Chapter 70: Welcome to Mirevale. You Can’t Leave.

Mirevale smelled like stagnant water, medicinal herbs, and burned corpses. Raven decided that summarized the region fairly well before he had even set foot inside it.

They had left Sablewood four days earlier with the first real piece of the rifle sealed inside a reinforced alchemical container. The Arc Needle Queen’s Royal Spark Organ still retained enough activity for FORGE to recognize it as a valid component, something Raven checked twice a day despite Valeria already pointing out that looking at the percentage more often did not make it increase.

It was still working. That was enough.

Now he needed the next component: a stable mana reservoir.

In theory, Mirevale was supposed to be the easy part. Mana Reservoir Toads were not particularly powerful creatures. Common specimens rarely exceeded low Awakened, they were not aggressive outside mating season, and they appeared in large enough numbers around the eastern marshes that several hunting guides did not even classify them as difficult targets.

Raven had started distrusting anything described as easy.

The first sign that his suspicion was justified appeared almost five miles before the main town.

A column of smoke rose ahead of them. Then another. And another.

They were not chimneys. Too dark. Too large.

Valeria noticed them too.

"That wasn’t there the last time I passed through Mirevale."

Raven kept riding. "When was that?"

"About a year ago."

"Then maybe they developed a particularly unpleasant industry."

Roland shook his head from the lead horse.

"That’s cremation."

Raven looked at him. "You’re sure?"

"Yes."

His tone eliminated the need for a second question.

The road gradually became a raised causeway over greenish-brown water. Tall reeds grew on both sides, while trees with partially submerged roots formed small natural islands between the channels. There were insects everywhere, although after Sablewood, Raven found it reassuring that most of them were smaller than his head.

Valeria pointed toward a wooden post beside the road. Three strips of yellow cloth were tied around it.

"Quarantine marker."

Raven slowed slightly. "Regional?"

"Usually a village or farm."

Roland looked ahead. "There’s another."

A hundred yards farther stood a second post.

Then a third.

They were not marking a property.

They were marking the entire road.

Raven opened the map. The main route passed directly through Mirevale before continuing northeast. From there, they could reach Dunvar without making a significant detour. The alternative meant turning west again, circling two flooded regions, and joining a secondary road almost at the inner border.

Valeria calculated before he could ask.

"Another nine to twelve days."

Raven closed the map. "No."

"I knew you’d say that."

"The trip is already long enough."

"I wasn’t suggesting we do it. I was giving you the option."

"It’s a bad option."

Roland looked toward the smoke columns.

"It may become the only one."

Raven didn’t answer. That depended on what was happening.

They continued.

The first barricade appeared twenty minutes later, and it was not symbolic. Logs blocked the road. Two overturned wagons had been positioned as cover. Stakes had been driven into the mud.

Sixteen soldiers waited behind them.

The men wore light armor covered with layers of waxed cloth, and most had their faces partially covered. Two held spears. Four had bows ready. One carried a wooden staff embedded with a green crystal and aimed it toward them as they approached.

Raven stopped his horse.

"That looks welcoming."

Valeria displayed her House insignia.

One of the soldiers approached, although he kept several yards of distance between them.

"Identification."

Valeria raised an eyebrow slightly. She probably wasn’t accustomed to anyone asking for documents after seeing her family name, but she handed them over anyway.

Raven did the same.

The soldier checked both before looking toward Roland.

"Reason for entry."

Raven answered, "Transit to Dunvar."

The man’s expression did not change.

"The northern route is closed."

"For how long?"

"Indefinitely."

Raven looked beyond the barricade. The road continued, and people were walking in both directions, though far fewer than normal. He saw two carts covered with yellow tarps being escorted deeper inside by soldiers.

"Can we enter?"

"Yes."

Raven looked back at the man.

"Can we leave?"

The soldier paused briefly.

"Exit is suspended for civilians and travelers until further notice."

Raven stared at him.

"That seems like information that should come before ’entry permitted.’"

Valeria coughed to hide a laugh.

The soldier did not find it amusing.

"No one is forcing you to cross."

"But if we cross, we stay."

"Correct."

"That’s a trap with paperwork."

"It’s a quarantine."

Raven accepted the correction.

Technically.

A shout came from the other side of the barricade.

A man was running down the road. Not toward the town.

Toward them.

His clothes were covered in mud, a pack hung from one shoulder, and he was dragging a girl of maybe six years old by the hand. Three soldiers were chasing them.

"Let me through!" he shouted. "She isn’t sick!"

The archers at the barricade raised their bows.

Raven watched.

The man slowed, but not completely.

"She doesn’t have a fever! Check her!"

One of the soldiers at the barricade spoke.

"Return to medical screening."

"We’ve been waiting for two days!"

"Go back."

"My wife died in there!"

The man took another step, and the arrowheads followed his chest.

The girl was crying.

Raven studied the angles.

The soldiers did not look eager to fire.

That mattered.

They were not standing there because they enjoyed trapping people inside.

They were following orders.

Eventually, the man dropped to his knees. One of the soldiers who had chased him placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke too quietly for Raven to hear.

Then he helped him stand.

He did not hit him.

He did not drag him.

The father and daughter walked back down the same road.

Valeria watched them leave.

"This is recent."

"How do you know?"

"They’re still trying to escape."

Raven understood.

If the quarantine had been in place long enough, people would already know which attempts worked and which ones did not.

The soldier returned their documents.

"If you enter, you must register at the central checkpoint. Do not drink untreated water. Do not accept food prepared in unauthorized areas. If you develop fever, extreme weakness, pain behind the eyes, or irregular mana loss, report it immediately."

Raven caught one phrase.

"Mana loss."

"Yes."

"What disease is it?"

The soldier looked at him.

"Hollow Fever."

Raven waited for an explanation.

None came.

"What causes it?"

"Ask the alchemists."

"How many dead?"

The man’s jaw tightened slightly.

"Too many."

Useless answer.

Also understandable.

Raven looked at Valeria.

"We can go around."

"Twelve days."

"Or go in and wait."

"Without knowing how long."

Roland looked toward the distant pyres.

"We could also go back to Greyhaven."

Raven looked at him.

Roland raised both hands.

"I’m just mentioning options."

Raven opened FORGE.