Underground Caverns, Troug, 13th.

Olea Munroe

After the kerfuffle with the guards and the absolute storm of crud that followed, what with the pool of blood and the pile of semiconscious friends I had to tend to when I finally made it to a proper position and calmed down, I had set about doing what I could to alleviate the issues I could address.

I checked on Mouse who was awake and a little groggy, making sure she had no pressing injuries or other types of traumas I could diagnose with my non-existent triage skills before moving on to the still unconscious Quinn.

Quinn was suffering from a goose-egg on the back of the noggin and a good bit of bruising on the shoulder with no visible scrapes and cuts that I could see, though I did apply a small cast of Cure Wounds on her scalp as the blood in her hair may have come from somewhere other than the hard packed ground they had fallen upon.

Malory was still standing at the far side of the holding cell, having not assisted at all during the altercation. I could not fault her for not helping in a situation where she could not have been useful in the slightest, but I could not quite hide the fact that I was upset that she had not at least spoken up, or even cried out as her friends went down. I had thought we had known each other well enough to at least express some care for when one of our fellows took damage or had harm fall upon them.

Maybe I was overreacting and had just assumed she was made of sterner stuff, hells I may have frozen up had I not had the childhood I had. Violence happens sometimes, the trick was surviving and not locking up playing the part of the victim; at least not as easily as Malory had made it look.

Again, I may have been hoisting my own shame from earlier childhood garbage onto her and therefore damning an innocent for acting as I had once upon a time. Either way I could think about it later, Derek was still moaning and barely moving on the ground near the door.

I made small cooing noises as I approached, soft little nothings of some minor comfort in case he had been sent into loopy land by one of the hits I had not seen land. The rib kick was quite telegraphed and hard to miss even around the large frames of the guards as they had approached but I did not know for sure if he had been hit somewhere else while we were all focused on other things; like not being murdered and such.

I gave another glance to Malory as I bent down to check on Derek and his injuries, perhaps trying to will some empathy onto her features and maybe get some help assessing Derek but got no reaction, other than her eyes continuing to follow me across the ground. I do not even think she spared a glance at the girls after I had left their side.

Mouse had gotten to her feet in half crouch and was currently petting Quinn’s side and back in some attempt at comforting or waking the girl; or maybe herself.

I got to Derek’s side and winced a bit as I took in the sight of his swelling hand, I had no idea how to tell if it had been broken but I gave him the same treatment of Cure Wounds I had given Quinn.

I was rewarded with a slight decrease in the swelling as his hand visibly shifted under the influence of the spell and I breathed out a small sigh of relief; one less problem.

I shifted myself lower, so I did not topple myself as I rolled him onto his back slowly, ever mindful of not putting pressure on his chest unless necessary. I had no idea how to identify broken ribs, but there was no way that he had escaped those ministrations without at least severe bruising and possible small fractures. I also avoided bending the hand overmuch as I remembered that my spell did almost nothing for broken bones.

“Derek?” I asked quietly, not wanting to bring the guards back after they had been frightened away by the man in red.

“Agroha blah meh.” was the response I got back. I was fairly sure only two of those were words and they really did not work quite the way he had slapped them together but at least he could talk. Small wins and such.

“The guards are gone, I am going to be casting some magics on your chest, let me know if anything feels broken or really, really bad, ok?” I did not know if I was just rambling from stress or it was just my inner medical genius shining through that had me add the small task for him; I was surely just giving him something to distract him from the pain, yep.

I channeled Cure Wounds across his chest watching as some of the visible bruising faded beneath the glow of my mana and relaxed a little as Derek’s breathing eased ever so slightly.

Did that mean he did not have a punctured lung, or heart? Probably. Yeah, I would go with that. I am neither a Gregory House nor a Doogie Howser, I would barely reach a middling level of doctor mom, but he should be fine.

Again, probably.

“Sit here until you feel like you can move around safely, if something new hurts when you try sitting up, feel free to yell for me and maybe we can eat another meat pie when you feel better.” I had barely gotten the words out when he began sitting upright and staring at my empty hands as if the food would be waiting for him the moment he sat up.

Boys.

I looked back to Malory, noticing she still had not moved, though she was looking at the girls now.

Glad she could join us.

Right, crisis tended to. I decided I could spend a few minutes reading the note I had found in my little vault.

I snapped the paper from my inventory into my left hand, pretending to pull it from the sleeve of my worn and tattered shirt to read it and noticed that I was being watched again.

“Are you alright, Malory? Did you need something, did you somehow get injured while standing way over there away from all the people who were just roughed up by the big scary guys?” I felt my lips curl into a slight sneer as I finished speaking, unable to hide my conflicted feelings about her presumed betrayal of our growing comradery.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

It was petty and probably misguided but I could not quite bring myself to be overly caring after my nerves had been so thoroughly numbed in the moment of violence that had preceded this small delivery of my ire.

I had trust issues, okay?

I looked down at my paper again after Malory had turned her attention to the not-so-distant walls of the cavern and began to read.

It seemed to be written by Sicily, yay!

Dear Olea,

My heart melted as I saw her flowing script again, and to be called dear!

I know you must be in a crisis-mode by now but I, or rather, we felt the need to write a proper letter to convey to you by the means dictated to us by your nameless friend, your raven familiar.

We will need to discuss his idea of boundaries in the future, so you know.

I am writing now in the presence of Master Doogan, and we are currently working on mobilizing the guild and to some extent the guard force local to your area of imprisonment.

We have sent along your odd request of food from the vendor right outside the guild hall, as well as this letter and a knife that Doogan has stated you would need if you planned on eating like ‘a civil representative of our fine establishment’ his words not mine.

Master Doogan is sure that we should be in position within two days of this letter being written on the thirteenth day of Troug.

We ask that you be prepared as best as you can for whatever may happen while we launch the rescue; Doogan himself will be leading the charge.

Be safe, little sister.

Sicily.

PS I shall be sending some clothing over as soon as I can get a moment away from the hall.

PPS. Do not mention Bret’s new hair.

“Fantastic.” I whispered, staying aware enough not to shout again.

The letter affirmed their meeting with my companion though, and that was good.

It left me wondering at how my friends had taken my possible death, or at least my disappearance.

It also left me wondering who Bret was and why I would be curious about his hair.

Oh, well.

I was slipping the letter away when I heard a bright but hesitant female voice in the back of my mind.

“Hello?” called the voice.

“Hi!” I said, waiting expectantly.

Mouse, Derek, and Malory all looked at me with varying levels of confusion, though Derek was probably still expecting food.

I spent a few moments in contemplation before it dawned on me, I had totally forgotten about my other Soul Skill abilities, particularly the Forum.

I invoked the skill, feeling something stir from the depths of my core. It almost felt like the small burning tingle of alcohol as it hit your stomach, but this sensation was a little lower… maybe behind my belly button?

Weird.

I responded this time in the forum, repeating my greeting and I could almost feel relief swell through the channel as my message was delivered.

The sensation was not unlike my connection to the bird, but it did feel much less intimate. As if it were two strangers on a street talking over the hood of a car about the weather versus my conversations with my bonded where we felt more like close friends sharing a milk shake.

That probably makes no sense whatsoever, but I was never particularly good at these fuzzy comparisons.

Sue me.

“Oh my god, it works! Hi, who are you?” came the voice at the other end of the metaphysical tunnel. “I did not expect this to do anything. I mean of course magic is real but this… I had no idea. Where are you from, are you in Eldor? North Jaga? Are you the person I sensed out west?”

“Woah, woah. Slow down. I am Olea, Olea Munroe.” I said as she bombarded me with a few more questions and speaking than I was expecting.

The questions about someone to the west gave me the feeling that I was speaking with another recent immigrant to the world of Kalydren, as my Dowsing skill was continually informing me of two presences; both of which were to the west.

“Sorry, sorry. My name is Merry, Merry Christmas-.” She said, before I cut into the conversation.

“Is it?” I replied, not sure how she could tell when Christmas was while we were stuck on another planet, in another universe. Would it still be Christmas if a certain child of God had not quite walked on this worlds surface, I had no idea.

“Is it what?”

“Is it Christmas?” I asked again. “You said Merry Christmas, I was not quite sure if you were joking or something. This skill sends a lot of emotion with it, and I could not pick up sarcasm or humor and well… is it Christmas?”

I sensed a chuckle, and a feeling of relief reverberated through the connection before she spoke again, “No, no. My name is Merry, full name Merry Christmas Clarkson. My mum had a sense of humor and my da’ just went with it.”

“Your folks were weird.” I commented idly, all the while thinking of my own name and its meaning, a tether into the past and an ethereal connection to a family I would never know again; hells, I could barely remember it all today.

“Are you ok?” came Merry’s voice from the other side. “I kind of get the sense that you are not feeling too well.”

“Oh, no, no. I am fine. Just got kidnapped and put in a prison, the whole name explanation threw me for a bit of a memory loop. You just trying out the skills or did you need something?”

“I saw the skills and had the time, so I decided to-. Wait, did you say kidnapped?!” Merry’s voice rose a few octaves into the land of shrill before I responded.

“Meh, I am. Got kidnapped by some Avery lady a week ago, they yoinked me straight out of a church it seems.” I stated the facts as evenly as I could, not wanting to scare the person I had just met.

“That bitch!”

“Woah, hold on. What?” I asked, though I was sure I got the gist of it with the sense of recognition in the line.

I swear this is like having a cellphone linked directly to a person’s feelings, no ghosting folks with lies here.

“Andrea Avery, she abducted you?”

“Yep, a real peach from what I gather. She hires the nicest manservants.”

“Damnit, okay. Give me some time to see what I can do.” Came the even voice of someone on the verge of taking on a new mission in life.

“Hold up!” I interrupted her again, “I have people on the way. No need to get rustled and riled. My friends should be here in two days. I am sure they will tear through the place, and I can get set free. Then I can come join you for some proper tea and a girl’s night out, right?”

A few heartbeats passed between us, really, I could have sworn I felt them slowing down through the link before she spoke again.

“Okay, I can wait. I will let a friend of mine know though, they are incredibly skilled in magic and can be very scary in a fight. I am sure he could help your friends.”

It was then I noticed the level stares I was getting in reality; apparently this skill did not work outside of time as the Soul Vault did.

“Impressive, you do that.” I put in, needing to hang up. “Listen, I need to get back to some things with the whole being in prison thing. We can catch up later, okay? Bye!”

I mentally dipped from the Forum before looking around the cage, my home for two more days.

Quinn was awake and leaning on Mouse, though not quite as heavily as she probably would be if she were critically wounded, good sign.

Derek was still waiting for pie, though he was flexing and unflexing the fingers of his injured hand. No ibuprofen here, sorry Derek.

I sensed the link closing on Merry’s side as I continued looking around, but I saw nothing immediately troubling, so I turned around and moved closer to the pair of girls, motioning Derek with one hand and pulling a pie from the air under my other hand.

I was not very hungry, but without ice cream a meat pie was sure to help the mood a little, right?

Malory made her way over even without invitation, though I had smiled slightly in her direction as an afterthought, and it seemed to convey my reluctant invitation.

I had barely sliced the first piece free before I sensed a mental tug on my vault and had to ignore the urge to dive in and meet whoever was present; food first, I would check in on the storage later.