Omar did his best to look intimidating and project a sense of safety to anyone who saw him as he marched through the streets of Mountain Acropolis with his squad. He wasn’t here for just anyone, but it would help all the same.
Dawn had broken, and the raiders had been repelled.
“Hah.” He snorted – the truth was more that they had accomplished their goals and fled, than that they had been repelled.
“What’s so funny, Omar? Something you want to share?” His squad commander, David, just had to but in.
“No, I just think-” He heard the sound of shallow breathing in the restaurant a little way down the street.
Omar was a scout, and a large portion of his cultivation was focused on the senses, and the mental cultivation required to handle that.
“Stop.” At his command, they all halted immediately. He wasn’t their commander, but in times like this, his words carried weight.
He listened more closely, tuning his hearing in that direction. Even with all the mental cultivation he had, it was still impossible to be aware of every little thing his senses picked up – only his training allowed the breathing to come through where most things didn’t. The world was filled with tiny noises that could be overwhelming, even when to a mortal, things were almost silent.
The breathing itself wasn’t important – he had heard similar from many of the buildings around him, from the survivors huddling inside their homes or businesses. What was important was the location – the restaurant the sound was coming from was an upper-class establishment where many officers and upstanding crafters dined.
It was worth checking out.
###
Evan tried his best to keep a close eye on his surroundings and focus, but between his injuries and the long night he couldn’t stay awake. All that wine from earlier didn’t help either.
His sleep was fitful – he was frequently woken up by shouts, screams, pleas, and the unmistakable sound of violence. It was like a nightmare he couldn’t escape, but he stayed where he was.
After all the blood loss and what he thought was a concussion, he no longer felt that he was in a good enough state to be making decisions, so he trusted the spot he had picked before and stayed still, even if he kept swimming in and out of consciousness.
Eventually though, he awoke to the sounds of something different, and much more alarming. People. Inside the restaurant.
They called out. “Attention! We are searching for survivors after the tragedy that took place last night. If you can, please reveal yourselves. I am Officer David, and you may need urgent medical attention.”
He ignored them and tried to breathe quietly. After the events of last night, he no longer trusted that they wouldn’t be enemy soldiers trying to lure him out.
The voices moved closer, and he tensed and looked around for anything he could use as a weapon. It wouldn’t do him any good, but you never know.
He was foolish and hadn’t made a weapon, something he deeply regretted now. Perhaps a firearm of some kind was beyond him, but a sharp dagger? Easily done.
The name wasn’t one he recognized, but he wasn’t that familiar with the officers in the military anyway – between his own future status and the recognition of Master Isaac, a mere officer couldn’t enter his eyes for long, at least without being outstanding.
“Again, this is Officer David, and a scout has already noticed the presence of someone inside the building. Please reveal yourself – we understand it would be a bad idea to approach you currently, but rest assured we know your location in the back of the kitchen; we are not your enemies.”
‘Officer David’ sounded a lot less pleasant and more frustrated now, and Evan deliberated on whether they were lying to him.
If they were enemies, they wouldn’t have announced themselves, right? At least, not if they already knew where he was.
Evan decided to reveal himself. He slowly stood, his aches and pains flaring up after having sat still for so long. He probably did need medical attention – he was probably suffering from quite a bit of blood loss, and his head was still feeling a little foggy.
Stumbling his way through the kitchen – not making any attempt at being quiet, now – he soon exited and found himself once more presented with the grisly scene of the slaughter that took place last night. Just outside the restaurant, clearly not wanting to step inside, was a squad of three men and one woman.
They were dressed in the uniforms of the military, and as Collapse was often closely related to rank, he could tell that all of them were likely at their third Collapse, while the captain – Officer David – was likely at the peak of the third or the start of the fourth.
Altogether, he already felt safer after having seen them. The ones who attacked last night wouldn’t bother with trying to deceive him, he felt – not to this level. He’d have already been attacked most likely.
They stood together in an orderly formation, and radiated confidence. It was earned, he supposed. Most soldiers were only at the second Collapse – any higher and they were more useful elsewhere.
A sudden surge of vitriol overcame him, as he realized the ones who attacked last night had to be at the third Collapse as well – the restaurant was expensive, and not just anyone could dine there.
“You shouldn’t be so cocky. The attackers last night were of at least the third Collapse to have killed almost everyone inside.” The words were almost spat out, but at that moment, the anger felt right.
With the danger seemingly over, his anger began to rise as he realized how incredibly incompetent the military was to have let the attackers have free reign over the outpost last night.
How could they have let people so powerful into the outpost? He had nearly died! Would have, if not for his quick thinking!
“Watch your mouth, boy. I am an officer of the military of Starspire, and I don’t like your tone. Who are you and what happened? Why did they spare you?”
“Who am I?” Evan laughed – it had been a long time since someone had asked him that, what with his uniform and obvious profession. He might have been missing his uniform, but surely they could tell he was… or, well, maybe they couldn’t.
He didn’t care.
“I am Formations Master Isaac’s apprentice, Evan, and I don’t much like your tone.” Perhaps it was a little foolhardy, to so clearly clash with someone so much stronger than himself at a time where it would be easy to make him disappear, but he wasn’t feeling well and was already angry.
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A moment passed, as they tried to process that, but it passed quickly, and they all changed expressions immediately. Officer David seemed to have good command of his squad for none of them spoke over him.
“I apologize, Formations Master Evan. With you having lost your uniform in the struggle, we didn’t realize who you were. Please forgive me and allow me to escort you back to safety. You appear to need urgent medical attention.” That was more like it.
An awkward silence ensued, and after a moment, he responded. “Very well. I think I have a concussion and have suffered from some blood loss. My head is somewhat woozy, and I had to use my clothes to create some bandages.”
Evan almost felt bad after he saw the rapid one-eighty degree change in how he was treated, after they realized he was a bigger fish than they could handle, even if they could easily crush him with their strength.
The woman stepped forward at a wave from David and started speaking. “Formations Master Evan, I am a utility mage and know a few healing spells, and have some first aid equipment on hand. Would you allow me to rebandage your wounds and treat your pain?”
“That would be lovely, thank you, but I will pass on the pain spell.” She didn’t question him and retrieved a bag from her waist, pulling out a roll of bandages almost instantly – so quickly it struck him as odd, and he realized it was a spatial item of some sort.
His estimation of them rose a notch – they were incredibly expensive – and it further increased as the woman fussed over his wounds, carefully removing his hack job before once again getting permission to cast a spell on him for killing infections.
The spell stung, but he was somewhat uncomfortable with a spell that would dull his pain. He was injured and didn’t want to worsen anything by not being aware of the damage he was doing to himself. As it was, he was worried – magical healing was expensive, and he wasn’t sure what the bill would come out to – at the very least, he would want his concussion healed, as he was fairly certain those were permanent otherwise.
Everything else, he would probably let heal on its own, even if it would make life a little miserable for a while. Some of his wounds had looked quite nasty, but he didn’t think he’d shattered any bones or suffered any serious damage.
The first aid took nearly half an hour – healing spells weren’t quick to cast, and he needed a lot of bandages. All that stone shrapnel had really done a number on him.
Afterwards, they set off towards some infirmary that he was assured wouldn’t be filled with mortals, and that was when it really struck him.
I’m an asshole. That’s not the sort of thing someone says to someone unless they’ve already made that estimation.
Even worse, a large part of him simply didn’t care. They were rude to him first, likely thinking he was just part of the cooking staff or something – his cultivation was nothing special for the restaurant, even the staff.
It seemed like every day he drifted a little further from the hopeful orphan who joined the military – his past self, even if he was as injured as he currently was, would simply lack the spine to talk back someone like the officer, no matter the circumstances.
He didn’t dwell on it though – change was inevitable, and he hurt too much for such introspection at the moment.
***
Once they arrived at the infirmary, a laborious half-hour journey that had him wishing to be carried – not that he could ask, given his status – he found himself once more amongst a scene of horror.
Just as promised, nobody he could see or detect seemed to be mortals, but the infirmary still seemed to be completely packed, the walls lined with filled cots, with only a thin curtain separating them from one another at the sides.
The front was open though, and what he saw would scar his mind forever. Dozens of men and women were less than whole and had suffered a large variety of different injuries. He saw some covered with burns, and missing a limb was nothing out of the ordinary.
Staff ran all over the place, with bandages, medicine, and… surgical tools being frequently traded between themselves. It was chaos.
All he could smell was the stench of blood, antiseptic, and medicine. Part of him wanted to leave, but he was quickly rushed off to one of the doctors, an aged man who seemed none too happy to see him.
He tried to ignore the background chorus of pained moans and cries.
“Who is this, Officer David?”
“This is Formations Master Evan, under Formations Master Isaac, sir. He was found at one of the restaurants frequently-”
“Enough. Get him a bed, and someone will see to his wounds.”
“…Yes, sir.”
That the man was treated so respectfully by Officer David spoke volumes to Evan – his cultivation was much stronger than his own, but only seemed to be at the second Collapse in his estimation. Was he a healer of some kind?
Flagging one of the various other healthcare workers, he was soon brought to a cot of his own in the back of the infirmary, where they helped him lay down.
Officer David left, and after seeing that he wasn’t going to randomly expire, they studied his bandages before leaving without a word.
He was happy enough with this. While he wanted to be healed, he understood that at the moment, there were others in more desperate need of attention.
Slowly, he found himself once more falling asleep, and this time he didn’t resist. He just wanted to leave this nightmare behind.
***
When he woke up, there were lights inside the infirmary, for it was now dark out. The previous chaos seemed to have settled down, and the cries and moans he had heard before had decreased in frequency.
Evan felt a lot better, and that surprised him. At some point in his sleep, someone had laid a blanket over him, and as he moved his arms out from under them, he noticed that someone had changed his bandages.
He couldn’t feel any pain, though whether that was thanks to magic or medicine he didn’t know. A scent of soothing medicine was definitely present, and his head felt much better than it had previously.
Soon enough, someone noticed he was awake, and within ten minutes of waking up the doctor he had seen previously arrived.
Now that his mind was filled with less pain and was clearer, he could get a good look at the aged man. He reminded him a little of Master Isaac, just due to his expression – it was one of calm patience, though the man lacked the slow pace his master seemed to have.
He was shorter than Evan but taller than his master and had spots of grey in his otherwise blonde hair that he rarely saw these days. Almost everyone he interacted with was more than capable of getting their hands on some Substance to extend their lives, and he knew that healing magic could go a long ways in allowing the body to age gracefully.
“Good evening, Evan. I am Lifeweaver Quintin Grant. I trust that you are doing much better?” The man’s voice had a casual air about it, although after how respectfully most people treated him, just being addressed by his name sounded almost odd.
Evan chuckled politely. “Indeed I am, Lifeweaver Grant. Do I have you to thank for that? I truly feel quite good at the moment – a lot better than I had expected after waking up.”
The man smiled, as though Evan had just allowed some great joke to pass over his head. “Yes, I am the one who healed you. You suffered from a concussion, and that is not an easy to thing to heal. I did not heal anything else, though, and for that I apologize. There were – are – many that also need healing, and my mana is limited.
“You are quite lucky, Evan. For someone who was hit with stone shrapnel, you suffered remarkably little serious injury, and you don’t have any cultivation for toughening your body up.”
He suddenly felt quite awkward. It was strange that the man knew his cultivation, but he was a healer, so he supposed it made sense. Why did the Lifeweaver want to speak with personally, though? His standing sounded quite high, and while Evan had some status thanks to his master and his future ability, he didn’t think it would amount to much before a true healing mage – they were incredibly rare and valued for good reason.
At least, that was what he assumed a Lifeweaver was. It wasn’t a profession he was familiar with, but he didn’t know much about how the professions of mages were categorized to begin with.
“Lifeweaver Grant, I am endlessly thankful for your assistance, but why did you wish to speak with me?”
The man smiled again. “Ah, I just wished to introduce myself to you. You were, as I said, quite lucky, and at such a young age, your cultivation is impressive considering your background. More formally speaking, I wanted to check on your condition. Concussions can affect the mind, and healing them can worsen this, but you appear to be alright.”
Having heard that, Evan felt his heart flutter in his chest. That was incredibly scary and made him glad Grant – someone who must have vast experience, given his apparent age – had done the healing.
“You are now formally discharged from the infirmary, Evan, and I would kindly ask that you leave as soon as possible – we need the bed. You should be fine after within a week or two, but if you want to avoid scars, you will need to be diligent about applying some ointment and taking it easy.”
After having said that, the Lifeweaver left him to his thoughts as another healer stepped close and whispered something to him.
What a strange old man.