Chapter 61: Boiled Alive

Chapter 61: Boiled Alive Orkell walked through the newly settled village, the moon a sliver of light cutting through the thick canopy overhead. The people had finally found rest. The huts, once abandoned, were now filled with the low hum of tired voices and the soft breathing of sleeping children. Yet, Orkell felt no peace. His tail twitched with a nervous energy he couldn’t shake. He moved past the well and saw Elder Lamna sitting on the steps of a small porch, staring out into the moonlit fog. "Orkell," she said, her voice soft but alert, "you should get some sleep. You and your men have barely closed your eyes since we got here." He sat down beside her, the worn wood cool against his scales. "We’re on guard," he replied, his gaze sweeping the quiet street. "The village was abandoned in a hurry. We have to be on alert until we know why. We’ll take turns." He paused, looking at her. "Why are you still awake? I thought you’d be asleep." "I can’t sleep, for now, I’m just relieved," she said, a faint smile on her lips. "To see them all with a roof over their heads, to hear them settle in. They can call this place home now, for a while at least." Orkell’s face was a mask of worry. He thought of the claw marks and the abandoned supplies. He could feel the weight of his fear—that his people had escaped one nightmare only to walk into another. Lamna seemed to sense his turmoil. "I know you’re concerned, Orkell," she said, her smile fading. "But the people like it here. There’s no better place. We were lucky to find this village, and I don’t think they would agree to leave tomorrow, even if we had a safer place to go." Orkell sighed, the sound escaping him in a long, weary breath. "I know, Elder. I just... we’ve been through hell. If we lost anyone now, after all this, because of this one decision, I don’t think I could endure it." The thought of another burial, another cry of grief, made his stomach tighten into a knot. He had seen too much death. Lamna gently laid a hand on his arm, her touch a grounding presence. "That’s just life, Orkell. We can’t predict what might happen. We just move on. One cannot defy the forces of fate." Orkell was silent for a moment, absorbing her words. Then, he reached into his pouch and pulled out the bundle wrapped in a rag. He placed it between them. "Yrix found this up on the hill. He said there’s a spring up there. This might be the reason the whole forest smells so bad." Lamna unwrapped a corner of the cloth and peered at the crumbling yellow rock. "Is this gold, or something valuable?" she asked. "I don’t think so," Orkell said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Gold doesn’t smell like horse dung. It’s probably worthless." Lamna smiled faintly. "Nothing is truly worthless, Orkell. We just haven’t found its use yet. It might not be valuable to us, but it might be to others." She handed the rock back to him. He stared at it in his hand, the strange, sickly odor still clinging to it. "I’ll see what I can do," he said. "I heard rumors of a passing caravan a week ago, a small market up in the hills. They said it’s run by an undead." He looked up at Lamna, a flicker of genuine surprise in his eyes. "That part really surprised me." Lamna nodded, her gaze distant. "Me too. The tale of the three kingdoms—the human empire, the demon king’s army fighting each other for a long time, and then an undead appearing in the north—those were just stories we told to fill the gaps in our history. Stories that were made to explain why we had peace. But with an undead suddenly appearing, people might think those old tales are true after all." "Do you think they’re going to turn everyone into an undead and enslave the living?" Orkell asked, his voice low with a real fear. "We don’t know," Lamna said, her eyes meeting his. "But why don’t you go and see for yourself?" Orkell’s resolve returned. The people needed food. The guards needed proper supplies. This rock, worthless as it seemed, might be their only currency. "I might just do that," he said. "I’ll try to sell this chunk of rock." "There are always opportunities, Orkell," Lamna said, a warmth entering her voice. "Just be positive for once. And you might find information about the others." Orkell lowered his head, a heavy silence falling between them. "Yeah," he said, the word a promise. "I’ll try." Morning came early, and the village stirred with a tentative life. A thick, cold fog still blanketed the ground, but streaks of sunlight pierced the canopy, illuminating the trees in a serene, almost sacred light. Birds sang, their calls a sharp contrast to the silent gloom of the previous days. But even this beauty was tainted by the lingering smell of rotten eggs rolling down from the nearby hills. Still, the people had roofs over their heads. They had time to adapt to this new place they now proudly called home. Orkell, standing at the center of the village, watched his guards. He had tasked Brel with a crucial job. Brel dipped a finger into a wooden bucket of water pulled from the well and tasted it, his face a careful mask. "It’s water, alright," he said, nodding. "It’s not tainted." "Good," Orkell said, a deep sense of relief washing over him. "If the water here was corrupted by that smell, I don’t think we’d be prepared for the effects. Watch the people, Brel. See if there are any symptoms from drinking it, just to be safe. And remind everyone to close the well after they use it." Brel nodded. Orkell took one last look around, then turned toward the village gate. "I’ll check on that spring Yrix found, with the men," he said. At the gate, Yrix and five other kobold guards were waiting. "Lead the way, Yrix," Orkell said. "Yep," Yrix replied, his tail wagging excitedly. "I promise you, that place is perfect for a cold morning. The steam just warms you up. Maybe we can all take a bath in it." "I’m not taking a bath and smelling like that afterwards," Korin grumbled. "In fact, I’d rather not bathe at all." Verris smirked at Yrix. "You could have scored some points with the ladies, Yrix, but you smelled like someone who just swam in a pond full of feces. They ignored you instead." The others chuckled, the familiar banter a small comfort in this strange place. When they arrived at the hill, a cloud of steam crawled on the ground. The spring was wide, its water boiling. Verris pinched his nose, and the other men did the same. Yrix, however, just breathed it in. "This smells worse than I could have imagined," Verris said through his nose. "You’d be boiled alive if you swam in that," Korin added, a grim certainty in his voice. Rass, who had seen Yrix’s earlier strange resilience, just shook his head. "Yrix might just have a different sense of smell than us." "Hey, Yrix is unique in his own way," Verris said, laughing. "Hey, it’s not that bad, you know," Yrix said, a confused look on his face when everyone just stared at him. "What?" Orkell shook his head. "Anyway, we don’t have enough rope to carry back the chunks. It’s too large," he said, moving toward the edge of the spring. "Instead, use your spears to pry out the smaller yellow chunks on the edges and bring them down." "Why, captain?" they asked. "We need a reliable food source. Hunting is too risky right now. We can’t be sure if we’ll return with something or not. We’ll try to sell this." Verris scoffed. "Who’d buy this stinky piece of shit?" He poked a crumbling chunk of rock with his spear. "Just do it and hurry," Orkell said, the fumes now making his eyes sting. "My eyes are starting to hurt just being in this place." Korin shrugged. "Fair enough." The men then got to work, prodding at the rock and breaking off manageable pieces. Meanwhile, Yrix, with his eccentricity, just walked into the boiling water and dived in. The kobolds were stunned. "Help him! Rescue him!" Orkell shouted, but the guards just stared in shock. Then, Yrix emerged, his face full of delight. "Woooohhh, that’s refreshing!" he yelled. Orkell sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I’m going to go crazy," Verris muttered "If you want to die, just tell us, you piece of shit and I’ll kill you myself." Yrix, still confused by their reactions, just said, "It’s not that bad, you know. It’s hot and refreshing. You should try it." "Are you going to help us or what?" Orkell said, trying to ignore the impossible thing he was seeing. "Yeah," Yrix said, and he rose from the water. "I think I could swim in that all day. Wanna join me?" "Yeah, no thank you," Korin said, shaking his head. Meanwhile, Rass, ever the veteran, cautiously dipped his hand into the water. Korin, seeing this, said, "Oh, please don’t entertain him, Rass." Rass looked up. "It’s really not that bad. If you can ignore the smell, this might just be a perfect place to bathe in." Yrix grinned, a wide, triumphant smile. "Right?" Orkell watched Yrix and Rass, his head spinning. Nothing about this place made sense. The myths, the smells, the abandoned village, the boiling spring... and now, a kobold who could swim in it. He held the yellow rock in his hand, the promise of a trade his only solid ground in this swirling fog of strangeness. He looked at the hill, where the fog was still thicker, heavier, and knew their journey was far from over. This place was a mystery, and he was determined to unravel it.