Chapter Three Hundred And Sixty One – 361
Bogfeld's streets weren't as complicated as they had felt when he was rushing, but still it was a warren of ill-planned byways. They'd taken two wrong turns and leaped over a stone wall before reaching a modest square and a slight crowd. A bunching line of injured folksHumans, Hobgoblins, and Dwarves mostlywere trotting up a hilly path toward a large stone cathedral. Or something very like it.
"What's that?" Felix asked.
"The priory, I assume," Vess said.
"Like a monastery? Are they priests or something?"
"The Priory of the Blessed Fen," Zara said. She nodded to a banner that hung from a nearby lamppost. It depicted a white stalk of teardrop-shaped leaves on a blue and green background. "Not priests or choristers, but herbalists. They are prevalent in the Hills and a few others places. Good people, generally speaking. Come."
The Naiad started up the hill and the two of them had little choice but to follow.
The path was easy enough, a gentle grade that was lined with large stones that had clearly been there a long time. Grasses and weeds had overgrown them, and a few blooming flowers stuck up between their cracks. The people around them were limping on crutches and the shoulders of loved ones, all of them walking resolutely up the ridiculously long pathway to the priory. The thing wound up from the side of town and followed a serpentine path atop what seemed ancient earthworks. Here and there, Felix could spot architecture emerging from the ground, like tiered pillars or archways beneath the path, but it was all so weathered as to be featureless.
"Are these Nymean ruins?" Felix asked.
"Of course not," Zara said from ahead of him. "In Ages past, more than the Nym have made their mark upon the Continent."
"So who made these?"
"It is unknown," Zara admitted. "No records remain of these ruins, and nothing more than what you see lies beneath the dirt. Just weathered stone and a winding path."
"The Ruin?" Felix asked, keeping his voice low. Vess frowned, but looked to Zara for the answer.
"It is...likely, yes."
Hmm. Felix regarded the bits he could see with a finer attention to detail. He spotted pitting and strangely smooth edges, as if a great heat had washed against the rock at one point. Images of dark fire flashed in his Mind, of gods with too many limbs and heads of blinding light, all of them pointed at him. Of being consumed.
"Felix."
He started, jerking his arm away from Vess' gentle touch. She looked at him in confusion before curling her fingers back. Hurt flickered across her face, and for all that he tried to not read her Spirit, he still heard the jagged sounds of dismay.
"Sorry, Vess. I...Sometimes my memory is too good," he said. "Old ghosts come back to haunt me."
"Oh," she said, her Spirit recovering slightly. He still marvelled at the effect of simple words, no matter how many times he'd seen changes in peoples' Spirits after a few well-chosen sentences. It wasn't manipulation, but he felt almost dirty for having such a window into her moods. He reined back hard on his Affinity, just as he felt her gather a clutch of optimism. "So...I am your wife."
Felix grinned, if a bit nervously. He was glad for the subject change, but the phrase 'out of the pan and into the fire' danced in his head. "Well, it made sense in the moment."
"Did it?" she asked, arching a brow.
"Sure. We appear to be around the same age, while Zara is a good deal older," Felix shrugged, but made sure he lowered his voice on the last part. She didn't seem to be paying them any attention, but he doubted she missed much. "I've made worse lies."
"Worse? How low do I rate, Felix?"
He froze, panic slipping down his spine like fire. "Uh, heh, no not worse. It's uh"
Vess bumped his shoulder with her own. "Relax. It was a jest."
The knot in his belly untwisted, and Felix forced a smile. "Um, good joke."
Vess chuckled, a low sound in the back of her throat. "No it was not."
Felix's smile turned real. They walked a while longer, this time more comfortably. The injured trudged far slower than they, and the three of them quickly left the new arrivals behind as they ascended what was now a series of sagging steps.
"This town..." Vess trailed off, casting her eyes over the rooftops as they climbed. At the steps they were higher than most houses, and the smoke of decaying monsters was more evident than ever in the distance. "I do not like it. Something rots here."
"How do you mean?" Felix asked.
"The monster attacks. The injured Untempereds. Those Knights...My father's men would have never treated anyone that way."
"That's...kind of how everyone in power has acted. Ever since I got here, everyone's always throwing their weight around." Felix shook his head and kept walking. "That Knight was probably the most benign example, all things considered."
Vess breathed sharply through her nose as she followed behind him. "He may have been doing his job, only those I have faced in combat have ever touched me in such a way. The look in his eyes..."
Felix had noticed that too. Even before the Knight had deemed her a problem that needed solving, he had been...eyeing her up, for lack of a better word. "Well, if I hadn't moved, we would be fighting all the Knights in town. Even without your partisan, I'd put good money on you walking from that conflict."
Vess' eyes danced, amused. Her dimple puckered her cheek as she made that same low chuckle. "Such a charmer. Do you compliment all of the women like this?"
"Just the one's that can summon magic spears out of the air," Felix said with a laugh.
"I should watch you around the Dragoons, then."
Felix tilted his head. "You've never really spoken about them. What are the Dragoons? A Guild?"
"Of a sort. They were founded in the Second Age to combat the dragons that terrorized the skies above the Continent, and were a key reason for Humanity's survival in our darkest days." Vess gripped her spear, running her fingers over the curling dragons on its haft. Dusk dragons, Felix realized. Rafny had carved dusk dragons onto her weapon.
"Are dragons a worry anymore?" Felix asked.
"Yes and no," Vess said and sounded a little annoyed by her answer. "The Continent abounds with drakes and wyverns and basilisks and other draconic beasts, but true dragons have not been seen in centuries. My mother believed them to be dead, though others claim they are merely hibernating in the dark places beneath the earth." She shrugged. "Not even Seers have found any trace of them. So now the Dragoon's protect people from all sort of monstrosities, though we excel at ground to air combat."
"Mhm, I've seen you jump. Even with Evie cheating with her Born Trait, you're far better at it."
Vess laughed. "I would hope so! I have trained all my life in my Skills and stats. Had my tutors not forced statecraft down my throat, I would have been in the training yard with the soldiers from dawn until dusk." They reached the top of the sloping steps and were afforded a sweeping vista of poorly repaired roofs and the now-fading smog of monster corpses. "I miss it sometimes."
"Pax'Vrell?"
"Home, yes. It has been over two years now since I last saw my city. That feels too long."
Ahead of them, the pathway opened up into a circular courtyard at the edge of the steep hill. On the other side, iron-bound double doors of scarred wood were left open, each one twenty feet tall and twice that wide. Men and women of varying Races bustled to and fro, their arms filled with cloth and buckets of water and strange smelling sachets. Rough cots filled the interior of the priory, a courtyard open to the sky above, and every single one of those cots were filled with beaten and bloodied figures. Low moans and sobbing could be heard among the bustle of activity, with more noises coming from further within. Those that looked calmest among the mass of bodies were wearing blue and green robes belted over sturdy leather trousers and gloves that went all the way to their elbows. A white branch and leaf was emblazoned on their chest and backs.
Holy shit. So many people. Felix hadn't seen so many injured since the aftermath of the Battle of Haarwatch. Their group stopped just outside the large open doors, unsure how to enter that fray. Who would we even ask for information?
A woman with a set of small spectacles on her nose stepped out of the doorway's shadow, a scroll tacked onto a thick board in one hand and quill perched in her other.
"Name, birthplace, and description of symptoms?" she asked in a no-nonsense tone.
"We are not injured, Mender," Zara said, inclining her head. Her locks of sea-green hair bobbed, accentuating the motion.
The Mender tutted and pursed her mouth. "Then please step aside so I might help those that ascend the steps behind you."
"Gladly, of course. But I wished to know if we could be of any service?" Zara asked.
That took the Mender aback, but she recovered fast and peered at the three of them. She did not seem pleased to see Vess' spear and Felix's khopesh strapped to his waist. "And what service would you be able to provide?"
"Healing, of course."
Felix looked at the Naiad, eyebrow raised. Beside him, Vess nodded. "I do not have any Skill in healing, but I have sure hands. I would be honored if you would allow me to aid your people, however you see fit."
The Mender looked to Felix, who only shrugged. "What they said."
She snorted and jerked her head toward the inner courtyard. "Come, then. We've more bodies than hands, and even a set of muscles to carry water pots is needed right now." She pointed to their weapons. "Those, however, are to remain bound. If a weapon is drawn within the priory, you will be banned from using our services ever again. Do you understand?"
Vess and Felix nodded, quickly. The lady's voice had that quality all mom's developed, one that stiffened the spine almost without you noticing.
The three of them followed her into the throng.
"I thought you were getting water?" Atar asked.
Evie rolled her shoulders and thrust a thumb at Harn. "Ask the big man."
Harn finished guiding a team of avum into the alley they had designated as their meet up spot, the wagon meant for their haul trundling behind him. "You got the rations, Atar?"
"...I do." The fire mage gestured to his own team, all of whom held a tightly wrapped bundle filled with meat, cheese, and journey-loaf. "Place your burdens in the wagon. Quickly."
The Legionnaires followed orders, though they jostled a bit in the effort. They had been unruly to handle, even fractious at timesthe divide between their little martial societies had firm lines established, that was clear. Atar had been ready to pull his hair out or set fire to them all, he wasn't sure which. Luckily, Alister had accompanied them and his cool temper and head for leadership had prevailed. He'd cajoled the Legionnaires into a semblance of cooperation, and they had completed their task to great success. They had more food now than they had when setting out from Nagast, and even accounting for the Frost Giant's enormous appetites they would make it to the City of Embers with plenty to spare.
But the lack of water concerned the fire mage. He knew the deserts, how harsh they could be and unforgiving. Food was scarce out there, and more as like to be necromantic, even the plants. But water was precious. He sidled up to Harn and lowered his voice. "What happened?"
"A minor...event. Nothing more," the axe warrior said. Atar looked in Evie's direction and Harn laughed. "No, not her fault, though she was itchin' to punch out the red-shelled bastard."
"Paladins," Atar said, annoyed.
"Aye. They had the brass to commandeer a tavern's entire ale supplyall of it, mind, to be delivered to their little wall up the Pass." Harn spat to the side.
"Alright. That's...unfortunate, but what does it matter to us?" Atar asked. "We've got men and women to keep alive out there, Harn. I'll not be mixing in with the troubles of others without reason."
Harn held up a hand, stemming Atar's outburst. "I've a way to get all the water we need and get us through the Pass."
"What's this, then?" Alister asked, wiping his hands against his robes. Streaks of reddish dust marred the darker blues. "A way through the Pass? That's good to hear, considering there's some sort of wall there. Everyone kept rattling on about it in the market."
"To keep the undead threat out of the Hills," Atar explained for the sixth time. "I heard the Paladins are manning it and kicked out the Knights."
"Knights didn't seem happy about that part, least not the one's we spoke to at the market." Alister nodded at Evie's hands, still clasped around her chain. "She cause any trouble?"
"She did not," Evie snapped. "Why's everyone always thinkin' I'll do somethin' stupid?"
Alister held up his hands. "My apologies, Evie. You just seem...more on edge than usual."
"Pathless make me mad, is all." Evie huffed a short, controlled breath. "Can't help but wanna lash out a little. But I'm not gonna screw up our mission just to vent, understand?"
"I didn't think you would," Alister said. A lie, but a well done one. They'd both talked about Evie and her temper before.
"We follow my plan, and you'll get your chance kid, if you're smart," Harn said.
Evie perked up. "Then let's hear this plan."
"Wait, does this involve attacking their wall at the Pass?" Atar asked. "That wall is keeping this town safe. We can't damage it."
"Ain't gonna. Just some light prunin'."
"The Knights would gladly take it back over, I'm thinking," Alister added. "And the word is the attacks are getting worse. You all saw the corpse fires."
"Either someone is doin' a shit job or it's all gettin' worse. Either way, I'm not leavin' an enemy at my back when we walk into that desert," Harn said. "Remember, we gotta trek back through here on the return trip home."
Atar couldn't argue that. It would be unwise to leave Paladins at their backs, even if it were only a few dozen. "Alright. What's your solution?"
"Listen close."
The fire mage chewed at his cheek, uncertain, but he leaned in. They all did.
The three of them were quickly put to work.
When Felix admitted to having no Skill with medicine, he was told to tote water from the spring at the far side of the priory and given two large clay jugs, each roughly the size of his torso. The width of his shoulders was apparently enough to assume he could carry such things, filled up with water. They weren't wrong. In fact, it was as easy as anything with his Strength and Dexterity, ensuring he quickly refilled their stores without spilling a drop. He noticed more than a few appreciative glances from the female Menders, quite of few of which were pretty attractive. A particularly lithe Half-Elf woman had lauded his efforts, placing her hand on his bicep and squeezing. He'd almost dropped the jug that time, at least.
Vess was among the patients, set to re-wrapping bandages and working with needle and thread at the instruction of a Mender. Apparently she knew a scattered bit of battlefield medicine, enough to know when to aid a fallen soldier or when to end their pain. It was one of the many disciplines she had been forced to learn in her father's House.
And here all my mom taught me was long division and how to do my taxes, Felix thought with a snort. The two of them were truly from different worlds.
If Vess was busy, however, Zara was swamped. She had quickly established that she could use her power to heal, and now she was walking among the most direly injured and administering flows of blue-green Mana and subtle song. Wound closed up and broken bones healed in her wake, leaving the Menders to follow in clear awe. They guided her to the worst cases as swiftly as they were able, and though she was a Master Tier with all the depth of Mana and Stamina that suggested, not even she could keep up.
Too many injured poured through the priory's gates as the day wore on, their wounds all oozing and blackened like they'd been rotting for days. The monsters, whatever they were, had done a number on the outlying villages, and Felix had no doubt that dozens if not hundreds of people had died on their way to the priory. Perhaps even on the winding path leading to its gates. That made him mad, but it was a frustrating, target-less anger. Why weren't there more centers for healing? Why weren't the Menders at the town gates, providing aid down there? Why did the attack happen in the first place?
Felix didn't have the answers, but he wanted to figure them out. They felt important for more than the here and nowif he were to be a leader of a town or, Jesus, a Territory then he needed to account for things like hospitals and monster prevention and...and so much. That frustration burned, and coupled with the emotional turbulence in that courtyard, it was enough to make him nauseous. Felix ended up squeezing shut his Affinity as best he was able, numbing himself from the sensations even more tightly than with Vess.
"That is enough water, by the gods," a Mender said to him as he carried his most recent jugs. "You've filled us to the brim, boy." The woman was older, an Orc, and she shooed at him. "Go and speak to Mender Louisa. She will let you know what else you and your strong back can accomplish."
Nonplussed, Felix left, lingering closer to the patients. Vess and Zara were doubtlessly asking questions and investigating the situation in town and in the Pass. They needed to know about the Paladins, and he'd hoped the healers at the priory would be able to provide some answers. No one was talking to the manual labor however, so Felix tried mimicking Zara's tune near a sleeping patient. It was a low series of notes, tapping into something beyond himself, so pure he felt the vital vibrations of it all through his center. But...it didn't resonate with anything in his core space. Felix had no healing Skills. Chanting was a way to circumvent the Systems processes, but it didnt make something out of nothing. It was a workaround and an augmentation, tapping into a primal source to fuel a boost in power.
No healing Skills, but I do have something related. He fished a vial from the satchel at his waist. It glimmered blood red in the afternoon light. Alchemy and healing potions.
He had quite a few on his person, and Pit had even more in his saddlebags, though those were a bit harder to access at the moment. As surreptitiously as possible, Felix popped the cork and fed the Health Potion to the sedated Dwarf before him. He focused, and his Manasight traced the blooming flow of power that traveled down into the Dwarf's channels and burst before fading from his view. People, unlike inanimate objects, were far harder to see through with Manasight. Too complex. However, he watched as the potion restored their skin and muscle, wounds knitting in real time as a healthier blush flooded the man's cheeks.
Felix looked around. No one had noticed, so he got back to it, tipping potions into the worst patients' mouths. His men had more potions back at camp, so he wasn't worried about his supply; after all, he had stored the ones on Pit and in his own satchel for his personal use. Felix hadn't the need for Health Potions, not usually, so using them on these villagers didn't phase him much. He could always make more.
Life bloomed behind him, different than Zara's powerful workings or Vess' diligent effort. All of them saved lives that afternoon, and it felt good. It felt damn good.
"Just what are you doing, young man?"
Felix pulled a potion back from a mangled woman's lips, waiting for it to settle into her wounds. Once they started to close up, he turned to the Mender that was staring daggers at him. "Healing."
"With what? Where did you get those?" Her face paled so fast Felix almost offered her a potion. "Who are you?"
Felix smiled. "A friend, I'd like to think. Do you know who else might need help? Any particularly bad cases? I've got some interesting mixtures on me, but I'm not a doctor. I'm just going to the people that look the bloodiest."
The woman's mouth opened and shut, like a fish on land. "Wha-? You can come with me. I'll show you the worst. You have more potions, you said?"
"Yeah, tons."
"Oh, Siva's grace, thank you," she muttered to herself. "Come with me. Quickly, please."
Felix followed her, but they didn't go to any patients in the courtyard, but through a narrow archway and into the priory proper. "Where are we going."
"To save a life," the Mender said, breathlessly. "Blind gods, I hope we are not too late."
This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢