After the breathing of the two-leg had stabilised, I decided to look for anything useful that had survived the destruction of the camp. As I walked through the camp, I started to notice a few things that seemed off. Firstly, the wounds inflicted on the two-legs weren’t natural. They were too clean to have come from claws and none of the bodies were eaten. My gaze wandered to a staff laying on the ground. The wounds looked a lot like they could have come from the weapons the two-legs had been carrying. That meant, that whatever or whoever had killed them could wield these items. But why did it kill them? My previous assumption of requiring food obviously wasn’t true.
Secondly, the six-legs were missing. The poles that they had been tied to were still there, but all the creatures had disappeared. That probably meant that they had either escaped or the attacker (or attackers) had taken them. Maybe the six-legs were food? I strolled over, hoping to find a clue to where they had disappeared, and was immediately rewarded for my efforts. The ground inside the camp had been a complete mess of footprints, but here, on the camp's outskirts, you could see signs of multiple creatures leaving.
There were two kinds of footprints. The first was from the six-legs, easily identifiable since I had followed them for an entire day. The second ones, also weren't new to me. Two-legs’ footprints. Both types of footprints led straight onward and disappeared in the distance. I turned around and went back into the camp. Knowing where the attackers had gone was good, but it wouldn't help me right now.
I started rummaging in the remains of the camp and in the end found a couple of things. After returning to my patient, I started inspecting them. There were three flasks with tops that could be screwed off, revealing a transparent liquid. Interesting. What harm could there be in trying some mystery liquid?
Pain. Burning. It's eating into my hand. No matter how hard I try, it doesn’t come off. A monotone voice calls out but I can’t understand its words.
Trying that would be very stupid. A shiver crawls through me. My inner voice and the vision reminded me again that carelessness would get me killed. Before trying any of the liquid, I dripped a couple of drops onto a piece of fabric. It didn’t dissolve. Next, I tried a couple of drops on one of the corpses, hoping that its owner would forgive me. Nothing. Only then did I put a couple of drops on my skin. They felt cool and refreshing against the heat.
Then there was a bag, about as big as my torso, that I had found beneath a broken construction. It contained two red vials, two green vials, one black vial, two leather-bound books, another flask, a smaller bag containing several stripes of brown material, a piece of rope, a sharp curved piece of metal, a brown ring with engravings, and four blue orbs about as big as an eyeball.
All in all, pretty impressive haul, even if I had no idea what half of it was. I was tempted to see what the red, green, and black liquids did, but didn't want to waste any. I opened one of the books but closed it again when I couldn’t understand any of it. My sorting was interrupted by a coughing fit.
I quickly turned towards the two-leg and saw that they were finally moving. I quickly got up and went over to the pole their feeble body was lying against and crouched down. “Hello, can you hear me?" I asked. The two-leg flinched at the sound of my voice and slowly opened their eyes to look at me. After rapidly blinking, their face went through a mix of emotions, before finally settling on something.
My ability to read emotions was almost non-existent but I was certain that there was some measure of resignation in them. The two-leg opened their mouth but only a dry cough escaped. They tried to speak several times, but the words wouldn’t come out. “Everything alright? Can you understand me?” I asked, very concerned. The two-leg ignored me and looked at their surroundings. Spotting the pile of flasks, they lifted a shaking arm and pointed in its direction.
“Do you want this?" I asked while picking one of them up. A nod confirmed my suspicion. Gently placing it into their hand, I helped them pour the contents into their mouth. When half of it was empty, they finally stopped and put it back down. When the two-leg finally spoke it was in a shaky voice, one filled with sadness and regret.
“I never expected to die like this. Killed by bandits. A cruel yet fitting fate.” They chuckled without joy and looked at me. Apparently, there was something strange about my face, because they frowned in confusion. “You look a lot different from your descriptions in the Holy Scriptures.” This confusion was mirrored on my face. “I think you're confusing me with someone else,” I responded.
The look of confusion that spread across the two leg’s face was almost funny. “Aren’t you the Collector, here to take my mortal soul and deliver it to the Judges?” I shook my head in denial. Now the two-leg truly started inspecting their surroundings and what they saw was bleak yet familiar.
“It seems like I’m still alive,” they stated while clutching something around their neck. “Those bastards failed to kill me.” When they let go, I noted a necklace with a strange symbol. The two-leg’s attention returned to me and I could feel their questioning gaze. “If you are not the Collector, then who are you?” A simple question, with a difficult answer. An answer that even I didn’t know.“Let’s worry about that later,” I deflected. The two-leg grunted but let it pass. Their eyes widened a bit at the sight of my clawed hand but quickly returned to normal.
Grateful to have dodged the question, I instead inspected their wound. “Before we do anything else, we need to fix your injury. I did my best, but I am no expert.” I gave them an apologetic shrug. My experience of exactly nothing probably made me one of the worse beings to take care of someone hurt.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
My statement seemed to bring the pain into focus, as the next thing they did was wince. I was impressed that the pain hadn’t registered until now. Falling on my back hurt and I couldn’t even imagine how having a hole in your stomach would hurt. However, the two-leg had a solution and pointed to my pile of various items. “Could you hand me one of the healing potions? The red ones" I quickly gave them the red vile, which they proceeded to empty. It took a while for the effects to start showing but when they did it was impressive. It looked like the two-leg’s skin had a mind of its own, moving and quickly fixing all visible cuts and bruises. A sigh of relief escaped them. With that, they stood up on shaking legs and turned towards me.
“I should probably introduce myself. My name is Pecta and I am grateful for you saving me. What may I call you?” The fact that they were talking, much less standing, was a miracle Was that the effect of a healing potion? Of course you idiot. As for the two- no, Pecta’s question… “Well, it is nice to meet you, especially because you aren’t trying to end me. As for a name, I don’t have one. Call me whatever you want.” The concept of names had been foreign to me but when they had introduced themselves, something clicked. It didn’t hold any importance to me but I understood what it was.
Suddenly Pecta swayed and would have fallen If I hadn’t caught them. Apparently, the effects of a healing potion weren’t as miraculous as they had seemed at first. To avoid any further problems, we both sat down in the warm sand. My head was still filled with questions and now I was ready to unleash them. The first question I asked was, what a two-leg was.
Pecta frowned at that. “Wait, you don’t know what a human is, stranger?” I shook my head. “No, the only living creatures I know are the hole-monster and Clicks. Friendly warning, don’t mess with Clicks. They will swarm and bite you with their stupid little mandibles.” Clicks had left a lasting impression on me.
After Pecta explained that he was a male human, I tried to ask another question but he stopped me. “I am grateful that you saved me but before you ask anything else I need to confirm something. Is there anyone else alive?” I expected a sad reaction to the tragic news but instead, he brushed it off and continued. “Is there anything useful that survived the bandit attack? And where did you get such a high-class healing potion?”
When I explained to him that I found it all in a bag he frowned and went to inspect the pile. I was a bit annoyed that he wasn’t answering my questions but the fact that I had someone to talk to made it all worth it. When I walked over to him, he stood motionless with the ring in his hand. I leaned over, interested, and asked, “Do you know what these inscriptions mean?”
“May divinity fall, and freedom rise,” he muttered. Pecta didn’t turn to me but just continued staring at it. Suddenly, he pulled back his arm and threw the ring into the distance. I stared in the direction the ring had flown, not understanding what just happened. “Why did you do that?”
Pecta shuddered. “I don’t know how that thing got here but it is cursed and you shouldn’t go near it.” With that, he continued looking through the salvaged items. I was extremely curious about the obvious story behind it but let Pecta have his secret. There were topics I didn’t want to talk about and there were topics he didn’t want to talk about.
When Pecta got to the dagger he stared at it for a while. I expected it to get the same treatment as the ring but the human just put it back down and continued searching. When he was finished, he stood back up with a downcast expression. “Is this everything you found? No additional food or water?”
At my answer, Pecta sighed and let himself fall backwards into the sand. I winced, as I knew from experience that that wasn’t completely pain-free. “Everything okay?” I tentatively asked. “No,” was the answer I got. Before I could ask for clarification, Pecta explained. “There are four flasks of water and one bag of dried meat. The nearest city is at least a week's travel away. I am no genius but that doesn’t sound survivable. Not to mention, the countless other dangers, like whiteswarms, sandworms, and bandits.” A sigh escaped his lips. “Thank you for saving me but it seems to have been for naught. Or do you have a secret stash? Wait, how do you survive in the desert without water.” I shrug. “Don’t need it.”
Pecta laughed at the irony. “Well, better get going. If you would be so kind, leave the poison here. I don’t know how it got here but I pray to Persa that it’s one of the painless kind.” I looked at the green and black vial and shuddered. So that’s what it was. Still, even if my new companion thought it was hopeless, I wouldn’t let him throw his life away.
“Come on, I am sure that we will find a solution. If you just give up, then everything you worked for in life will be for nothing. You can have all the water and I even know where the bandits, whatever they are, went, so there is no chance of us meeting them.”
“Everything I ever worked for will be for nothing?” Pecta bitterly asked. “That would probably be an improvement. And no, even then it wouldn’t work. There isn’t enough water.” I thought very hard but my mind was coming up blank. “What if we ask the bandits nicely for water?” I was just throwing ideas out there but this one seemed to affect Pecta. He stood back up and thoughtfully stared into the distance. “That could work,” he begrudgingly stated. “Asking them for water?” I asked. I didn’t know what bandits were but I didn’t think that creatures who would kill others would be willing to give free water. “No, not ask,” Pecta corrected. “Take would be a more appropriate word.” I shifted uncomfortably. “That does not sound very nice.” My former patient just stared at me before pointing at the carnage surrounding us. “Fair point,” I conceded.
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Abnar watched as the two mortals got up and started walking. With a mental command, the view focused on the abomination. Watching it use its powers to heal the human had brought up ancient memories. “That power is dangerous,” Rashyta stated from next to him. Abnar ignored the Goddess of Justice and kept studying the orb.
Thousands of years had passed but the memories were still fresh. He rarely doubted himself but now he was starting to worry if letting it live was more detrimental than beneficial to him. His daughter spared a look at the orb. Her face twisted into a sneer of disgust. "So that abomination has met one of the false worshipers. Why doesn't that surprise me? Those two wretched mortals fit together." "Former false worshiper," Abnar correct her offhandedly. "He now follows your sister.” Rashyta made a face as if she had eaten something sour. "That's why I don't like her. She is too forgiving and some people just don't deserve it." She continued rambling, but Abnar wasn't listening anymore. His eyes were focused on the abomination. He would let it live until it had served its purpose. After that it would be too risky to keep alive and he would dispose of it.