Horde Massing | Short Stories of the Anhult Wildlands

Horde Massing

My 1st Wildlands one-shot is published! Check Out Mystery of Thorngage Manor

Written by George Sanders

Dust filled the air. Its dry and mealy particles glommed to my lips. No amount of licking could clean them. I remember thinking if only I had grabbed my water, I could have lasted longer. My eyes burned. I wiped away the dust and tears while I hid under the porch of a boarding house. The sun beat down overhead but the dust cast a shadow on everything. The hottest summer on record the heralds said but the weather wasn't the problem now.

 

Predatory, rapacious, and covetous monsters owned the streets. It was called massing. The enchantment that captured one mind would latch on to another nearby, then another and another. As a horde grew those caught in its grasp became aggressive and violent toward anyone outside of the enchantment's influence.

 

This turned charished loved ones and companions into beasts. My sister told me of the massing events. We tracked them with colorful pins on a map in the back of her wagon. The infected would gather together to magnify their psychic ability. Whether you got too close or their range expanded, once you were under their control- that was the end. The visions jumped from one brain to the next, urging them to submit. Tricking you to submit.

 

No one knew how the events started. Well, until I found myself into the middle of one.

 

 

A basket dropped to the ground. The woman that had been holding it stared into the distance. A man ran into a group of people, unable to orient himself. Some people gasp by a stand with melons, their companion shook like she was having a seizure. Then a cart crashed into a stand. The dispersion had begun.

 

My sister had told me I was sensitive. At the time, I was ten and had not realized the scope of her diagnosis. I could see the sparkling fog of the enchantment move across the market. Before long the entire market cried out in synchrony. Many of the people fell to the ground holding their head. Their auras changed, dimmed. They pulsed in time with the sparkles.

 

As they got up and raced up and down the dirt streets of the town that is what kicked up the dust. It was a lot of dust. So many feet runnning, hunting for anyone not under the enchantment. Something was wrong with me, I heard the enchantment's call to submit but felt no pain. The voice spoke fast, too fast to hear any words but I understood what it wanted regardless. It wanted to infect others. I could see the aura of the people around me change. A dark grey took over what had been a vibrant rainbow of colors.

 

 

My sister brought us to this town. Her investigation into the horde held danger but she wanted me close. Plus, a meeting with a prince had seemed like a better time than working at our cousin's vineyard. Traveling with her was a welcome relief and a reminder of the times she took me along on her tours, good times.

 

She was upstairs in a villa that overlooked the market and town square. That used to be our routine duing her performances too. I would stay in the wagon or room at an inn.

 

Sure, we had guards and they knocked out a few of the horde that approached her wagon. When the guards began to stagger and hold their heads, I ran. I couldn't get to the villa's steps so ran for the edge of town to get away from people.

 

Running didn't draw attention- everyone was running. But, the horde could tell I was not part of them. When their eyes started to follow me I found a place to hide. When I left the porch I only needed to make it two more blocks to get out of town. The anxious feeling of almost being out of danger faded when I reached the gate. A larger horde flowed over the hills toward the town. It dawned on me that the market was a distraction. It disrupted the town, insuring they would be swallowed up by the horde.

 

A rope hit my head and brought my attention to the sky.

 

My sister looked down from a floating ship. That sight stunned me as much as the horde approaching the town. The prince or perhaps a wizard in his employ had a flying ship! How my sister ranted about the excesses of the royalty and wizards, but I couldn't feel anything but relief that she had made it onto one.

 

I'm sure my sister was worried for my safety, but with her best performance smiled she called down, "You gonna join the horde or get up that rope?"

 


 

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Cover image: Forest During the Daytime by Tim Mossholder

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