When Adamas had shown up, Mono began to struggle with warring emotions. While he wanted to flee with Kade distracted, a part of him desired to stay and help Adamas in any capacity. In the end, he was frozen in place, paralyzed by his indecisiveness and only able to watch.

After the fight ended, he breathed a sigh of relief as the elder Weaver retrieved the knife, mumbling something when the glowing blade shattered. It looked like everything would be okay.

And then Adamas collapsed.

“Adam!” Mono rushed to the fallen Weaver, who now lay unmoving on his side. Turning Adamas onto his back, Mono gasped. Where the clothes didn’t cover, bruises littered the skin. Blood ran down from lacerations in some areas. He had seen images of the aftermath of brutal MMA fights before, but this was worse. It did not seem possible that the injuries were caused by mere fists.

As he examined the wounds, Mono heard noise behind him and turned in a panic. If Kade was still alive, no one would be able to stop him.

“How is he?” A soaking wet Vivian asked as she walked out of a large puddle of water and ran to her brother. When she got close enough to see for herself, she also gasped. “We need to get him help.”

Mono nodded mutely, not yet able to speak to or even look her in the eye. He was ashamed of his decision to abandon her. Even though Adamas had shown up before he could physically act on it, the fact remained that he had still mentally made the choice.

Vivian moved to retrieve what was left of Adamas’ sword. “Place your arms under his legs and lift when I tell you to,” she said as she returned to take the scabbard from Mono and wear it herself.

Without a word, he slung the now broken bow over his left shoulder and kneeled, watching Vivian as she stared at the phrase on the hilt for a moment before closing her eyes. The words began to flicker with green light. Putting the sword back into the scabbard, she then also knelt to ease her arms underneath her brother’s back.

“Up,” she commanded.

Carefully, the two carried the elder Weaver to the wagon. With some more coordination to step up and into the interior, they eventually laid him inside.

“We need to use your diems,” Vivian told Mono.

He completely undid the knot that tied his purse and handed it to her. “I won’t be sitting in the front with you.”

“Why?”

Mono didn’t look up to meet her eyes. Instead, he searched for an excuse beyond wanting to avoid being near her because of the guilt he felt. His eyes fell upon the leather satchel that contained medical supplies. The bow fell from his shoulder as he grabbed the bag to show her. “I brought stuff that can help Adam. I’ll use it while you direct the wagon.”

To his relief, Vivian immediately agreed, taking the purse and climbing into the front. As the wagon began to move, Mono sat down next to Adamas and undid the clasp to the satchel. Among the items Miss Sammar had given to him, he saw the knife he had purchased at the outpost.

Having completely forgotten about the thing, the sudden reminder of the knife’s existence only emphasized the negative feelings inside of him. How could he have forgotten to use the one item that was bought for self-defense when he had needed something to defend himself with? What a disappointment. At least it could be useful now.

With a few quick slices, Mono cut open Adamas’ shirt completely and his pants up to the knees, peeling them back to get at the injuries underneath. He then pocketed Sojourn’s stone to grab one of the folded pieces of fabric inside the satchel and soaked the cloth with water from a waterskin kept in the wagon before thoroughly wiping his hands on it. The fabric had antiseptic properties when wet. Preparations done, he got to work.

First, he dealt with the injuries that bled; a clean wet cloth to sterilize, a small amount of blood-clotting agent if needed, and then bandages wrapped firmly but not tied too tightly. He moved methodically, starting from the head and working down.

“Mono, about what happened...” Vivian began in Common.

He ignored her, pretending to be too engrossed in his work as he moved onto the bruises and less obvious wounds. After several minutes, she eventually stopped trying to talk to him. He continued to operate in silence.

Mono sat back when finished, giving out a loud exhale. Now what? With nothing to occupy his attention, his thoughts began to wander. He had done it again, run away when the situation got tough. How long was this going to be a pattern?

Forever, the new voice inside of him answered. Its presence made Mono worry for a second about Kade still being alive, but the worry was quickly replaced by sad understanding. While the monster was no longer manipulating him, what Kade had done was irreversible. The voice was just his negative thoughts, now gathered into a more cohesive form in his mind.

Luckily, he knew how to deal with negative thoughts. Mono pushed the voice away by focusing on a story. Something fantasy and definitely not sci-fi, he decided. How about an old fairy tale? Once upon a time, there was a boy named Hans…

Eventually, Mono drifted into a half asleep state as the adrenaline wore off and his body decided to make up for the sparse amount of sleep over the last few days. Occasionally, he was shaken awake by the jostling of the wagon as it went full speed down the mountains. The first time, he went back to sleep. Same with the second. On the third, he changed several of Adamas’ bandages for new ones; returning to sleep was far more difficult since the air was beginning to thicken again. The fourth time was even harder. On the fifth time, he awoke not from any shaking, but because he felt the wagon stop moving.

“You need to move on to Icsythal. No one is allowed through except for merchants,” a voice outside said.

Mono looked up and through the wagon’s front to see a tall cobblestone wall with a large wooden gate. A brown haired woman stood between them and the gate. While she wore typical attire, the spear that she held and her demeanor gave off an aura of authority. She was probably a guard.

“My brother needs help,” Vivian pleaded.

“We can barely help ourselves,” the woman replied sternly. “Too many refuges have arrived over the last few months. There’s no room for anyone else inside.”

“Icsythal is several days away!” The Weaver protested.

“Then you best get moving.”

Mono wrapped his hand around Sojoun’s stone and spoke up. “Please, Adam really needs someone with medical experience to look at him.” He concentrated as hard as he could, trying to imagine the severity of the elder Weaver’s injuries and convey them through the stone.

The guard frowned at his words, brow furrowed. “Show him to me.”

Vivian got off of the wagon and out of sight as the two began to walk to the back. There was a brief silence before Mono heard a static pop and a hand moved the back cover to the side to let in the sunlight.

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“What happened to him?” The woman asked.

Mono blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the light. “A monster.”

The guard’s brows furrowed further. “What?”

“There was a Myopic attacking people in the Vatam range,” Vivian clarified.

“Are you sure?”

“He had yellow eyes,” the Weaver confirmed. “You can find his body in the Oma grotto.”

There was a brief pause as the woman looked between Adamas, Mono, and Vivian. “Give me your hand,” she said at last to Vivian as she moved her arm in front of the Weaver, palm up.

Once Vivian’s hand was on the guard’s, the woman tilted her head to the side, causing Mono to notice that she wore a singular small metal-stud of an earring on the right earlobe.

The guard turned to Mono. “Your turn. Give me your hand.”

He did as he was told. After a second, he felt a pulling motion from his arm, like he was somehow exhaling through the limb.

As soon as the feeling came, it left, and the guard removed her arm. “You are both now registered as guests of Davenport. If you leave, we will know. If you use your talent, we will know. If you use your talent to harm others,” she paused for effect, “we will know. Understand?”

Mono nodded.

“Good. Weaver, get back in the cart,” the guard said as she let go of the cover. “The entrance will open momentarily.”

True to the woman’s word, the gate began to rise before Vivian even managed to return to her seat. As it opened, two men walked out. While one had a sword strapped to his side and the other appeared unarmed, they both wore the same metal earring. Mono guessed that they were also guards.

“You sent for us?” The one with the sword asked.

The woman walked back into view of the front the wagon as she addressed them. “Yes, I need you to stand guard while I escort these guests to Ascl. Is the Walker still with us?”

“No,” the unarmed man replied. “He said he would return by nightfall, however.”

“Have him send a message to Atlatl. As soon as possible.”

The unarmed man sighed. “You know he’ll say that Atlatl doesn’t ‘accept frivolous messages.’”

“Tell him it’s about a Myopic sighting.”

The two immediately straightened up at the word “Myopic.” But before they could say anything else, the woman held her hand up. “I will explain everything later. Right now, a guest needs the healer.”

“Of course,” the guard with the sword replied. “We’ll make sure everything is in order so the Walker can leave as soon as possible.”

“Good.” The woman turned back to look at Vivian and Mono. “Follow me.”

Inside Davenport, the streets were cramped as people went about their day. Despite the crowd, the wagon was able to pass through unhindered with the guard in front.

Mono didn’t pay attention to the buildings or any individuals that they passed, thinking about what he had heard. When the guards mentioned a Walker, were they talking about R’han? And more importantly, why had they reacted so strongly to Kade? It had something to do with him being a “Myopic,” but the word carried no significance to Mono beyond its literal meaning “short-sighted.”

His thoughts were cut short as he heard Adamas cough. The elder Weaver’s breathing began to become increasingly labored. It was clear that he was suffering from something more than just the injuries Mono had treated.

Vivian heard the change as well. “How long until we get there?” She asked worriedly.

“We’re here,” the guard said, guiding the wagon to stop in front of a long brick building with a slanted roof. “Weaver, you will come with me to the stables and leave the horses while your brother is brought inside.” Her tone made it clear that it was not a request.

“Is the healer in there?” Vivian asked.

“He’s on his way.”

The Weaver nodded and spun around to Mono. “Can you go with Adam?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

As Vivian unharnessed the horses to leave with the woman, two different men with the single-ear piercings showed up with a stretcher. Mono got out of the wagon so that they could have more room to put Adamas on it.

“What’s this?” The younger looking one asked.

Mono looked to see the man point at Adamas’ right hand. It was clenching a wooden handle. “I don’t know.”

The man bent down to remove it. “He won’t let go. I can’t move it at all.”

“Then leave it,” his partner responded.

The two men carried Adamas into the building with Mono trailing behind. The interior was essentially a long hallway with doorways on the side that probably led to rooms. As they walked, Mono noticed that it was eerily quiet, a sharp contrast from the din outside.

And then he heard a scream of pure terror.

“What was that?” He asked.

“Some refugee or other brought in an illness from across the sea,” the elder man responded. “Now one of our guards is sick with it.”

“The fever dreams are apparently nightmarish,” the other one muttered. “It’s not normal.”

“Of course not,” his partner responded. “It’d have to be unnatural for Elias to get sick.”

“Why’s that?” Mono asked out of curiosity. Maybe there was a talent that helped fight off illness.

The elder man merely gave Mono a smug look while cocking an eyebrow. “This is Davenport.”

Eventually, they reached a room that had its door already open and entered. It was tiny and windowless, with barely enough room for a bed, a nightstand, and a stool. After the men placed Adamas onto the bed, the younger one moved to the nightstand.

He pinched the wick of the candle that lay on the stand. When he removed his fingers, the candle lit up. “The healer will be here soon.”

“Alright,” Mono said.

“We’ll be leaving then,” the older one said as they both exited. He tapped the metal stud in his ear. “We’ve been called elsewhere.” With that, the two departed, shutting the door behind them.

Mono moved to sit on the stool, looking at the now dark room which was illuminated only by the dim candle. He tried his best to take in everything, to ignore the elephant in the room. But eventually, inevitably, his gaze rested on the bed.

In the murky light, Adamas looked a lot worse than before. The bandages which Mono had so carefully wrapped now seemed sloppy and inadequate. To top it off, the elder Weaver's breathing was now accented by short staccatos of silence, as if it hurt him to breathe even while unconscious.

A thousand maybes flew through Mono’s head as he stared. If he hadn’t panicked, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe Adamas would have been in a better position to deal with Kade if he hadn’t been forced to catch up to them after scaling a literal cliff. Maybe he wouldn’t have been as hurt if Mono hadn’t allowed Kade to take and break the sword. Maybe…

As he thought, his right hand began to trace the symbol on Sojourn’s stone again. Wait, he realized, Sojourn’s stone. He was literally holding an item made by a goddess.

Mono had never believed in a religion. It was hard to in a world that was fixated on hard proof and revolved around the scientific method. But after being magically sent to another world, maybe it was time to change that. Clasping his hands together, the stone between them, he prayed.

Please, he thought, if you can hear me: my friend is terribly injured, and I can’t do anything. If there’s any way, any chance of a miracle, let it happen now. Please let Adamas survive through this. I’ll do—

He heard a knock on the door and dashed to open it. The healer was here.

“Hello? I was called,” the man on the other side said. He was shorter than Mono, with pitch black hair, bright blue eyes, and an easy-going smile.

“Yes, my friend needs help,” Mono replied, stepping back to allow the man in.

The stranger didn’t move, instead extending a hand. “My name is Daven.”

For a brief second, Mono stared at it in confusion. Oh, Daven wanted to shake hands. “Mono.”

As he shook the man’s hand, he felt a wave of calm pass through him. It eased the tension inside as well as the pain on his side from Kade’s kick. He hadn’t even noticed it until the pain was gone.

“I can see that you’ve been through a lot,” Daven remarked.

“Not as much as Adam.”

“You mean Adamas?”

“Y-yeah.”

“I’ll take a look at him,” the healer said as he finally walked inside and to the side of the bed. Looking down to examine the wounds, he suddenly stopped when he noticed the handle clenched in Adamas’ hand. “My condolences.”

“What?” Mono asked.

Daven waved his hand in dismissal. “Nothing.” Laying both of his own hands on Adamas, one on the elder Weaver’s head and the other on his stomach, the healer’s arms began to glow a pure white light.

Mono stared in awe. Unlike every other magical talent, he couldn’t sense the healer’s. Not only that, but he was pretty sure before that there was no such thing as healing magic. He was very glad to be wrong as he watched Daven help his friend. The man didn’t even look like a healer, dressed in the uniform that all of the guards wore.

After several moments, the light faded, and Daven removed his hands. Adamas was now breathing comfortably and all of his bruises had vanished.

“He should be fine after a few days’ rest,” the healer said.

“Thank you,” Mono replied, relieved. Everything really would be okay. “How much do we owe you for this?”

“I don’t accept money for this.”

“Oh.”

“But there is something you could do for me.”

Mono heard some footsteps outside and stared at the open door expectantly for Vivian. She would be ecstatic. “What is it?”

The healer didn’t respond.

“Daven?” Mono turned around.

The man was gone.

“I was called here by the front guards,” a new voice said behind Mono. “Where is the patient?”

Looking back at the door, Mono took in the sight of a grey haired man wearing a pure white cloak. “Here,” he pointed to the bed, “but the healer already helped.”

“I’m the healer, boy,” the elderly man replied, walking into the room and dropping a leather bag by the bed before examining Adamas. “I have no idea who this other ‘healer’ is.”

Mono squinted at the letters on the bag, which simply read “Ascl.” He was so confused. Daven wasn’t a healer? Could have fooled him. And what kind of talent allowed the man to disappear like that?

“There is nothing wrong with your friend,” Ascl complained. “How did you convince the guards to call me here and waste my time?”

“But he was injured!” Mono protested. “Really badly. It’s just that Daven healed him.”

The man in white froze. “What did you say his name was?”

“Daven, why?”

As the real healer turned around, Mono began to connect the pieces himself. The man’s awestruck look and next words only confirmed what Mono had suspected:

“Young man, you just met Davenport’s patron deity.”