by Dan Gillis
Gently, they placed Tohm down just under the waggon chassis with a rolled blanket under his head supplied by Shien. There was no room in the waggon for his large frame, not to mention the dead lift would be near impossible for them in their depleted states. At best, shade was provided this way. “We will need water, but judging by our attire, none of us should try to gain access to the city right now.” Zyr unbuckled Tohm’s belt and unbuttoned the remains of the shirt. After a quick inspection, he moved the large man to his side and adjusted Tohm’s arms and legs in odd positions. Firah was perplexed watching the procedure. “I’ll return soon.” Zyr instructed as he took up a long water skin hanging from the side of the driver’s seat, which appeared mostly empty.
“Wait right there!” Shien demanded as Zyr made to move off. “Who are you? What’s going on here?” He looked from the new fellow to Firah.
“She will tell you. I have work to do.” Shien watched as Zyr set into a limped trot towards the river, which wound away in the distance. He looked at Firah, who sighed and sunk down by Tohm’s side. Shien slowly followed suit, his body screaming out for a break from the punishment without respite. He looked at the diminishing figure incredulously, and waited.
“His name is Zyr, the other friend of mine… the one I was trying to help last night …” His face lit up in understanding.
“I see.” Shien considered how much his life had changed in just one night. Previously, he felt carefree about life and he hadn’t taken much responsibility except for securing the heirlooms which where his by right. He fingered the pack strap; his heart ached to see them and yet he knew if wasn’t appropriate at the moment. Now that he had acquired the weapons he was unsure as to what he should do. This passion to reclaim the swords was all consuming for so long. Now his life seemed to open as a broad road before him. It was an odd feeling to have. Looking down at the large man, who lay unconscious and infirm beside them, he felt the pangs of sorrow exuding from the girl. Her delicate face was intent on the wounds and scars the man bore. He also felt a degree of concern within himself, and he marvelled at the foreign feeling. Shien continued to ponder as he watched over the poor merchant. There was profound silence until Zyr returned some time later. He examined Tohm again, this time rolling him gently to his back.
“Firah, prop his head up a little; keep him comfortable. Try elevating the feet slightly … that’s it …,” the healer directed “and you …”
“Shien,” the young man interjected briskly.
“… prepare this water by boiling it; I can’t afford infections. I’ll be assessing the extent of the damage. Luckily, we are close to the city and my curing should not draw out any aggression upon us.” Shien looked at the cleric with an air of offense. He did not take well to orders; however, the circumstances were dire. He would swallow his pride, for now.
“You could try behind the seat, Shien. He usually stores his cooking things there.” Firah cast a quick smile at him. If anything, he would do the task because of that small act. Stiffly, he willed his frame to move upward and gradually around the waggon.
Zyr’s hand passed slowly over Tohm just a fraction above the skin. With his eyes closed, he sought to trace the map of the human body in his mind. That was all there was to delving really, once a person understood how the body worked. Each pass with his hand revealed vital information regarding the muscular, nervous, and skeletal and blood systems. Strangely, despite the massive hurt upon his large friend, Zyr discerned that there was no bodily harm that should necessitate such incapacitation. As his hand passed over the skull he felt something odd. Zyr stopped and lowered his hand to his side. What was that feeling? He closed his senses off to all else around him and searched deep within his mind for an answer. Suddenly he recalled a vague memory, a case concerning a member of the Order long ago. It seemed the victim had been assaulted by Cerephor weaves which had caused severe damage to the cerebral functions. It was a vicious lashing which required significant efforts in healing. Sadly, the man was never the same. Personality changes, emotional damage, longevity diminished. Zyr pulled himself from the induced meditation and opened his eyes slowly. He cast his soft blue gaze upon the poor man. He could do something for him, but would it help? Glancing to his right he saw the girl intent on her old friend. Her eyes full of concern, she brushed the uninjured skin of Tohm’s face. Should he let her know? It would only cause her more sorrow and pain.
Zyr closed his eyes again, this time they clenched in anger. There was one clear answer for this perpetration and crime. It always came back to those who inflicted evil for naught but sheer pleasure. After this morning’s encounter, he was struggling to maintain his calm composure. Already, he had been short with others because of the diverting battle raging through his soul; now the hurt was building upon itself. Somehow he must suppress it for Firah’s sake. She would need a strong support soon. Sighing deeply, he touched her arm. She looked to him eagerly.
“The physical damage is not severe, despite what it may look like. Those burns while seeming grave, are generally superficial. I may be able to help cure such injury. His hands are crushed and splintered, but I can certainly remedy that.” He decided to stop there. He would never lie to the girl, yet he could not tell her what he suspected. He would need to talk to Tohm first, following the nerve repair. She brightened upon hearing the news and cried softly in relief. She placed her head on Tohm’s breast, her matted hair spilling over his torso. He would give Firah a moment before the mending.
Zyr stood up and walked toward the other man. Shien was busily tending a small fire, and had to his credit performed the task with great efficiency. Zyr would need to speak to the young man, to glean any knowledge of the previous night and determine the character of the Firah’s escort. Shien lifted his head as the monk approached. His face betrayed mistrust; it was understandable. Zyr crouched down beside the stalwart fighter. He could tell that Shien was harbouring some pain and hurt, but was choosing to keep it to himself. That was admirable. “Forgive me. My introduction was poor, as I had to determine how our colleague was faring. I pray, accept my apology.” Zyr held out a calloused hand smattered with dried blood and dirt. Shien grasped the hand tightly for a moment and smiled. Releasing the grip, he looked back towards the fire.
“I understand your apprehension about my involvement with the girl. I merely helped her out of a sticky situation and apart from that, I have no other agenda.” Zyr gazed upon the young man with a degree of awe. He had discerned his thoughts; was it luck or something else? He put those thoughts away for later.
“I was wondering if you could tell me what happened last night? While we wait for the water …”
The air was still. The sun burned high in the midday sky. Clouds would occasionally bring fleeting respite to the people below. Tohm’s eyes fluttered open slowly, the pupils gradually focusing. He lay there for a time shifting his gaze from person to person. He let the air flow into his nostrils, passing in and out. He looked at a man, who sat nearest with his sleeves rolled up his arms. He was preparing some solution in a bowl which brought herbal scents to his nose. The man was preparing to cure him of some injury. It seemed to Tohm he looked like a water-golem; settled and still as a mountain lake. Tohm’s memory was foggy and occasionally lapsed into voids of thought. It was as if his mind was a wooden puzzle with pieces carved and plucked out. He saw hands moving toward the swollen flesh on his face. Suddenly his mind exploded from some distant shaded memory. He swatted the hand away from his face. Sitting up swiftly, he grasped his bare scalp with a trembling hand.
“Nnn … uh …” He whipped his head around quickly, his eyes wild. All perception of things had changed suddenly. The beast wrestled with reality as it twisted into strange perceptions. One creature trembling like a fox kit gasped and stretched out a hand slowly. The beast saw the kit reaching … like the hand which seared its mind. “Rhyaaa!” Screaming violently, the beast slammed a fist into the kit, knocking her back several feet. She tumbled upon the ground
and pulled her arms and legs toward her body, whimpering softly in pain. Another shape like a wolf immediately reacted by attempting to secure the beast’s massive arms, but this only enraged it further, unleashed and completely untamed.
“No, Shien. Wait!” the water-golem shouted out, as the beast easily outstripped the wolf’s strength. It was too late. The feral force grabbed the struggling wolf’s neck and wrenched the throat violently before pounding him into the dirt. The wolf stopped moving. Tohm shot up sharply into a feral stance, his eyes darting and shifting while saliva dripped hungrily across his chin. The golem shifted slowly - water flowing through a low combative stance. Tohm felt his prey edging away and the choice of action was clear. The prey must die for the harm upon the beast.
Lashing out with massive limbs, Tohm raged and howled. Zyr moved quickly and evaded the desperate attacks. Within the Ashori’s mind, logic flowed as steady as the power from the Root. What was done was required, yet Zyr never imagined the outcome would be so severe. Tohm’s condition must have run deeper and more complex than he thought.
Suddenly, the monk’s defence faltered under a flurry of attacks from his deranged friend. As he dodged low, Tohm’s foot rose up sharply to connect with his groin. Zyr leaned forward with snaking hands intent on snaring and trapping the leg. It was part of a sequence he learned long ago, yet, it had risks. In that instant, the healer’s mind read the flows of combat that told him what would happen next. His weary body, fatigued from hours of strain and abuse, would not move as fast as he willed it.
It was in that moment of weakness that the beast struck out. Its head savagely hammering the healer with all the force of a battering ram. Reeling, the water-golem attempted to compensate, but primal instinct altered the attack and brutally gnashed teeth down upon the monk, rending his robes and tearing the elusive fluids away from the healer’s lower neck. The living water creature cried out in pain while the beast howled within the frenzied blood lust. As he did so, his hands came around battering his prey’s body with several thunderous blows. The golem collapsed to the ground and struggled weakly to rise as the giant linked both his fleshy hammers and bashed them across his foe’s back.
The monk’s mind told him what would happen. Tohm would not stop until he was dead. Tohm picked up Zyr with seeming ease and threw him mercilessly into the side of the cart, splintering wood and grinding the metal chassis. Lying prone, the monk squinted upward at the relentless animal which stalked toward him. ‘How could I have misjudged so badly?’ he thought wearily, just as another torturous hail crashed upon his broken body. Zyr fought desperately in spirit for his life-force to remain within his body.
“Tohm, stop! Please … stop this ...” Firah was upon her knees a few feet away, her hand outstretched toward the massive beast which was her truest friend. Her breath was short and voice ragged.
“F … r … ah …” His voice came in a guttural drawl. Slowly the anger was ebbing, recognition was returning, yet his blood was hot and the beast fought for control. His hand was raised in a final mortal strike across his enemy’s neck. The beast snarled in protest. The prey must die. Tohm grabbed his head again and screamed out in a twisted fit of rage. He beat upon his skull harshly to stop the pain.
“Tohm … stop … you’ll kill yourself …” Her faint pleads were cooling winds across the scorched desert of his mind. He pressed upon his head so harshly, he felt it would burst. His mind was slowly ebbing, the beast was tearing and lashing within, but slowly it was retreating behind a fragile, veil-thin barrier. Tohm slumped to his knees and continued to moan while clutching the vessel of his storming emotions. It was after several moments that his hands fell to his side and his chin dipped down to his chest. All was still as the sun burned down upon the scene of conflict. Silently, a cloud slipped before the burning orb; as if from an unspoken signal, the girl moved slowly, upon her knees, toward the subdued warrior. Tohm’s shoulders rose and fell with his tense breathing.
“Firah … don’t … touch him …” Zyr had somehow rolled away and he clutched his savaged neck, where gushing blood had soaked down through what remained of his robes. He seemed barely conscious, trying in vain to move. Tohm eyed the girl intently with a gaze of suppressed rage. His eyes pierced the air between them, deep brown as the earth beneath his fingers, which tensed and released at his side.
“It’s okay … he won’t. I just know it,” she whispered as she moved close to her friend. She looked at him with such pity. His mind was still chaotic, and he struggled for a semblance of sanity. She was next to him now and he watched as she stopped and breathed in deeply. A hand rose up in front of her body, not moving toward him; it simply floated there before him. Firah turned her hand and slowly opened the fingers. It was an open hand. Timidly, as a wolf before the shepherd, the beleaguered man moved his own hand to take hers. As he felt her gentle warmth, the last of his anger left and he pulled her to himself. Firah wrapped her arms around Tohm and held him as he began to groan again. The older man simply wept tears of pain across the girl’s neck. Hers was a soothing presence; the beast had been quelled. Yet, it lingered in the shadows of his mind and growled low in anticipation of freedom again.
Tohm lay upon the ground, eyes closed in deep slumber. He would suddenly toss and stir where he lay, his forehead creased and burning with heat. Shien had only been rendered unconscious, and luckily escaped with only a bruised and painful whiplash in the neck. Gingerly, he rubbed his neck to try to take the stiffness away. Time had passed by so quickly and the sun was heading in its downward march through the western sky. After the frightening episode with Tohm, they had removed themselves as quickly as possible from the merchant entrance. The struggle had been short but all the traffic had moved quickly away from the terrifying scene for fear of being swept up. Moving Tohm around proved as difficult a challenge as it had been earlier, especially in their weakened states. It had not been the only dilemma; they had all waited patiently for the monk to overcome the injuries inflicted upon him. Then much later, after significant trepidation, Tohm successfully ingested some herbs in a drink prepared by the monk. This had appeared to quell the man’s emotions sufficiently. He had fallen into slumber quietly, and the hapless group, weary and fatigued, were afforded a respite. Finally the cart and companions rested under the shelter of a small grove of trees to the south of the city. To Shien, it seemed that fate had completely abandoned all of them to long dreary roads, which offered no relief from harsh pain and suffering. He was amazed at the recent chaotic events which had come into his life, all he felt he could do to cope was to chuckle to himself. Firah was walking by when she heard him emit the suppressed mirth. She turned on her heel and moved to him angrily.
“How can you laugh … after all this?” She had her fists planted firmly upon her hips and carried a look so dark that Shien was sure it would repel the fiercest Gnarel. Firah had been storming like a typhoon about the camp for the last hour or so. She was frustrated at her inability to receive an explanation for Tohm’s sudden behavior shift. Once Zyr had sufficiently tended to all their injuries, only then did he slip into an induced trance without offering any information to either of them. Shien wasn’t about to be critical, after being selflessly healed by the good man. He found out later that Tohm had abused Zyr like a butcher tenderizing a fresh shank of meat. He shuddered as he watched the still form of the Ashori against the tree. ‘He should have died’ Shien mused.
He realized that he was ignoring the girl who loomed overhead. She was completely unreasonable in this state and no amount of talking would help either. Every emotion was centered on impatience and anger. Everyone dealt with the situation in their own way; for Shien, he had to laugh … the only other option was to grieve. He looked to the massive frame of the slumbering merchant. He was still scarred in severe burns. One thing Zyr had made clear was that only life threatening injuries could be attended to initially, as his energy was waning. Firah’s voice cut through Shien’s vain attempts to shut her ranting out.
Shien laughed again. This time the laughter was unsuppressed. “What are you doing? Are you trying to kill the healer or the tree?” He stood up slowly and scratched his day-old stubble thoughtfully. He could sense the heat from her rising to dangerous levels. That was good; she needed to channel her anger toward something. He could sense her taking the bait.
“You … you …” Her face welled up crimson as her body burned like a furnace. ‘Any second now’ he thought.
Something unusual was happening. The brooch Firah wore on her shirt had started to flash brilliantly. Shien watched as wispy trails of energy began swirl about the troubled girl. They shifted amongst every colour, illuminating her body. Her face contorted in anger while the streams of hot energy pulsed in rhythm with her blood within her veins. Shien began to consider that he had erred in a bad way.
“Now, Firah, just wait …” He was backing away. Firah was watching the streams intensely with a mixture of alarm and curiosity. They were swelling now in intensity and speed, and bizarrely resembled large vines or brambles replete with pulsing thorns. They snaked around her small form, searching…searching. Suddenly, fear flashed across her face; the energy was starting to overwhelm her.
“Shien, help me!” She cried out as her body was beginning to disappear behind the bands of power. The young man was at a loss as what he could do. She was slowly being swallowed up, cocooned by the very energies she had started in rage. It was as if the brambles were seeking a target and chose Firah. Shien watched helplessly as the energy engulfed the girl. She screamed out in terrified alarm while he shouted to her in vain.