The scene behind Ichiro resolved into clarity before Tilly’s eyes and he found a much changed Lapin Village if you could even call it that anymore. The wooden palisade was gone and lines of buildings had been deconstructed to widen the road going towards the docks on the river and the valley outside the gate.
That valley had experienced an even greater transformation with the influx of new residents. All of the sparse forest leading to the base of the mountain far in the distance had been clear-cut. In its place was a huge milling camp of refugees, which was sprawled out around a square of timber longhouses as big again as the village itself.
“How long was I gone?” Tilly whispered with a hoarse voice, watching as the guards and other lapins attending to business in the village square began to point and exclaim excitedly with several running off as soon as they realized who had arrived. It seemed like the only one who had actually been expecting him was Ichiro.
“A little less than a week I would say, hard to keep track with all that we have going on. From all reports, your trip to the capital was quite eventful.” He said, a playful smile emerging under milky white eyes that still managed to dance with mirth.
“Eventful… sure let's call it that. Did everyone make it through alright?” Tilly asked tiredly, trying and failing to resist the leaden feeling that had returned to his limbs and now his eyelids as the events of the past two weeks caught up to him. His notification icon was going crazy and at a mental inquiry he found that he had gained another level sometime after the fighting. Sluggishly, he thought about pulling up the screen...
Ichiro said something else, but Tilly missed it completely, feeling pulled in too many directions for his addled mind to follow, “I'm sorry, can you say that again?”
Ichiro responded by pulling him up from the ground where he had collapsed without noticing, “Come friend, I made sure your place was kept ready for you. You must rest and eat.” Ichiro said, leading Tilly by the arm as he stumbled forward, the shock of adrenaline at having arrived back within the bounds of space/time had left him feeling drained and shaky. It was like emerging from a sensory deprivation chamber and then being given heavy medication. Everything was too loud and bright, yet at the same time draped in the cotton fuzziness of pure exhaustion.
The walk to his little one-room house was a blur. Now that the weight of hundreds of thousands of lives did not hang on his shoulders he felt utterly spent. Even the strange conversation with Origin had left him feeling as wrung as a dirty dish rag.
His eyes kept scanning those around him in the late afternoon light, dreading the appearance of a weapon, yet too tired to do something if attacked. Something about Ichiro's steady gait and firm guiding hand on his arm did more than help him through the crowd of onlookers. It slowly pulled him out of his fight-or-flight state, and he began to trust that he had found some respite from the near-constant danger that had marked his new life. Before he knew it, he was lying on the pallet bed he remembered so fondly. Ichiro said something else, but Tilly was already asleep and didn't hear the door close softly on the quiet room.
He slept deeply, his soul lighter than it had been in a long time as he dreamed of a hidden valley with a flower at its center and a song so sweet that it plucked away the few worries and cares that tried to burrow their way into his respite.
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What felt like weeks later, Tilly turned his head and nestled back into his blankets, but was started awake by an uncomfortably wet feeling against his cheek. He growled and lifted his head, squinting down at the offending patch of linen, and found it completely soaked in drool.
“Ugh…” He mumbled to himself, pushing up from the pallet and looking around. Nearby someone had set a huge container of water, and a tray of food, covered in different dishes. Tilly’s dry, cottony-feeling mouth watered and he stumbled over to the treasure trove of small ceramic bowls organized around a larger one heaped with rice. His stomach cramped as Maslow's hierarchy of needs demanded his attention one by one.
Tilly plopped down on the mat before the tray and mostly ignored the chopsticks in favor of pouring the contents of the assorted bowls down his throat and washing them down with huge swallows of water. All thoughts fled as Tilly entered into the almost meditative bliss of stuffing himself as fast as he could. Before he knew it, the tray was a mess of tipped-over dishes and spilled rice. He looked down at the mess he had just made slightly ashamed and thought briefly of trying to stack the bowls. But once again, his body made its demands known as his bladder pressed down angrily on his pelvis, and a sudden urgent need registered in his system. Ignoring these needs for days on end apparently did have some sort of consequence.
In fact, the feeling struck so powerfully that, for a moment, Tilly had to struggle to keep everything contained. He lurched to his feet, suddenly overwhelmed by a driving desire to find the little communal outhouse he had remembered from his last stay here.
He slid the front door open urgently and moved through, barely remembering to slide it closed behind him. Even at this hour, Tilly saw people moving with purpose up and down the street, each pursuing some task they thought was vital to the young city. He picked the direction that felt right and started moving down the small street. The village's transformation was unfolding all around him. Timber was laid in stacks everywhere and the sound of sawing and hammering was already ringing out through the morning. Though, it was difficult to find a rhyme or reason for how things were being designed. Some buildings seemed to be actually under construction, while others seemed to just be outlined with piles of resources left in the middle.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Each time he passed a Lapin, they bowed and smiled, as if they personally knew Tilly. Tilly tried to give each one a nod back, which painfully slowed his progress. It must have been the title at work because he had yet to see anyone he knew. None of the satyrs he passed or the few other races gave him anything but the typical, 'Was that a human?' double take Tilly had grown used to. Finally, he found the outhouse, marked by a rock-covered ditch flowing under the slightly elevated closet-sized building.
There were a few lapins in line when he got there, but they all stepped away as he arrived bowing as they did so.
“No guys, I can wait, I promise,” Tilly said, waving them back in line and dancing in place. None of them even looked up at his attempts, let alone responded. The door to the small shack opened, and another lapin emerged, hopping out of the way as he saw Tilly, and joining in the bowing. They all just stood there avoiding his eyes as they waited for him to take his turn.
“Alright, alright. I'll be quick!” He blurted in a higher than-necessary voice, extremely uncomfortable in the current situation. He nodded to each lapin on his way up to the door, feeling every bit like a fish out of water. As soon as he closed the door, however, he dropped all pretenses of control along with his pants. He had to bite back a groan of relief as he sat on the wooden seat, releasing the pressure sitting on his pelvis bidirectionally.
Once he was fully evacuated, he sighed in contentment. The last dregs of stress collected over the hellish week finally started to drain away as he took a moment to sit there and experience the sweet contented comfort of a full stomach and empty bowels.
Then, remembering the line of people waiting outside, he looked around the small room… and his anxiety immediately ratcheted back up to eleven. The only thing he could find in the dim shack was a cup of plain sticks of various sizes, he almost picked one up to investigate when the smell hit him and he gagged.
Never before had he felt so heavy a burden to deliver a people from such onerous bondage. He shuddered at the thought of how these sticks were used and experienced a pang of longing for his pile of Charmin leaves lying forgotten somewhere in this valley. Someone outside let out a cough, and Tilly looked around again in desperation, hoping against hope that something would just magically appear to rescue him in his moment of need-
Nope, just him and the shit sticks.
He churned his mind, squeezing every drop of inspiration he could from it.
Magic! Of course! He rifled through his fantasy fanny pack and found nothing that would work. Then he took another look at his sleeve.
His legendary, self-cleaning sleeve.
With a grimace, he reached back to do the dirty, dirty deed and felt the armor tighten unnaturally around his arm and shoulder, constricting his movements,
“Hey! I don't like this any more than you do! One of us has to take the hit and I can’t self-clean!” He said straining against the suddenly skin-tight jacket. It refused to budge and Tilly growled in frustration.
Then it hit him, Can’t self-clean. His mind flashed through a montage of moments when he had discovered new aspects of his powers;
His first enflamed strike.
Enflaming his fist to strike at a manifestation of Corruption.
Enflaming his finger to save Linus.
Wreathing his whole body in cascading blue flames that burnt away everything but his skin, hair, and armor.
Burnt away everything.
Tilly was shaken by the revelation and urgently focused on his sphincter, but this time in a way that agitated his mana into producing a portion of his power. He didn't need the entire Ability he had discovered in his final battle with Titus, just a small portion of it. The hot, but not unpleasant feeling of his own magically produced flame followed soon after, emerging in an extremely localized position on his body. After a few moments, a very particular smell filled the small room. Having been around fire most of his adult life, he had of course experienced the aroma of burning feces... But that didn't make it any less unpleasant.
Tilly held the flame there for five more seconds even as the normally moist orifice became painfully dry. Then he released it, having eliminated everything he could and hopefully having cleansed the area. He sighed deeply in relief, then immediately regretted it, letting out a hacking cough. He quickly pulled up his pants and banged the door open, hoping that nothing odd had been noticed by those waiting.
The line had grown twice as long as when he had entered, each lapin present looking elsewhere, studiously avoiding the small smoky shack. Tilly cleared his throat in deep discomfort and all but ran past the line back toward his refuge. He didn't know what he would do when he got there, but anywhere was better than the scene of his probable cultural crime. Besides he needed a place to sit and think for a few minutes. Once he was far enough down the road, he slowed his almost jog down to a normal pace. He almost jumped when a booming voice hit him from a distance, interrupting his squinting scan for the door to his room.
“Jonathan Tillman! It is good to see you awake!” Shuji’s greeting resounded down the street. Tilly turned further down the street and found Shuji emerging from the exact door he was looking for.
“Man, it is good to see you!” Tilly grunted, happy to be leaving behind his most recent ordeal. As he approached, Shuji rushed forward and encompassed Tilly in a warm embrace.
"I'm afraid I never got the chance to say thank you for your help that first night. I shudder to think what would have become of me if you had not intervened." He burbled, suddenly emotional.
"Shuji, you saved my life like three times in the capital... I should be thanking you!" Tilly answered in exasperation, as he clapped the large Librarian on the back.
The lapin released the hug and gestured for Tilly to go inside. Tilly complied, eager to finally get some answers. Shuji followed closely behind, sliding the door closed and settling to his knees easily on the mat floor. Tilly attempted to match Shuji's relaxed seated position but ended up in sitting like a kindergartener. The Librarian's tears were gone and he once again wore his cheerful smile, a mischievous look twinkling in his eyes. Tilly was starting to enjoy Shuji's constant positive outlook. Whatever crazy shit was going down, one guy in the room would always see the glass as half full.
But, after a few seconds, Tilly began to recognize the unmistakable signs of someone who had gone days, or even weeks with little to no sleep.