by Za1d3
The seven or so armed men who had gathered everyone out of the wagons and tied them up had vanished, and in their place were nothing but blood, entrails, bits and pieces of flesh, and shattered bones.
4 of their own guards laid dead around the wagons; filled with sword and axe wounds from protecting the cargo and passengers, the rest had been captured. 11 guards had fell during the bloodbath against the main force of the bandits.
All the remaining guards numbered at 19, and most were wounded.
The caravan master himself had a broken arm, a black eye, and a broken tooth along with from what he says ‘feels like two shattered ribs’. He had been trying to protect the passengers by attempting to barter with the bandits and had been beaten unconscious.
due to the fact that all of the guards had been injured to some extent, a few of the passengers had been asked to be lookouts while capable others were tasked with tending to the wounded until some of the guards could resume their duties.
guards and passengers alike who were able to move, had spent the last two days looting whatever they could from the battlefield, and searching for items that may be sent back to families of the deceased guards.
———–
Adalina ripped a shirt at the seam. She then took a knife and slowly cut it into strips.
Taking out a dried dessil leaf, she crushed it first in her hands, then poured it onto a clean piece of cloth and attempted to mash it into finer pieces. After assessing that it was good enough, she removed the wrappings around Troyle’s left thigh and applied some of the powder to his wound. She took a piece of the strips she had cut and folded it into a makeshift gauze and covered the wound before re-wrapping it.
Troyle’s wound was deep but not life threatening if treated properly.
She had never imagined her skills – acquired from her time with the mercenaries – would ever be required again. Countless times she had done this treatment, helping wounded mercenaries and especially Troyle whenever he got back from a job. The Dessil plant was not a rare plant by all means, but it was inedible and filled with a thick bitter liquid that when dried, becomes something akin to anti-septic. She had learned from one of the mercenary healers that; by drying dessil leaves and grinding it, the fine powder could help dull the pain and prevent infections in and around the wounded area. From the constant necessity to apply aid to the wounded, she had made a habit of always having dried dessil leaves handy.
Of course she feared that one day he would not come back, even during his time as a mercenary she had been afraid, but she knew better than to keep Troyle away from the one thing he knew he could do well in life, and that was fighting. She had seen him sparring years ago while he was still a mercenary and had fallen in love. Taking combat away from him was like clipping his wings, and she would not do that to him. It was one of the reasons she did not beg him for them to move elsewhere when he was conscripted to join the village guards.
This time too, she was afraid. Not for Troyle, not for herself, not even for the caravan’s safety.
She was afraid for the child that was laying on a makeshift bed of clothes. Kaidus had been unconscious this whole time. He was breathing, but no matter how much she attempted to coax him into wakefulness, the child remains unconscious.
She had spent the better part of the previous two night fearing for the child’s life, and had not been able to sleep much. She tended to her job of cooking and bandaging Troyle’s wound, but most of her time were spent by her child’s side.
‘This is because of me, because I couldn’t protect him!’ – She vehemently blamed herself for his condition.
“Wake up Kaidus… please wake up…” she begged with tears streaming down her eyes.
———-
Sitting there watching his wife move back to their child after she bandaged him up, Troyle was unable to say anything to lift her spirits.
He had encouraged her, had promised her that the child was merely sleeping when he first found out about the child’s condition. But that was two days ago, and now his words did naught but fall on deaf ears. All he could do for her now was watch her in case she fell further into despair.
His eyes moved from his family and fixated on his leg. Predominantly his left thigh where his new injury was.
Towards the end of the battle, while fighting one of the bandits, another had come up from behind him. Parrying the first bandit’s sword slash, he used the momentum to pivot himself and turn to counter the one flanking him. He miscalculated the speed at which the second bandit came towards him, and instead of waiting for the bandit to reach him and giving the first bandit time to strike again, he had lurched toward the second bandit to get in range. His quick movement was able to surprise the bandit that was flanking him, but by the time he turned around, the bandit he had parried was already upon him. Barely dodging a thrust to his stomach by jumping backward, the thrust caught him in the thigh. He was able to dispatch the bandit afterward, but it was only with the support of the surviving guards that he was able to come back alive.
Reminding himself about his blunder, anger swelled within him.
‘I should have stayed with the caravan.’ He regretted to himself
In two short years his judgment and skills had dulled to this effect. The sound of footsteps, the angle of a blade, the force of a parry, the speed of a thrust, movements like that of a swaying branch in a storm. His time as a village guard had seen little action, and even when something did happen, it was nothing more dangerous than a wandering wolf or bear that could be easily scared off, or trapped. He had lost his edge that had been forged via countless life and death situations. Thinking himself a more capable warrior than the other guards, he had failed to notice the idea of a second team, and opted to move with the main force instead of staying behind to protect his family.
Their force had consisted of 42 well trained and armed guards – including him – when the caravan first started out from Hilthu, now it was less than half.
After hearing from one of the scouts that a sizable force was quickly coming upon them, 8 guards had been assigned to guard the caravan while the rest went on to engage the enemy; the idea was to stop them before they could surround and used the passengers as hostages. Half way through the battle, a horn had been heard, thinking that it was a sign for retreat, they did not pay much attention to it.
The 4 surviving guards had said they were ambushed from the forest by a small team, from the sound of it, the enemy had weaved through the forest and waited for the horn to signal their attack. In the scuffle; four of the guards had been cut down, while the other four who reacted in time, ended with only wounds and subjugation. Bound and tied up with the passengers, they had lost all hope of surviving this ordeal until the strange burst of light.
Mulling over everything he’s heard one more time. Troyle’s anger slowly vanished, while confusion and regret filled its place.
A part of him knew Kaidus had something to do with the so called strange light. ‘What had Kaidus done?’ that was the mystery he had racked his head over the past two days on. But since the child was not waking up, he was not able to get any possible answers from the source. And that is assuming the child knew what he did.
A light that targeted enemies, with a force that was strong enough to – for lack of a better word – ‘obliterated’ them, utterly destroying them by ripping them into shreds as if the body had blown up from the inside.
The remnants of the attack force had come back to a bewildered crowd of bloodied people. Being in the vicinity of the bandits, most of the travelers were covered in blood and possibly gore. Adalina herself was plastered with blood from her back to the hem of her dress. She had been cradling Kaidus while the other passengers; still tied up, had kept their distance. While most looked surprised, fear was prominent in everyone’s eyes.
even without an explanation for what happened, as the two days went by, some of the more superstitious and thankful passengers had come to the idea that; Adali
na was some sort of dormant Malgin, and that her dormant powers had manifested and caused a miracle. Although there are cases of people exhibiting such events, it was unheard of in any adults, and most were definitely not on this scale. Adalina herself had vigorously denied it to him when he asked about the possibilities, saying that Kaidus had been the one who protected them.
With a hole in his leg, a son who had been unconscious for two days, and a wife who pretty much had lost her mind, Troyle sat there. Unable to usher any new words that would help calm his wife, he sat there silently watching and wallowing in his regret.
———–
“You are beholden. You will find me. I WILL be FREED.”
-a dead woman, her husband with a knife in his back. A child in tears.
-his eyes adjusts, the figure of a man begging for mercy as he points at him before the man was taken away.
-the figure of a young girl, broken, crying, dying…
-a crooked gallows, the beam breaking due an excess amount of bodies.
-people begging for mercy, crying for salvation, asking for forgiveness.
-blood everywhere.
-countless bodies lay dying. Their life source leaking out like a slow moving stream.
-hands covered, dripping something dark and rancid.
-a voice whispering sweet words
-darkness. An endless darkness swallowing him up.
Realization dawned. He clawed at the darkness. Punching, kicking, struggling, running, everything he could think of; nothing works. Exhausted, he lays down and gives in. becoming a part of the darkness.
Days… months… years… ages… they all came and went.
Suddenly a liquid trickled onto him. With every drop, the darkness seems to slither away shrieking in agony. After what felt like years, the darkness eventually washed away and he could feel a warmth encasing his body. Grasping at this little bit of light, he willed himself up from the darkness, and opens his eyes.
“Adalina?” – A barely audible sound
—————-
Looking at the child her in arms, Adalina cried again. For almost three days, he had been unconscious and she had fallen into the deepest pits of despair. There were times while she was cooking that she feared he had stopped breathing, and would hurry to his side only to find his tiny chest rising and falling weakly.
Being a mother, she had been prepared for when her children gets sick, but this was not a sickness. For all she knew, this had been some sort of incurable magic.
Kaidus was one who was born with mana, he had started understanding her ever since he was half a year old, and knew how to control his mana by his first birth cycle. Conversations came to him easily, and his eyes shone with intelligence and knowledge far beyond his age. Although she knew that most of the caravan members assumed she had called forth the light that saved them, there was only one person here who could have created a miracle. She was glad for everyone else’s safety, but that miracle had almost caused her the one thing that she treasured the most. She loved Troyle, but he had grown distant over the last year after Kaidus was born. Although it has been getting better, and he had come to term that the Kaidus is his child, she can always see that he was doubtful whenever he looked at Kaidus. He had kept his distance and rarely interacted with the child until recently when he learned that Kaidus’s hair was due to the child’s inability to understand the situation and control his mana. Before that, Kaidus had been the only one by her side, her tiny sliver of better things to come. Glimpsing his ever watchful eyes drove her to push herself for his sake. Her loneliness washed away whenever she talked to him and held him in her arms. He was, the one thing in this world that she would be lost without.
Having cried herself out of tears, she calmed down.
“You cry a lot do you know that?” the tiny tired voice said as her sobbing came to a halt.
“Ehih… yea… I’m sorry.” holding him against her in a hug she replied in a relieved tone.
“Adalina, I’m hungry.”
“Oh! Sorry! I’ll prepare something for you right away!” – Gently setting Kaidus back onto his little makeshift bed, she quickly got up and left the wagon. Her previous despondent mood had vanished completely.
Chapter 7 – Ferrent
The journey had been a long 38 days of travel from Hilthu to Ferrent, but they had finally reached their destination. The trip had taken longer than what was expected, but after the attack, everyone had been a lot more cautious, and plenty of detours had been taken to restock and avoid any danger.
By the time the weary caravan had passed into the outer perimeters of Ferrent, budding signs of civilization could be seen all around them. Fields full of cultivated Kargiz trees bearing ripe fruits scattered the plains while paddies of newly planted mulse filled plowed and richly irrigated patches of flat land. There were even flower fields snuggled in between the scattered Kargiz and mulse plantations giving the farmland patches of rich vibrant colors in contrast to the brown and green of the trees and plants.
Not sure of what things were known by in this era, Kaidus had spent the better part of an hour -ever since clearing out of the forests and desolate plains- asking Adalina what some of the newly encountered foliage and creatures were. Something that he had done every day while on the road ever since he recovered.
Learning the name and then attempting to connect them with those from his memories.
‘So that is now called a Krenuk huh, I don’t remember them having a tail like that. I wonder if it’s a species of the Hwezi family.’ – Towards a small hairy creature that is literally blind and traveled around using their tail as a feelers and their extremely sensitive hair to detect changes in the air around them.
‘That is definitely a Drezor Hound. The coloration may have changed a bit and it looks larger, but its features are definitely those of the Drezors.’ – Kaidus thought; marveling at a large domestic hound that was patrolling the fields for intruders. Adalina had called it a Kaltier, a large hound species.
Piecing things together from memory, he had noticed that many of the creatures and plants had changed drastically while others had remained virtually identical to how he remembers them. There were also many new plants and stunning creatures that he never seen.
In the single hour of question and answers with Adalina, he had spotted 4 animal species that he knew of and 6 plants and trees that he remembers. On the other hand, there were 12 avian species, 4 mammals that he had glimpsed in the forest, 6 new types of plants, and 3 new trees that he did not know. It was, a whole new world to him. In his previous life, books were one of the few things that he had escaped to in his time of tribulation, but such information were quickly becoming useless.
Thinking back about it, he had become more talkative to Adalina ever since he recovered from his condition. He found out he had been asleep for almost three days, and in his hunger, had finished three servings of delicious kluse wolf stew. The stew was made with dried kluse wolf meat, herbs, and a formerly unknown plant picked the day before by one of the scouts.
Throughout the duration of the trip, neither Adalina nor Troyle had asked about what happened, and Kaidus was thankful for that. It was one explanation that he did not want to explain to them.
———–
Rolling into Ferrent, the Capital of the Darsus continent, the caravan was stopped at the gate. After looking through their wares and being shown a writ of passage by the caravan master, they were ushered in.
Sitting on Adalina’s lap at the front of the wagon with Troyle, Kaidus took notice of the changes that had eluded him while he was in stasis within the void. The roads of the capital; though similarly paved and constructed, they lacked the luster of being magically reinforced like those he rode through a lifetime ago in Andarg. The buildings though constructed with stone and wood, also lacked the mana infusion to strengthen them. Something that piqued his interest was the amount of people bustling about their everyday business greeting guards and each other
. Most surprising to him though were the Gverils with their telltale metallic right arms and single horns walking about the populace. ‘I wonder what happened. For that crazed warring race to be living among humans… the world has surely changed’
Not just the Gverils, but the Kovus who had been known to keep to their mountains, the Aleiths of the plains, and even the Derzuls of the underwater kingdoms. All these different races who in his previous life had hated each other and constantly warred for territory were all now, in one place shuffling conducting business amongst each other without an ounce of animosity in the air. How many more other races had resolved their differences and are now coexisting? The thought baffled him.
Other things that had not changed throughout the course of history caught his senses. The sound of a hammer striking anvil reverberated through the throngs of shouts and yells, children crying while parents tried to hush them, merchants and locals peddling their ware all along the roadside. A sweet scent of honey spiced meat cooked to perfection, had just been pulled out of whatever cooking contraption cooked it, and the aroma was wafting through one of the open windows of a restaurant nearby. His mouth watered, even though he had just eaten not long before they got to the gate. Unable to spy much more than his immediate vicinity while on Adalina’s lap, Kaidus held his eyes hostage unwilling to blink lest he miss anything that might be new to him.
————
After twenty minutes of slow rolling through the crowded streets, the caravan stopped at a moderately sized building – Crystal Wayfarer – the sign of the inn read. With this, Troyle had fulfilled his contract; he and his family were going to leave the caravan and try to settle in Ferrent.