Infant Moon / 28 / 1208 A.F.
I lied in bed for two weeks. Two long… long weeks. Ma’s pork and noodles taste like blood and rope. My body feels merged to the bed. My left hand has never stopped trembling. Even while asleep, I can feel it pulsing. I can hear its whispers slither into the crevices of my brain. It feels like it’s always submerged in hot liquid… I’m sure that’s just some of the blues side effects. Once I’m fully recovered, I’m sure it’ll go away. If it doesn’t… well… I don’t want to think about that. After my side wound finally closed, I convinced my parents to let me outside. They finally let me out after I could go toe-to-toe with Ma in a sparring match with my right arm still broken.
I’ve been doing my first hunting jobs for the past three weeks with my right arm still in a sling. I’ve learned that if you dress up your broken arm in a cool coat or menacing looking bandages, people are more likely to take you seriously. No one would hire me for escort jobs due to my arm, but I managed to convince some merchants from the Free Range to let me deliver some scarlet for them. Smuggling and delivering the stuff is way easier than I thought it’d be. Dunno if it's because I’m injured or if I’m a hunter, but none of the authorities gave me any trouble. Had to fight off some bandits two nights ago, but me and the other smugglers got out just fine. Had to bury the bandits by the river. Didn’t have anything identifying on them… not even so much of a wallet to loot from them. They all had these gross horns sticking out of their heads and their nails were as long and sharp as daggers. One of them even had pitch black eyes… I don’t know what that’s about, but after telling the merchant about that encounter, he paid all of us a little extra.
And with that job, I finally have enough to pay for Margaret’s medical expenses. I asked Da to ask Bill about Margaret’s condition and… it isn’t pretty, but not out of the norm. It’s expensive, but I finally got enough money for all the surgeries, medicines, and rehabilitation she could ever need. I put all the coins and notes into a sizable wooden box and rush over to Seth’s house as fast as I can. My left hand refuses to let go of the box. It feels like my hand would happily shatter itself to ensure the integrity of the box. I think it might… but I don’t think I would even mind if it did… maybe that would fix whatever’s wrong with it. There’s this uneven red mark that’s been spreading through my left hand for the past month and a half. It feels wet to me, but ma and da say it isn’t there. It doesn’t hurt when I press into it and I can’t stand to look at it.
Forget about it. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is getting this money to Bill and helping Margaret out. I reach their front door and knock on it. “Bill! Bill! Come outside! I got a gift for you!”
No response.
I continue knocking harder and harder and harder. My fist begins to bleed again, but I don’t feel pain. If anything, it feels good to watch my left hand get bruised and bloodied. With each crack of my knuckles, I feel a small, but enormous weight fly off my back. I can’t stop knocking. I won’t stop knocking. Not until Bill answers. “Bill! Bill! I’m sorry if I’m interrupting a nap, but you gotta come out! This’ll make your day!” With one final knock, I punch the door open. It didn’t appear to be locked at all… Bill should be home by now. I’m sure he won’t mind if I deliver this to him with a little note. Couldn’t hurt to check up on Margaret and see if she needs anything either.
I enter their house and close the door behind me. Looks clean as a whistle. I can still smell the cleaning fluid and see my reflection in the polished wooden floor. I walk up the staircase and avoid making too much noise. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a series of four family portraits on the wall to my right. They’re small, but immaculately detailed and they all have Bill’s signature on the bottom right. The one I’m looking at has my family and Seth’s family standing together wielding our family arms. Gods… I remember posing for that… That was last year in the park…. We all look so healthy and bright. Margaret’s standing tall and Seth’s carrying me over his head like I’m nothing…
Nothing like that… Just... thank you for everything. Never change…
The fingers on my left hand contort and waver uncontrollably. The box drops and lands on my foot. Before I can pick it back up, my left hand’s fingers plunged themselves into my palm. The nails pierce clean through my palm and wriggle around like maggots feasting on a decaying carcass. I feel like I should stop it… but it would be wrong to. It feels natural. It feels like this is how things should be. It’s what I deserve. I dig a piece of chewing blues out of my pocket, pop it into my mouth, and let it rest on my gums for a while. My spine relaxes and my fingers finally open. I wipe the blood off onto my pants, pick up the box, and continue my trek upstairs. “Margaret? Are you awake?” I make it to the top of the stairs and turn right to see Margaret and Bill’s room. The door’s ajar, but it's completely quiet. She must be sleeping. I enter the room and see Margaret lying motionless in bed. She looks so serene… but smells like she just ripped a huge fart. Wait a sec… I see a dark stain out of the side of her mouth. I tilt her head and see her neck, shoulders, and bed sheet stained black with blood. No. No. No. No. I tear her blanket off and lift open her pajama top to find her abdomen stained purple. While the rest of her body is pale, cold and hard, her abdomen feels tender to the touch and like it’s about to burst… Each time I touch her, a little bit of fetid fluid bursts out of her skin and leaks onto the bed sheets. Her arms and legs look like they’d snap off if I put any pressure on them. I feel a maggot inch its way up my hand and immediately let go of the blanket, step away from the bed, and whack my arm against the wall to crush the maggot instantly.
All breath escapes my body. My left fingers dig into my thigh. I want to scream, but mucus and heat ensnares any sound trying to leave my throat. I turn around to leave only to find Bill’s body hanging from the ceiling. A thick noose is wrapped tight around his neck. His legs dangle helplessly like a flower in a light breeze. His fingers are stuck tight between his neck and the noose and his neck is littered with still fresh cuts. His eyes are still open and stare unblinking at me. His mouth is open, but his teeth are clenched tight. Between his teeth, I can see some bloody, pink flesh seep through. Dried foam is caked into his cheeks. Dry saliva is covers his chin and dried blood hangs off the bottom of his beard. The smell of blood and feces hits my nose like a mace right out of the forge. I look down for a moment and can see a small piece of dirty, moist pink flesh under his feet. Looks like part of his tongue.
no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no n-
My brain shuts off. I can’t think. I can’t feel. I just remember vomiting. A lot. My head bashed itself against the floor. My nails clawed at my stomach. My throat burned itself raw from so much yelling. My eyes nearly fused shut from the amount of tears. By the time Ma found me, I was lying in a puddle of my own vomit, sweat, and blood. In my passion, I had swallowed an entire pound of chewable blues. Even now, I still cannot explain what compelled me to do so… maybe I just wanted to join in. Maybe I just wanted to feel okay for once. I will never know. Unfortunately, Ma managed to shove a solution down my throat that kept the blues from poisoning me. The last thing I remember before passing out is Ma hugging me close to her and Bill’s eyes piercing into my soul. Even now, it feels like his eyes are digging in the deep corners of my mind. Groping, squeezing, puncturing anything they can.
Wander Moon / 20 / 1218 A.F.
I am not sure how much time has passed or if I’m dead or alive. I’m not sure which I prefer at the moment. My eyes shoot open and my limbs thrash about. Nothing but snow. Big surprise. It’s no longer moving and it is nowhere as cold as it was before. It also feels far lighter than it did. Maybe I landed near the top… Would explain why I’m not dead; assuming I’m not dead. My arms travel around my person in a frenzy before resting on my chest. My fingers feel a familiar silver chain and my hand wraps around my necklace. My legs are numb and my back hurts like hell… but my necklace is still here… good. Good. I can still move. I have to. Little by little, I begin digging my way out. A few minutes later, I pop out of the snow and look around like an injured ice fox. Mist. Nothing but mist. Thickest mist I’ve ever seen. Can’t see two paces past where I am. My mind wants to thrash about and freak out, but my body lacks the energy for any panic or tantrum. I compromise and just lie out on the snow for a while.
Come to me… Astrid… please come to me… I miss you.
We miss you, Astrid.
I’m not mad. Please come to me. It’s okay. You can rest now.
Voices flood my mind. They sound… peaceful. Natural even. My back pain is slowly melting away with each word… though that could be my brain shutting down for all I know.
Please… head South.
A femenine voice shuts out all the others. It’s simple and sweet. Sounds almost like Ma. I can even feel some fingers run through my hair and an invisible force hug me for a second.
Head South. Bring this pilgrimage to an end. That is where Paradise awaits… I swear it. You and David will be safe there.
The more mist I breathe, the louder the voices get. My stomach’s getting upset just by breathing. Feels like something’s condensating along the walls and sloshing around. I can’t stay here for long or I’ll get poisoning for sure… worst comes to worst, I can always vomit the Mist out. I hope…
The voices continue to fill me with whispers until-
ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
A mighty, slow groan tears through the air and shakes the ground. It sounds older than time and bigger than the continent. No malice, no hatred. Just strength and a little bit of boredom. I fear my head will explode if I pry my hands from my ears.
BOOM BOOM BOOM
Slow, giant footsteps begin approaching me. Judging by the speed, it sounds like a quadruped. Each time a foot hits the ground, I can hear tremors shoot through the planet’s crust. The impact makes me bounce off of the snow and fall back down just in time for the next footstep to launch me once more.
RROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The groan once again violates the air. A foot stomps down right next to me and sends me and the snow flying once more. I can’t see it, but I can feel it just from the impact. I land flat on my ass and look around me. I still see nothing, but I can feel something right above me. I want to run, but my body refuses to move out of reverence to the grand beast. I sit there for a good three minutes until the footsteps finally pass over me and head towards the distance. Once I no longer hear the groans and the earth stops shaking, I start taking inventory.
Lance pieces are nowhere to be found. Armor’s all cracked and bent to hell and back. One good strike will make it either crumble or pierce me. Machete’s still hooked to my leg sheathe and looks to be in good condition. I sling the trunk off my back and inspect it. Cracked up bad, but still held together by the ropes and hooks. I can see David’s mist deposit through some of the cracks, but that’s the least of my worries right now. Crossbow string’s busted and some of my bolts are missing, but my spare strings and quiver are still in good condition. I spend a few minutes tuning and loading my crossbow and get it back into operating condition. Satchel’s still good. Wet and covered in snow, but still good. I look inside and find some pocket change, my suture kit, the chewable blues, my lighter, and my license. Good. Everything I need. Lighter’s busted beyond repair though so I discard it. I pop a chewable in my mouth and feel nothing change. I toss one more in for good measure and feel my leg and back start to numb a little. I chew a little more and swallow some of the juice and feel my stomach slowly start to settle. The voices become quieter, but still just as clear. There’s so many flooding through my mind at once, but I can understand all of them…
I toss off my armor and feel loads lighter. I feel naked, but I don’t feel like an overencumbered sitting duck anymore, so it’s a slight upgrade. Look down to my right thigh and find a fresh gash going from my hip to just above my knee. Doesn’t look too deep, but it’s bleeding. Not heavy bleeding, but bleeding enough where it’ll be a problem in a few hours. I’ll fix it back up if - no - when I make it out of here. I don’t really have the luxury of time right now. I have to find David.
I get to my feet, sling the trunk onto my back, unsheathe my machete, and get moving. I walk slowly with my right leg lagging behind me and my machete in front of me. If I don’t make a noise… I can’t be found… but I can’t really look for David either. He couldn’t have fallen far, but neither could that man.
shftshft
I can hear something trotting in some brush. Sounds close, but I don’t know where exactly it's coming from.
grooowl…
Something begins to growl. Sounds low, but young. Scared, but ready to fight. Sounds like a yapper, but a little different. Sounds louder; more confident. It's coming from my right and my left. I draw my crossbow and aim it to the right and point my machete to my left. The growling continues. The brush keeps rustling. Nothing’s jumping. Nothing’s moving. It’s quiet again. I’m holding my breath and bending my knees. Don’t run. Don’t blink. If you move, you die. Armor’s not going to save you. My eyes keep flickering back and forward waiting for something, but it never appears.
EEYEEEEEEEEP!
The sound of metal cutting into the ground and a Yapper meeting its end slices through the air and plunges into my mind.
“Stupid mutts!” Commander’s voice rings through the fog. I see the rapidly decaying corpse of a Yapper fly right past me. “AAAAH!” I hear a blade slash through another Yapper again and again and again. Each slash is accompanied by a pained whine. “I’ve had it with these! Crimson Queen! WHERE ARE YOU!? I KNOW YOU DIDN’T DIE THAT EASILY!!!”
For a fraction of a fraction of a second, I can see the glimmer of his blade shine through the Mist. He’s close. Real close. I can hear him grunting, panting, and pacing around erratically. Each of his steps is accompanied by the sound of thick armor grinding against each other. I look down at my crossbow. I could blind fire a bolt, but that would give away my position, plus his armor looks far too dense for my bolts… Past the crossbow, I see a rock lying on the ground. Looks as smooth as an egg and as big as my palm. I pick it up and toss it to my right.
Commander’s pacing stops. “Ohoho! Queenie! Is that you!?” he launches into a mad sprint towards the rock. I can see his outline. Definitely still has his armor on. Damn… Lombard armor typically has cracks in the plates around the neck and under the shoulder blades. It’s small, but just enough for a machete to stab into.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
I take a deep breath, crouch down, and sneak up behind him.
“Queeeeniieeeee!” Commander stomps and looks around. His voice begins to crack as he begins to cry hysterically. “C’mon! I’m right here! Don’t you want to kill me too!? Go on! Finish the job already you coward! LET ME SEE THEM AGAIN!”
I’m just close enough to see him. I can see his armor. It’s dented to hell, but still functional. He still doesn’t have his helmet on. Good. I line up my shot and fire.
fwoosh
Commander pivots around with a horizontal backhand swing and blocks the bolt.
I immediately start to run backwards into the Mist.
“Hehehe!!! Really!?” I hear him start to chase after me. “Did you really think I would be stupid enough to fall for that!?” he lunges his blade right at me. Even while he’s chasing me, his tears don’t cease. He sounds just as exhausted as I am, but far, far more driven. “COME HERE!!! LET ME REST!!!”
I sidestep it and try to pick up the pace, but my legs just aren’t doing what I need them to. I’m at my limit here. I don’t even know how I’m still awake at this point. I take a blind shot with my crossbow, hear it clank off some metal, and hit the floor near me. Come on! I just need one good shot!
I can’t line up a good shot in this mist and there’s no way I’m blocking that sword with this machete. It’d break in one parry. Hell, getting in range of his sword is a death sentence. Even without the mist, he’s rushing me down so well I can’t focus on anything else but running.
“Astrid?” David gasps. “There you are!” his voice emits from my right a fair bit away. Twenty to thirty paces if I had to guess.
I want to yell, but I don’t want to risk compromising my position even further. Doesn’t matter for longer I suppose. I can barely see. My eyelids are closing. My neck’s going limp and if I step on any unexpected incline or obstacle, I’m collapsing. Maybe I should just collapse. He’ll never see it coming. Just as I’m about to fall, David’s voice graces the mist once again.
“Ignis.”
Commander is enveloped in a ball of flame.
Unfortunately, it hits me a little too. The back of my hair catches fire and my back feels extra toasty.
“AAAHAHAH!!! NICE T-TRICK! THAT WON’T WOOOOOAAAAAAH!” I see the flame illuminate Commander’s body as he begins flailing and rolling on the ground. Despite all the fire and pain, he still clutches onto his blade.
Perfect. I drop my crossbow and jump on Commander. I wrap my thighs around his waist and feel flame envelop my lower half. I don’t care. I’m finishing this now. I don’t care what it takes. I raise my machete and plunge it into his exposed stomach. I hear the guts squelch and feel hot blood ooze over me and drip down my legs. The familiar stench of iron and scorched flesh violates my nose, but I continue. I twist and grind the machete against anything I can feel inside there. I stab again and again and again and again and again. Each stab makes him scream louder and thrash more, but I hang on. I’m wrist-deep in guts, elbow-deep in blood, and waist-deep in fire, but I don’t care. This man will die.
Commander holds my hands and has the gall to look me in the eye. “How much more blood do you need to spill?” he stops yelling and thrashing and just stares at me with grit teeth. Hot tears are still gushing from his eye and he’s… smiling. It looks as if invisible hooks are pulling his lips into a grin.
“UNTIL YOU STOP MOVING!!!” I try to throw off his grip, but he stays strong.
“Why… was the blood of my village not enough?” he starts pushing my machete back.
“You had it coming!” My body won’t stop shaking. My spine rejects my flesh and my breath feels like it’s melting my mouth. “You all deserved it…”
“That’s what they all say…” The rest of Commander’s face begins to melt off. His skin begins to liquify and I start to see parts of his skull. Despite this, he starts to wrest the machete out of my hands. “I’m not dying… not yet… not until… my family can know peace…” he rotates the machete and points it to my chest. Little by little, he starts pushing it towards me.
“Shut up! JUST SHUT UP!!!” I kick his arm, loosen his grip over the machete, and regain control.
By the time I raise the machete again, Commander’s lips have burnt off and his eyes are starting to bubble. “Tell me… what did my mother do…? What did my brothers do… to deserve such a cruel fate?”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!” I stab and cut his innards until I see his eyes go hollow and his arms go limp.. I reach up deep into his chest, feel the machete plunge into something spongy, then let go and jump off. His corpse is still on fire, my legs are burnt, and my pants are still ablaze. I run into a puddle of half-melted snow water and roll around like a filthy animal until the fire on me is out.
Once the fire goes out, so does my spirit. I come crashing down and lie on my side with my body half submerged in icy water, my torso is caked in blood and dirt and my face is caked in mud. The fire on the man’s corpse eventually goes out and I see David trudge towards me.
“Astrid… Astrid…” David kneels down before me with the shrapnel still stuck in his cheek. His arms up to his elbows look red and inflamed. There’s some blistering around his palms and fingertips, but no pus is coming out… not yet anyway. Looks like first-degree burns… could be alot worse. Aside from the shrapnel in his cheek and the burns all over his arms, he looks pretty good. Way better than me or Commander right now. His hair is a complete mess, his robes are in tatters and doused with water, mud, and scorch marks. Snot’s dripping down his lip and tears are flowing down his eyes. “I am… I am okay… Did… did I do well…?”
“Ya did good… kid…” I somehow manage to shoot him a thumbs up before burying my face in mud.
“W-what about you?” he looks down at me with heavy eyes and a jaw that won’t stop trembling. “I-I did not set you on fire, did I?”
“Oh, this? Nah… I just got a little handsy… that’s all.” The mud smells so nice… so wet. So relaxing. I want to bury myself in mud forever like the worm I am. “I’ve been burned worse… you got nothing to worry about.”
“We need a doctor.” David tries to pull my arm out of the mud. “Where do we go?”
“David… look… I don’t know where we are… I don’t know where anything is… I just know I need a nap right now… Can you handle that?”
“H-how long?”
“Ten minutes… Just let me lie down…”
“Very well. I shall watch over you.” David rubs his eye, winces, and shakes his arm. “I shall count to 600.”
I blink and instantly fall asleep.
“Astrid. Astrid… Please… wake up. Please…” David weakly pokes my cheek.
“You’re kidding…” My eyes open slightly and glare over at David. “No way that was ten minutes.”
“It was fifteen.” David rubs his arm. “You tried to kick me when I woke you up five minutes ago.”
“Dammit…” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No.” David rubs his good cheek. “But my face is starting to hurt again and I cannot stand.”
“Don’t you worry.” I yawn, stand up, and pick David up. “I’m going to patch you up.” I carry him over to the hill of avalanche snow and lay him on his back. Sit down next to him, sling the trunk and satchel off my back, and pull out another chewable. Only three left after this… gotta make them count. I press the blues to his lips. “Open.”
David opens his mouth and starts chewing the blues like candy. His face gradually grows more and more relaxed and his eyes start to close.
“How’s it taste?”
“Awful.” David grimaces. “Like rotten berries.”
“Heh…” I fish my suture kit out of satchel and begin prepping. “It’ll grow on you. Can you still hear me alright?”
“I can. Yes.” David weakly nods his head. “Is it bad if… if I fall asleep?” David yawns.
“As long as you don’t have trouble breathing, you’ll be fine.” I disinfect the pliers and pinch them together to make sure they still work. “Taking a nap would actually help both of us right now.” I disinfect and dry the area around the wound as well.
“I shall… try…” David’s breathing slows down, but remains steady. He buries his arms in the snow and lies there stiff as a log.
“Don’t move.” I hold his head in place with one hand and clamp onto the shrapnel with the pliers. The shrapnel’s irregular, shiny, and sticking out a good two inches out of his cheek. Bout half as thick as my finger too. Almost looks like a mangled, burnt arrowhead. I hold my breath and begin slowly pulling the shrapnel out.
David lets out a pained whimper, grits his teeth and tries to move his face away.
“You’re doing great.” I tighten my grip on his head. “Almost out…” I free the shrapnel from his cheek and get a good look at the whole thing. Nearly as long as my index finger and is dripping with his blood. I toss it into the snow next to me and peer inside for any additional pieces. There’s two little bits that broke off, but I can get them out just fine. They aren’t too deep. I reach in and take them out as well. David tries to squirm and whines, but I get them out before he can hurt himself.
“W-wait… stop…” David starts crying again.
“I got the big piece out.” I rub his shoulder. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t look too bad.” I lie.
“Are there any more…?” A see a tear roll down his cheek and into the wound.
“Just a tiny one above your left eyebrow.”
“I cannot feel that one…”
“Then you should be fine.” I ruffle his hair. “Just relax. You’re doing great. You’re a brave boy.”
“Thank you…” David sniffles.
I pluck out the piece above his eyebrow. It’s about as big as his fingernail. Looks like bone. Maybe a finger. Maybe a piece of a vertebrae. Hard to tell. The important part is that it’s not his. I wipe down the wounds again and begin threading the stitching needle. “I’m going to start stitching you up now. Okay? How’s the pain?”
“I-I feel something on my cheek. It is not pain, but I feel like it should be pain, a-and that upsets me.”
“Good to hear.” I hold his cheek steady. “This’ll be over before you know it. Just don’t talk.” I pierce his cheek and start stitching up the wound.
David winces and his legs squirm a little, but he’s listening to me and keeping that face nice and still. Three minutes pass and I tighten the thread, close up the wound and dry it off again. I repeat the process for the wound above his eyebrow. His face looks like it’s aged ten years. “You can talk now.” I rub his head and begin disinfecting and drying my thigh. “You did great.”
“Thank you, Astrid… Thank you...” David takes a deep, irregular breath and opens his eyes. He’s trying really hard not to cry, but failing miserably. Fortunately, he’s too tuckered out and out of breath to ball his eyes out, so he just snivels and squirms.
“Don’t mention it.” I peer into my wound. I barely have enough thread to close it all the way. Definitely going to have to stock up on supplies when we get out of here. I thread a new needle, bite down on a tightly-packed chunk of snow, and begin stitching myself up. Ten minutes pass, my leg’s patched up, and I fall back into the snow and catch my breath. My brain’s on fire. The Mist, blues, and general exhaustion is weighing my body down, but my mind won’t shut up. I have another headache. Worst headache I’ve ever had. Feels like something’s punching and clawing out from inside my skull trying to break free. I want to yell and cry, but my body lacks the energy to do that. All I can do is lie here and hope my head gets it over with and just explodes already. The voices are only getting louder and louder now. My head’s the only thing that isn’t numb. They’re all calling my name and won’t stop praising me. I recognize each and every voice. My teeth are aching too and my fingers are digging and writhing in the snow. The teeth aching could just be from chewing snow… doesn’t explain the finger twitching though.
“Astrid?” David finally stops crying and clears his throat.
“Yeah?” I stare up at the blank mist above me and wonder if something’s looking back at me. If it is, why hasn’t it eaten me yet? I’ve heard nothing but horror stories about the Mediterranean, and yet I’ve only encountered two yappers… what gives?
“Where did you learn surgery like this? Were you a doctor?”
“Nah.” I somehow manage to shake my head and feel fluid slosh around in my skull. It feels thick. Heavier than my brain. “Just learned that in school and got a lot of practice over the years. This was nothing. You should’ve seen the injuries I had to fix in my final exams.”
“That is amazing… Can you teach me to do that when we get out of here?”
“Of course.” I rub my head and close my eyes. “Only if you teach me some fire magic.”
“Oh…” David’s voice retreats.
“Don’t think I’m going to forget about that.” I glance sideways at David and see him looking down at me with defeated eyes and a hollow face. “I thought you said you didn’t know any fire magic.”
“I said I could never use it…” David clutches a snowball. “What happened back in Pekev? Why did those soldiers explode? I-I didn’t mean to make them blow up!”
“They were hopped up on scarlet.” I hold his hand with my left hand. “If you take too much cheap scarlet, volatile deposits start to form over your joints and organs and explode if exposed to heat or strong impact.” I tighten my grip on his hand. “If it wasn’t you, it would have been something else that made them explode. You can’t blame yourself.”
“B-but I killed people! Those people had families and friends! And now they are gone!” David starts crying again, but no tears leave his eyes and no snot drips from his nose or distorts his voice. Poor kid’s so dehydrated he ran out of tears.
“Everyone’s got a family. Would you have preferred we died?”
“No… just… I did not want anyone to die…”
“David. You saved me. That was a good deed. I’m sure the Matriarch and Monastery will forgive you. I’m sure violence is allowed in some circumstances in your faith.”
“It is… but…”
“But nothing. We’re alive and that’s what matters. If they didn’t want to die, they shouldn’t have created a warzone.”
Well done.
Well done.
Paradise awaits you, my children. After all these years… I’ve finally found it… Come to me. Your Pilgrimage is almost over.
“But…”
“David.”
“No, Astrid!” David holds my hand and looks around. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“The voice saying ‘paradise awaits’.”
“Oh… no… Now you hear it?” I climb to my feet, sling the trunk onto my back, and look around for the source of the noise. “How long have you heard that voice?”
“I do not know… ever since we fell down here? You hear it too?”
“I’ve been hearing it. What has it been telling you?”
“It has been calling me by my name and telling me I succeeded in my pilgrimage.” David smiles warmly, holds his cheek, rises to his feet, and leans on me. “Am I hallucinating?”
I feel something fetid bloat into my stomach. My guts sink and my lungs distort to conceal a scream. “I hope so…”
Astrid.
I hear something whisper in my right ear and my heart grows weak. My eyes shut and my throat tenses up. Against my better judgement, I turn right and see a small light in the distance and the outline of a tall woman next to it. She’s beckoning me.
“David… do you see that too?”
David’s weary face erupts into a smile. All exhaustion evaporates from his eyes in an instant. “The Matriarch! She is here!”
A strong, caring voice bellows in the distance and a warm gust washes over us. “Astrid! David! Come on! You’re almost here! I’m rooting for you! You can do this!”
My heart flips upside down and plummets into my intestines. I’ve experienced an excess of mist hallucinations in my time. That is no hallucination. People don’t share hallucinations. It’s too real. Too clear.
“Matriarch! I’m coming!” David breaks free of my grip and starts sprinting towards the figure with his limp arms at his side.
“David! WAIT!” I start chasing after him, but can’t keep up. I can barely manage a brisk limp without my leg erupting with pain. My leg’s still busted, the trunk’s weighing me down, and my body feels like it’s pumped full of iron ore. I can barely stay awake, let alone chase down a sprinting child.
“Come on, Astrid! The Matriarch can help you!” David turns back and beckons me, but keeps sprinting forward. “She is here to save us! We are going to be okay!” I see David disappear into the mist. A few moments later, the figure bends down and lifts something up in a warm embrace.
I’m not a religious woman, but if I were, I would not know which deity to pray to. I can’t do anything in this state. Once again, I find myself at the mercy of whatever fate awaits me beyond the Mist. If this is the end, all I can do is march forward and face it standing up. I march towards the Mist and prepare to meet the Matriarch.