red fields.' They're sacred. Ancient magic."

Never, in all my readings, have I ever heard anything about 'red fields' in the Barrens.

"Well it's either that or we hope they don't make it to the underground. I'm sure they have another seer by now."

Aixel made a pained expression.

"Maybe it's just the sleep deprivation but I'm not sure what other choice we have," he sighed.

Burgundy red waves swayed slowly as the breeze rippled through the chest-high grass. Red, deep and dark spread over slight slopes reaching far into the bright blue mid morning horizon, stretched like unpressed velvet sheets. It was quiet, eerily so, save for the soft rustling of grass, free from any sort of tree cover. Even the insects seemed to dare not enter this invisible border between swamplands and field. The immense sight, jarring in its stark nature, left me with an almost paralyzing sense of unease, and even without Aixel's earlier words, I would have known this place to be sacred.