The land here was flatter. It had started flattening out before they had reached Hardan, but he hadn’t really noticed until now. He could still see clusters of trees here and there, or a forest, but much of the area seemed to be flat grassland. Occasionally, off in the distance, he could see herds of some kind of animal. They were too far away for him to identify, even with his scope, so he asked Gabrelle about them.
“Oh, those? They’re wild frurons. You’ve probably seen at least some. They’re the six legged scaly animals that some people use for carts.”
“Is that what they’re called? I never learned the name. Fruron. Froohh-rawhn. Huh. That’s hard to say and I don’t even have lips. Not anything we need to worry about, I assume?”
“Not unless we get in front of a whole herd on the move, then you could run the risk of being trampled. Other than that, you leave them alone, and they’ll leave you alone. Hear they have a nasty bite, though.”
“Mm.” Xander grunted an acknowledgement.
As the light began to dim, they set up camp near the road. As Gabrelle set up the tent, started a fire, and began to cook for herself, Xander busied himself with creating more grenades. He had not replenished his supplies after he’d run out during the ambush on the caravan, and he mentally kicked himself for not doing so, even if there had not been any consequences. This time. He decided that he would continue to create the individual reagents and then combine them into the grenade, as it was still cheaper than creating a grenade or firebottle outright, but he was beginning to realize that with his increased mana pool and rate of regeneration, outright creating grenades to throw was now an option for him, should he find himself running out once again. He managed to create five standard grenades and one soul ripper by the time Gabrelle had finished cooking.
They began to talk as Xander continued making his devices, Gabrelle sitting a few feet away from him, eating her dinner.
“Come up with anything new, lately?” She asked as Xander sealed the top of another grenade.
“Mmm… Not really. I think when we get to Rock’s Bay, I should sit down with an alchemist and see if they have any interesting recipes or reactions they’d be willing to sell to me. And of course, I should keep on with my runeworking. I might be biased, but I feel like I’m pretty good at it. On the other hand, I know that there’s just so much more that I don’t know about it. It’s like a whole other language in some ways, and while I’ve got what amounts to some sentences down, I feel like there’s a lot of nuance and syntax that could change how things operate in certain contexts.”
Gabrelle nodded the kind of nod that one does when they’ve asked about the weather and received someone’s life story instead. “Mmhm.”
Xander didn’t notice anything however, and continued to work on creating more reagents and bombs. “I could also probably improve my gun. It’s got a pretty low amount of shots available to it before I have to refill its clip…” He trailed off, distracted for a moment as he thought of how he might do so without making the thing unwieldy. Perhaps a tube with a spring could hold more? He cleared the thoughts from his head with a shake. “But uh, where was I? Right, improving the gun. I just haven’t gotten around to doing it. I’ve been, well, just a little distracted feeling ever since, you know, I woke up as… me but not me?”
This time, Gabrelle’s nod had more understanding to it. “I think that’s understandable. It’s a big shift for you, surely, and you’re still adjusting. You don’t get over or used to something like what happened to you in a couple of months, Xander. I sort of know how you feel. We were all a bit like that after Ilbek. Seeing you die. Seeing so many others die through the course of the war. I would find myself just… thinking sometimes, instead of doing the things I probably should have been doing. Or just feeling listless.”
“Is that something you’ve managed to get over?”
“For the most part, I suppose. I still find myself dwelling on things. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. But, I don’t flinch anymore when I hear a sword drawn from its scabbard. And I no long recall so vividly the men and women I would find myself healing as they screamed, or bled, or thrashed whenever I see blood or hear a scream. Most of the time. Sometimes, though, it still take me back there, in a way. I don’t… I don’t see things or think that I’m really back there, but my heart will start to race and I feel like I’m getting ready for a fight.”
Xander looked at her thoughtfully. “Gabrelle, have you ever heard of PTSD?”
“Uhm, no, I haven’t. What’s peetee-ehssdee?”
“It’s an acronym. Stands for post-traumatic stress disorder. It used to be called things like battle fatigue in my world, before they called it PTSD. And probably other things long before that. It’s uhh, a condition, that’s common among soldiers, but it can happen to anyone who goes through something traumatic. It can be a lot worse for some people than others, but I couldn’t tell you why, really. You could have three people go through the exact same event and one could come away with no issue, one could have a minor case of PTSD, and the other could have an extreme case. People just… process differently.
“Mmm. Alright? But, what is it? All you’ve told me is that it’s a condition and it can be caused by trauma.”
“Well, I’m not an expert, so my explanation might be flawed. But, we have instincts, right? Certain things come naturally to us, to help us survive. Like how you might jump back without thinking when something startles you suddenly.”
“Right.” Gabrelle said, following so far.
“But we also learn things like that as we go through life. Like muscle memory. If someone were to swing a sword at you, you wouldn’t think ‘oh, alrighty, that guy there is swinging a sword at me, I better bring my arm up at this particular angle to deflect it.’ You’d just do it. Your brain has become accustomed to it and reacts almost for you without thinking. Sword coming at you equals block.”
“Mhmm… I’m not sure what that has to do with how I feel though.” Gabrelle said, thoughtfully.
“I’m getting there. I’m just trying to set a base understanding for you that our brain is really good at doing things and making connections for us so that we can react quickly in situations. Does that make sense?”
“I think so.”
“Well, when you’re exposed to a traumatic event, it obviously makes a big impact on you. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be traumatic. They’re often life threatening or extremely emotionally damaging. Or both. But, you survived. So you have a set of things you can do that will help you survive a traumatic situation. Sooo, some people’s minds, they unconsciously sort of… latch on to that set of things. A soldier with PTSD, they might hear, say the ring of steel, even if it’s just a blacksmith hammering, and their mind, it immediately takes them back to that set of instructions that helped them survive whatever event or events marked them so badly. For some people it’s so bad that they will even think they’re back at that situation, or relive it in some way. To the point where they might become violent when set off in such a way, because they might believe, for instance, that they’re fending off enemy soldiers. For other people, and this is what I think, and emphasis on ‘think,’ that you might be experiencing, it’s less. Something that reminds them in some way of a traumatic event, it puts them in a sort of state of alertness. They can become more easily agitated, you get the things you mentioned before, like a flinch, or racing heart and adrenaline rush. Because your mind associates the thing that set you off, like the sight of blood, with a dangerous, traumatic situation and is getting you geared up to defend yourself in some way.”
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Gabrelle stared at him as he dissected and explained the topic in a mixture of awe and confusion. The awe was from the feeling that one gets when another person explains something to you and suddenly, something somewhere clicks in your mind and the things you’ve been dealing with suddenly make sense. The confusion was because she had no idea how or why Xander would know about this. “I… uhm. That makes sense. It makes… a lot of sense. I never thought of it like that. I’ve heard stories of other soldiers, the one’s who have it really bad. Of men waking up screaming, swinging their sword at anyone who gets close. Things like that. To think, that it’s all, in a way, the same condition, just in varying degrees of severity, as what puts me ill at ease when I see blood sometimes… How do you know about this?”
“Mental health had become a lot more important, and to some extent, better understood in the past few decades in my world. PTSD was especially something that was studied, as it was so damaging to veterans coming home from war. And, as a soldier, well, more like a member of a militia? I went through the same training that full-time soldiers would go through, but I wasn’t a full-time soldier, just had monthly exercises. Anyways, we were all taught about the things to look out for in the soldiers around us that might indicate PTSD, so that we could encourage them to seek treatment.”
“And… what was the treatment?” Gabrelle asked, hopefully.
“Uhm. Well, to tell the truth, I’m not exactly sure. I know that were some very complex medicines used, but my understanding is that a lot of it was sort of deconditioning your body to react that way when something reminded it of the traumatic event. Being aware of the process, mindfulness is what it was called, of your emotions and then doing your best to redirect it, and also exposing yourself to potential triggers in a safe environment. Well, I think the exposure part only happened if the case was light enough that there wasn’t a risk of the patient flying into a rage or something. I never really witnessed anything like that myself.”
“Mmm. So you’re saying that, when I see blood and my heart starts to race, I should just… be aware of it? What does that even mean?”
“Uhm, just understanding why it makes you feel that way. So, when your heart starts to race or you feel like you’re getting ready for a fight in a situation where that’s not helpful, acknowledge to yourself that you understand why you are feeling this, be aware of the things that are happening in your mind and body. And then, start to do what you can to bring yourself down from that heightened state. It’s definitely something that takes time and practice. And, honestly, I can’t even guarantee that I explained it properly, or that it will work for you. Sorry, Gabrelle, if I got your hopes up. I didn’t mean to try and make you feel like I had some kind of ‘cure’ for it.”
“No, no, Xander. Don’t be sorry. I’m… glad, actually. I’m glad that I can begin to put a finger on why these things really happen to me. Even if it’s something I never get over, just… knowing has made it much less distressing. Before, I hated that I didn’t understand why it would happen, because I know that so many other people saw so much blood, too. But Graffus, his heart doesn’t race like mine at the sight of it. It… it made me feel weak, like I was less than the others because of it. Having an explanation, and you mentioning that it doesn’t affect everyone the same, it’s helped me at the very least with that.”
Xander had stopped creating grenades as he began to explain his rather limited understanding of the nuances of mental health to Gabrelle. As she finished speaking, he scooted closer to her and wrapped her in a hug. “Gabrelle, you are not weak, and you are not lesser than anyone on the team. Not now, and I’d wager not then, either. I don’t know what you, and the rest of the team, went through. Maybe I never will, and that’s okay. But you survived, and you’re strong.” He dropped the hug and placed his helmeted forehead against hers, placing his hands carefully on her shoulders. “Don’t you ever let anyone tell you that you’re less than what you are because of what you feel.” He gave her shoulders a small squeeze and then lifted his head away from hers.
Gabrelle stared at Xander. She hadn’t seen him so passionate about many things before, and certainly not recently. “Thank you, Xander.” She said at last, trying to think of a response. “I think I needed to hear that…”
“You’re welcome. I can’t guarantee that I’ll always have a response like that in the wings for you, but I can guarantee that I’ll do my best to listen when you need to let things out. You’ve given me the same courtesy, after all. Now let’s get you into bed, the fire’s died down while we were talking.” He stood up, offering a hand to Gabrelle. “You wanna be the big spoon or the little spoon tonight?”
“Big spoon.”
They resumed their journey as the sun crept over the horizon. Xander cast [Golemancer] again – it was the four armed one’s turn – as soon as the ability was off cooldown. Both of them were nearing the same number of casts of it as Juniper had had, which reminded him of a question he had for Gabrelle. “Hey, what happened to Juniper? Did she make it out with you four?”
“Oh, yeah, she’s fine. Same as ever. Helps us out with carrying things and all the little chores of traveling. It’s nice, kind of like having a maid that can actually keep up with a group of adventurers.”
“I guess I did design her to be a helper. You know, it feels weird for her to have a name but not these two. What do you think I should name them?”
“Halberd and Shortsword?” Gabrelle answered, unhelpfully.
“Mmm… no. Definitely no.” Xander said with finality. “I was thinking about Atlas for the one with the shield, and Lynx for the one with the cat feet.”
“Atlas sounds nice. Strong. Where did you come up with it? And Lynx?”
“Atlas was a mythological character who held up the sky. And a lynx is a type of cat from my world. They had big paws to help them walk over snow. So it seemed fitting since I gave that one paws.”
“I think they sound nice.”
“Then Lynx and Atlas it is!”
The newly christened Lynx and Atlas did not react to being named, being that they were golems, but Xander liked that he no long had to think of them as variations of ‘the one with the shield’ and ‘the one with four arms.’
Little of import happened during the rest of their journey to Rock’s Bay. Xander finished stocking up on grenades. Freyja continued her occasional night hunts to keep herself fed. Gabrelle and Xander took up sparring with each other on occasion. Xander spent time attempting to implement a sense of smell, but was unsuccessful. He shelved the idea for when he wasn’t traveling. The ground became sandier the closer they drew to the coast.
It had taken them more than three months, and no small amount of violence, but Xander was finally able to see the buildings of Rock’s Bay over the horizon. He could see fishing boats out on the water, as well as larger ships anchored in the bay. The town surrounded the roughly semi-circular bay, and he could already see the single, monolithic rock that jutted out from near the center of the bay. There was a lighthouse built upon it to guide ships in the dark to the bay as well as to keep them from running aground on the rock itself. Xande guessed that the town was even larger than Anlet, considering that it was able to encompass the entire bay with a myriad of warehouses, living districts and other areas. However, the town seemed to lack the lavish noble estates that Anlet had had. He figured that the ones that held the largest coin purses in this town would be of a mercantile nature, and not nobles.
“There it is, finally,” Gabrelle said. “I’d forgotten how used I had gotten to the smell of the ocean. Ahh, and the breeze. It’s nice, even if it is a bit cold.” She adjusted the cloak she had unpacked a couple of weeks ago from her back as the days continued to grow colder as the wind blew against her hood.
“Just keep me out of the water, thank you very much,” Xander commented. “I’m gonna have to work out some kind of solution to not being able to swim that doesn’t involve me just walking back to the shore.”
“You can’t swim?”
“I mean, I know how to swim. But I’ll just sink like a rock now. Or more accurately, I’ll sink like a large piece of steel.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Maybe I can make some kind of inflatable buoy. That way I could at least get hauled back up… or maybe see if I can’t get my wings to work well enough under water to propel me about. That might work.”
Gabrelle shrugged. “Well, for now try not to let anyone throw you in the bay.” She pointed to the Southern portion of the bay. “We’d been staying at an inn in that area of the town. It’s a good middle ground between the expensive parts and the slums. Plus, it’s not too far from the guild hall.”
“Sounds like a good place to start, they’d probably be using the same inn so you could find them, right?”
“That’s what they said they’d do. But if we can’t find them for some reason, we can check with the guild. They could be out on contract. They’re going to be so surprised to see you.”
“I bet,” Xander replied, and a sudden, gnawing thought seized him. “You don’t think that… they’ll be put off by what I am now, will they?”
“I don’t see why they would… I think you’re worrying about it too much.”
“If you say so.”