They arrived back at Fort Marrow to find Elara already deep in her work. She had converted the old infirmary into a functional treatment space and was tending to three patients - farmers from the northern settlements who had been brought in with symptoms of wyvernrot poisoning.
"How bad is it?" Kael asked, pausing at the doorway after washing the day's grime from his hands and face.
Elara looked up from where she was applying a poultice to a man's fevered brow. "Bad enough. Wyvernrot attacks the blood first, then the organs. These three came early enough for treatment. Others won't be so fortunate."
"What do you need?"
"Clean water. More herbs I've made a list. And people who are willing to learn basic treatment methods." She straightened, pushing a strand of hair from her face with the back of her wrist. "This won't be the last outbreak, not in a place like this."
Kael nodded, already considering how to allocate their limited resources. "The new well should provide cleaner water. I'll send riders to bring some back tomorrow."
"Good." Elara returned to her patient, her focus absolute. "And the bodies?"
"Buried far from any water source, as you instructed."
She nodded without looking up. "Then our bargain holds. I'll stay until the outbreak is contained."
Over the next several days, Kael divided his attention between continuing the irrigation work and supporting Elara's medical efforts. More sick people arrived daily, carried on makeshift stretchers or supported by family members. The old infirmary quickly reached capacity, forcing them to convert adjacent chambers into overflow treatment areas.
Elara worked tirelessly, moving from patient to patient with unwavering focus. She trained two local women with aptitude for healing, showing them how to prepare remedies and change bandages. When supplies ran low, she improvised using cactus pulp as an antiseptic, fermenting local plants to create medicinal tinctures.
Kael found himself increasingly impressed by her resourcefulness and determination. She approached healing with the same tactical precision he applied to military matters, treating the outbreak like a campaign to be won through strategy and discipline.
On the fifth day after her arrival, as Kael was returning from overseeing the irrigation channel's extension to the nearest fields, he found Elara sitting alone in the courtyard. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes testifying to nights with little sleep.
"You should rest," he said, taking a seat on the stone bench beside her.
"I'll rest when the dying stops," she replied, though there was no bite in her tone, just weariness.
"How many have we lost?"
"Four so far. Three more won't last the night." She rubbed her eyes. "It could have been worse. Much worse."
They sat in silence for a moment, watching as the setting sun painted the fort's weathered stones in hues of amber and gold.
"You're not what I expected," Elara finally said.
"What did you expect?"
"Another nobleman playing at lordship until the hardships drive him back to court." She glanced at him. "You work alongside your people. You led the burial detail yourself. Most lords would consider such tasks beneath their dignity."
Kael shrugged. "Dignity doesn't dig wells or bury the dead."
"No," she agreed with the ghost of a smile. "It doesn't."
Another silence fell between them, more comfortable than the first.
"The bargain was for me to stay until the outbreak is contained," Elara said eventually. "But this land needs a healer permanently."
Kael turned to look at her directly. "Are you offering?"
"I'm negotiating," she corrected. "I'll stay, establish a proper infirmary, and train locals in basic medicine. In exchange, I want land of my own, a small plot where I can grow medicinal herbs. And autonomy in medical matters."
"Done," Kael agreed without hesitation.
Elara raised an eyebrow. "That was easier than expected."
"The March needs you more than I need to haggle," Kael replied honestly. "Besides, I suspect you'd charge a much higher price elsewhere."
Something flickered in her eyes, a hint of a past she hadn't shared. "Elsewhere isn't an option for me anymore."
Kael recognized the tone. It was the voice of someone who, like him, had found themselves in the Southern March not by choice but by necessity. A person running from something, or perhaps toward the only place left to them.
"We all have our reasons for being here," he said simply.
Elara studied him for a long moment, as though seeing him properly for the first time. "Yes," she finally agreed. "We do."
That night, as Kael reviewed maps of the March and planned the next phase of irrigation, the system activated once more.
***
[Advisor Status: Elara (Committed)]
[Medical Capacity: Basic (Improving)]
[Health Crisis: Contained (Ongoing Treatment)]
[Loyalty: 15/100 (Growing Trust)]
***
The assessment confirmed what Kael already sensed the March was slowly, incrementally improving under his stewardship. Not through miraculous intervention or divine favor, but through the combined efforts of people working toward a common goal. The system merely quantified their progress, providing a measure of what might otherwise be too gradual to perceive.
In the days that followed, as the wyvernrot outbreak began to recede, Kael established a routine that divided his time between multiple priorities. Mornings were spent overseeing the continued development of the irrigation network, extending channels from the new well to more distant fields.
Afternoons often found him at the fort, addressing the myriad issues that arose in a community struggling for survival, disputes over water allocation, reports of bandit sightings, and the ongoing challenge of inadequate food stores.
Elara, true to her word, established a permanent infirmary in the keep. She sent riders to collect specific plants from the edges of the Desolate Wastes, plants that shouldn't have survived in such harsh conditions but somehow thrived there. These she cultivated in a small garden near the fort, creating a sustainable source of medicinal herbs.
Two weeks after her arrival, as Kael was inspecting the fort's crumbling eastern wall, Elara sought him out with unusual urgency.
"We need to talk," she said without preamble. "About the fort's well."
Kael followed her to the courtyard, where she had set up a simple apparatus a cloth filter stretched over a wooden frame, with a clear glass vial positioned beneath it.
"I've been testing the water daily," she explained, pouring a sample from the well through her filter. "The bloodworms have reduced the wyvernrot contamination, but there's something else. Watch."
As the water passed through the cloth, it left behind a fine, dark sediment. Elara collected some on her fingertip, rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger.
"Ash," she said grimly. "Mixed with something else. Something that shouldn't be there."
"Natural contamination?" Kael suggested, though he already suspected otherwise.
Elara shook her head. "This is deliberate. Someone has been adding something to the well - probably over a long period, given how it's settled into the lower depths."
The implications were disturbing. "Poisoning?"
"Not immediately lethal, no. But it would explain the persistent illnesses, the failure of crops watered from this source." She met his gaze directly. "Someone has been ensuring the Southern March remains barren."
Kael's mind raced through possibilities. "The previous lords?"
"Possibly. Or someone who wanted them to fail." Elara rinsed her hands in a basin of clean water. "The new well at the spring tested clean. We should seal this one until we can determine exactly what's been added and why."
That evening, Kael called a meeting of his small council: Sergeant Garek, Elara, and representatives from the settlements, including Sera. He explained what Elara had discovered, watching their reactions carefully.
"Sabotage," Sera said flatly when he finished. "But who would gain from poisoning our water?"
"Anyone who wants the March to remain weak," Garek suggested. "The Sandblight bandits, perhaps. Or northern nobles with eyes on our territory."
"Or the Crown itself," an older farmer named Tarn added, his voice low but clear. "The Queen has never valued the March except as a buffer against the Wastes."
The discussion continued, theories and suspicions flowing freely. Kael listened more than he spoke, noting which council members seemed genuinely shocked versus those who appeared unsurprised by the revelation.
"For now, we focus on solutions, not culprits," he finally said, bringing the debate back to practical matters. "The fort's well is sealed. All water will come from the spring until further notice. Elara will continue testing both sources regularly."
As the council dispersed, Kael felt the system activate briefly.
***
[Political Awareness: Increased]
[Internal Threat: Identified (Unresolved)]
[Security Priority: Water Sources]
***
The assessment aligned with his own conclusions. Someone had been working against the March's prosperity, and they might still be present within the community. The question was whether they served external interests or had motives of their own.
Later that night, unable to sleep, Kael found himself walking the fort's walls. The moon hung low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the barren landscape. In the distance, he could just make out the silhouette of the rocky outcropping where they had dug the new well.
A sound behind him made him turn. Elara stood there, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders against the desert night's chill.
"You should be resting," she said, echoing his own words from days earlier.
"As should you," he countered.
She moved to stand beside him at the wall. "I've been thinking about the contamination. It would take knowledge medical or alchemical to create something that causes such specific effects without being immediately detectable."
"Narrowing our list of suspects?"
"Or widening it to include those with connections to such knowledge." She glanced at him. "Your predecessor, Lord Harren, how did he die again?"
"An arrow wound that festered, according to Garek."
"I'd like to examine his grave," Elara said. "If you'll permit it."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "You suspect his death wasn't as reported?"
"I suspect everything in a place where water is poisoned deliberately." Her expression was grim in the moonlight. "Especially the convenient deaths of lords who might have eventually discovered the sabotage."