The following days saw a flurry of activity at Fort Marrow. The stone from Stonehollow was put to good use, reinforcing the eastern wall where the defenses were weakest. Kael worked alongside his men, setting stones and mixing mortar, his hands as calloused as any mason's.
Elara continued her translations of the tablets in her spare time, though her primary focus remained the health of the March's people. The wyvernrot outbreak had fully subsided, but other ailments persisted the inevitable consequences of poor nutrition and harsh living conditions.
Five days after the Stonehollow expedition, as Kael was inspecting the newly repaired section of wall, a sentry called out from the watchtower.
"Riders approaching from the north!"
Kael climbed to the tower, taking the spyglass from the sentry. Through it, he could make out a small group on horseback, perhaps a dozen in all. Not bandits their approach was too direct, their formation too organized.
"Not royal envoys either," Garek observed, joining him on the tower. "No banners."
"Merchants, perhaps?" Kael suggested, though merchants rarely ventured this far south without significant protection.
As the riders drew closer, details became clearer. They were a mixed group men and women, some on horseback, others walking alongside carts laden with possessions. Children rode atop the carts, their small faces pinched with exhaustion.
"Refugees," Garek realized. "From the northern settlements, by the look of them."
Kael handed back the spyglass, his mind already calculating the implications. More mouths to feed, more bodies to shelter, more strain on their limited resources. But also more hands to work, more skills to utilize, more people to strengthen the March's community.
"Open the gates," he ordered. "And have Elara prepare for possible medical needs."
The refugees were admitted to the fort's courtyard, their weary faces showing relief at finding shelter. Their leader, a weathered man named Joreth, explained their situation to Kael.
"House Veyne's men came to our village three days ago," he said, his voice bitter with recent memory. "Said the land had been reassigned to a new lord, one who would 'make proper use of it.' We were given a day to leave or be removed by force."
"They can't simply reassign settled land," Garek protested.
"They can when the Crown supports them," Joreth replied. "The seneschal himself was there, with the Queen's seal on the order."
Kael exchanged glances with Garek. The timing was too convenient to be coincidence barely a week after the seneschal's visit to Fort Marrow, House Veyne was making aggressive moves in the northern territories.
"You're welcome here," Kael told the refugees. "We have limited resources, but what we have, we'll share. In return, we'll need your labor on the fields, the walls, and wherever your skills can be put to use."
Joreth nodded, gratitude evident in his tired eyes. "We heard you were different from the previous lords. That you work the land yourself instead of just taxing it."
"The March needs every hand," Kael said simply. "Including mine."
The integration of the refugees began immediately. Families were assigned quarters in the fort's unused sections or in the settlement that had grown around its walls. Those with relevant skills; a stonemason, a carpenter, and two experienced farmers, were quickly incorporated into ongoing projects.
That evening, as Kael updated his maps to account for the new population, Elara brought him a disturbing report.
"Three of the refugee children show signs of poisoning," she said without preamble. "The same contamination I found in our well."
Kael looked up sharply. "You're certain?"
"The symptoms are identical. And when I questioned them, they confirmed their village well had recently developed an unusual taste." Her expression was grim. "Someone is systematically poisoning water sources throughout the March."
"House Veyne?"
"It would explain their confidence in taking the land. Poison the wells, wait for the population to sicken and weaken, then move in with legal documents and armed men." Elara's hands clenched at her sides. "It's the same pattern as my false accusation: eliminate those who might resist, then claim their positions."
Kael considered this, connecting it with their discoveries at Stonehollow. "Could there be a link to the ancient practices? The 'thinning of the veil' mentioned in the tablets?"
"I don't know," Elara admitted. "But I intend to find out. I've been experimenting with methods to detect and neutralize the contamination. If I can identify its components..."
"Do what you can," Kael encouraged her. "In the meantime, we'll double the guards on our new well and the irrigation channels."
The system activated briefly, acknowledging the new threat.
***
[Threat Assessment Updated: Political Sabotage (Confirmed)]
[Water Security: Priority Increased]
[Population: +37 (Refugees)]
***
The following morning, Kael called a meeting of his expanded council, now including representatives from the refugee group. He laid out the situation plainly: the water poisoning, the political pressure from the north, the limited time before the expected bandit attack.
"We face challenges on multiple fronts," he concluded. "But we also have advantages our enemies may not expect. Knowledge of their methods. A secure water source. And most importantly, a community united by necessity."
Sera, the farmer who had challenged Kael on his arrival, spoke up. "The refugees speak highly of your leadership, Sir Kael. They say you've accomplished more in weeks than the northern lords did in years."
"I've had help," Kael acknowledged, nodding to Elara and Garek. "And motivation. The March may be barren now, but it doesn't have to remain so."
The council discussed practical matters: the allocation of resources, the organization of work parties, and the strengthening of defenses. By the meeting's end, a clear plan had emerged for the coming weeks, with responsibilities distributed according to skill and capacity.
As the council dispersed, Joreth approached Kael privately. "There's something else you should know," the refugee leader said, his voice low. "Something we discovered before we were forced out."
He produced a small object wrapped in cloth. Unwrapping it revealed a medallion of dark metal, similar to the artifacts from Stonehollow but cruder in its craftsmanship. One side bore a symbol that matched carvings they had seen in the temple, a circle bisected by a jagged line.
"We found this buried beneath our village's meeting hall," Joreth explained. "The building was old, predating our settlement by generations. When we began renovations, this was uncovered in the foundation stones."
Kael examined the medallion carefully, noting its unusual weight and the way it seemed to resist the light. "Did anything happen when you found it?"
"The well water turned bitter the next day," Joreth said grimly. "And the first children fell ill a week later."
The connection was too specific to be a coincidence. Kael wrapped the medallion back in its cloth, handling it with increased caution. "Thank you for bringing this to me. It may help us understand what we're facing."
That night, Kael showed the medallion to Elara as they continued their study of the Stonehollow tablets. She examined it with the same clinical precision she brought to all her investigations, using various substances from her medical supplies to test its composition.
"It's the same material as the artifacts from the temple," she confirmed. "And the symbol matches those on the altar. But this is newer, perhaps a few decades old rather than centuries."
"Someone is continuing the practices," Kael concluded. "Using the old knowledge for new purposes."
"But why poison wells across the March? What does that accomplish?" Elara set the medallion aside, careful not to touch it directly.
"Control," Kael suggested. "Keep the land weak, the population dependent. Or perhaps preparation for something larger."
They worked late into the night, piecing together fragments of translation from the tablets with the new evidence provided by the medallion. The picture that emerged was disturbing: a systematic effort to replicate the conditions that had preceded the creation of the Desolate Wastes, but on a smaller, more controlled scale.
"They're not trying to bring back magic," Elara realized as dawn approached. "They're trying to extend the Wastes northward. To create a larger buffer between the kingdoms and whatever lies beyond."
"But why?" Kael demanded. "The Wastes are already an effective barrier."
"According to these records, something stirs on the other side of that barrier." Elara's voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed her concern. "Something that grows stronger as the barrier weakens."
The implications were staggering. If true, it meant the March's struggles were not merely the result of political neglect or natural hardship, but of deliberate sacrifice - a slow bleeding of life to maintain a barrier between the kingdoms and an ancient threat.
As the first light of day filtered through the windows, Kael felt the system activate with a more comprehensive assessment than before.
***
[Quest Updated: The Sundering's Legacy]
[New Information: Deliberate Extension of Desolate Wastes]
[Threat Level: Critical]
[Recommendation: Secure Water Sources, Investigate Ritual Sites]
***
The system's evaluation aligned with Kael's own conclusions. Whatever was happening in the March went beyond simple politics or banditry. It was part of a larger pattern, one that had been unfolding for generations.
But immediate threats still demanded immediate responses. The wall repairs continued throughout the day, with the refugees providing welcome additional labor. Elara worked with her assistants to treat the poisoned children, using techniques she had developed during the wyvernrot outbreak.
As evening approached, Kael stood on the completed section of wall, surveying the land that had become his responsibility. To the north lay the fields where irrigation channels now carried water from the new well. To the south, the hazy outline of the Desolate Wastes shimmered in the distance, a constant reminder of what the March might become if they failed.
Garek joined him, his weathered face thoughtful in the fading light. "The refugees are settling in well. Good people, hard workers."
"We'll need every one of them," Kael replied. "And more, if we're to make this land thrive."
"You truly believe that's possible?" There was no skepticism in Garek's tone, only genuine curiosity.
Kael considered the question seriously. "I believe we can push back against whatever forces have been bleeding this land dry. Whether that's enough to transform it completely..." He shrugged. "That remains to be seen."
"The men talk about you, you know," Garek said after a moment. "They say you fight like someone who's already died once. No fear, just purpose."
Kael glanced at his sergeant, wondering how much to reveal. "Perhaps I have," he said finally. "In another life, maybe in another world."
To his credit, Garek accepted this with the same pragmatic nod he gave to more mundane orders. "That probably explains a few things. Your knowledge. Your patience with tasks that would frustrate most knights."
"Does it trouble you?" Kael asked.
"Trouble me?" Garek laughed, a short, gruff sound. "Sir Kael, I've served three lords before you. One drank himself to death. One fled at the first bandit raid. One died of a 'festering wound' that looked suspiciously like poison. If you've maybe lived two lives and chosen to spend this one digging irrigation trenches in the Southern March, that makes you either the wisest man I've met or the most foolish."
"Perhaps both," Kael acknowledged with a small smile.
They stood in companionable silence as the sun set, painting the barren landscape in hues of gold and amber. Despite the challenges ahead: the bandits, the political machinations, the ancient mysteries - Kael felt a growing sense of connection to this harsh land and its resilient people.
The system activated briefly, a warm pulse of assessment that seemed to echo his thoughts.
***
[Loyalty: 22/100 (Growing Trust)]
[Territory Bond: Strengthening]
***
In his first life, Kael had been a teacher who died saving a student. In this second chance, he had fought his way up from common soldier to knight through sheer determination. Now, fate or something more deliberate had delivered him to this forsaken corner of the kingdom.
And here, among the dust and stone, he had found purpose again. Not in glory or power, but in the simple, vital work of bringing life to barren soil. In uncovering buried secrets that might hold the key to the March's redemption.
As darkness fell over Fort Marrow, Kael turned his attention to the immediate tasks at hand. The wall repairs would be completed tomorrow.
The irrigation channels needed extension to the refugee settlement. And somewhere in the tablets and artifacts from Stonehollow lay answers to questions that had haunted the March for generations.
One step at a time, one day at a time, they would build something that could withstand whatever forces sought to reduce the March to dust. And in doing so, perhaps they would uncover the truth behind the Desolate Wastes and the ancient power that slumbered beyond.