by Pirateaba
…And a lot of valuable treasure in the cave…and he can conjure really hot flames…
No. I would have noticed earlier, surely. Why didn’t I? The pieces all add up. But Teriarch—did he do something to my head?
Of course he did. He did it once. Why not twice?
Magic. How can I tell anything’s real? It could make me believe anything, couldn’t it? Too much more of this and I’ll doubt my own memories. What if there were things I said or did around Teriarch, or things he told me that he’s erased from my memory?
Think. Cognito ergo sum. That is all I know. Ergo sum cognito. I am a thinking being, that much I can believe. But…
Omnia quae scis forsitan species vana sit. I think that’s accurate. My Latin’s rusty.
…If I take this off-hand quote from the Frost Faerie seriously – and how else would I interpret it? – then why didn’t I notice it? Magic? Or maybe I noticed it and was made to forget.
How do you undo a memory spell? Is one on me? Could you even check?
Slow down, Ryoka. Any more of this and you’ll turn into a conspiracy nut. Not that all conspiracies are wrong. Turns out the government is spying on us, half the wealth of the world is held in the hands of just eight people, and magic and other worlds do exist.
Yeah. I’m in trouble.
I run on, trying to get somewhere indoors before the melted ice and winter weather kills me. It’s time to turn in my Seals anyways. I could use a hot bath, a hot meal, and a hot bed. Hell, I’ll eat and sleep in the bath if I could.
Yeah. A bath sounds really good right now. One short stop at the Runner’s Guild and I’m off to an inn.
That’s the problem with plans. They never work out quite as well as you’d hope.
—-
“Seven deliveries on one day? Come on Ryoka, I know I said we needed help, but try to leave something for the rest of us.”
“I’ll think about it.”
I smile faintly at Fals to let him know I’m joking. He laughs as if I’ve said something hilarious, and just like that, the conversation continues without any unpleasant silence.
I’m sitting in the Runner’s Guild, taking a moment to warm up and waiting for one of the receptionists to get back to me with my pay. Just so coincidentally, Fals happened to be done with his deliveries, so he came to sit next to me. He started talking, I didn’t bite his head off, and so here we are.
Mind you, we’re not the only Runners in the guild. A lot of people are inside, warming up. Including one person I was rather hoping died in a snowbank somewhere.
Across the room Persua glares daggers at me. If she had one in her hand, I wouldn’t be surprised if she threw it. I meet her gaze steadily, unblinking. If she wants a staring contest that’s fine. I can stare for at least five minutes before I need to blink.
Fals notices and casually moves his chair so his head is in the way. I look away and across the room I hear Persua laughing loudly at something.
When I’m in the Runner’s Guilds in these cities everything shrinks down, and all the little personal relationships and vendettas come right out of the woodwork. Remember, in this place Fals is the big shot Runner that all the female Runners and receptionists love. And Persua hates my guts because he seems to like me. And Garia likes Fals, which makes everything that much more complicated.
She’s not here right now, which actually makes me slightly relieved. We hadn’t spoken after I broke the news about the Horns of Hammerad, and I’m not sure what to say.
Meanwhile, Fals is doing his charming thing, which is to say he’s greeting all the Runners who come in by name, and talking animatedly with them. He’s a social guy. A good guy, perhaps. I still remember the problems I had with Magnolia and the Guild, but I’ll acknowledge he does his job better than any other Runner in the guild, including me. I might be faster, but he has a good relationship with all his clients.
Fals leans over the table, one leg bouncing gently on the floor. He, like all the Runners, is generally restless when seated. That’s one thing all of us have in common. We like to run.
“Liscor, huh? That’s a ways, but the Runner’s Guild in Esthelm might have a few requests going down that way. More if they know someone’s willing to do the route often.”
“Hm. Sounds good. I’ve got a…friend down there so I’ll be heading there a lot.”
Fals’ eyebrows rise, but he masks his surprise.
“Well then, I’ll talk to the Guildmaster down there when I’ve got the chance. We don’t deal much with the Drakes and Gnolls, but that’s because they seldom come north to trade. It could be good to open up a conversation again.”
I nod politely, and try not to say anything he’ll regret. Of course he’s surprised I have a friend. I’m surprised just saying it.
Guildmasters, huh? From what I understand, the ones in each local Runner’s Guild are retired Runners. The same goes for the Adventurer’s Guilds. The staff is either hired help or people too injured or old to work the jobs themselves. It’s a good system that gives work to people who’ve contributed to the guild.
Fals looks at me and then coughs politely.
“I was—wondering if you’d like to grab a bite at a pub later. I know a good chef who just learned the [Advanced Cooking] skill.”
Crap. This is what I was afraid of. I hesitate. Fals is a probably a good guy, but I’m not interested in him. I’m just not. But then, I can’t just refuse outright. I try to think of an excuse, and then the door opens.
Fals and I look around, and then both of us leap to our feet. Our chairs crash to the ground.
“Garia!”
She stumbles into the room, unsteady on her feet. Her hand is clasped to a bandage around her temple, and blood is running down her left cheek. One of the Runners by the door seizes her before she can topple over.
I don’t remember crossing the room. But I’m next to Garia before anyone else, peeling back the bandage. Fals hovers over my elbow anxiously.
“How bad is it?”
“I can’t see. Get out of the light and get me some water. And—a potion.”
I’d nearly forgotten about healing potions. I’m remembering all my first aid training. I snatch a water bottle someone gives me and use a length of cloth someone else gives me to wipe gently at the blood. It doesn’t look like Garia’s skull is fractured, just bleeding, but I need to check.
Breathing? Good. Pulse? Strong. If the head injury is bad, I need to avoid aggravating it. But first aid training is always given with the theory that the injured person will receive more complete care later. This world doesn’t have doctors or hospitals, just [Healers]. If she’s injured, I might be the most-qualified person to help her.
Garia shudders a bit as I dab at the blood, but sits still. Her eyes are unfocused. Crap. I pray she doesn’t have a concussion. But that might be better than a broken skull.
Fals pushes a healing potion into my hands.
“Here.”
“Hold on. I need to check…”
I feel as gently as I can around the injury. That does make Garia moan, but I need to know that nothing is broken. If it is, a healing potion might make the bone knit wrong.
Garia’s skull isn’t broken. I don’t even think the bone is cracked. She’s just lost blood. I uncork the potion and pour some around her injury.
It begins to close as Garia whimpers. She grabs my arm—so hard I can feel her pressing down on my bone. But I don’t tell her to stop.
In a few seconds the injury is closed and Garia lets go. She takes a few deep breaths, and then looks at me.
“Thanks, Ryoka.”
I stare at her. She’s still pale from loss of blood, and the healing didn’t do anything for her concussion, if that’s what she has. I grip her shoulder to steady her while I look into her eyes.
“What happened?”
As if I don’t know. But Garia just shakes her head. Her lip trembles. She looks at me, and then Fals, on the edge of tears.
“I got
attacked.”
—-
The story comes out as the other Runners find Garia a padded seat. We have her sit down and the entire room congregates around her. It surprises me, but then, I’ve never been in the Guild long enough to see someone come in injured.
Whatever you might say about Runners and their pack mentality, they do look after their own. One Runner gets attacked and everyone’s at risk. That’s why the receptionist comes out from behind the counter with something alcoholic for Garia to drink, and Fals sits next to her while the other Runners crowd around, listening to her story.
“It was bandits. They came over a hill when no one was around and tried to cut me off. Some were shooting arrows, and one had a club. I tried to out run them, but he got me—”
Garia gestures to her healed head and the dried blood on her cheek. She doesn’t seem to notice as another Runner wipes the blood off.
“Bandits? On the main road?”
Fals shakes his head and some of the other Runners exchange glances.
“They must be getting desperate. I’ve heard there was a band around here that was preying on travelers…”
“Can’t believe they hit one of us in the daylight. And arrows? Normally they just try to rob us, not kill.”
“How did you get away?”
That’s what I want to know. Garia blinks up at me.
“I—was saved. I was on the ground when someone else attacked the bandits. I don’t know who. A traveler, I think. Maybe another Runner?”
Fals frowns worriedly, and glances at the map on the wall. The main roads and cities are all marked.
“Someone from Wales? We could ask the Guild if they had anyone coming this way.”
“Should we go out and see if we can find them? If it was one person—”
“They either got away, or the bandits got them by now. We wouldn’t find anything and we’d only put ourselves at risk.”
The other Runners argue in the background. I’m still intent on Garia. Fals asks the question I was going to next.
“You got away? Why were you still injured? Didn’t you have time to heal yourself?”
“I—I just kept running. I didn’t think to heal myself. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.”
“Why not? You lost a lot of blood. A healing potion would have stopped you from collapsing like you did.”
“I—don’t have one. I can’t afford it.”
Garia blushes and turns red. She stares down at her feet as the other Runners look somewhere else. Of course. Of all the City Runners, Garia’s one of the slowest, even if she can carry a lot. She runs for only a few silver pieces at best, usually coppers.
The others are silent, but then Fals pats Garia on the knee. She looks like she’s going to cry from embarrassment.
“Nothing to be ashamed of. You got here on your own two feet, after being hit by a club. I couldn’t do that.”
The other Runners agree. Fals turns, and calls out.
“Don’t we have anything hot to drink? Not alcohol—can someone get a mug of goat’s milk? And food. And a blanket! Garia’s nearly frozen here!”
Some Runners immediately make for the doors at his words, and the receptionist darts into a back room to look for a blanket. I stare at Garia.
Not even enough for a healing potion. Jumped by bandits on the road. It’s never happened to me, but then I run so fast that maybe it wasn’t an issue.
Just when I think I know this world, something like this happens to remind me that you don’t need horrible monsters. Humans are evil and cruel enough to each other.
Fals is still trying to get Garia to sit still and calling out for something warm to drink and a blanket. I look at her, and the other Runners, and decide she’ll be fine.
Quietly, I make my way out of the crowd of people and towards the door. I slip out. I’ve got someone I need to visit. I was going to see her anyways, but now I’ve got two reasons to talk to Octavia.
—-
I hear the screaming just before I push open the door. Damn it. What now?
I flatten myself against the side of the boarded up windows, listening hard. Octavia’s screaming inside. Will I get a face full of explosion if I open the door? No time to wonder.
Yank open the door, throw myself out of the way. Nothing explodes. I rush into the shop and see Octavia in the center of it.
The dark-skinned young woman is screaming and clawing at her face.
“My eyes! It’s in my eyes!”
A bright red—no, vermilion-colored potion is sitting on the table in front of Octavia. It’s uncorked. Immediately, I cover my own eyes and hold my breath, but it doesn’t seem to be toxic.
And—I’m pretty sure I know what it is. And if it is what I think it is, Octavia’s only making it worse by wiping at her eyes.
I make my way as quickly to Octavia as I can without knocking anything over. She’s clawing at her face, but her eyes are streaming so badly she probably can’t see.
“Aaaaagh! I can’t see!”
“Octavia! It’s me!”
I grab at her hands.
“Don’t rub at it—you’ll just make it worse!”
She isn’t listening to me. Octavia’s fingers are at her eyes, and she’s fighting me as I try to restrain her. She’s strong—maybe stronger than me.
“Octavia, listen to me, stop—!”
Her fingers dig into her eyes and I freeze. Octavia screams, pushes with her fingers, and her eyes pop out of their sockets.
I see the fleshy orbs moving, and then they’re in the air, real and horrible for one second, attached by red string to the sockets. And then—
Two cotton pieces of fabric stitched together to look like eyes land on the ground. I stare down at them, and see the orange-red stain of the potion soaking the front of the cotton.
Octavia sighs, and relaxes in my grip. She speaks normally to me as she turns two gaping empty sockets my way.
“Oh, hey Ryoka. Can you find my eyes on the ground?”
I stare at her. Octavia’s face is still flesh, but without her eyes I can literally look into two empty sockets. They gape at me, and I feel my lunch coming up.
“I—”
“Oh wait, it’s the sockets, isn’t it? Sorry.”
She closes her eyelids and I can finally look away. I pick up both eyes very gingerly, and press them into her hands. Octavia smiles.
“Thanks, Ryoka. I wasn’t expecting that to hurt as much as it did. Wow. Good thing you came along, or I’d be looking for these forever.”
I nod dumbly, and then realize she can’t see me. Octavia carefully feels at the table in front of her as I stare at her.
“You’re…okay?”
“Oh, sure! Sorry if I scared you—I was just testing that potion you had me make. It’s strong stuff, let me tell you. Worth every copper piece you invested, and as soon as I clean the mixture off I’ll be happy to show you the others.”
She fumbles around, nearly knocks over the pepper-spray potion, and steadies it just in time.
“Hey, Ryoka, I’ve got a basin of water around here. Can you find it for me?”
Silently, I locate the bucket and put it in front of Octavia. She tosses the eyes in and begins to scrub at them gently.
“Hm. Feels like the oil in the potion is sticking rather well. I know I’ve got a cleansing potion on my shelves. Can you grab it? It’s green with streaks of blue.”
It takes me a few minutes to locate the correct potion, but when I give it to Octavia she adds a tiny bit to the water. It instantly turns clear, and less than ten seconds later she pulls her eyes out of the water and gently pats them down with a towel before popping them back into her face.
Octavia turns and beams at me, blinking a few times and wiping her eyes.
“Whew! Sorry about that. It’s always a challenge getting the cloth clean after a spill. I should just keep the cleansing potion on my belt, but you know how it is.”
I stare at her. I just can’t quite era
se the image of her sightless gaze from my head.
“You’re…okay?”
“Just fine, thanks for asking! I’ll admit it hurt a lot getting that stuff on my eyes, but I can safely say that this potion’s complete. I’d ask if you want to try it, but you can’t pull your eyes out of their sockets, so just take it on faith, huh?”
I blink at the pepper potion as Octavia lifts it and recoil.
“Get that out of my face.”
“Oops, sorry, sorry. Let me just cork that.”
Octavia stoppers the potion before handing it back to me. I gingerly shake the potion and watch the thick liquid sloshing around inside.
“One pepper potion, ready to blind anyone you really don’t like. It should cover a lot of space. Just make sure you don’t throw it upwind or you’ll be just as blind when it hits you.”
“Got it. I mean—thanks.”
Yeah, a pepper potion. To be more accurate, this is this world’s equivalent of pepper spray. Octavia took every hot pepper and painful substance she could and mixed it into something that would probably make mace look like lemon water.
And yes, I asked her to make it for me. I just didn’t expect her to test it out on herself.
I eye Octavia’s eyes. They’re still a bit red and the skin around her face is a bit irritated.
“You’re sure you’re okay? That stuff is giving you a rash.”
“Eh, it’s not worse than anything I get from spilling acid on myself. I might try and get it fixed later, but I’m fine for now.”
Of course. Stitch-people wouldn’t need healing potions. Or if they did, it would only be as a last resort. But it’s far easier just to replace some fabric or stitch something together.
“…Well, good. I uh—”
I shake my head and remember why I’m here.
“Do you have any healing potions? Good ones. I need one.”
“Healing potions? I’ve got lots! Any particular potency you desire? The good ones are all over a gold coin’s worth.”
“I need one for Garia.”