"We need to return immediately," he announced to the assembled group. "Prepare the bodies for proper burial, but we can't linger. Fort Marrow must be warned and prepared."
"Prepared for what?" one of the soldiers asked, voicing the fear that had settled over all of them. "How do we defend against something that can do... this?"
It was a valid question. Conventional defenses: walls, weapons, and trained soldiers seemed woefully inadequate against a force that could drain life itself without physical contact.
"The ritual requires preparation," Elara pointed out. "The circle, the symbols, they can't appear instantly. And they need to surround the target completely. If we can disrupt the circle's creation or break it once formed..."
"Then we might prevent the ritual's completion," Kael concluded. "We'll establish patrols beyond the fort's immediate perimeter, watching for any signs of the markings being created."
"And if we find Old Harkin," Mira added, "he might know more about how to counter these rituals. The symbols in his home suggest he's been studying them for years."
They worked quickly to provide what dignity they could for Oakridge's residents, burying the desiccated bodies in a common grave outside the settlement. No one suggested returning to the buildings there was an unspoken agreement that the place was now tainted, its structures standing as hollow monuments to lives abruptly ended.
As they prepared to depart, Kael noticed Elara collecting soil samples from within and outside the ritual circle, carefully storing them in separate containers.
"I want to analyze the differences," she explained when she caught his questioning glance. "If we understand how the ritual affects the land itself, we might find ways to counter or reverse the process."
The return journey to Fort Marrow was conducted at a grueling pace, pushing horses and riders to their limits. They traveled through the night, guided by the stars and Mira's uncanny ability to find paths even in darkness. By dawn, the fort's silhouette appeared on the horizon, its walls a promise of security that Kael now recognized as dangerously false.
They were met at the gates by Corporal Wyll, whose expression shifted from relief to concern as he took in their grim faces and exhausted mounts.
"What happened?" he asked as they dismounted in the courtyard.
"Gather the council," Kael instructed. "Everyone with any authority or influence. We have three days to prepare for an attack unlike anything the March has faced before."
The meeting that followed was somber, the council members listening in stunned silence as Kael and Elara described what they had found at Oakridge and the threat now facing Fort Marrow.
The revelation that ancient rituals were being used to systematically expand the Desolate Wastes, with the fort as the next target, seemed almost too fantastic to believe yet the evidence was irrefutable.
"So we have three threats converging," Sera summarized when they had finished. "The Sandblight bandits gathering for a major assault, these ritual practitioners targeting us for some kind of life-draining ceremony, and the continued political pressure from the north. All within the same timeframe."
"Not coincidence," Joreth, the refugee leader, stated flatly. "Coordination. The bandits provide distraction and weaken our defenses, making the ritual easier to implement. The northern nobles claim our lands once we're eliminated."
Kael nodded, having reached the same conclusion. "Which means our response must address all three threats simultaneously. We can't focus solely on the bandits or the ritual practitioners they're working together, directly or indirectly."
"What do you propose?" Garek asked, his weathered face grave in the lamplight.
Kael outlined his plan, developed during the night's journey. They would establish a defensive perimeter well beyond the fort's walls, with regular patrols watching for any signs of ritual preparation.
The irrigation channels would be extended in a complete circle around the fort, creating a water barrier that might disrupt the ritual markings. And they would prepare for the bandit assault with strategically placed traps and ambush points, using their limited numbers to maximum effect.
"And Old Harkin?" Mira asked from her position near the door, where she had been listening silently. "If he survived and has knowledge that could help us..."
"We search for him," Kael confirmed. "Scouts in all directions, focusing on places a man with his knowledge might seek refuge. Caves, abandoned structures, anywhere with connection to the region's history."
The council dispersed with clear assignments, each member responsible for specific aspects of the preparations. As they filed out, Kael noticed the weariness etched on every face not just physical exhaustion, but the deeper fatigue that comes from confronting threats beyond ordinary understanding.
Yet there was determination there too. The people of the March had endured hardship for generations, adapting to conditions that would have broken less resilient communities. This new threat, for all its mystical nature, was simply another challenge to overcome.
Kael spent the remainder of the day inspecting the fort's defenses, identifying weaknesses that needed immediate attention. The eastern wall, repaired with stone from Stonehollow, stood strong. But the northern and western sections remained vulnerable, their foundations undermined by years of neglect.
"We don't have time for proper repairs," Garek observed as they examined a particularly concerning section where the wall had begun to lean outward. "Not in three days."
"Then we improvise," Kael replied, studying the problem with the same tactical assessment he'd applied on battlefields. " Reinforcements here and here." He indicated points where the wall could be supported from outside. "We don't need perfection. We just need it to hold long enough."
They worked through the day and into the night, every able body in the fort contributing to the frantic preparations. Children too young to help with construction carried water and messages.
The elderly sorted through supplies, identifying anything that might serve as a weapon or defensive tool. Even the wounded and sick offered what assistance they could, many leaving their beds in the infirmary against Elara's protests.
By midnight, Kael stood on the partially reinforced western wall, surveying their progress. Improvised Reinforcements now supported the weakest sections, constructed from whatever materials could be salvaged: wooden beams, broken cart wheels, even furniture deemed non-essential. It wasn't pretty, and it wouldn't withstand a prolonged assault, but it might buy them the time they needed.
Elara joined him on the wall, her face pale with exhaustion, but her eyes alert. "The irrigation circle is nearly complete," she reported. "We've diverted water from the main channels to create a continuous flow around the fort's perimeter. If the ritual requires unbroken contact with the earth, this might disrupt it."
"And your analysis of the soil samples?" Kael asked.
"Preliminary only, but revealing." She produced a small vial containing soil from within Oakridge's ritual circle. Even in the dim torchlight, Kael could see that it had an unnatural grayish cast, like fine ash.
"The ritual doesn't just drain life from people, it fundamentally alters the land itself, rendering it incapable of supporting new growth. It's a permanent transformation, similar to what happened to the Wastes but on a smaller scale."
The implications were disturbing. If each ritual created a miniature extension of the Wastes, and these extensions were being systematically implemented throughout the March...
"They're creating a network," Kael realized. "Not just expanding the Wastes' boundary, but establishing outposts of its influence throughout the region. Like an infection spreading through a body."
Elara nodded grimly. "And Fort Marrow appears to be a critical node in that network. Its position, its history, perhaps even the presence of underground water sources, something makes it particularly valuable to their plans."
As they discussed potential countermeasures, a commotion at the gates drew their attention. Torches moved in the darkness beyond the fort, accompanied by shouts and the sound of hooves on packed earth.
"Riders approaching!" came the call from the sentry tower. "One of our patrols returning, and they've got company!"
Kael and Elara hurried to the gates, arriving as they swung open to admit a group of mounted figures. At their center, supported between two scouts, was an elderly man whose wild white hair and beard gave him the appearance of a seer from ancient tales. His clothes were travel-stained and torn, his eyes wide and feverish in a face lined with age and hardship.
"Old Harkin," Mira confirmed, appearing at Kael's side with her usual silent quickness. "They found him."
The patrol leader, a veteran named Bren, dismounted quickly. "Found him wandering the eastern hills, sir. Talking to himself and clutching this." He held up a leather satchel, its sides bulging with contents. "Says he escaped Oakridge just before 'the shadows came' and has been hiding since. Keeps saying he needs to speak with the lord of the March."
Kael approached the elderly man, who was now being helped from his horse by the scouts. Despite his apparent frailty, there was a fierce intelligence in Harkin's eyes as they fixed on Kael.
"You're him," the old man stated, his voice surprisingly strong. "The new lord. The one they fear."
"Who fears me, Harkin?" Kael asked gently, aware that the man had likely experienced severe trauma in his escape from Oakridge.
"The Servants of the Veil," Harkin replied, his gaze darting to the shadows as if expecting to find enemies lurking there. "Those who worship what waits beyond the Wastes. They've worked for generations, preparing the land for its return. But you... "
He jabbed a bony finger at Kael's chest. "You've disrupted their careful plans. The water, the planting, the people's renewed hope. All of it works against their purpose."
Elara stepped forward, her healer's instincts evident in her gentle tone. "You should rest, Master Harkin. You're safe now, and we have many questions that can wait until morning."
But the old man shook his head vehemently.
"No time. They're coming, both the bandits and the Servants. A coordinated attack. The bandits to break your walls, the Servants to complete their ritual once your defenses are breached." He clutched at Kael's arm with surprising strength. "I have the knowledge to stop them, but I need your help. Your connection to the land."
"My connection?" Kael repeated, a chill running through him as he recalled his aura circulation technique and its possible link to the ancient Stonefang practices.
"I've watched you," Harkin said, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. "Seen how you work with the earth, not against it. How the land responds to your efforts more readily than it should. You have the old gift, the Stonefang's touch. Dormant, perhaps, untrained certainly, but present."
The accuracy of Harkin's assessment was unsettling. Kael had shared the details of his aura technique with very few, and its connection to the Stonefang Manual was known only to Elara.
"Let's continue this conversation somewhere more private," Kael suggested, aware of the growing crowd of onlookers. "Elara, would you join us? Your knowledge of the Stonehollow tablets may be relevant."