Within two hours of the Senatorial Guard arriving at the gates of the Triad, I had been forced out of my nice comfy bed. And anyone who says I was bitching about and trash-talking the wonderful creation for weeks is an Ancestor forsaken liar. That bed was my beloved, and now it was gone.
A plain but usable pair of leather boots, brown canvas pants, and a cotton tunic were tossed onto my chest as I was settling down for a well-deserved nap. It had been a long day of reading and conversing with visitors, after all.
Some might say I was going to bed early after doing nothing but sitting on my ass for weeks. But they have obviously never sat in a bed most of the day reading, interspersed with periods of healing. The small sessions of healing and venting kept me at the same level of physical fitness as I arrived, though it was more painful than normal healing.
And yet, after all their supposed care, I found myself, after a matter of minutes, standing outside of the medico ward leaning against its wall with orders to report to the scout barracks.
I knew I was expected to report immediately — what order is delivered without expectation of immediate compliance? — but the orders I was given weren't so specific, and I felt no real rush. There was also the concern of if I was able to do it… but a legion doesn't concern itself with what's possible, only what is required.
Turning my head, I looked at my arm planted against the wall.
During the minutes I was being quickly ushered out of the ward, the steward might have helped me get to my feet. And acted as a post while my feet got their shit together and started moving in the same direction. And kept me standing while my knees didn't want to stay straight.
The steward getting me out the door was all fine and good, but me leaving his rocky replacement, which was keeping me standing, was another matter entirely.
Carefully lifting up my left leg at the hip, I flopped my leg to the side. It was like fighting that sausage in a pan that refused to cook on one side.
After an annoyingly long time, I got my leg to lock in place and used it more as a post to keep my back pressed against the wall.
The strange looks I was getting from those walking down the street quickly disappeared as I became another man leaning against a wall instead of the insane person kicking the air.
I looked across the thirty-yard street, watching the river of life go by, my free hand flexing at my waist, searching for the hilt of a sword that wasn't there. A growing urge inside me didn't want to get any closer to them. I don't trust them… I thought, then blinked in surprise as I realized what had just passed through my mind, then wrinkled my brow in concentration.
Such a sight of people was nothing new to me. I had seen whole legions moving together in the field. And walked through cities containing three times the population of the Triad within their walls. But I had never seen so many people moving with purpose within the Triad itself.
Not that I had suddenly become afraid of being around so many people. No, what had me on edge wasn't so simple as a phobia.
Maybe Sathera didn't notice as she was out training. It could have been that she didn't want to see it, so she didn't. But I suspected she didn't want to overly concern me while I was still recovering.
A hundred legionaries were within my sight, but I was not looking at a single unit of a century or the representatives of the 15th. I was looking at a collection of individuals.
The acrid, corrosive tang of suspicion filled the air. It was so thick it was seeping into my mind like contaminated groundwater into a well, and I found myself looking at those who were passing by like they were a second from jumping at me with a drawn dagger.
I started tracking the occasional civilian carrying bundles of food, clothes, or any of the other thousand things a legion at war needed and found they were even worse than me. Little bubbles had formed around them, and anyone that stepped into them caused the skittish individuals to shy away.
It was… honestly not a place I should be with the condition my mind was in.
Closing my eyes, I started taking slow, steady breaths to calm my racing heart. I flexed my arms and abdomen before releasing the mussels and shaking out the stiffness.
The anxiety had seeped into my body without me knowing it was happening.
Tentatively, at a pace that would make a snail's epic journey look like a flash of lightning, I force myself to reach into my mind and touch upon my pool of mental energy. The barest edge of my will brushed against the mental energy, and the result was like dropping a crystal vase from a five-story building.
All of my mental energy in my core surged out and scattered around my body. Stifling a small groan of discomfort as the wild energy caused what felt like miniature cramps across my whole body, I set about gathering up some of the mental energy.
It was like trying to usher thousands of droplets of oil to one side of a bowl of water. The slightest wrong motion or a smidgen too much willpower for one instant would cause everything I had gathered to scatter once more.
And just touching the mental energy was like trying to catch a fleck of dust floating in the air with your hand. The rapid movement of my will would drive away what I was trying to catch.
After around twenty minutes, I finally gathered enough energy to… form a shield around my mind. A task that should have taken me nothing more than a thought, a fraction of a second, took me twenty minutes.
It wasn't just the mental and soul damage I suffered. That was an issue. And it was precisely that. Was, as in, it was an issue that had already passed. Should have already passed.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
According to the doctors, I was perfectly healthy and could be released anytime. But my head was filled with so much external mental energy that they were keeping me around to make sure I vented it properly so I didn't have an aneurysm and suddenly die. Or so they said…
My inability to stand normally or control my mental energy was also a concern for the medicos — or more like a topic for a research paper and the real reason I was being kept around. And no one could understand why I was having so much trouble with what should be simple tasks.
During the trip on the river and… events in the Northern Fort, I could see now that I wasn't thinking the best at the time. My thoughts were clouded and kind of slow, and while using mental energy was excruciatingly painful, I could do it.
Now it was like… Every day of my life, I had been walking into a strong wind while carrying a fully laden legion pack, and now it's finally gone.
Everything was just so easy now. Too easy. It didn't matter if I was trying to be careful. I was using a sledgehammer for what required a child's finger.
No matter how hard I tried, I could not shrug off a lifetime of expectations and practice.
I felt fine, and the medicos told me I was fine, but every time I tried to move, to use my mental energy, I expected a fight that never appeared.
What made me feel like shit was the struggle I was having with my mental energy. I devoted my life to increasing my control and mastering mental techniques that were dangerous. So dangerous for me specifically that I should have outright died attempting them.
Yet I kept hanging on by the tips of my fingernails. Suffering silently through the mental damage I brought onto myself over and over, reaching past my limits. Ignoring the pleas for me to stop.
Ignoring Bark. My eyes stung, and my lips twitched as I tried to keep my face straight as the memory of her voice reared up within my mind, "Damn you, child! Why is it that I see you more than my assistant!? Do you want to die young?"
She was abrasive and difficult to deal with, but more than anyone else within the Triad, she was my family. And she was crushed while saving the lives of those who hated her.
I pushed down my flaring anger at the beastkin. At the legion. At Kanieta. The republic. It wouldn't do anything for anyone.
Steadying my breathing again, I released my clamped eyes and fists, then solidified my shield with my willpower.
The rest of the mental energy lazily swirling around my body, I ignored. It would either work its way out of my body and dissipate into the surroundings or collect back into my core.
Either way, I was done fumbling my way around my own power as I tried to control it like a child. With my mind shielded, it was time to move along.
Keeping one arm stretched out to keep in contact with the wall, I started shuffling down the road. Within ten feet, my steps improved from an infant taking their first steps to a drunken pirate.
I was still in the process of falling over, but at least I could say I was falling over as an adult. That doesn't really make it better, though, does it…
Keeping my mind focused on the positive, I continued walking until I reached a challenge that was just too much for me. No person could possibly achieve such a feat!
"It's ten feet…" Snarked Kathren to my side.
"Can't you see me ignoring you here?" I said, not looking at her standing in the shadows of the alley, "I'm kind of busy."
Okay, I got this! I thought, pumping myself up. I can do t—
“…I'm sorry…" She said softly, sounding guilty.
"For?" I prompted, not really paying attention as I eyed the steps I would have to take.
"I left you and the others… I heard about what happened… An—
"Oh? I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there." I said, finally giving her my full attention as I drew myself up and gave my sloppiest salute. I think I have reached a new peak, I thought, marveling at my own performance of indifference.
“Wha—
"I mean, I thought you were a subordinate I didn't have to give two shits about as they followed my orders. Not a superior! Are you a lofty Legatus in disguise?!" Finishing, I turned away from the stunned woman, my assault finalizing within my mind. "Now excuse me, ma'am."
Confidently pushing off the wall and planting my foot forward, I immediately collapsed.
My step was solid. No one could say shit about my step!
Someone could talk about how I was so focused ahead I didn't use enough focus on keeping my back leg strong as I stepped.
Ahh, fuck! I thought as I tried to twist my body and throw my arms out to land on my back, but all I did was flail my arms around and tweak my back as I angled my fall to land on my shoulder.
Thin arms slid under my body, but any thoughts I might have about their weakness vanished as my fall was stopped cold.
"Is falling over anyway to greet a superior?" Kathren asked, her voice slightly tight as she tried to speak in a joking manner.
"That's the good thing about being an elf," I said, flashing a smile as she lifted me back to my feet, "everyone expects us to have the manners of gutter trash."
"Re'lly?" Kathren asked, sounding just like every street rat I had ever interacted with, "Meybe I shal le've ya here's to get yer'elf more aqu'nted with ta tresh?"
“Ahh…" I said, feeling an instinct it would be worse to say nothing as I cursed the Ancestor for my stupid blank mind.
Kathren smiled at me, but as I looked into her brown eyes, there was only a vindictive amusement. All she did — all she had to do — was take a step back and give my chest the smallest of pushes.
It was all that was needed.
My eyes widened, and my butt clenched as I felt myself falling backward, throwing out my arms to grab onto something. I found that I was square in the middle of the alley, with my only source of help a scorned woman… Feck.
Accepting my fate, I let my arms hang at my sides, only for something to press into my back, pushing me forward and balancing me out.
I felt a body slip under my arm. Looking down from where my eyes were focused on the cloud-dotted sky streaked with the crimson of the setting sun, I saw Kathren taking most of my weight onto her shoulders.
She looked up at me with dancing eyes, her lips quirked in amusement, "Never thought I would stumble back to the barracks with someone and not be wasted."
"It's the draw of the legion," I said, "you never know what you will experience or what will be over the next horizon."
"Sore feet, a shit bunk, and rocks for food?"
“Shh…" I Hissed, looking around and eyeing everyone around us, "You might give away some of our secrets!"
Kathren snorted in amusement, and we walked down the street with my arm thrown over her shoulder.
As the minutes passed, I was gradually able to pull most of my weight off the woman. I was nearly collapsing every dozen steps, but I was improving!
There was nothing like the motivation of wanting to stop relying on a woman a head shorter than me to walk. The looks thrown at me were bad enough, but my back was starting to hurt as I walked half-hunched over.
Just as I was about to suggest walking by myself, a voice called out from the passing crowd, "Scout Green! It's so good to see you again!"