They didn’t leave the next day, or the day after. The exhaustion hit and that next morning they lacked even the energy to crawl out of bed. When they finally emerged, they managed to find a good supply of preserved food in the house, so they ate well at least. A last meal for the dying. The family that lived here had been stocking up for winter.
After that, they spent the next few days chatting, recovering from their ordeal and planning their next moves.
On the third day, they had a visitor. Somebody from the village had seen the smoke on the horizon and gone to investigate. They had noticed the hoof prints on the road, and come to find out what had happened.
They had a very brief conversation from across a field, before the visitor backed off, glad they were alive but also leaving as rapidly as possible. They would go back to the village, inform the others of their fate, and then quarantine themselves for several days at home.
Brickwrath had a lot of time to think about what had happened, and if what they had done was the right approach.
Most things that lived in the wilds kept to themselves, but Cericil wasn’t the first city lost to the jungle, and not the first to be lost to fungi. There was a reason all the guard stations stocked sealed, spore-proof masks and anti-fungal soap, and a reason that how to deal with it was the first lecture they got when joining the army.
It could have been worse, he thought. It could have been a dragon, or just a really big monster, and then they would have had no way of dealing with it. At least the mushroom had been stupid.
He wondered why Tole had evacuated, rather than fought. Maybe the oncoming winter, maybe their standing army was elsewhere.
He would probably never know, but he had no regrets about how they had handled it.
-
On the fourth day, an hour before they were due to set out, one of the horses fell sick.
A few hours later, so did its partner, both of them keeling over, one after the other, dripping foam from their mouths, their lungs making noises like kittens, their eyes sad.
Elegantlillies did the killing, while he built the funeral pyre around their bodies, trying to harden his heart. He had seen worse things, in the last week, even, but he still felt the loss deep in his soul.
If the horses had names, then he hadn’t known them, and neither did Elegantlillies, but they had been important to the village and good companions to them both over the past week or so.
He was starting to lose track of time, four days' rest had not been enough, but it would have to do.
Without the horses, it was going to be a slow trek towards Tole and more difficult to evacuate the village, but they couldn’t take the risk.
And so they left, the funeral pyre burning bright behind them.
-
Several days of walking bought them back to the edge of the village. He stood back as Elegantlillies signalled from a distance that they were still alive and that the horses were not. Tears ran down her face as she shouted words to her family, and Brickwrath tried not to listen.
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The villagers would understand the situation and know to stay out of their wake. The rest wasn't for him.
Three more days of walking to reach his farm. Daisygreens had already been liberated by the villagers, a good goat never going to waste, and he hoped they would take care of her. Goat stew was tasty, but she would be old and stringy, and he was fond of her.
Without her, the farm felt cold and empty, and they only stayed for a day to replenish their energy and supplies before setting off again.
Neither of them was dead yet, and that was a good thing! A small part of him was hoping this was a sign, that maybe they would survive, but, the thing had taken a whole city and caused another to evacuate, it couldn’t be that easy, could it?
More walking. They talked sometimes, but most of it was spent in silence. They had bought a good supply of food with them, and although the days had been long, he felt much better than he had the day after they burnt the Thing. His old fitness was starting to return, muscles toughening back up under stress. He would never be in his twenties again, but his body still remembered.
-
The outskirts of Tole looked much the same as they had when he had last visited. His cart was still abandoned in the middle of the road. The oilcloth eaten away by rain and the goods within a little damaged, but otherwise untouched.
He ran a hand over the carefully packed statues, before reaching into a box and pulling out one the size of a large marble. He remembered making this one, back in the autumn, and the shape of it felt warm and comfortable in his hand.
His own private guardian. With a rueful shake of his head, he slipped it into his pocket.
He heard her footsteps approaching from behind, and then Elegantlillies lay a hand on his shoulder, drawing him into a hug.
“I guess this is it, then.” She wrapped him tight in her arms for a moment, and he returned the embrace, before an unspoken signal caused them both to separate. He wanted to reassure her that the city was safe, but he knew that wasn’t her main worry.
She had spoken quietly to him of her son, a man named Cornflower. He was in his late twenties, and the last she heard he had been living with his partner, a man named Mintsteam, in the second ring of the city.
Brickwrath stared into the cart for a moment, and then selected another small gargoyle, pressing it into her hands. “I made these to be guardians, may they protect us now.”
A silly ritual, but she smiled as she looked down at it, running her thumb over its face even if the smile couldn’t reach her eyes. After inspecting it for a moment she nodded and slipped the gargoyle into a pocket. Together, they made their way towards the city.
-
Nothing had changed. They liberated masks from within the first guard station, the last of the supply he had broken into last time, and then made their way in without hesitation.
They had bought a crowbar and a hammer with them to jimmy the gates, but their first destination was the house, the last known abode of her son and his partner.
The home was dark and locked, much the same as the rest of the city, the shutters barred from the inside. The crowbar made quick work of the lock, though, and they made their way inside, not knowing what they would find and not daring to hope.
Inside, the rooms were bare, with no personal effects left behind. It was as if it had been purposefully stripped. No notes, no journals, only one message.
A scarf, lying neatly folded on an empty bed frame. She had knitted it for him two winters before. Elegantlillies gently picked it up and held it to her chest, eyes closed behind the mask, and Brickwrath turned his gaze away, letting her have her moment.
Then they slipped it into a backpack and carried on. Her son wasn’t here, but he had been, and that was enough.
The greenways were even more overgrown than last time, the warmer spring weather, longer days and recent rain spurring growth everywhere he looked. After a brief battle and two attempts at sharpening the machete, they decided to keep to the lower streets instead.
They tried shouting through the gates first, but received no response. They gave the sound a few moments to settle, and then broke the lock with the crowbar, their combined strength no match for the brittle metal.
They took a moment to steady their nerves, and then ventured into the locked and sealed inner ring.