I should have guessed that I would not be the only casualty of the maze. Still, I was surprised to see that some men had chosen to fight to the death! Perhaps I was presumptuous to think the challengers in the maze were volunteers for just a little fun and mayhem. Certainly these were not blunted arrows in the latest maze victim. I am a Silures, I should have known better! Truthfully, my hesitancy to kill has often been looked at with distain by many. My clan usually kept me off the battlefield and with the healers. Hence why I still lived while they…

“Nessa,” Moss’s voice breaks through my thoughts, “Stoke up the fire and heat more water, quick as you can.”

I limp to the hearth and add more wood. Then I spy the containers of water which have already been drawn. I struggle to pour these into the cauldron.

“Bring us that last flask of mead too,” She calls. Snatching it up, I wish I had someone to run to Alti’s home for more supplies. Moss helps the poor ranger down the liquid darkness. He is fading in and out of consciousness; speaking rather incoherently. As Moss removes the arrows, I follow her work - cleansing the area with tonic, then packing the wound with honey. She seems to approve of my work - certainly I have helped this much before. We wash the rest of his body down before binding his body. As the ranger tries to speak, Moss indicates that I should check on the man who has lost his arm.

I hobble to the man and drop by his side. I am not seeing his blood drip into the earth, unfortunately. I lean over, pressing my ear to his mouth to check if he is still in Thisworld.

“Is he with us?” Moss questions me, having finally finished with the ranger. I shake my head slowly. A warrior’s spirit rarely wants to stay in a maimed body.

“I don’t understand,” I stare at all the injured people, “there are plenty of battles to fight. Why kill or die for a game?”