**Age 10-11 — Two Weeks After Lysara's Discovery**
The settlement appears abandoned.
That's the first sign that something is wrong.
Settlements don't look abandoned during daytime unless people are hiding or dead. There should be smoke from cooking fires, people working in fields, children playing in streets. Instead, we approach Millbrook Settlement in eerie silence.
Elder Stoneheart authorized this mission personally. "Verify Lysara's theories," he said. "Confirm the corruption patterns. Report back with data."
What he didn't say, but what we understood: *Don't get killed.*
The three of us—Kaela, Lysara, and I—move carefully through the settlement's outer streets. Captain Felric wanted to send armed guards with us, but Lysara convinced him that a large force would be too visible, too aggressive. Better to send three scouts who can investigate subtly.
Now I'm wondering if Lysara's tactical thinking was actually correct.
"There," Kaela whispers, pointing to the settlement's center square.
People. Dozens of them. They're not dead. They're gathered around the well, but they're not drawing water. They're standing in a loose circle, staring at something beyond our line of sight.
We move closer, using the buildings for cover. Master Dren taught us to move in shadows, to use terrain for concealment. It's a lesson that's proving invaluable.
As we get closer, I see what they're staring at.
The void corruption.
It's not like the corruption in the expedition zone. That was spreading—tendrils of darkness consuming the earth. This is different. This is concentrated. Focused. It's like someone has carved a circle of pure void into the ground itself, and it's growing slowly, deliberately, like it's following some kind of architectural plan.
And inside the circle, there's movement. Something that's not quite solid but isn't fully void either. It's like watching a thought take almost-physical form.
"That's not random corruption," Lysara breathes, already pulling out her research materials. Her hands are shaking. Not from fear—from excitement. From recognition. "That's intentional. That's a *construction*."
"A construction of what?" Kaela asks, her hand moving to her sword hilt.
"I don't know. But look at the geometry. Look at the precision. This isn't void spreading naturally. This is void being *shaped* into a specific form."
An old woman in the gathered crowd turns and sees us.
She doesn't scream or run. She just stands there, watching us with eyes that have seen too much.
"Don't come closer," she says quietly. "Please don't come closer."
We freeze.
"What's happening here?" I ask carefully.
"It started three days ago," the woman says. "Just appeared in the square. At first we thought it was corruption, that we should fight it or flee from it. But it's not attacking. It's just... growing. Growing in this pattern. And our people, they can't leave. Every time someone tries to walk away from the settlement, they get sick. Dizzy. Can't breathe. They come back."
Lysara steps forward, her researcher's mind already categorizing, analyzing. "Has anyone touched it? The corruption?"
"One man tried," another settler says—a younger man with grief etched into his face. "Tried to destroy it yesterday. Tried to scatter it with tools. His hand touched the edge and..." He trails off, looking at the woman. "She was his mother."
The old woman nods slightly. "It consumed him. Not killed him. Consumed. Like he was being absorbed into it. We pulled him back, but..." She looks down at her hands. "He was screaming. And then he stopped."
I feel the curse stir inside me. It recognizes the void. *Yes,* it whispers. *Merge. Join. Become whole.*
"No," I mutter, pushing the curse back down.
Kaela grabs my arm. "You okay?"
"The curse is reacting to it. It wants to—" I don't finish. I don't need to.
"Then you stay away from it," Kaela says firmly. "We'll investigate from distance."
We spend hours documenting the structure. Lysara measures angles, records dimensions, sketches the pattern. The void corruption doesn't respond to observation. It just continues its slow, deliberate growth.
And the settlers just watch. They're trapped here, unable to leave, forced to watch their settlement be consumed by something they don't understand.
"How long until it covers the entire settlement?" I ask Lysara.
She calculates quickly. "At current growth rate? Approximately seven to eight days. Maybe nine if the growth slows."
"We can evacuate them," Kaela says immediately.
"They say they can't leave," Lysara points out. "The sickness prevents it."
"Then we carry them," Kaela responds. "If the sickness is magical in nature, then it might not apply if they're unconscious or sedated."
It's a soldier's solution. Direct. Practical. Maybe even impossible, but trying anyway.
The old woman who first spoke to us approaches. "Are you from Verdwood? Are you here to save us?"
I look at her—really look at her. She has kind eyes. Tired eyes. Eyes that have already accepted the possibility that she won't survive this.
"We're here to help," I say, which isn't exactly answering her question but isn't lying either.
**The Evacuation**
Getting the settlers out of Millbrook turns out to be more complex than Kaela's simple plan.
The sickness isn't just magical—it's triggered by the intention to leave. If someone tries to walk out of the settlement with the intent to flee, the sickness overwhelms them. But if someone walks out unconscious, the effect is reduced. Not eliminated, but manageable.
We send Kaela back to Verdwood with a message for Captain Felric. We need sedatives, we need transportation, we need people to help move settlers who will be mostly unconscious.
While Kaela's gone, Lysara and I work with the settlers to explain what's going to happen. We try to be honest without being terrifying. Most of them are terrified anyway.
The old woman—her name is Margaret—helps us prepare the others. She's lost her son to the void corruption, but she's not drowning in grief. She's practical. She moves through the settlement helping people gather what they need, explaining the plan in a calm voice that seems to help.
"How long have you lived here?" I ask her as we work.
"Forty-three years," she says. "Came here with my husband when we were young. We built our life here. Raised our son here." She pauses, looking at the growing void corruption in the center of the square. "I never thought I'd see it end like this."
"It might not be the end," I say. "We're getting you out of here."
"The settlement will be consumed," she says simply. "Even if we escape, Millbrook will be gone. That's still an ending."
I don't have words for that. She's right. We're saving the people, but we're losing the place. Both are true. Both matter.
Kaela returns with supplies and ten guards. We begin the evacuation at nightfall.
The sedatives work, sort of. The settlers don't wake, but they're not fully unconscious either—they're in a strange in-between state. Half-aware. They moan softly as we carry them. Some cry in their sleep.
We're almost done. Almost everyone is transported. The old woman, Margaret, is one of the last to be evacuated.
"Wait," she says, grabbing my hand. "There's something you need to know. About why the void came here."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"There was a cult member in our settlement. Someone who lived here, worked here, seemed normal. But three weeks ago, he disappeared. The night after, the corruption started appearing in the patterns you see now." She squeezes my hand. "I think he brought this here deliberately. I think the void didn't just appear randomly. I think he *called* it."
My stomach drops.
"You're certain?" Lysara asks, already making mental notes.
"As certain as I can be. He was in the cult. I recognized the symbol he wore before he covered it up." Margaret's eyes are tired but clear. "You're fighting something larger than you realize. The void isn't just spreading. Someone is deliberately placing it. Constructing it. Growing it."
We carry Margaret to the transport wagon and load her carefully. As we're securing the final settler, a scream cuts through the night.
One of the guards has collapsed.
He was helping carry a settler, and he stepped too close to the void corruption. Now he's on the ground, convulsing, his skin turning black as void energy spreads through his body.
"Get him away from it!" Kaela shouts.
We try. But it's too late. The void has already taken hold. We drag him away from the corruption, but the black spreading through his body doesn't stop. It just keeps going, consuming him from the inside out.
In minutes, he's gone.
Not dead. Consumed. There's no body left to bury. Just a spot of darker earth where void corruption had spread through a living person.
The silence after is absolute.
"We need to leave," Lysara says quietly. "Now."
We load the remaining settlers and begin the journey back to Verdwood. The guards are shaken. Kaela is furious—furious at herself for letting someone get too close, furious at the void for being so fast, furious at everything.
I'm just numb.
**Three Days Later**
The settlers have been integrated into Verdwood's refugee housing. Some are recovering well. Some are still sedated, their bodies adjusting to being separated from whatever force was keeping them trapped.
Margaret survived. She's in the healing house, and she's been talking to Miren about what she saw.
Which is how Miren found me to tell me that the cult isn't just spreading void corruption—they're deliberately cultivating it.
"We need to tell the council," Miren says.
"They already know," I respond. "Elder Stoneheart sent us to verify Lysara's theories. This confirms them."
"Then they need to understand what confirmation means," Miren says sharply. "It means the cult has people embedded everywhere. It means they're executing some kind of plan that requires deliberate void cultivation. It means the threat isn't random. It's organized. It's intentional. It's—"
She stops because she sees the look on my face.
"You already understand that," she says quietly.
"Yes."
"Then why do you look so defeated?"
I sit down. My hands are shaking slightly. "Because understanding it doesn't help. Understanding that something is wrong doesn't make it less wrong. We evacuated one settlement. There are dozens of others. Hundreds potentially. And we can't be everywhere. We can't save everyone."
Miren sits beside me and takes my hand.
"No," she agrees. "You can't. That's not a failure. That's just reality. You're children. You've done more than most adults ever will. But you can't save everyone. That's not your responsibility."
"Then what is my responsibility?"
"To do what you can. To protect those you can reach. To keep learning so that tomorrow you're better equipped to handle the threats." She squeezes my hand. "And to accept that some people will suffer despite your best efforts. That's not failure. That's just the cost of living in a world with real problems."
**That Evening — The Rooftop**
Kaela arrives angry.
She storms onto the rooftop where Lysara and I are sitting, and her fury is a physical presence.
"That guard died because I didn't position people properly," she snaps. "Because I didn't account for the void corruption's reach. Because I made a tactical error and someone paid for it with their life."
"Kaela—" Lysara starts.
"No. Don't comfort me. Don't tell me it's not my fault. Because it *is* my fault. I made the decisions. I positioned people. I didn't ensure adequate distance from the corruption. That guard is dead because of *me*."
She sits down hard, her warrior's composure cracking.
"I've trained for years to protect people," she says, and her voice is shaking now. "And when it actually mattered, I failed. I got someone killed."
I move closer to her. "You also saved forty-seven people. You also evacuated an entire settlement despite the risk. You also figured out a way to bypass magical traps through sedation. You did that. All of it."
"And one person still died."
"Yes," I say quietly. "One person did. And that matters. That should matter. But it doesn't erase all the people you saved."
Kaela's composure breaks entirely. She starts crying—harsh, angry tears—and Lysara pulls her close without hesitation. I settle on her other side, and we hold her while she grieves.
This is what being a hero actually looks like. Not triumph. Not glory. Just the weight of knowing you did your best and it still wasn't enough for everyone.
"We'll do better next time," Lysara says finally. "We'll understand the void's mechanics better. We'll have better protection. We'll—"
"We'll still lose people," Kaela interrupts. "That's what we've learned, right? That's what this settlement taught us. No matter how smart Lysara is, no matter how good at planning, no matter how powerful Ren's curse is—people are going to die. People are going to be consumed by void corruption. And we can't stop all of it."
Lysara is quiet for a long moment. Then: "No. We can't. But we can try to stop as much as we can. And knowing that we can't save everyone just means we save *who we can*."
The three of us sit together as the night deepens around us, watching ley lines pulse overhead with their patient, eternal light. Beneath us, Verdwood sleeps. In the healing house, forty-seven people recover from their captivity. In the center of their former settlement, void corruption continues to grow.
We can't stop it. We couldn't stop all of it.
But we tried. And some people survived because we tried.
Maybe that has to be enough.