I wait until the funeral procession begins before I rejoin the villagers. Taren stands in the back of the crowd and nods to me when I walk up beside him.

  Even in the low light of dusk, I’m certain Edrine spots me as I approach. He leads the procession, a torch held high in his hand. Ferlon and his family follow the cleric as they leave the village square.

  Each family of Ashgrove carries a single torch, even Marlene. Taren and I follow, hands empty, trailing behind Orlen’s family. Raimi glances back at me, her eyes showing that same confusion she’s worn since late winter.

  The graveyard stands on the southern outskirts of the village. Encircled by nothing but tall grass and the southern forest, there’s a simple reverence to the grounds. Painted wood panels decorate each grave.

  Edrine guides the villagers to the edge of a freshly dug hole. A thick wooden panel sticks from the ground at the head of it.

  Ponel Herdsman

  May your vitality return to Mother Life.

  Once everyone in attendance circles around the end of the grave, Edrine begins his speech. Taren and I stand behind some others, but I can still see the cleric through the gaps in the crowd.

  “Children of the Mother Life,” Edrine begins. “Let us all remember who we are, especially in a time when we lose a child or youth.” He raises his torch above his head. “We are all nothing but dirt at the end of our lives, our short experience given value by the [Skills] we are blessed with. Good…or evil.”

  Nox paces under my shirt, his restless energy reflecting my own feelings. I don’t mean to push my emotions onto my spirit friend, but it leaks from me.

  “May we remember,” Edrine continues. “To trust only in the [Skills] she offers, and not powers of another breed.” He turns his eyes on me and remains silent for a long stretch.

  Some people glance back to see what the cleric stares at—most of them with some apprehension at the sight of me.

  It isn’t until Ferlon’s youngest climbs higher on his father’s shoulder to see me that anything changes.

  “Pa, it’s that demon boy,” Pell says. There’s more venom in his tone that I would expect from a five-year-old. His voice then changes to fearful. “Is he here to hurt us again?”

  Ferlon sets his son down as the crowd parts between their family and me. Taren stays by my side, but even Marlene and Orlen’s family slide away to give the grieving family a clear view.

  “Come to agonize my family, little demon?” Ferlon asks.

  Though Edrine’s face remains without expression, his eyes dance with triumph. I don’t know what lies he has whispered in Ferlon’s ear since I ran into the forest.

  Taren bumps me and I bow my head. “I’ve come to offer condolences. I wish I could’ve done more—”

  “More to curse us?” says Brisa, Ponel’s mother. She steps forward. Their next eldest, Seri, only twelve, joins her mother.

  Pell has found a rock and throws it at me. It falls short. Seri grabs the boy’s hand so he doesn’t get too close. All the while, the rest of the village watch us. Many carry resentment in their posture and faces. Some wear no emotion at all. A handful share a look of sadness, Raimi especially.

  She tenses, as though to step forward, but her father holds her back.

  Taren shakes with anger, but contains himself. He must keep his own advice. Let them rage against me, let them exhaust their emotions. See that I mean no harm.

  “I heal people,” I say, though my quiet voice trembles. “I want to help people. I’m still young and new to my [Skills].”

  It sounded better in my head, but it’s the best I can come up with under the glare of so many people.

  “[Skills] indeed.” Edrine steps from his spot at the head of the grave. “And what [Skills] do you carry, young creature?”

  Voices murmur. It’s not polite to ask after someone’s [Skills]. Others ask themselves what [Skills] a demon might wield.

  I cannot respond to the question.

  Some take the silence as an affirmation, though no one should be required to share their [Skills].

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  And as if there isn’t enough blame, my good friend, the nameless raven, lands on my head. I swat my hand at the bird, and it caws as it flies away. Edrine nods, understanding on his face.

  Words come next. From the Ferlon family first, then Honep and Brennic. Soon I’m listening to name calling and curses.

  “—was a demon all along—-”

  “—should’ve known better than to let something like that into the village—”

  Something hits my arm. A rock.

  I glance at the crowd but don’t see who might’ve thrown it.

  A second one grazes my cheek.

  Taren steps forward, his feet glowing. He tries to stand in front of me, but I brush him aside and step closer to the crowd. One child gasps and huddles back against their mother.

  I feel the urge to [Leech Grip] my moss to heal the cut on my cheek, but I let the blood trickle down and drip off my chin. I step closer to the lights, arms outstretched.

  “I only want to help,” I say. I wish I knew how to add weight to my words, add emotion, to offer some sincerity, but my voice comes out even. “I will grow better at healing.”

  I see Denet’s gaze on me. He clings to his mother. He mouths something, pleading with Marlene. Marlene’s eyes are strained with tears, but she does not move from her spot.

  Another rock hits my chest and I falter mid-step. Elder Rorahn shouts something about being a peaceful village, but is ignored when another stone clips my shoulder. Nox hisses in pain and climbs to the back of my shirt for safety.

  Raimi is the first to break from the crowd.

  She walks forward, eyes on me, tears trailing down her face. There’s a fire in those eyes, bright against the glow of the torches around her.

  The shouts stop when she enters the space between the villagers and me. Silence continues until she reaches my side.

  “I know who you are,” she whispers to me. “You’re Sevorn. You’re of Ashgrove. No matter what people say.” She takes a breath, then turns to face the crowd.

  Edrine’s eyes narrow at the sight of little Raimi, only eleven, standing strong before dozens of angry faces.

  “This,” she says, leveling her small arm at me, “is Sevorn. He never had a village until he came to ours.” Her arms tremble as she speaks. “He healed me. He healed Denet. He protected us from howlers.” She turns her gaze from one side of the crowd to the other. “What more can we ask of him?”

  Taren steps up beside her. She smiles at him. They block the villagers from accosting me. I fear it won’t stop anything.

  Then Denet breaks through the crowd, pushing between Orlen and Brennic before stopping midway. He glances around, nervous suddenly, then closes his eyes and runs right into Taren.

  Marlene walks through next, knocking Honep aside as she does. Orlen and his wife follow shortly afterward. What surprises everyone is Dargan. He stomps away from his family and stands by Taren.

  “The boy’s just a lad…” the blacksmith says. “I ain’t going to be a part of hurting a child.”

  The murmurs rise. Lines have been drawn. Elder Rorahn stands to the side, uncertain. He isn’t supposed to take sides in village drama.

  “Let’s leave the lad alone now,” Rorahn says. “You’ve all had your say.” He turns to face Ferlon. “We’d best continue our respects to your son before the night’s chill comes on.”

  Ferlon finds my eyes among the mass of bodies. “Only once the demon has left.”

  Rorahn looks at me, a plea in his eyes. I can do no more here.

  I turn and walk away. Taren joins me. The others stay to finish the funeral.

  “You’re scrapping brave,” Taren says as we walk in darkness. “To think Edrine has it out for you so bad. That guy’s got a real problem.”

  I [Leech Grip] to heal up, still thinking about the raven. After how much it’s helped me, why would it arrive with such ill omens. Maybe Edrine’s right…but I’m not going to take it sitting down.

  ~~~

  [Detect Decay] has reached Level 7.

  Once all the villagers settle down for the night, I go about my nightly duties, cleansing the village of decay where I can find it.

  Taren joins me. Late.

  “I’ve been talking with Orlen,” Taren says. “It’s going to be difficult, with so many in the village convinced you're some kind of demon. You shouldn’t be alone anymore.”

  [Detect Decay] leads us towards Ferlon’s home, near the graveyard. I stop midway.

  “Maybe you should stay with me,” Taren says, “until this all settles down and we can get people off this nonsense.” He notices the direction we’re walking and shakes his head. “Let’s not get too close to Ferlon’s home, not tonight.”

  “But what if—”

  “Not worth it.” Taren turns me around. “I heard that Ferlon and Edrine are planning some kind of night watch.” He glances at the quiet homes. “Hopefully they don’t start up tonight, but it might be best if we stopped walking around all night.”

  “And leave the village to rot?” I frown. “If I can’t keep it down, it’ll destroy the village. And then it won’t matter what you, or Raimi, or Marlene says. Because the others will be right. I’m bringing decay to this place.”

  Taren bumps me. “You’re not still on about that, are you?” He scoffs. “Ridiculous. There’s no way a level seven can bring the decay like this, especially unknowingly.”

  I shrug. He didn’t see the golden mages trying to destroy me. I still don’t know why they targeted me.

  “About that shed of yours,” Taren says. “Anyone could pop in and hurt you.” He rubs his arm. “Not that they’d do anything serious, at least not unless they’re riled up like tonight. But they might toss cold water on your loft, bring rats in to eat your food—” He sighs. “Just…let’s have you at my house. There’s room, even if it’s small, it’s bigger than your shed.”

  I shake my head.

  “I’m already dragged into it all,” Taren continues. “If that’s what you're worried about. They saw me all standing at your side since the—”

  A thrum of powerful decay knocks into me. Something different. Something energizing. I don’t hear the rest of what Taren says.

  I spin around to face Ferlon’s place. No, the graveyard. A new pulsing, faint from this distance, something I’ve never felt before.

  Taren groans when he sees my expression.