It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear with barely a handful of clouds in sight; the sun was warm; the breeze was cool. Autumn was coming, but it hadn’t gotten there yet. Though Rick had doubts, the weather would get cold enough, it would snow. Some part of the man wished the weather would reflect his mood for once, but he suspected that “shark-tornado in the middle of an earthquake” was not something he’d want to unleash into the world.
Then again, it might have been therapeutic.
It would certainly help distract him from the growing stomach ache. But that’s just what he got for poisoning himself a little. A part of him was glad at the feeling. It meant Yasir had done his part without a hitch. He just hoped his guesstimate at the meal’s toxicity was correct as well. The intent was to raise alarms, not kill. Someone dying from the thing could make things… complicated.
Either way, Rick still had to put his house in order first.
Which was why he now stood before Dia. The healer wore slick black metal armor covered in razor sharp thorns. She was staring at him through the narrow slit of the visor, and though her expression was impossible to see, he could sense she was practically glowing in frustration that bordered on betrayal.
The inside of the tent felt heavy despite it only having two occupants.
“Neither of them can be trusted.” Her tone was harsh and impatient.
“Are you sure you don’t want to add Monica to that list, too?” He asked, noting how the debris of the ‘skull throne’ had been cleaned up.
The Rapha huffed. “Do you think I forgot who put you on the operating table the first time we met?” She glared, stepping closer and pointing an incriminating finger his way. “But at least it’s obvious Monica has your best interests at heart. She’s just taken a while to learn what that means.”
Rick swatted away her hand. “And you’re saying Kiara didn’t help take care of the Vampires?”
“Only because the bond forced her. She sold you to them!”
“She sought them out when we were being chased down by ferals we had no way to fight against.” He stood his ground, though he was feeling clammy. “And in Eva’s case, she lost control.”
“She attacked you.” Dia snapped back. “She tore into you while bonded. Don’t you see how dangerous that is!? What that represents!?”
“Again, she lost control. And-”
“YOU ALMOST DIED!” Her voice roared through the helmet. The maiden reached out to his shirt, pressing her hand against his scars. “You almost didn’t make it. Does that not count for anything? Can people just nearly kill you and all will be well if it wasn't intentional!?”
He hesitated. With a grimace, he looked away. “I’m not suicidal, Dia. And I’m not blind either.”
“Then why aren’t you letting me help you?”
He took a step closer. “I need you to take your helmet off.”
“Answer the question!” She moved out of his reach, raising her barbed bracers and tightening up.
Rick looked at her, into her, into the narrow slit of her visor, barely able to see her face within the dark confines of the helmet. Taking in a calming breath, he moved closer, reaching out to her.
“Don’t move.”
She flinched, but didn’t step away, arms half raised but still. Rick clasped the helmet and pulled at it, ignoring the bite of its barbs. Dia’s face was a mix of pain and sorrow, her violet eyes shimmering as she dared not look away from him.
He breathed, putting the helmet down. “I want you to help me take over the tribe.” He met her violet eyes head on.
“You… you could just lay back, let me handle things. Monica might grow bored and leave eventually, but I’ve been… I’ve been working hard. I’m the main healer, they respect me. They would leave us alone even if Monica stepped down so long as we didn't leave. And she might not want to lead, but she likes it here! She hasn’t started a single fight!”
“And Sinco?” His question made her hesitate. “And the Kingdom? The Vampires? They will come for this tribe. And we will get caught in the crossfire because Urtha doesn't care about the broader picture.” His back straightened, ignoring the revolution currently happening in his guts. “What I want is the power to protect what’s mine. That is what all of this is for.”
The Rapha lowered her head, focusing on his hands, reaching out and grasping them in her metal gloves. Green energy poured from her touch, soothing him. Rick’s fingers tingled lightly as Dia’s expression shifted, gaze lingering on his chest.
“Do you know why people avoid healers that leave scars? Why many see it as a death sentence?”
“I can’t say I do.” Was the room spinning? No, it was only him.
The headache was getting worse.
“Scar tissue does not react properly to healing. It is a very straining task. The only viable option is to remove the scarred tissue entirely and then have a fleshcrafter regenerate it back up, but the more regenerated flesh you have, the likelier things can go… bad. It is just not quite the same as the original.” She whispered. “And no matter how good or how fast the healer is, tiny amounts of scarring always occur with any injury. If the body isn’t allowed to remove it on its own, the scars accumulate.” Dia raised her deep violet eyes, concern clear in the shimmering pools. “Rick, these scars aren’t just skin deep. If you ever get seriously hurt again, I won’t be able to save you.”
Well shit.
“You’re absolutely right.” He wanted to scream. This was not how he should’ve done things. “And… things will turn for worse before they go for the better.”
“You…” Something about his tone must have tipped her off. Dia looked at him closely. “Something’s wrong.”
“Do you trust me?” His voice came down to a whisper.
“No, no, I absolutely do not trust you.” Dia stated, stepping closer, reaching out to touch his forehead. “Not when you keep pushing yourself into… what… this is… you’ve-!”
“Quietly.” Rick made a face. Cat was out of the bag. He was on a timer now. “How dangerous is it?”
“This…” She leaned back, then frowned, realization clear in her eyes. “I’m never going to stop you from harm, am I?” Her hands clenched into fists. “You’re not even conscious for a whole day and… this. Why? How!?”
He sighed, feeling a wave of relief through him from her powers pouring into him. Though the discomfort was still there. “How bad is it?”
“Not enough. But you’re still recovering, I… you’re not in danger from this much, but I shouldn’t be telling you that this is not good for your body at all!” She flickered between anger and concern, voice remaining a whisper.
“Calm down.”
“Don’t you dare!” Dia hissed. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down when you…”
“The walls have ears,” he whispered.
She glared, stomped. “No, no, this… this is unfair, this is stupid, I don’t care. I could become the best fighter in the world and it wouldn’t change a thing!”
“A fighter?”
“Why do you think I put this on!?” She gestured at the armor. “My healing cannot bring you back from the brink if you get yourself hurt again. Again! The only option I have left is to do my best to protect you! But sometimes it seems like the biggest threat to your life is yourself! You just keep pushing into these situations where you know you will get hurt! Over and over!” She paced back and forth. “Eva and Kiara, they’re dangerous, they’re hurting you, they HAVE hurt you! Do you want me to just sit back and watch how they tear you to shreds!?”
“They… they are mine now.” He muttered, trying to say things in whatever way she could understand best. Dia had grown in the Kingdom, hers was the language of ownership. A 'team' didn't work if they answered to different people.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
His stomach was on its way to roll over and empty itself, but he held firm.
“I can’t let that mean nothing. It would’ve been different if they’d betrayed me, but they haven’t.”
“They nearly got you killed!” Dia leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his chest. “And do you think Eva will one day stop craving blood!? That Kiara will stop being ready to stab you in the back when it becomes convenient for her!?” She waved at the tent entrance. “Nothing you do will change their nature!”
“What they are doesn’t determine who they are!” His voice rose. The hard tone caught him by surprise, not sure where the sentiment had come from but agreeing with it fully. He stepped forward. “Are you saying that if a Vampire had turned me into a Fledgling I’d suddenly be someone you can’t trust!? Does it mean that I should only trust you if it’s about healing because you’re a Rapha!?”
“That’s not… you know it’s not what I mean.” Dia lowered her voice, looking away, fists clenched tightly.
“And you know what I’m trying to tell you.” He softened his words, stepping closer. “Look past what they are and focus on what they’ve done. What you’d have done in their place.”
She bit her lip. “I would rather die before hurting…” The maiden paused, her eyes closed. Dia sighed, hands opened and hung limp at her sides. “No, that’s a lie. I’ve hurt you too. Is this what you want? To be hurt?”
“I don’t. I very much don't like being hurt.”
Some part of him refused to believe those words. His mind turned back to that very first day in this world. The forest, the screams, of the things that were his fault. Maybe he deserved some of this. But he pushed that thought away, reaching out and caressing Dia’s hair instead.
This wasn’t the time for him to dwell on those memories.
“I’m not asking you to trust Kiara or Eva. I’m asking you to give them a fair chance.” He pulled her close, at least as much as the thorn armor would allow. “And maybe not wear this thing all day. It makes hugging you a hazard. Where did you find it, anyway?”
“It was the Vampire’s. She ran away, so it’s mine now.” She was petulant, pouting and looking away. “It’s murisium, really expensive. I thought it made me look strong. But everyone laughs anyway… the healer trying to be fierce.” Pressing her head against his shoulder, she sighed. “The healer that can’t even stop her Master from jumping into the fire.”
“But you did it because you wanted to take the tribe to Sinco and help them against the ferals, right?” Rick kissed the crown of her head. “I think it’s pretty heroic. What was the word you used? Maidenly?”
Nodding again, she bumped her forehead against his shoulder twice. “How do you do it? This? I should be angry with you. Angrier. You… you’re doing it again, hurting yourself.”
“Fortunately, I learned a thing or two over the years.”
“I’d like to hear about... your other relationships, from before… when you’re ready.” She leaned away, picking up the helmet and putting it on. It only left the weak smile on her lips visible.
Her request brought a complicated set of emotions within Rick. It was never easy to talk about old flames, much fewer ones that ended the way they had. Some part of him felt that being in this new world could double as a fresh start.
“I will. And…” He hesitated. “No more secrets. We walk through these things together. I’ll even ask for permission first if I think I’ll get hurt.”
“Liar,” she mumbled, leaning into him. “But I’ll take it. I’ll stand by your side, no matter how stupid your plans are.”
“If it’s stupid, but it works, it’s not stupid.”
“I severely disagree with that statement.” Dia grumbled. “Stupid works by luck. And luck runs out.”
He chuckled, stopping as soon as he felt the nausea flare out. “It’s an art.” He grimaced.
Dia’s glowing hands slowly caressed his chest. “How are you feeling? What do you need?”
“It’s getting worse, but it’s still manageable. All I need is to just stay distracted for now.” He glanced at the entrance of the tent, and then back to Dia, shifting his tone to a stricter one. “Tell me about Sinco and the ferals.”
The Rapha stiffened, shoulders squaring and chin raising. “From what I could gather from the Politas-”
“The small armored bug girls?”
“Yes, they serve as the healers of the tribe. Their skills leave… much to be desired. The tribe mostly keeps them around for the humans and the drinks.”
“They make that sweet drink, right?” Rick nodded and immediately regretted it. His head throbbed wildly.
Dia’s mouth opened slightly, then snapped close. “The drink in its raw form is perfectly safe to take, and even serves to boost stamina. But it has a lot of sugar, taking it frequently would be harmful.” Her words came out woody and strained. “Returning to the subject at hand, sir. The tribe claims the Ghoul showed up with the Fledglings and took over almost at the same time the feral rush began. Not long after, a second group of Fledglings showed up with the ferals that are now in the pens. The tribe worked building those boxes to contain them.”
“But the ferals weren’t killed.”
A quick nod. “Aside from being food for the blood-suckers, the ferals were being interrogated. Their curse would be broken and they would be questioned. If they weren’t willing to join the Vampires then…”
“Back into the box as a meal.” Rick frowned. His eyes were losing focus. “But they’re not feralborn. They were kidnapped.”
“That is what the rumor claims. The Vampires were using the bandits to steal bond-collars and kidnap humans from villages at a very aggressive scale.” Dia’s voice strained with anger. “They sold everything stolen at a price. They paid the tribe with gold coins, mostly to incentivise the bandits and placate the Orcs.”
Which confirmed everything Kiara had said, but left the question over how… coincidental it had all been. A feral attack right as the blood-suckers showed up? Followed by mass kidnapping? Rick suspected there would be more trouble ahead. “Anything of Sinco itself?”
“As far as anyone knows, they’ve been holding tight. But it doesn’t look like the feral wave is relenting. The bandits claim they were betrayed by the baron, but how true that is remains anyone’s guess. They would say anything to avoid consequences.” She shook her head slightly. “The tribe intercepted an increasing number of messengers over the past month, all requesting aid for Sinco.”
Rick looked at Dia’s still form, and the unspoken question that lingered in her words. There was little doubt about what she wanted. But his question returned to what he wanted. It was as if he’d been thrown back to the day he’d left Balet, escaping the grasp of people who could make his life far too complicated.
And now he had a choice again.
“We’re going to help Sinco, but you need to understand it will not be for the sake of helping, and it will take some time to gather the inertia. I want to carve out a place for all of us, and it will have to include the tribe.” He made a gesture at the door. “The kingdom is a monster. If they go after us, we will not make it. It’s always easier to protect yourself against a larger entity by muddling the waters and integrating into it.”
It was pretty clear Dia did not agree with the sentiment, lips curling slightly. But the maiden remained quiet, nodding marginally. “I-”
She became quiet, glancing at the entrance of the ‘meeting hut’ with what was clearly a scowl. It took Rick a moment to detect whatever had drawn her attention. Shouts came from outside. At first dimly, but quickly growing louder.
“Healer Spikes!”
The flaps at the entrance of the hut opened, and three short maidens entered. They were the Politas, with their chitin armor covered back and long antennae swinging wildly.
“The humans… they’re becoming sick.”
Dia shot Rick a look that penetrated even past the visor of her helmet. He could almost see her brows digging into her nose. The Rapha opened her mouth, and then closed it, stepping closer to him and removing her gauntlet of a glove. Her hand was glowing a soft green as she caressed his forehead.
“You’ve been poisoned.” She hissed, loud enough to be heard, loud enough for others to know.
The show must go on.
Rick would need to have a word with her about trying too hard. “Sure feels like it.” He staggered a moment, she caught him before he could fall. “I need you to act.”
“Anything.” She nodded slowly, fists clenching tightly.
The walls had ears, any number of maidens could be listening in.
“I am giving you an order.” He growled, covering his mouth and swallowing the bile before it got too far up his throat. “Raise the alarm and help the others first. Make sure no one dies. And I’m going to need you to tear a new asshole on Urtha. This could be a counter-offensive from the Vampires.” He took a shuddering breath. “And call for Kiara.”
“What!?” Her anger was quite real, no need for her to pretend.
“She’s a self-serving maiden with empathic abilities.” It was the truth, which made it easier. “A bitch, but one we need. There might be traitors in the tribe, and we have to be sure. She will help if it means the tribe won’t hunt her down. She knows she can’t run away if the tribe hunts her down.”
Except this was his doing. And he hoped Kiara would do exactly what she did best and identify who they needed to get rid of. She’d been working through the tribe while the Ghoul had been in charge, she should keenly know who had been who then. And, with any luck, it would open up their way forward.
He just needed the chance.
Once more Dia opened her mouth, looking at him with a glare that went unseen under her visor. It was obvious she wanted to say it; she wanted to make it clear as day that this was his doing, that he had clearly planned this.
That this was wrong.
But just a flicker of her focus to the Politas was enough to stop her.
“Tell Monica to guard the humans and help Kiara.” He continued. “Eva might be of help if this thing is in people’s bloodstream.” If she could help, then it would also ease some of the negative opinion.
The healer’s shoulders slumped. “Monica will stay with you until things calm down. You need to remain safe.” Her words came with an annoyed edge.
One that vanished the instant Dia had turned to look at the Polita.
Rick felt a chill run down his spine.
“He’s been poisoned too. He will need a healing drink to alleviate the symptoms.”
The Polita nodded, reaching into her satchel and pulled out a wooden mug as she approached Rick. He eyed her suspiciously, then back at Dia who’d opted to stay put and watch him.
The bug-maiden leaned over the cup, focusing on it. She gagged, coughed, and a stream of yellow liquid splashed out of her mouth as she puked into the mug.
“You should drink up.” Dia declared coldly. “Healer’s orders.”
The Polita looked expectantly at Rick, smiling nervously, antennae waving in the air.
Suddenly, it didn’t look as appetizing anymore.