She had never felt this amount of pain before in her life.

A fitting thought, given she was surely dead.

Oh sure, there was some physicality to it. She could feel a weight on her body, tension in her aching muscles, a burning pain cruelly dancing across her nerves. But the soul felt the pain of a mental injury, so why not the more material injuries too?

No, she was surely dead.

Noble too, and poor Matchsticks. All dead. Friar Walter back in Dehali said the Creator used to take the souls of those who died, wash them clean, then replant them to be grown anew- but he also said his god was dead, so what did that mean for them?

Was this the afterlife?

Was she a ghost?

And if she was dead why did her foot itch so much?

Probably all the walking she did. Her feet were killing her- or would have been, had she not been… killed already.

Against Saila’s best understanding of reality, her eyes opened.

Slow, creaky, with the weight of exhaustion trying to keep them closed, but they opened.

She wasn’t dead, and this wasn’t the afterlife.

Unless the afterlife was the inside of a tent, of course.

Saila sat up, scratched at her foot- god they haven’t gotten this worn down since I was first learning how to dance…- and took stock of her surroundings.

She was in a simple, wide tent she didn’t recognize, ensconced within a faded, flower-print blanket. The flowers made her skin crawl, and she quickly rid herself of it- only to find that her arms were fully bandaged down to the wrists, and she’d been changed to her boy clothes.

Immediate disgust and shock flickered, till she remembered how torn up she had been- flecks of plant material, dirt and blood. So many stains…

Probably for the best, then, Saila thought with a heavy sigh. They probably needed a wash… creepy as hell though, I’ve gotta stop waking up like this.

Beside her was Noble’s hat, but that aside the tent was empty, like it had been put up just for her.

“What happened…” Saila muttered. She snatched up Noble’s hat, put it on, and rose on sore feet and uneasy legs. To the credit of their mysterious saviors, the pain did not seem as bad once she started moving- the fact that she could move at all was testament to that.

And so, she made for the exit, brain bubbling with curiosity.

###

The tent she left was just as simple outside as in, but next to it was something so out of place she had to rub at her eyes to ensure it wasn’t a dream. A large carriage of rose-wood with a sizeable coop hooked to the back, a lantern dangling from the sturdy, overhanging roof. The wheels were gone, replaced with thick wooden sleds for travel in the sand sea- though they were all set up on a large island of well-worn stone, as not even the sand sea was wholly uniform.

Written into the side in fanciful- if fading- script were the words The Walking Apothecary, underneath strange symbols she’d never seen before. Hitched to it were two hardy looking, if languid, camels, eating and drinking from two troughs.

Across from them was a familiar face; Matchsticks, partaking of their food and drink.

“Huh… is this like… a doctor wagon? Hey Matchsticks, where is everyone?”

Matchsticks just grunted a horse-noise at her, and focused on the two camels.

Saila rolled her eyes.

Then the door to the carriage creaked open, with the tinkling of a light chime.

“Ah, ohayo young lady,” said the man as he left the carriage, his voice crisp and calm. “Are your wounds troubling you any?”

He looked a kindly sort, dressed head to toe in heavy traveling clothes- baggy trousers and loose blouse underneath a milky white apron- all of which doing their best to hide under a large black robe to fend off the heat and sand. A white scarf and hood combo wrapped about his face, well-kempt brown hair beneath that. He even had a white-and-red fox mask hanging from his waist, no doubt to shield from heavier storms- though to Saila it looked more festive than protective.

Her gaze narrowed on his eyes as he approached- a gentle, soft colour that matched his hair. No fangs.

She must have stared too intensely, or too long, as he spoke up before she could manage it.

“Ah, it seems so- or maybe you’re just shy, understandably so. I should introduce myself- I am Aoki Kenji, though you can call me just Kenji. May I have your name, miss?”

Saila felt a heavy sense of hesitation on her chest. A reasonable feeling given everything at hand. The man looked docile, he lacked the raving energy of Ophelia- gah, just thinking her name makes me flinch! - but that didn’t mean he was safe.

Sure, she seemed patched up. Sure, Matchsticks was okay.

But-

“Where’s Noble?”

The man took a step backward, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Saila was surprised by the strength in her voice- though doubted she could back it up herself.

“Rest easy friend, he is… okay. As much as a man that mangled can be, at any rate. He’s in the coach, resting like you were.”

The image of Noble’s body, limbs destroyed, torso split open like a burst tin can, made Saila shiver to the point of almost falling.

Kenji gave her a sympathetic glance- earnest concern, the sort she hadn’t seen since Noble himself.

“He’s fine, little miss. I’ve done what I can to ease the pain, and he can rest.”

Tears welled. How quickly strength crumbled against actual care.

“He’s… he’s going to be okay?”

He nodded, but something flashed across his face. “Ay, yes- though I make no promises I can repair the mechanical damage, I am a doctor, not an engineer. But… I will try.”

Relief.

It felt like rain on her back, even in the morning sun.

Saila fell to her knees- without the tension supporting her she could barely stand.

“I do not know even half of what torturous hell you’ve been through,” Kenji continued, “but know you are on the other side of it. We’ve got some food cooking on the stove, if you’d care to join us for breakfast, maybe fill us in?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

After a pause to catch her breath, Saila stood and nodded.

“Y- yes, please. Just… not ham and eggs, please.”

###

The inside of the carriage was a crowded mess- everything smelt of herbs and spices and medicine and food all at once. Among the jars and boxes were knickknacks that had to be from all over the world- Exovan earthenware, hand-spun Trestarian wall hangers, what she guessed were Felisian paintings, and stone-carved statuettes and paper charms that she had no idea of.

While some of the scents made her skin crawl, the sheer warmth of it all was encompassing. It felt more like a home then a doctor’s office- in retrospect obvious, if Kenji and whoever with him were travelers- and Saila could not resist it after everything that had happened.

She did regret asking for no ham and eggs though- the rice porridge Kenji called oka-you seemed a little unappetizing at first glance, especially with the fried vegetables on the side. It wasn’t that she thought they’d taste bad, and she was truly starving, just…

Something about the nicely crisped greens set off her nerves.

It also didn’t help the server was as coarse as Kenji seemed soft.

Similar outfit, but with scraggly black hair that lazily curled across his face, a layer of stubble across his chin, and a sharpness to his eyes that seemed like it could slice through steel.

“Go on, eat. Don’t waste our hospitality.”

His voice was an icy spear. Saila wondered if his presence kept the heat at bay- the carriage did seem quite cool.

“Oh, Koryu please. The poor girl was face first in the sand for who knows how long and she’s only just woken up.”

“Exactly. She should eat.”

“Uh, it’s… fine, really.”

The two continued their bickering, shifting to a language she didn’t understand but assumed to be Kaigan. A needle of worry pricked at her- one of several to be honest. Unfamiliar food, unfamiliar faces, who happened to stumble across them in an absolute wasteland of sand? It felt too easy. Something was up, she just didn’t know what.

More than that even; she didn’t know because it was hidden, but because it was just beyond her understanding. Sixteen years of life and a shelf full of books didn’t give her nearly enough to even comprehend what was at the core of it all.

The most Saila knew, is she didn’t know what she didn’t know.

But the tone in their voices, the gentle smiles in their faces- even as they argued- let her know at least one thing. They were certainly up to something, but they were good people. Or at the very least not touched the way Ophelia was.

So Saila took herself a bite as their friendly chatter continued.

Oh, it’s sweet! Kinda gooey but… she thought it over, and found herself eating another spoonful before she even realized it. But really good!

The speed at which she was eating slowed, then stopped Kenji and Koryu’s discussion.

“Well, you like it?”

“Y- yeah!” Saila said between bites. She’d even picked up the bowl to make eating easier. “I was starving! Can I… have some more when I’m done?”

Kenji gave her that calm, congenial smile he always seemed to wear.

“Of course- you made enough, yes?”

Koryu just grunted in affirmation, then turned from the table.

“I need to check on our birds.”

Then he left.

How the hell does Kenji stand this guy... and what does he mean by birds?

Sails shrugged, and continued eating- and even took a moment to chew on her fried vegetables- mostly celery and lettuce. Not nearly as good as the rice porridge, but good enough.

Kenji dished her out another bowl before she’d even finished the first, then sat back down, across from her.

“So… now that he’s gone, and you’re all fed, are you ready?”

Saila looked over the bowl at him, and gulped.

“Ready…?”

Kenji smiled.

A normal one, but Saila felt a shiver all the same.

“What happened to you and your friend?”

Saila looked at the half-eaten veggies, sighed, and told him.

###

Kenji listened with the sort of gentleness Saila expected from the man’s demeanor. Not prodding more than necessary, only asking a few follow up questions, nodding and understanding the whole way.

She didn’t tell him everything of course. The instant she started rambling about a woman dressed in flowers, about how she was possessed by some wildly smiling shade, she was sure that no longer how polite Kenji was he’d taken her for someone who’d gone brain-melted from sun and sand.

So, she framed it a much more reasonable way.

She and Noble were just traveling place to place. They were going through the tunnels that led beneath the Anarkali for expediency, gambling on rumours they heard. They got separated in a fall, both injured in a bit of bad luck, and Saila had to lead the rest of the way on her own.

In the telling she realized this made them seem like two wandering disasters with no idea what they were doing, which was only half-right by her best estimation. It also did little to explain who the two of them were… and how, exactly, the two of them had come together. She mumbled something about him saving her life- which was true in every sense but wholly insufficient- and that, with little prospects back home, she figured she’d tag along.

She was, to be frank, unsure it would be enough to placate the doctor.

“That does explain the injuries- yours, at least. Tears all along your shoulders and forearms, some bruised ribs. I’m impressed you could stay standing.”

Saila shrugged. “I’m fit. Dance a lot. Du- Noble, got the worst of it, though, obviously.”

“Indeed,” Kenji put a hand to his chin in thought. “Your friend is lucky to be alive, in so many ways. Prosthetics that advanced are a rarity… like I said, I may not be able to do much to repair them. Does he carry any replacement parts with him?”

“I uh…,” Saila froze. Was it more or less suspicious that Noble didn’t tell her any of this stuff. No time to think- she took another gamble, and said, “uh, maybe? He didn’t- doesn’t… like to talk about it, I think. It’s why I didn’t stop to rest- thought maybe someone in Felisian territory could fix it.”

He gave an understanding nod, but was silent. Too silent, for Saila’s tastes; she was sure he was about to catch her in some misspoken lie and reveal the truth or-

“That was a risky decision you made, but not without warrant- traveling through unmarked tunnels, pressing on through the sand sea… and leaving home like that.”

Saila gulped- swallowing the last of her porridge with just a bit of building anxiety for seconds.

“Of course, it is commendable,” he continued. If he’d noticed Saila’s worry, he didn’t show it. He looked over his shoulder, and added, “Family that we find is just as good as family we are given. It takes all sorts, Miss Saila- and you are certainly a brave sort.”

“Like you and that grump?” The question blurted out before Saila had so much as thought it.

Kenji just chuckled. “Ah, I suppose he would come off like that to you, wouldn’t he.”

Saila raised an eyebrow at that, and he just chuckled again.

“No, but seriously, I…” Saila looked around, as if somehow Koryu could have sneaked up on her somehow. “Why do you keep him around? He’s like, a bodyguard, right?”

“He is, yes. A good one, at that- among other things.” He smiled. “I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to ask questions yourself- I was starting to feel like an interrogator.”

Another eyebrow raise from Saila, but she brushed it off as she nibbled on a bit of fried celery.

“So, you’re like, a traveling doctor right? Where are you from?”

“Ah, from Kaiga, far to the west.”

Saila nodded, in slightest imitation of Kenji.

“You must have gone… a lotta places then, huh?”

“That we have- from Exova’s tiered cities to the icy reaches of Dulace and back again. We’ve… come a long way together, me and my ryu,” he said, with an odd touch of melancholy to his voice that Saila almost failed to catch. “It’s been tricky moving about with the war going on, but… well, that’s when a doctor is most needed, yes?”

“Yeah… I can imagine,” Saila said. Truthfully, she didn’t know much about the war- not every dime-novel used it as a setting, and those that did rarely did so as more than just a backdrop. She’d never really gleaned much about it beyond Felisia being in conflict with the other countries- and even then, she only really learned of Exova and Trestaria. It was shown positive in some, negative in more- but rarely was it focused on. Her stories more focused on the people and their lurid tales throughout it.

She thought about Renault, and the squad of soldiers put into ‘service’ by Ophelia, and the poor manipulated Ophelia herself, sins and all.

About the veterans who Knave had tried to twist- was that a trap for Noble, then? Or is he just… like this?- to his own ends. Put aside and forgotten.

And the ex-infantry back in Dehali, and how they never seemed to bother old Friar Walter, abandoned in a foreign country.

The difference between her reality and her fiction was as sharp as the image it left in her memory. She made a note to ask Noble about the war- there was no doubt in her mind he had fought in it even if he never claimed he was a soldier himself- when he was better. She wanted to learn about it. She wanted to learn about Noble.

Then, another reality started clicking into place.

She jabbed the celery at Kenji with a put-upon confidence.

“Hey, so… how much is all this going to, uh, cost?”

Kenji’s pleasant face cracked into wild, if still gentle, laughter.

“Ah, so serious Miss Saila- like something has changed behind your eyes.”

Saila’s faux face dropped. “Wh- how did you-?”

“Little gets by me, Miss,” Kenji tapped at his nose. “But, rest assured- I did not become a traveling doctor for the money, though it certainly helps. If I wanted to be rich, I’d have stayed in Chimizu. No, this won’t cost you any-”

The carriage door swung open, and Koryu pulled himself into the crowded living space- he looked somehow extra disheveled, with chicken feathers scattered about his clothes… and a red hole in his shoulder.

“Chickens got out,” he said in his gruff, matter-of-fact tone.

“Ch… chickens?”

Kenji slammed his fist into his open palm, turned to Saila, and said.

“It won’t cost you anything… but a quick favour.”

Saila shot him a glance.

He smiled politely, and Saila finally clicked it all into place.

It was a gentle, cloying smile.

It was the smile of a schemer.

######