There was nothing left in that place, except stone benches that couldn’t be transported. Or statues not immune to the passage of time. There was neither a single book, nor one of the stones of light that should be illuminating those rooms. Maybe they had taken everything when they had fled the city. Or maybe it had been previously looted. Or maybe it had happened later.
They checked over the entire plant before going up, making sure that no danger was left behind, and placing some alarms just in case, impossible to detect unless triggered. Finally, they took the stairs, to meet a similar scene. There were other statues, other benches, other empty shelves dug in the wall, and others that no longer existed.
They verified that the exterior was also surrounded by amphibians, and that the thick walls could resist their advance, as well as that the magic that had been protecting the large main gates still remained active. It was flowing from a kind of tube that was in the center, which went up from the bottom floor and continued to the top.
“There are blood stains at the southeast entrance. And some on the stairs to the third floor,” a level 43 man-mole notified.
They nodded and prepared to go up.
Eldi stayed behind while his teammates advanced. They had triggered some alarms, which meant they had been detected. They didn’t know if they would be hostile, they hoped they wouldn’t be, but they were clear that it was better not to let them see the human yet.
There weren’t many more blood stains, but the existing ones seemed to heading to a room like the ones they had found on the other floors, in which they could defend themselves if the toads managed to enter.
A woman-mole hit the ground while everyone was waiting in silence, a wait that longed for almost ten seconds and became eternal. They didn’t want to risk a fratricidal fight, so they breathed in relief upon hearing the vibrations from the ground, the somewhat distrustful response of those inside.
There was a short exchange of messages before a door opened and a mole-man with a dirty and torn armor appeared, one of lower quality than their own. His appearance was no better than the armor. He looked tired and bruised, but he struggled to maintain his dignity.
Having left the weapons, Fita stepped forward and extended her palms, which the man-mole received with his own. It is the ceremonial greeting of the mole-people, a sign of peace. Then, they exchanged a few words and Fita turned quickly.
“Luta, Fato, Mita, come, there are people injured. Bring potions. A couple, go for water and food.”
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Tica and another young man, who was trying unsuccessfully for the girl to notice him, went down the stairs for Eldi to give them some provisions, and they took them to the room. There were ten warriors-mole, in addition to Fita and the three healers.
They distributed water and food among the five who could stand. The others were badly injured, since they hadn’t been able to heal them during their confinement. They had exhausted the treatments, and their healer was one of those who were unconscious. Their levels were between 41 and 46, and they had been trapped there for 15 days, so now they were almost without provisions. They had been cornered, and half of them had ended up badly injured.
They were surprised at the effectiveness and quantity of the potions they were given. They had remedies made with some of the same ingredients, but cruder and less effective. And they were quietly admiring the striking armors worn by their brothers, of better quality than any of their people could craft.
“They’ll recover, but we have almost exhausted our power,” Mita assured them. “Fita, it would be good if Eldi came.”
“Eldi?” Asked Guto, the oldest veteran standing and, therefore, the one who had met Fita at first.
She hadn’t wanted to call him at the beginning. She knew that her brothers were distrustful, that their respective people hadn’t met for a long time, and that the battlefield wasn’t the most auspicious place for a meeting. They couldn’t know if their intentions were really peaceful, if they could want something from them, as information of what they might have found, or of their own people or cities. But, given the need, they had been forced to accept the aid without conditions.
For all these reasons, Eldi’s presence could increase distrust, so they had preferred to hide him for the moment. After all, they had had a hard time accepting him at first. However, his skills were needed.
“With us, comes one of those who walks under the sky, and is also a visitor. He isn’t dangerous, he’s a good person. He can help us with the injured, if you allow it,” explained Fita.
“An outsider?! Are you crazy?!” Guto exclaimed.
Everyone looked at the man-mole, surprised and worried, for they hadn’t heard the conversation.
“We also thought the same thing at the beginning, but he saved some brothers who had had to flee to the surface. And he has helped us a lot…” defended the woman-mole, reluctant to talk about crafting. “I don’t ask you to accept him, only to let him help.”
“So much you have changed in this time? Now you relate to them? Don’t you know how dangerous they are!?”
“He has been the only one,” Fita protested. “And…”
She doubted. It was a secret that she didn’t know whether to reveal. The struggle for craft platforms had been hard in the war, and it was obvious that they had also lost that knowledge, as their weapons and armor were in sight. But they also had to get out of there as soon as possible, and, for that, they needed the wounded to recover completely. They needed the human to accelerate the process.
She sighed.
“He helped us to recover the knowledge of magical crafting. Without him, we wouldn’t have these potions or these armors.”
Guto was silent for a moment, too stunned to speak. That was a knowledge that their people had long been trying to recover. Finally, he spoke, insecure and stuttering.
“And ... cou ... could he teach us ... too? Are you su ... sure he isn’t dan... dangerous?”
Fita sighed in relief.
“He is totally trustworthy,” she said. “But for him to teach you, you will have to ask him.”