Chapter 7

Panic.

Trace had no idea what to do. She had not gotten sick since she was a human, so she was unprepared for when both Lita and Roe, her recently gained human companions, came down with a fever only a day away from Ever-frost. They were already weak to begin with, and now they struggled just to eat or drink.

With all caution thrown to the wind, she secured the two of them to her back again after re-enchanting the length of rope. With the inertia dampening spell that she had originally placed on them in the forest that she had found them in, now in place, Trace sped off, as fast as she could run.

Normally, she had kept from running full out, even in the confines of heavily wooded areas. That was because the shock waves created by her breaking the sound barrier were extremely loud. Which, of course, drew unnecessary attention. However, she knew of no reason to care about that at the moment.

Trace's very first step created a thunderclap, followed shortly by the ground beneath where she once was erupting, from the force of her legs pressing down. Her two passengers felt next to none of the insane g's associated with the nye instantaneous acceleration. It took the fox a few minutes to reach her top speed, as every step that she took accelerated her, faster and faster.

Seven days had already passed, and they seemed to have been regaining some of their strength, as they had eaten regularly under her watchful eyes. Overnight, though, they had somehow gotten sick.

What would have taken her the full day, at her original pace, was covered in under an hour. Collapsing outside the stone walls, the two still bound to her, the guards on duty ran over to them, quickly. Their piecemeal armor noisily announced their arrival.

There was no one in the city that did not know Trace's fox form. So, her collapsing in exhaustion was seen as a pretty big deal. Trace liked to run, as it felt freeing, but that was a lot different than a full-on sprint for an hour straight. Every muscle fiber in her body was screaming from overexertion, while visible puffs of air escaped her muzzle, between heavy pants.

Too tired to undo the rope herself, she just released the enchantment altogether. The guards caught the two humans as they started to slide off her, too weak to hold themselves up. Through half lidded eyes, she watched as the two were gently laid down beside one another. The guards too, who were darklings, noticed their condition.

"Go get a healer, quick!" One of the darklings, apparently the leader of the group, barked out in their guttural tongue. There were five of the demons in total, although only four remained as one of them noisily ran in through the gated entrance.

Quite a bit of magic came naturally to Trace, but she had never been able to heal others. That was to do, in part, with the fact that she had learned very little about magic that could be used on others, that did not involve violence. Because of that oversight, though, she was in her current predicament.

With nothing that she could do, Trace resumed her humanoid form to catch her breath, as it also consumed far less calories. She collapsed on the ground, still, as she eyed the two. What had she done wrong? She provided them with food and water, and even kept them warm at night.

She had even gone so far as enchanting their dingy scraps of clothing, to keep them warm, in preparation for travelling through the northern wastes. What did she miss?

An elderly human woman followed the darkling guard on his return trip with a healer. Her name was Miriam, and she had been around since the founding of Ever-frost, some eighty or so years ago. Originally a war time slave, she ended up marrying a male Drakin – unlike their half-dragon cousins, dragonkin, they kept more of the physical features of their fore-bearers, but practically none of their innate magic-like abilities.

Miriam was a terse woman, but Trace did not hate her. Better still, Like Philip, the fox-demon could trust her. After a cursory examination of the two though, she laughed out loud, slapping her leg every couple outbursts.

If looks could kill, the hag would have died a thousand times over. Miriam jumped a little when she felt a steel grip lock around her shoulder, then the look of murder itself manifested on Trace's face, as she glared at the woman.

The hag cleared her throat, followed by a light chuckle, still not quite over whatever had caused her laugh. "You know," she rotated a little, to better look Trace in the eyes, "of all people to overreact, this is by far the best!" A look of innocent joy stared back at the overprotective fox. "They'll be fine dearie. They're just being swarmed with spirits. They'll adapt."

They were what? Why were spirits involved in their being sick? Miriam could see the confusion all over the fox's face. No one had the heart to tell her, but Trace had the most expressive faces that any of them had ever seen. But, that came with both good and bad. While just looking at her could generally tell you if she were in a good mood or not, it was equally as obvious when she was violently angry. However, due to the potential entertainment value, everyone had left it alone.

That was only ever the case in Ever-frost however. Like a switch was flipped in her head, since she felt relaxed there, everything came out.

"Much like you did, my dear, the spirits took a liking to them." Trace had already known that the hero ceremony was, in part, a fraud. The act of attuning spirits with a human could be done to anyone. All they were doing was becoming a living medium. The church of light, however, feared humans with that kind of power as much as they did demons. It was because of that they made a show of it, making it look like their god's blessing at work. Easier to control the hero if they thought their strength god given, and therefore, able to be taken away.

The only thing that was true, was that those summoned through the ritual were somehow guided by fate to defeat the demon-lord, should they become active. Political plays and a greedy want for control was the guiding hand behind the whole process.

Trace sat on the ground, squatting as usual, while she re-examined the two herself. The old hag was right. Unlike Miriam, Trace did not need a spell to allow her to see spirits. She only needed to focus on the ethereal, the in-between, to finally see the swarm of lights. They covered every square inch of their bodies, and more were coming still. Irrational panic hit her like a lightning bolt, as she all but leapt over to them, attempting to swat the spirits away. It was like trying to push away water, as they just flowed around her hands.

Miriam let out another childish giggle, before placing a calming hand on the fox's shoulder. "As I said, they'll be alright. They only need time to rest, and to adapt. Lying here will do none of that for them. Come, let these strapping young lads carry them inside. You need some rest yourself, by the looks of you." She laughed some more as she started walking back, towards the city's gated entrance.

While only one in ten-thousand humans could be considered talented in magic, literally any of them could become a living medium. For those that followed the old ways, that was considered to be normal. It was only after the emergence of the faith of light, that the practice was halted amongst humans, and the narrative was re-written that only the summoned ones could attune with spirits.

Before that, during a baptism of sorts, under the teachings of Luna, the moon goddess, and goddess of the pact, the promise. The goddess of bonds and truths would grant her blessing and attune them with the spirits. The baptism-like ritual was simply named the "Attuning" and was originally viewed as a moment of celebration. Ever-frost still stuck to the old faith, and as such, Miriam, the one responsible for said ritual, was quick to determine the issue. She found the whole thing funny, because normally when a human family came to her with their children in a similar condition, it was at a much younger age, and they were always excited, not worried about their impending doom.

Miriam was laughing at Trace as much as she was the whole scene, though. Trace, the ever-aloof nine-tails of Ever-frost had never been known to worry about others, as she did not trust people, not just humans. So, her seeing the fox genuinely worried about the children, human children at that, made the old woman happy.

A few clinics were built within Ever-frost. While Miriam's was certainly not the largest, she dealt with a fairly large number of people on any given day. She stayed near the main entrance to the city, to be closer for when farmers or others who stayed outside the city's walls needed medical aid.

Trace was now inside, with both Lita and Roe, who were laid down on two of Miriam's vacant beds. Like an annoying parrot, Trace's chin was practically affixed to the old woman's shoulder, as she gave the two a closer inspection. Roe, outside of obvious signs of malnutrition, was fine otherwise. He would need lots of rest and a regular supply of food, the latter of which he had finally been in supply of, thanks to their meeting Trace.

Lita was a completely different case. The fox had never pried and actually took a close look at her scars, so most of them she was seeing for the first time. There was not a spot on her free from the violence, save her face, that she must have experienced on a daily basis. Not just Trace, the old hag was furious. She gripped her tools with white knuckles as she gave the girl a full checkup. While there was nothing that Miriam could do for her scars, physical or mental, she could at least use her healing spells to ease her pain and speed up the healing process for the few that were still healing.

"Where did you find them dear?" When she finished, the old lady dropped into a nearby chair. She looked pained, as she watched the two of them sleep. The steady rise and fall of their chests was the only tell-tale sign that they were still amongst the living.

Trace sat on the wooden frame that made up the foot of the sleeping girl's bed, arms crossed as she peered back at the two. Hearing the old woman speak, she turned back to face her before she replied. "In the woods outside of… uh…" She scratched her head as she tried to recall the name of the city that she had just seen the summon take place in a week prior. Trace had, at no point, committed its name to her memory. "Anyway… in the woods…"

"So, you just happened to find two kids in the middle of a forest?" There was an obvious accusation in her tone, as she questioned the fox. "Trace, I know that you mean well, but you can't keep breaking into manors…"

Trace was aghast, appalled even. The gall of her to accuse Trace of such a thing. "Hey, that was only like… once or twice… maybe a few more –"

"I can name a dozen such instances right now, and that's only counting the demi's that I know of. Dear, even if they can't catch you… they only take it out on the ones they still have locked away somewhere…" The fox was silent. She was by no means repenting for her actions, Trace had simply lost count of her escapades and was now trying to match her shotty memory up with Miriam's, who despite her age was like a wealth of knowledge on tap. It was a lost cause.

"Ok… so a bit more than once or twice… not the point right now!" The old hag gave her a reprimanding stare, but it softened. She could not blame the fox for what she did, Miriam only wished that Trace thought about what she did a little more. "I really found them in the woods!" She had not been lying, but it was a little hard to believe. The old woman knew that when the fox said "middle of a forest" she had literally meant in the middle of a forest, as she was not prone to either lying or exaggerating.

A dry cough interrupted the two. Trace quickly turned around, to see the boy's eyes open as he looked around. Not seeing his mother, at first, he started crying. "Ack!" Still not quite used to crying kids, the fox tried her best to calm him down. Lita still needed to rest, and she did not want his crying to wake her. With a sigh, Miriam spoke up before she walked over to join them. "Move dear, you're more likely to make him cry more with as rough as you're being."

A few days passed, but Lita had still not awoken. Trace opted to have the girl moved to her house, but as Miriam knew exactly what kind of state the inside of her place looked like, refused. With no complaint given, the old hag looked after little Roe, not trusting the fox to be able to care for a human child – which was probably, certainly, the correct choice.

Trace had stopped in the clinic to check on the girl's condition a few times but was quickly run off. "Hanging around here isn't going to make her better faster." Was said to her enough times that she grew tired of it. On the third night, however, Trace snuck in. Her smaller fox form, which she had not shown the two yet, allowed her to sneak by the old coot.

A small hop put her up on the bed with the girl, as she slept. Trace was never able to figure it out, but she felt personally responsible for the girl. It was a strange feeling to her, to actually care about the well-being of a human. Even those close(ish) to her were seen more as an acquaintance, and their health meant little to her. This was different, however.

Feeling the girl shift in the bed, Trace looked up too late. Like she had often done for her son, Lita had hugged the fox to herself in her sleep. With an arm now secured around her fluffy body, she laid there, staring off into space.

'What in the hells… do I do with this?' Dead-panned, she just stared off. If she tried too hard, even in her current form, she could end up hurting the girl. While she laid there, however, she ended up dozing off. Ever the sloth, the moment she let herself get comfortable, it was over.

The following morning Lita finally awoke from her coma-like state before Miriam made it into the clinic. She was now staring at the curious little, relatively speaking, fox that she had apparently cuddled with in her sleep. After meeting Trace, she just assumed that it was a fox related to her somehow – rather than the very fox herself.

Enjoying its soft and fluffy fur, she just laid there. Right up until her mind finally clicked things into place. "Where is Roe?" Sitting up suddenly, she disturbed the blanket that was laid over her, which pushed the little fox off of the bed, startling it awake.

Too embarrassed about the situation and realizing what happened the moment she was woken up, Trace bolted.