I drug the poor bastards back. One on my back, one actually dragging. They were heavy. I tried to lift him up, but my arms were queasy from Balseph and from running my mana into the dirt. I’ve been carried back like a sack of potatoes before, so I didn’t feel too badly about letting parts of him skid on the ground.
Only a few people had to carry extra, so my little group of pack-mules were dragging behind a bit. People would glance over their shoulders to make sure nobody was left straggling. There were two other people beside me, dragging people too. I wasn’t focusing much on any of them though. I had my head down focusing on my muscles working and my breathing.
“You look lonely back here.”
I looked up and saw the edge of Kayla’s face talking to me over the body on her shoulder. Her blonde curly hair, cut short like most everyone here, wasn’t even long enough to brush her cargo. She was about normal sized, and not particularly cheerful, but has an easygoing friendliness where she always talks to people when she sees the opportunity. We met around the third week here, and she’s grown to be one of my best friends.
I raised my chin a bit at her luggage in joking bravado.
“Just one?”
“Just one.”
We walked back making small talk like that. Mentioning things about our day, which I’ll skip since I’ve already told you about mine. Her’s was pretty similar.
Once we came back to the clearing we dunked some of their heads into a pool prepared specifically for this purpose. Most came-to sputtering and frantic, but they’d calmed down after a few moments. There was one older, pudgy man who thought he’d died. One of his friends standing over him clasped his hands in prayer and gave a contented hum. A few others, myself included, copied him, humming until the pudgy man lost the frantic look in his eye and it was replaced with resigned amusement. There were a few laughs and we kept going.
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It took a while for everyone to wake back up. In that time I felt my mana slowly trickle back. Not enough for me to cast anything, but I felt more sure on my feet.
Graham, our spokesperson, started clapping.
“Alright, Chefs please start cooking. Town meeting!”
This is something we do frequently. Not every night, but once or twice a week. Sometimes we have nothing important to say, but it helps everyone feel ordered and neighborly. Less alone.
Graham was tall and had gleaming black hair. He looked kind of skulky, but he was very conscientious. He always wanted everything done correctly and quickly. It was an odd mix of traits, dour and panicky, but because of it he was the best person to organize things. His voice was rough when he screamed, but it was pleasant enough.
“If anyone has gained contribution points, let us know. I’ll read the crop yield, and then we’ll take suggestions for improving our living standards.”
“Our three farms are all doing well, we’ll cycle workers in a few days. We had a small surplus again, which was around----”
I let it all flow in one ear and out the other, halfway listening for something interesting to be said. Sometimes I’d pay more attention, but this small bullet list of topics was standard fare for meetings. Which means I’d heard something similar about a hundred times.
Instead of listening I used the trickle of mana I’d regained to build the beginnings of a mana bolt in my right hand. Normally, a bolt would flare a soft blue light and haze like a heat wave, but there was none of the visuals with my meagre input of mana. Instead, it just felt like a bit of pressure in my palm, almost like how cutting off your circulation makes your hand feel swollen. I tried to get the same amount of mana each time to see improvement, but it was very unscientific, this testing. It was small enough that it was almost unnoticeable, but I think I’d felt more pressure than I did a few months ago.
“And again, It doesn’t feel like it, but we’re immortal now. So please, try to remember, or come up with some form of entertainment. You’ll thank yourselves later. That’s all. Good-night everyone.”
The group dispersed into different directions as we all went back to our places. Nobody had to go very far, since most of us shared residential areas and the village was so tiny. We were trying to build more homes, with stone and trees, but it was hard work. I waved bye to Kayla and a few other friends and made my way off. Some people made fires and tried to relax. I, for one, went straight back to my bed, weaving through the makeshift buildings and leaf tarps put up for privacy. I lay down and listen to the sounds of a dozen other people getting settled in and talking softly, saying goodnight to one another. I let sleep take me peacefully.