“Tempest! Tempest, what happened?”
In an instant, Celeste was snapped out of the thoughts she had been left in. Here was Tempest at the door to her home, blood pouring out of his wing. The muscular Caelestiventus had bruises and scars all over his body. There was blood- judging by the way it splattered, someone else’s blood- mottled across his wing-arms. His own blood poured out from a gaping wound at the center of his right wing and trickled down across his chest, landing in a pool at his feet. The robe he usually wore was stripped off and tied into a pouch around his shoulders. One of his legs was twisted at an odd angle- it was surely broken. He was leaning his weight against the doorframe, barely keeping himself upright. How much blood had he lost?
“I came to see you,” he said, weakly, offering a slight smile. He winced from the effort and Celeste felt her heart sink. Tempest’s handsome beak was mired with a series of cuts and bruises, one especially nasty one right below his left eye. It looked as though he had gotten into a fight with a tree and lost. “I ran into some trouble on the way.”
Tempest attempted to step into Celeste’s home but lost his balance. She rushed over to brace him before he fell, just managing to catch him before he hit the ground. His muscular body was almost entirely limp in her wings. Despite his efforts to walk with her, his legs could barely function and she had to drag most of his weight herself. It was difficult to move him, but Celeste managed to help him into her home and over to her fern bed, laying him down as gently as she could manage.
Celeste’s heart was pounding with anxiety at the state of her beloved. What had happened to him? Still, she had been a healer long enough to know that keeping her composure was key to healing. If she panicked, she would be no help to anyone.
“You’re really hurt, Tempest. Why didn’t you go straight to Asha?” Asha was the village’s premier doctor, several years older than Celeste and much more experienced. Not only was Asha a better healer, but she also lived out of the village hospital. Celeste had a few supplies in her home, but not many, and certainly not as many as Tempest would need. Whatever his reason, she was still thankful he was here. Her recent dreams had left her rattled, and it was a relief to see that he was still alive- at least here she could make sure she kept him that way.
“Might’ve been a good idea, but I couldn’t really think straight.”
“The blood loss, probably.”
“Probably. All I could think about was getting back to you.”
That’s sweet, Celeste thought, fetching a few plants from a windowsill that she could use to dress the wound in his wing. She was glad to know that someone was thinking about her. She knew that he did, of course, but it felt good to hear him say it.
I wish I could tell him I’ve been worried about him too. Celeste’s mind flashed back to that dreadful premonition in her dream where she was forced to witness the death of her eggs. She was certain that she knew who the father of those eggs was, and he hadn’t been there to protect them; deep down, she knew why that must have been: he had died too. How can I tell him about my dreams without mentioning Singulus? She remembered his parting warning: she had to defend him, if she wanted to keep her family-to-come safe, and that meant keeping him a secret. She didn’t have a shred of doubt that Singulus had the power to bring about the fate he threatened if she dared disobey.
“But also, I didn’t know who else to turn to with this,” Tempest coughed and bolted upright, as though he had remembered something he had forgotten. He groaned at the movement and Celeste urged him to lay back down before he hurt himself again; he needed to rest right now. Instead of heeding her instructions, he unslung his makeshift satchel and dumped out its contents on the edge of the bed: a pummeled clay tablet and a silver necklace with a pendant Celeste couldn’t quite make out at first glance. “I believe the village is in danger, Celeste.”
“Danger?” Celeste shuffled nervously and glanced back down at that necklace. Something about it upset her, but she couldn’t tell why. The pendant was at an odd angle, maybe it would make more sense if she turned it around?
“Yes. On the way here, I stopped at one of the guard towers along the road and found a dead soldier inside. I was attacked by the people who killed her, but I managed to escape.” Tempest paused, considering what to say. It was clear to Celeste that he was willfully omitting details about his ‘escape’. She thought back to the splatters of blood on his wings that definitely weren’t his. Did he…?
Tempest continued, cutting off her line of thought. “The soldier they killed, she was writing that tablet before she died. It got pretty beat up with the rest of me, but I hope it’s still legible. I’m going to need it.”
“Need it? For what?”
“To present to the village later. I need you to talk to Chief Styracus and convince him to call a collective meeting, as soon as possible. I have to warn everyone!”
“Warn them?” Celeste snapped, frustrated. She didn’t appreciate his being so cryptic, or trying to give her commands, especially not while she was focused on trying to heal his wounds. Tempest recoiled at her raised voice and she resumed in a softer tone. “Warn them about what, Tempest? You haven’t been especially forthcoming about this ‘danger.’ Or many other details, for that matter. The blood on your arms, whose is it?”
Tempest blinked in surprise, raising a claw to his temple. “It was from a crocodilian, a Doswellia, I think. He was trying to kill me.” Tempest sighed and broke off his gaze from Celeste’s. “I don’t mean to keep anything from you, Celeste, really. It’s just hard for me to think right now, thoughts are coming at me in bursts. And I don’t want to burden you with any, erm… details I don’t really want to think about either.” Tempest looked back at Celeste with a consternated expression. “But I don’t want to ever keep anything from you, Celeste. Later, when I’m more composed, if there are any details you want to know… I’ll tell you.”
“No, I’m sorry, Tempest, I know this can’t be easy for you. I won’t pry.” Celeste offered a consoling caress to his shoulder. Of course he was being honest with her, he always was. But she hadn’t considered the toll his violent escape might have been having on him mentally too. After Pax killed the temnospondyl threatening the pterosaurs, Celeste had had a conversation with Tempest about the traumatic impact that was sure to have on him; one didn’t take a life and get over it easily. With as gentle a voice as she could muster, Celeste continued, “but you still haven’t told me about this danger. I’m guessing its bigger than the death of one soldier?”
Tempest perked up and pointed down at the pair of items at his feet. Something about that necklace still upset her. She moved to another side of the bed to try and see the pendant better, but she still couldn’t quite make it up. Maybe it was upside down?
“That tablet- if you can still read it- was a warning from the dead soldier to her lieutenant. Soldiers were being drawn back to the High City, and she wanted her general to take back the order. She said there’s some sort of cult- her word- lurking somewhere in the hills nearby, and they have force to threaten the village; she said they killed an entire company of soldiers. If they come through here now, our guards won’t stand a chance. She wanted to stay back to help us prepare, but, well…”
“Right. And this cult, do you know anything else about them?”
There was an awful anxiety in Celeste now. She had a feeling she knew who it was that these cultists might be devotees of.
Celeste lifted the necklace as Tempest continued, “I don’t know, but I have some suspicion about what they worship. Both people who attacked me wore those necklaces; I’m guessing that whatever is inscribed on that pendant might be it. And one of them mentioned a name when I, erm… angered her.” She turned the pendant over in her claws and her heart sunk with immediate recognition of the figure’s carved likeness. “Singulus.”
Celeste wanted to break down in tears right there at the mention of his name. She had never heard it spoke aloud, not since that fateful day years ago when she had invoked it herself. His warning echoed in her mind: ‘when you hear my name in that world, know that the war has begun. Remember all that you’ve been shown.’
And she did. She remembered that burning, suffocating heat, the shells of her babies’ eggs crushed and shattered at her feet. And she remembered the vision of Singulus’s reward, of the golden palaces and adoration of the masses- of the exaltation of her children- that was to be her prize for obedience. Framed like that, it was an easy choice; but if serving Singulus meant the destruction of her home and harm to its people, how could that be right? If it meant lying to Tempest- faithful, honest Tempest- how could that be right?
A queasiness roiled up in Celeste’s stomach and she had to take a step back. She felt as though she was going to vomit or else she was going to collapse to the ground. She was trembling and doing her best not to shed any tears.
“Celeste?” Tempest was calling for her, but she felt very far away. He was close, but she felt again, so, so alone. She couldn’t tell him about Singulus, she couldn’t tell him about the deal she struck so long ago to take away her pain. How can I tell him I made a deal to make him love me? How could he ever forgive me for that? He called her name again, but she couldn’t look at him. He wasn’t there, not really, not to her. It was just her and that wicked tempter who bound her, and she was all alone!
Strong wings wrapped around her and bound her up in a tight embrace. Celeste cried openly now, and she still refused to look up at Tempest, who was wordlessly consoling her with a touch. He could barely stand, but he stood there with her nonetheless. Tilting her beak up to lock her eyes with his, he wiped away her tears with a gentle tender swipe of his claw.
“Celeste? It’s okay. I’m here.”
Celeste wanted to pull away from him again, to lower her gaze from his, but he wouldn’t let her.
By Singulus, I just want to be alone! Why won’t he let me be alone?
Celeste blinked once, and then again. Tempest wiped away another set of tears and then she blinked away the rest. She leaned into his body and let his weight support her. He was weak and tired, but that didn’t matter right now; he would hold her up as long as he still had strength enough to stand.
“I’m just a little scared, is all. This is a lot to take in.”
“I know, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Whatever these people are, whatever it is they want- I’m not going to let them hurt you, and I’m not going to let them harm your home. I promise, Celeste, as long as there’s still any strength in me, I’ll protect you.” But there didn’t seem to be much in the way of strength left in him right now. Celeste could feel him losing his balance and she issued a last squeeze with her wing before pulling away and helping him back to her bed.
Celeste’s heart pounded in her chest, the weight of her guilt constricting her breath. Tempest had suffered mightily and fought with every ounce of strength against his faltering strength to return to her- to protect her and the rest of her people. He had risked so much for her, and she couldn’t even bring herself to be honest with him? Choking from the guilt, the truth threatened to spill from her throat. She couldn’t keep this from him- she had to tell him the truth. She had to tell him any truth! So she spoke the truest words she knew:
“I love you, Tempest.”
“And I love you, Celeste,” Tempest offered a weak smile and settled back down into his bed with a wince. “I know it might not seem like it right now, but we’ll get through this. Together.”
Celeste could barely bear it any longer. She had to get out of here, before she spilled out all the things she wasn’t allowed to say. She nestled Tempest under the ferns as snugly as she could manage, and then offered a weak smile of her own- yet another lie.
“What you need right now is to rest, Tempest. That’ll be what will help you heal. Now, I’m going to go meet with Chief Styracus and make sure that you have an audience with the village tonight. On the way I’ll fetch Asha and get her to tend to you while I’m gone. Now make rest, you’ll need your strength for tonight.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you, Celeste.”
Celeste felt an awful pang of guilt.
“Today? Probably bleed out and die.” Celeste offered a mischievous smile- another lie to add to the list- and collected Tempest’s belongings at the foot of the bed, placing the tablet and necklace back into the makeshift satchel. She placed the satchel on the windowsill and made her way to the doorway. Before she left, Celeste cast a final glance back at her beloved.
Tempest’s eyes were closed and he was already asleep in unexpected contentment. He was the strongest person Celeste had ever known.
----------------------------------------
Tempest was awoken by a familiar caress at his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, he was met by the beautiful visage of Celeste.
“Good morning,” she offered, cheerfully, before excitedly bounding back to what she had been doing. Her mood had certainly improved quickly since the afternoon when Tempest had gone to sleep. His revelation about the impending danger to her home had clearly weighed heavily on her earlier. He had done what he could then to console her, but he didn’t have a very high perception of his abilities in that regard.
I guess I can’t argue with results, he thought. Tempest sat up on the bed and looked around. There was no light pouring in through the windows, which meant it still must be nighttime- or, as Celeste intimated, pre-dawn morning. Celeste stood before a mirror, busily applying a liner to her eyes. There was a jeweled necklace clasped around her neck and a pair of emerald wing-piercings had been applied to her wingtips. She must be in a very good mood, if she’s dressing up like that. Not that I’m complaining.
But it was unusual. Celeste didn’t wear jewelry or take special pains to present herself, unless there was some very special occasion. Tempest could only recall one other time, when she was still just a girl and they had gone to visit the monastery together. He recalled that it was all too large for her and he insisted that it was unnecessary to impress him or his friends, so she had taken them off; apparently she wasn’t a fan of them either.
“You look nice,” Tempest said, stretching. He could still feel the myriad bruises across his body and he winced from the movement. Nonetheless, he wouldn’t have the luxury of lying around until he was fully healed. If he was strong enough to stand and to think clearly again, that was all he needed, at least for now. He could regain the rest of his strength later.
“Thank you,” Celeste replied, with a smile. “I thought it was important to look nice for this meeting- the whole village is going to be there. I managed to convince Chief Styracus that it was important for everyone to be here, so he got everyone. The only ones not coming are a pair of guards, and they’re going to cycle through halfway. Anyways, I’m sure it’ll be stressful for you to make your case in front of everyone, so I figured I should look nice for you too.”
“That’s very sweet, Celeste, but you already do. I don’t mind- you look great, but you don’t have to dress up to impress me. You’re already the most beautiful person in Pangea; you don’t need to do anything else for me to love you. I appreciate the sentiment.” Tempest swept a wing around his face, pointing to his scars and bruises. “I wish I could return the favor.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Oh, don’t worry about those. I think they make you look brave and erm… rugged.” Celeste offered a half-hearted shrug. “There’s not much to help those anyways. I did, however, get you something to cover up the rest of you.” She beckoned to a piece of maroon armor at the foot of the bed. “I stopped by the forge on my way back here last night and convinced Atrius to let you borrow that. It’s just a shawl, meant to go over a soldier’s armor. It was fitted for another pterosaur around your size, so it should be able to fit over your body and most of your wings. I figured people might be a little more willing to hear you out if you didn’t look like a scarred warmonger.”
Tempest stood up, taking a moment to regain his bearings. One leg couldn’t move, but he was still able to use his other leg and wings to support himself. It hurt to walk, but he felt strong enough to stand on his own; that would have to do for now. He approached the guard’s shawl and held it up to his body. After a moment of appraisal, he slung it over his wings and pulled it down across his chest, holding it in place with an attached brooch fashioned after the village’s crest- a pair of pterosaur wings. It fit him surprisingly well and did an excellent job of concealing a good many of his visible injuries. It didn’t quite cover all of them- the gaping hole in his wing especially was distinctly visible from certain angles, but it would work.
“Thanks, Celeste. I hadn’t thought about that. How long before the meeting?”
“About an hour. You’ve got time to think about what you’re going to say.”
I’m going to need it. Tempest wasn’t a very austere speaker, nor did he like standing in front of a crowd. He thought it might be wise to review the tablet again and get the details of his story straight. Tempest cast a glance to the windowsill, but there was no sign of his satchel. I could’ve sworn that was where she left it.
“Celeste, did you move my robe? The pouch with the tablet?”
“No,” She replied, quickly. She froze, thought for a second, and then looked back at him. “It’s not where I left it?” She sounded quite worried.
Tempest scanned the room in a panic- where was it? I need that tablet. I’ll have a hard enough time convincing them it’s legitimate if I have it. Who would believe me without any evidence at all? Breathing a sigh of relief, he spotted it in a corner near the doorway.
Tempest opened the pouch and spilled out its contents. His breathe caught in his throat; the necklace was there, but the tablet was missing. He dug through the satchel multiple times over, then untied it completely. It certainly wasn’t there. He searched through the surrounding area in a frenzy, looking around every corner and under every leaf of his bed. Celeste was staring at him with her beak pursed in a concerned expression.
“Celeste?” Tempest rose and spun to face her, eyes wide. “You’re sure you didn’t move it?”
She shook her head, but didn’t answer.
“I need to find that tablet, Celeste. You said Asha was here while you were gone, right? How long was she here? Was she acting strange when you got back? Was there anything at all unusual about her? How long were you gone?” Tempest fired a whirlwind of questions, and Celeste staggered back. She was wringing her claws in that particular way she did when she was nervous. Tempest took a breath and exhaled; he must’ve seemed like a raving madman. “I’m sorry. It’s just really important I find it.”
“I know,” she said. Her voice was small, and she wore a strange expression- something like a mix of anxiety and shame. She wouldn’t look at him. She must’ve realized how important the tablet was to him.
“It’s not your fault it’s gone, okay?” Tempest walked over and draped a wing around her. He hated how ashamed she looked. She must be blaming herself. “But I need to find out where it went. If you know anything that can help me find it-”
“Asha was acting weird,” Celeste blurted, before Tempest could finish his sentence. “She was all jumpy when I got back, like she was up to something. Of course- anyone here could be working for Singulus! How didn’t I see it sooner? She must’ve known about the tablet and was trying to sabotage you!”
Now Celeste was practically a whirlwind herself, word after word streaming out in an excited flurry.
“If she was and she knew I knew about Singulus, why wouldn’t she have just killed me? It’s not like I was in much of a state to fight back.”
“Too risky,” she snapped quickly, pulling out of his embrace and pushing him toward the door. “Someone would’ve noticed if a monk disappeared from the monastery. Easier to slip the tablet out and disappear. Now hurry, Tempest, there isn’t much time to catch up to her before the meeting starts!”
That does make sense, he thought. And she was right, he didn’t have a whole lot of time. But she was acting weird. She must be worried about how well everyone is gonna take the meeting, especially if I can’t find this tablet for evidence. Celeste continued shooing him toward the door, but Tempest stopped her. He pushed past and ran back to where he left his robe and claimed the cultist’s necklace, dropping it into a pocket in his cowl. If he couldn’t get to the tablet in time, he would need something to present to the village.
Celeste paced nervously as Tempest rushed back to the door. He ran up to her, wrapped her in a tight embrace, and then pressed his beak to hers. “Whatever happens,” he said, twining his tail with hers. Some of her nervous tics settled. “I’ll find a way to bring us through this.”
With that, he released her and moved to leave, but she called to stop him at the entryway. He looked back and she had tears in the corners of her eyes, smearing her eyeliner. This must be so stressful for her, to know the safety of her home is hanging on me and a little clay tablet. Tempest wanted to offer her another hug, to sit down with her and comfort her and make sure she knew he was going to take care of her, but there wasn’t the time. He had to get this tablet. I swear, Celeste, I’ll find a way.
“If you don’t have enough time to come back, the meeting is going to be at the main courtyard. Everyone will be there.” Celeste looked away and rapped her twitching talon against the floor. She clearly had a lot more on her mind than what she was saying. She wanted him to think she was strong too. And she is. Stronger than anyone. “And just…” she trailed off, thinking about what to say. Finally, she looked back at him. “…just stay safe, Tempest. I love you.”
“I love you more.”
With that, Tempest slipped off into the pre-dawn dark.
----------------------------------------
Unfortunately for Tempest, Asha’s home was on the other side of the village- and he didn’t have much time to walk. If he still had full faculties of his wings, he could have easily flew the distance in a few minutes. That wasn’t a luxury he had. Instead, he had to spend a quarter of an hour limping his way through the village streets until he made it to her humble hospital- a little ramshackle hut built out of conifer like most of the other architecture.
It was an infuriatingly dark morning. Luckily for Tempest, most Caelestiventus had exceptionally good vision- a credit to their desert-faring roots where one’s eyes had to be strong to withstand the blaze of the sun by day and the shine of the moon and stars by night. This morning, the moon was a slender crescent whose trace amounts of lingering light were mostly obscured by rolling cloud cover.
A few torches were still lit around this area of the town, but not as many as usual. Several people had already left to begin congregating around the courtyard and had taken their torches with them to navigate the dark. A few torches were scattered around the perimeter wall of the village, but they were just far enough away from Asha’s home that the hospital was wreathed in large swathes of shadow.
It was uncomfortably quiet. A few cicadas chirped in the woods beyond the village walls, just about the only sound save the rhythmic pattering of guards patrolling around the village perimeter. The quiet was unsettling, mostly because it was a fairly foreign phenomenon in this part of the town. Even late at night, there was still often the occasional passing guard or evening trader returning home. Tonight, the air was punctuated by an eerie quiet as most of the village was waiting at the courtyard.
There was another reason Tempest didn’t like the unnatural quiet of the outdoors: he could hear the pained groans, wails, and wet coughs of patients in Asha’s hospital. The sounds only served to remind Tempest of the pain he was in with every step, as he carried one limp leg along with him. Asha had set and bound it so it would heal, but that really only amounted to keeping it from dragging along the ground as he walked; it still jerked with every step, sending another jab of pain through his system. All those wounded howls emanating from the enshrouded hospital didn’t provoke much of an interest to head in.
I’ve got to get that tablet, Tempest thought, massaging his aching leg. To make sure I didn’t go through all of this for nothing.
Steeling his nerve, Tempest entered Asha’s home. As soon as he did, a wave of putrid stench wafted over to him, and he nearly doubled over in a fit of coughs. Unfortunately for him, most Caelestiventus also had an exceptional sense of smell.
There were several leather stretchers set up around the room, four of whom were occupied. Three of them were the ubiquitous Lystrosaurus. The fourth was some variety of average-sized temnospondyl- she, though clearly sickly and nowhere near dangerous, was not someone Tempest wanted to go anywhere near. It wasn’t exactly fair to her- she hadn’t done anything to him and she looked to be in rougher straits than he was- but he had formed a bit of an apprehension to her kind after the incident at the pond.
Tending to one of the Lystrosauruses was Asha, a Coelophysis like Chief Elder Magnus but much, much younger; still, she was several years older than both Tempest and Celeste and she looked a lot older than them. The years and her profession had not been particularly kind to her. She wasn’t exactly a tender nurse and she wore a perpetual sneer. A seafoam green scarf was coiled around her neck- a surprisingly complimentary color to her salmon pink-red scales- held fast with the universal symbol of a healer: an intertwined pair of Nothosauruses wrapped around a shattered bone.
Asha may not be very tender, but what she was, was a very talented doctor. If she lived in a High City like Civitas Lapis, she might have been in the running for Surgeon Premier of the city. Unfortunately, her talents were relegated to servicing the peasantry of a little timber and fishing village. Maybe that was why she was always so crabby?
Maybe it’s enough to make her bitter enough to ally with a bloodthirsty cult? Though it was difficult for Tempest to fathom the grouchy doctor wanting to hurt anyone. She wasn’t very friendly, but she did care about preserving life. That much about her was evident, at least.
Asha looked up from her patient to assess the visitor. Seeing Tempest was no one in need of her immediate attention, she prescribed him a usual look of contempt and flicked her tail toward an open stretcher.
“Sorry monk,” she didn’t sound like it. “I have people who actually need my attention. I know your girlfriend wanted me to sit there with you until you woke up, but you didn’t need that attention. If you’re mad, you can tell her when you see her. Don’t take it up with me; my vows to the Placeriatic Oath matter a lot more to me than keeping a second-rate healer happy.”
“She’s not ‘second-rate’,” Tempest growled. Even if she wasn’t a cultist, she should be careful talking like that about Celeste. But that wasn’t important right now; he had to get his tablet back. “I heard you have something that belongs to me.” That came out a little more threatening than he had intended. Asha cocked a brow ridge before turning back to her patient, flicking her tail to the door.
“Really? You show up in my house to extort me? After I wasted my precious time and expertise caring for you- and without even a 'thank you'? You spend your whole life surrounded by ascetic monks and aren’t taught basic manners. What’s even the point of that monastery?”
Dispassionate disdain wasn’t really the reaction Tempest had expected. “My tablet? The one detailing the threat to the village?”
Asha looked at him, looked down her snout at him in the snooty way she did, shook her head, and then turned back to her work. Tempest had his shoulders arched, wings flexed and ready for a fight, but he hunched back down and let them relax. She really has no idea what I’m talking about, does she? He took a seat on one of the open stretchers.
“It was wrapped up in a robe, with a necklace?”
“If I stole something from you,” she said disdainfully, not looking up from her patient. “Do you really think your describing what I stole would impel me to return it to you? I don’t know if this is supposed to be an interrogation or something, but you’re- hmm, how to say this delicately- gratingly bad at it.”
“You don’t have any idea what I’m talking about?”
“I didn’t say that. I said you were bad at posing interrogatives. Yes, I saw that blood-soaked heap of gaudy cloth you usually wear-” Asha paused, narrowed her eyes and looked back at Tempest, appraising his new attire, and then went back to the task at hand. “You do look marginally more civilized, for what it’s worth. I saw your makeshift… hmm, purse, sitting on the windowsill, I believe. I didn’t touch it, so if something in there was missing, don’t try blaming me. Again, I have to ask: why didn’t you bother your girlfriend about it first? I’m a little busy.”
Tempest bristled at that. So it had been on the windowsill. Asha remembered where it was, so she would have known where to put it back. But if she didn’t move it, and neither did Celeste, who did?
“I did. She said you were acting suspicious when she came back.”
“Ha!” Asha barked a laugh, but it was spiteful, without any real mirth behind it. “No, monk, I was only there a few minutes last night. I fixed your leg and stopped up any bleeding, and then I came back to help the people who needed real attention.”
Asha waved a claw down at her patients and Tempest finally took the time to assess them. The Lystrosaurus she was tending to was covered by a shawl like Tempest’s, but dark blue- the traditional uniform of a guard from the neighboring village of Emmaus. What was he doing here? The rest of his gear, a metal breastplate, helmet, and short sword were laid beneath his stretcher, so that Asha could operate on him. The rise and fall of his chest indicated he was still alive, but his eyes were closed. He was bloody, innumerable scars spread across his chest and face. There was a long cut down the center of his chest that appeared to have been sewn shut again, no doubt by Asha’s delicate claws.
Beside that guard was another, her body likewise draped in her cowl and her gear laid at her feet. Her breastplate was dented and her body hadn’t fared much better; a section of her ribcage was poking up through her chest and another section was caved in. Tempest couldn’t make out any rhythmic breathing. Poor soldier. He had a good idea of what might have done this to them.
The third Lystrosaurus appeared the best for wear, his body only suffering a few long scrapes and bruises. He was awake and was sitting up in his stretcher, assessing Tempest with a cold, detached gaze. He wasn’t clothed in a soldierly garb like the others but a fine cloth robe, whatever color it had been before now soaked a deep crimson.
“What happened to them?” Tempest asked, slinking down in his seat. He felt a little guilty for taking any time away from their care.
“They came in while I was busy with you, managed to drag themselves all the way up to our walls themselves, or so I heard. One of my nurses had to come get me to deal with them. There was an ambush, along the road between here and Emmaus. The one looking at you is a trader. These guards elected to escort him while he was traveling, for fear the roads weren’t safe, with the High City soldiers scurrying home and whatnot. Their prescience is commendable.” Asha sighed and lifted her head from her sleeping patient. She flicked her tail toward the other guard. “That one died trying to fight off a ‘giant crocodile with a hammer,' if you can believe that. Blunt trauma to the ribcage, her lungs were crushed and she choked on air.” Asha’s face was a placid, dispassionate frown. How many deaths has she seen?
“That one,” Asha pointed to the other side of the room, to the unconscious temnospondyl, and Tempest finally consigned himself to look at her. She was snugly wrapped in a permeable cloth, water drenched over her body. The folds of her slimy blue skin were cracked and weathered, likely from being deprived of essential water, and held an unnatural pallor. “Was a bystander, swimming in the river nearby. She joined in the fight to help the guards and took a pummeling of her own. Multiple broken bones, a shattered ribcage, internal bleeding, that sort of thing. Thankfully for her, not all amphibians have internal lungs; she’s one of them. There was no serious organ damage.” Tempest felt a pang of guilt for having judged her so quickly; she was on the verge of death, having sacrificed her own life for others. She was a hero, and he had wrote her off as yet another monster.
“The biggest danger to her right now is that her skin will dry out without water, and the current of the river is too strong for her to rest in it without further damage.” Asha shrugged. “I have one of my nurses fetching some water to pour over her. That should keep her alive for now. Unfortunately, with your little disruption coming up here in a few minutes, she’s going to join your audience, and I’ll have to go keep procuring supplies myself.” Asha presented her particular scowl, but it was half-hearted. She was looking at Tempest with an unspoken question in her eyes, and was expecting him to pick up on her intimation.
“It’s important, I promise. I was attacked on my way here, yesterday afternoon. By the sound of it, by the same person that came after them. I guess I got lucky,” Tempest said, looking down at the dead guard. “I found a tablet on a dead soldier with information about the people doing this; she believed there was a cult in the wild threatening the village. I was going to present the evidence I had to the rest of the village, but-”
“But you don’t have any evidence anymore, and you’re worried our people won’t be especially keen to heed the warning of an unknown outsider seeking to dilute our gene pool with one of the village’s daughters?” Asha cut him off with a dismissive wave. That’s not how I would have put it. “Not that I need any evidence to believe you- these four are proof enough to me. Thanks for spilling the details now though- it means I don’t have to sit through your obnoxious meeting.”
Obnoxious? She has to realize how serious this is. She can see it right in front of her!
“Now- and I know this is a difficult ask for your little brain so you’ll have to bear with me- I presume you’ve figured out who’s most likely to be responsible for your missing ‘evidence?’ …you do realize it wasn’t me, right?”
Tempest didn’t like her, but he was in agreement. She was a lot of things, but a liar and a thief didn’t strike him as being among them. He knew what it was she was hinting out, but that wasn’t a possibility he was willing to entertain. He knew Celeste, and he knew she wasn’t a liar.
“Oh, don’t give me that blank expression, monk. I know there has to be some vestige of rational thought going on in there- Placeriates knows your head’s big enough. Don’t be so overwhelmed by your subadult hormones that you overlook the obvious: one person’s story tonight hasn’t been quite adding up, has it?”
Tempest narrowed his eyes and Asha lifted her claws in a mock display of surrender. She offered a self-assured smirk and turned back to her patient with a dismissive flick of the tail.
“You don’t have to believe me,” she continued, though she didn’t look back at him. “And it’s not as though you’ve got anymore time to investigate. You’re up in only a few more minutes, so I hope you’ve prepared some sort of speech; considering both your lack of evidence and- do correct me if I’m mistaken- complete lack or oratorial ability.” Tempest didn’t say anything. His mind was a tempest of its own, thoughts and emotions swirling in a violent dance in his head; was Asha right about her suspicion? How could Celeste betray him? Why would she? She wouldn’t!
Would she?
“From your silence, I’m going to take that as an affirmation. For what little worth it is, I believe you." She chuckled to herself. "Not that that’ll save you from the rest of them.”