Jarod laid on his back, staring up at the gleaming metal which brought a fresh spray of azure after each thrust. He felt a couple drops land on him, cool and wet against his skin. It was a strange thing to notice in contrast with the giant throbbing gash on his leg.

  The thrusting stopped, and he felt a pair of hands on him, pulling him away from the bridge and dragging him upright. It was Filgrin. He noticed a look of concern on the man’s face when the bowyer glanced down at his leg. Jarod could feel how bad it was, but one crisis at a time. They had dealt with the monsters, now they had to face the tall man in the black cloak who had saved them.

  Jarod had to bend his neck back to find the tall man’s face. Despite the pitch black eyes and the unnatural height, the man’s face looked human, if a little gaunt. The man peered around the battlefield, double checking that there were no other of the creatures following, and then made an enormous sweeping gesture with its arm to beckon them follow.

  He arrived back at the carriage door with one great step, and then began folding himself back up, hunching over, and crouching down into a low squat, as he squeezed back inside. Jarod followed around to the carriage door, supported by Filgrin, pausing at the entrance. While they needed to find safety from the creatures outside, he wasn’t eager to crawl back into a carriage full of the surveyors.

  He looked to Filgrin, hoping for guidance.

  “Don’t ask me,” Filgrin said. “This whole thing was yer idea.”

  Jarod thought about running for one of the houses, hoping to find a villager who could shelter them and patch his leg, but his decision was made for him. The tall man’s unnaturally long hand suddenly reached outside, grabbed onto his arm, and pulled him into the carriage.

  His grip was firm and encompassed Jarod’s whole forearm with long, cold fingers. Jarod was caught off balance, but the man’s other arm came up to grab him before he fell, and supported him until he found his footing again. Then he reached out and pulled Filgrin in as well.

  Jarod’s arrival into the carriage was disorienting, because the inside was clearly larger than the outside. What looked like a four-seater carriage from the outside had stretched expansively into a gaudy bedroom that easily fit the three new occupants and four surveyors already inside. Banners and fine art hung from the walls, and a glimmering chandelier of gold hung overhead, gently swaying as the carriage rocked under their weight. The four surveyors, including Nikolao, were huddled against the far wall, wary of Jarod and Filgrin, but the tall man stayed close, bowing as well as it could in its stooped form to greet them.

  “Apologies for the roughness.” The tall man’s voice was quiet and echoey, and Jarod imagined it reverberating inside his chest several times before finally being allowed out his mouth. “I would wish my assistance as repayment.”

  “Yes,” said Jarod, a questioning tone tinging the edge of the word. “Thanks for saving us.”

  “You are Jarod,” the tall man said. “And I have seen you as well, though your name is still foreign to me. I am Tex’ana, a sight servant for King Casimir.”

  “I s’pose you’ve been watching all these events in silence then,” Filgrin interjected.

  Tex’ana swiveled his head to fix their eyes on Filgrin. “I have been silent, as was my duty.”

  “But now ya see how dangerous it is out there. See how important it is for you to get involved.”

  “Indeed, the situation has proven sufficient for my association.”

  Jarod allowed the conversation to filter through to the back of his mind, staying just barely aware of Filgrin introducing the two of them. His ears perked up slightly at the unfamiliar title of sight servant, but his focus was squarely on the wound in his leg, which was still leaking blood. The stress of battle, the growing burning pain, and being back in captivity were making him light-headed.

  Jarod sat down heavily on the ground, avoiding bending his leg as much as possible, and drew sharp breath through his teeth at the fresh sensation of stabbing.

  Thankfully, Filgrin took the initiative. “Can you do anything about his leg? I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

  “The necessity of your repayment is acknowledged and rejected,” Tex’ana said mysteriously. “One of my concoctions will stymie the pain and knit the wound, but it will not give him life back. That must be done on his own.”

  Without moving from his position, Tex’ana fully extended a long arm out to grab a bag from inside a cabinet on the wall. He brought it up close to his face, elbows splayed out wildly to accommodate his search, and finally pulled out a vial of cloudy grey liquid. He took out the dropper, and dripped a splash directly onto Jarod’s wound.

  The pain instantly dissipated wherever the liquid touched, but the sensation that replaced it was scarcely preferable. Instead of pain, Jarod felt his skin begin to move. He could feel as sections of his flesh began to move independently, flowing back together to seal the wound. It felt like a thousand cramps, each the size of a bug, were crawling through his muscles, working in hivemind to create a simulacrum of his leg.

  In just a few seconds though, the transformation was complete. Jarod didn’t move at first, looking down at his leg as though it was a foreign entity. He reached out, a little afraid to touch it for fear the sensation might return, but it felt normal. He could feel his fingers poke and prod just like before, and when he experimentally flexed his leg, the muscles responded just as expected.

  Grievous injury cured

  Health: 1/5

  “The sensation is one to faze many a new subject,” said Tex’ana. “Your standard function has now resumed.”

  Jarod carefully bent his leg, still cautious to put weight on it, but stood up without issue. “Thank you,” he said.

  Tex’ana cocked his head to the side. “But what else would I have done? I’ve seen your events unfold, watched the entirely puzzling response to your provocation. I have the means to cure you, so it is only natural that I would. You humans have the most curious unstated conventions.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Yes, we humans… You mentioned something about being the king’s sight servant. What is that exactly?”

  “Merely one of, not the sight servant,” said Tex’ana. “We are eyes and deputies for the king. Our duty lies where danger and importance mingle. We preside over events where the king would wish to be but cannot for either the time away from the throne, or for the peril of the task. It is our place to watch until such time as we are needed. When the trifleys emerged, so too did my independence.”

  “So it is them,” said Filgrin gravely. “I’d’ve guessed from the explosives it might be ‘em. Never got a good look at the buggers before.”

  “You’ve experienced this in your village before?”

  “Not here. Long time ago, in a place a long ways off. But I’ve seen ‘em. Seen what they can do.”

  “I would request your assistance then. It is imperative that the king come to learn of the nature of your troubles. The potential danger such foes possess is fearsome indeed, especially so now that they have been activated.”

  “If they’re such an issue, why do you go kill them off now?” said Jarod. “It doesn’t seem like they’re much of a threat to you.”

  Tex’ana paused, rolling his head all the way around before responding. “My strength may be sufficient to dispose of the trifleys aboveground, but their hive lies deep underground. Somewhere in that ravine is their breeding ground where many thousands more live, and where they manufacture their explosives. Now that sunlight has been made known to the creatures, their population will expand rapidly. We will require a significant team to dispose of them properly. That is why I would ask you to return to Chath with us, that you might describe your experience with them.”

  “Well hold up now,” said Filgrin. “Just ‘cause I know some things doesn’t mean I wanna head all the way to Chath with you. We’re just here trying to save a friend.”

  The sight servant made the same odd gesture with his head, and then turned a palm up, pointing towards Jarod. “If both of you are agreeable to describing your experience in Chath, then I will have the charges against you dropped.”

  “Now hold on a minute,” Nikolao spoke up, stepping forward to join the conversation about their erstwhile prisoner. “This man has already stood trial. I’ve passed my judgement. He is to pay for his crimes.”

  Tex’ana slowly turned around to regard the leader of the surveyors, as though remembering that he was here for the first time. “Your judgement has been passed, yet it is not final. The king’s authority extends to myself in such situations, and that authority shall include the power of pardons.”

  Nikolao stood up straighter, mustering every bit of authority he had. “Tex’ana, you are our driver. You have no such power.”

  “I am your driver no longer. My authority has been initiated, and my actions are on behalf of the king in name and power until the situation is sufficiently resolved.”

  The surveyor seemed to realize that his authority was not as great as he had believed, and shrank back a step. “I didn’t mean to overstep, it’s just… it’s not fair! I’ve already judged him at the trial.”

  “Fairness is a concept you humans are always so peculiar about. Seemingly, your rationale is lacking on the subject.”

  Nikolao sufficiently mollified, Tex’ana turned back to Jarod and Filgrin. “Are these terms agreeable to you?”

  Jarod saw Filgrin glance his way, deferring the decision to the person it would most affect. Having his name officially cleared would be nice. It would mean he wouldn’t have to run from the surveyors by the time the trifley attack had been dealt with, and that he wouldn’t have to hide every time someone official came back into town. At the same time though, he wasn’t eager to get back in a carriage with his captors to be taken to Chath. He had no way of guaranteeing his own freedom aside from the word of Tex’ana, and he had no idea of how much the creature could be trusted. Certainly his moral stance hadn’t compelled him to do anything when he saw the mockery of justice that had transpired yesterday.

  In the end, Jarod figured that another test of the sight servant’s trustworthiness was in order. “We’ll go with you to Chath in exchange for the pardon, but I have one other request for you. We’re looking for our friend, somewhere in town on this side of the bridge. Help us find him and get him to safety, then I’ll agree to your terms.”

  “I find these conditions permissible,” said Tex’ana. “We shall endeavor to extract him now. You shall lead me to where you believe he is.”

  Nikolao jumped into the conversation again. “Wait, you’re following them outside? You can’t just leave us here.”

  “Indeed, it will be safest if you accompany us for the task.”

  The other surveyors took the opportunity to step forward, finally motivated enough to inject themselves into the conversation.

  “You can’t possibly leave us alone here. Our safety is your responsibility.”

  “They’re just commoners, they don’t matter.”

  “I’ll be filing a formal complaint upon our arrival back in Chath. You’ll rue the day you crossed my family.”

  Tex’ana calmly listened to their complaints, his dark black eyes staring each of them down in turn. Finally, after one of them shouted, “well, what do you have to say for yourself?” the tall, imposing almost-man was given a chance to respond.

  “The charge of this sight servant was never to ensure your safety. It has always been to enact the king’s will in times of necessity. I have abided with the role you placed before me, as my services in my titular capacity were not yet required. The circumstances have changed. Now, my proper role has become apparent, and I adopt its duty in its full capacity.”

  Tex’ana made the rolling head motion again, then looked to the surveyors. “I will still protect you if it is within my power to do so. This requires your accompaniment on our mission. Step this way, if you please.” Without allowing for further cavil, a long arm stretched out to open the carriage door, and the sight servant beckoned Jarod outside.

  Wanting to put on a show of confidence to spite the surveyors, Jarod snatched a longsword from the table and strode to the door. “Well? Any of you louts brave enough to follow?” he said, looking Nikolao in the eye as a challenge.

  Half the surveyors took an instinctive step back, and all of them looked to Tex’ana in fear. A jibbering cry and a distant explosion was all the reinforcement they needed. Another retreating step landed most of them flat against the back wall, cowering from what they imagined to be the trifley’s imminent attack. Nikolao himself looked torn between wanting to rally his fellow gentry, and wanting to join them in hiding. His mouth agape, the lead surveyor kept glancing between Tex’ana and his quailing comrades. Finally, he recognized the folly of any motivational speech he might give, and his shoulders drooped in defeat.

  Jarod shook his head in disgust, though secretly, he was pleased that he had the moral high ground. Without another word, he stepped through the door with his newly acquired longsword.

  Jarod’s body felt strong, even though the messages he’d seen when Tex’ana had healed him made it seem otherwise. He was glad to see Filgrin quickly follow him outside with his bow, poking an eye around the side towards the bridge. No other trifleys seemed to be running out of the chasm, but beyond their position and into town the direction they needed to travel, a band of them carried wooden kegs on their shoulders, shouting in their strange language. There would be a fight ahead of them.

  Jarod was glad for their mysterious companion. If Tex’ana’s earlier performance was anything to go by, he would prove an indomitable companion on their way to track down Wilfurd.

  Long arms stretched out the carriage door first, as Tex’ana’s enormous legs unfolded, stretching smoothly to their full length.

  “Just one moment,” said Tex’ana. “You shall lead the way, but only upon the arrival of our last member.”

  Jarod’s eyes narrowed, and the grip on his sword tightened as out from the carriage stepped a very nervous looking Nikolao.