Fuyuko bit back a groan as Gil examined her shoulder. “Well, there’s no sign of infection, so I think we’re past the stage where it’s a worry. It’s still too injured to try getting your armor on yet, but we can at least switch to one of your shirts in the morning, and then put you in a sling.”
She sighed and reached over to hitch the edge of the shirt he’d lent her back over her shoulder. It really was too bulky for her and made her feel small. Which was a nice change, except it made her feel even younger too. But that might just be the feeling helpless part. “Thanks,” she said, which was about all she could do right now.
This was the first time they’d walked more than half of a day, and it wasn’t a lot more than that, but it still left her exhausted. She wasn’t even carrying her own gear. At least they’d been able to travel on the road now. She’d been uncertain at first, and nervous any time they passed any sort of guards or soldiers, but only one set even tried to cause them trouble. Gil had simply laid his hand on the hilt of his sword, and an oppressive air suddenly made it feel hard to even breathe. The soldiers had left with haste after that.
“You’re welcome.” He smiled, then started setting up the rest of their camp. “I wish I’d had more healing potions, we’d have you all patched up, but at least I can verify that the alchemist I got that set from is reliable. I hate trying out new suppliers with things that critical.”
As Gil continued to chat, Fuyuko watched him, fidgeting with the desire to do something. But he would yell at her to sit down and heal if she tried. And he was probably correct, but it didn’t sit right to not do something. She still couldn’t remember any details about the Sanctuary, but she was certain that they all worked together to help each other, and right now she didn’t feel like she was doing her part.
“I really need ta pay ya back when I can. It ain’t right that I’m just mooching off of you.”
He snorted, “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’d do it for free anytime, I don’t really care about those things, but I think I know who I might convince to pay me back anyway.”
She frowned and asked, “What do you mean?”
“It’s simple really. I’ve had a chance to get a really good look at your gear. Your armor isn’t just patched, it’s healed. Bloody dungeon tricks.”
“What? Healed? You mean it repaired itself?”
“Hah, no. I mean healed. Oh, it’s not alive. Not really. But it’s not not-alive either.” He waved a hand in a frustrated gesture. “I don’t really get it myself, but according to a friend, there’s lots of room between ‘alive’ and ‘dead’. Like that peryton you killed; the creature as a whole was dead shortly after it lost consciousness from blood loss. But the flesh doesn’t die as fast as the whole creature, it dies in parts. She showed me a detailed chart, and I still haven’t forgiven her for that. I didn’t want to know those sorts of things.”
“Anyway, your armor, it can heal. The stitches I made are gone, the twine absorbed. If it’s as good as I think it is, so long as there is a reasonable-sized scrap left, you can ‘feed’ it leather and stuff and it will slowly grow itself back together. It's not as fast as the self-repairing enchantments, but it’s more reliable, even if it can only be done with stuff like leather. Self-repair enchantments usually break somewhere between a third and a half of the material being gone. This stuff? You could pull enough scraps together to barely make it a tenth of the original, and they’d grow together into a new one. Though specific enchantments may not last through that sort of abuse, and it might take several months.”
Fuyuko gaped at him. “How is that possible?”
Gil shrugged. “Dungeon magic. And it doesn’t take power to do it, it takes knowledge and understanding. The sort of knowledge that a baby dungeon less than a decade old shouldn’t understand yet.” He shot her a grin. “And yet you are headed for a dungeon that hasn’t been around for half a year yet. I think something fishy is going on, and I have a spark of hope in my heart. But we’ll see how that turns out.”
She shook her head in mild confusion. The idea of a druid with living leaf and bark armor made sort of sense, it was proper nature magic and stuff. But leather was dead stuff, it shouldn’t be sort of alive but not really. “How do you know all this stuff?”
He chuckled at the question. “I’ve been around for a long time kid. You learn stuff along the way. If you stop learning, you stop growing. And if you stop growing, well, eventually you stop living.” His voice had dropped lower as he spoke. “I’ve seen it happen. Lots of people I knew who could still be around, but they stopped growing and changing, and then they just stopped,” He sighed, “Bah, you’ve made me feel old now. Well, I suppose it’s good to be reminded occasionally, so long as I don’t dwell on it.”
Fuyuko didn’t say anything in response, as she didn’t know what to say. She was too busy trying to figure out how old Gil really was and feeling a little overwhelmed by the potential answer to that question.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
----------------------------------------
Bellona staggered out of the caverns, finally successful after her third attempt. Her escort party was in better shape, but they weren’t the ones who’d been at the front soloing everything. She was grinning though, it had been exhilarating to push herself like that. And she’d managed to grab quite the haul in the central cavern, despite it changing shape while they were in it. That had forced her to find a new route to the surface, though at least she hadn’t been cut off from the others.
Once she was officially clear of the entrance, the orc champion allowed herself to slide to her knees and just breathe for a while. Every fiber of her being ached, and she was pretty certain that her soul was part of what had hurt. For all that she had been incorporating the essence and spirit of the elements into her spirit, the twisted energy and intense pressure from those caverns had left fresh marks. There hadn’t been a single moment that she had been free of tendrils of elemental energy entwining with her own reservoirs of will and power.
The challenge had been finding just the right balance to not let bits of herself be torn away, while not spending too much effort in fighting off the intrusion. Letting those threads reside inside of her had let them slide ever deeper, even further altering her body and soul.
But it was done now. Bellona was vaguely aware of congratulations and cheers, and then a large flask that smelled of a mixture of healing potion and spirits was shoved into her hands. She gulped it down eagerly, then staggered back to her feet with only a small bit of assistance. There was a feast awaiting her, and she was not going to miss it. But a bath first, the fires were just being stoked now that her success had been verified by her escort.
The night was ripe for a wild party, for it was her graduation party and Bellona didn’t have to train in the morning, and she was ready to loosen some of her self-imposed standards for when she was in a training environment. It’d be good to look and smell her best first.
----------------------------------------
Moriko and Kazue left the smithy’s house to explore the small town, though Moriko wasn’t expecting a lot. It was barely more than a village. Sadly, her expectations were pretty much met. There were farms to the north of the road, along with a general store and a single tavern. There was also a tanner on the far side of the town, kept even further away from the rest of the buildings than the smithy was.
There were children playing along the edge of the forest to the south, and several trails that lead deeper. Hunters and loggers were both allowed into the forest, but with strict rules and limitations that the clan was quite willing to enforce themselves. Loggers were only allowed to take down diseased trees, and hunters were not allowed to hunt foxes, or use most types of traps, and those that could be used needed to be closely monitored. They were also limited in how much game each hunter could take and when certain animals could be hunted. Herbalists had to be careful as well, they were not allowed to harvest enough to bring long-term harm to the plants.
Moriko’s wandering thoughts were interrupted as the pair of them noticed a commotion at the edge of the forest, and they hurried forward to find out what was wrong. No one noticed them at first, letting them get close to make out the gist of the argument. The townsfolk were demanding that the kitsune release a hunter they’d captured, and the kitsune were refusing, saying that he’d been caught with a fox pelt, while the townsfolk argued that the hunter must have caught the fox in the northern fields.
While the clan had no objection to hunters and trappers taking a regular fox as game elsewhere in the kingdom, some kitsune could take fox form even as children, so any practice that might bring harm to them was treated harshly.
As soon as they understood what was going on, Moriko exchanged a glance with Kazue, and at her wife’s nod, Moriko spoke to the crowd, putting a little air chi behind her voice to cut through the noise of the arguing parties. “We’d like to help. I’m a priestess of Sakiya, I may be able to help find the truth of the matter.” It wasn’t really the forte of Sakiya, but she did have a priest of Ozuran to call upon to help if needed, and she was already feeding both him and Kazue’s core information even if she was not asking for advice yet.
Her elevated voice temporarily quieted the two groups, who turned to stare at them. One of the kitsune spoke first. “We have no objection to your consultation, but we still reserve the right to judge the matter for ourselves.”
A human man with mostly gray hair spoke for the villagers. “We’d appreciate the help. While we acknowledge the justice of their rules, we don’t believe that the man they captured has broken them.” He frowned a little as he focused on Kazue. “Though I have some reason to question whether you’d be unbiased.”
Kazue shifted uncomfortably as so many pairs of eyes focused on her, then straightened her back in defiance of her own embarrassment. “Perhaps we should introduce ourselves properly. I am Kazue, formerly of the Azeria clan and now an honorary member, as my official loyalty is to my own territory. This is my wife Moriko, who is a monk and priestess of Sakiya. Some of the children have already recognized her as ‘The Running Lady’. We are also married to Mordecai, who is a priest of Ozuran, and whom Moriko is able to communicate with directly. Mordecai and I are the two cores of the Azeria Mountain Dungeon that lies just south of the border. Er, well, I’m the avatar of my core, I mean,” she wrinkled her nose and then sighed, “That part’s complicated, but I’m the part of the dungeon that can go outside of the dungeon.”
A murmur swept through the crowd, but the two kitsune’s eyes widened in recognition, and one of them spoke up. “We can verify her identity, I am just sorry I didn’t recognize Kazue immediately.” She bowed slightly. “Your bearing has changed, it seems that your new life has done you well.” Her eyes shifted to the elder who had spoken before. “You may doubt our judgment, but I do not think you doubt our sincerity. They are officially rulers of an allied sovereign state. They have no authority, but their word does carry weight.”
The elder stroked his chin thoughtfully. “This is consistent with what I know. Very well, let’s see what they can make of this mess.”