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In Their Wake

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My mouth was dry.

The thirst wasn’t very strong or remarkable in any way, really. It just happened to be the first thing I felt when I returned to consciousness.

My vision came back in slow fragments, starting at the peripherals. I saw a simple wooden chair and desk. Atop it were several bloodied bandages and strange metal implements. All around me, several other people laid on beds similar to the one I was on, bearing all manner of injuries.

I felt confusion and no small amount of panic start to swell in me as I realized that I’d just woken up in an infirmary. But why was I…?

Abruptly, before I could even finish thinking, the why came back to me. Memories of the battle, the legion, Vault’s plan, and the orc chieftain, all came to the forefront of my mind. I sighed, feeling myself unconsciously relax. “Ah. Makes sense,” I mumbled, my voice hoarse.

“Does it really?” Someone asked, so suddenly that I started, nearly jumping out of my skin.

I turned my bleary eyes and caught sight of an older man, dressed in a black apron over a red shirt and wearing gloves. His skin was tanned, and his black hair was graying, giving it a ‘salt and pepper’ coloration. His weathered eyes, beneath silvered brows, were a light gray almost like my own. Despite his somewhat stern expression, something about his presence felt somehow reassuring. “Most people who end up in places like this usually lead with ‘Where am I?’ Or sometimes even ‘Who am I?’” The surgeon said, as he finished gently wrapping a bandage around a woman’s side.

I shrugged, feeling a little sheepish. “Ah, well… I guess it’s not really that hard to put together.” Slowly, I began to lift myself off the bed. I couldn’t help but be surprised by how much it didn’t hurt. I mean, yeah, the pain was still there, but my body didn’t feel like it was a mass of injuries anymore. Rather, the sensation was soft and constant, like the heavy soreness one would get after a day of hard exercise. Either way, however, simply sitting up was still an ordeal in and of itself.

The surgeon frowned, but allowed me to sit up, carefully watching me with his arms folded. “So, everything’s alright upstairs, then? You remember your name, age, hometown? All of that?”

I nodded.

He gave a non-committal hum as he approached and examined me, almost as if he was searching for something. I couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable. “Ansel Eschenwald, is it?”

“Yeah,” I nodded again. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you, Herr...”

“Lewis.”

“Herr Lewis. Well, erm, thanks for taking care of me,” I said, slightly bowing my head.

“Don’t mention it. Just doing my job.” Lewis removed his gloves and washed his hands at a nearby basin. After a few moments, he finally said, “I’ll have to be honest; I wasn’t expecting you to come to quite this soon. If at all.”

I frowned and quirked an eyebrow, curious. “No? Why not?”

He hummed again, monotone, and dried his hands. “Well, when they dragged you in here, you were pretty much half-dead, son. Aside from all the blood loss—which could have killed you in and of itself—you suffered two wounds to your head.” He motioned with one hand to the back of his own head and his forehead, prompting me to touch those areas too. “That is to say, your skull was fractured both in front and back.”

Sure enough, my fingers felt a bit of soft scar tissue right above my brow, roughly in the same spot I’d slammed onto Edd’s sword.

...Man, now that I actually thought about it, that was a pretty reckless move on my part. What had I even been thinking? If I’d been too slow, or not used enough force there, I probably would have failed to kill the orc.

Lewis continued. “All that said and done, even with magical healing, it’s only been five days. I’m not sure whether to be impressed or concerned.”

“I…” I stopped my train of thought as his words registered in my head. “Wait, hold on? Five days? Whaddaya mean Five days?”

“That’s how long you’ve been out of it,” Lewis said. He then glanced to the side, as if in thought. “Though, it’s only near noon now… So you could argue it’s only been four and a half.”

“Gods…” I leaned back on my cot, feeling myself deflate a bit. “That… that’s a lot.”

“Uh-uh,” Lewis grunted, firmly shaking his head. “I’d argue the exact opposite, especially given your condition. I’ve seen folks with much milder wounds stay in comas for months, sometimes even years. Some never even wake at all. So if anything, I’d say your return is very much premature.”

Lewis then stepped towards a different, clean basin, and filled a mug from it before offering it to me. I took it on both hands with a quiet thanks and took a deep drink. I knew it was just simple, cool water, but to my dry tongue, it felt like the most delicious drink in the world. I ended up emptying the entire mug within a few seconds.

Lewis rolled his shoulders and heaved out a quiet breath.“I suppose that friend of yours must be some sort of medical prodigy. Sure could have used a bit more of his help in here.”

I eyed him. “Friend? Who do you mean?”

“A mage from the Hounds. Short, brown hair, spectacles. Boy came in just after they brought you in here, and just worked his magic.”

“Ah, Keane!” I let out a relieved sigh and smiled. “So he’s okay? What about the others? How many… Are the townspeople okay?”

Lewis folded his arms and shook his head once more. “I’d worry more about yourself, master Eschenwald. But if you really must know, Halem will heal. Fortunately, not many of the local folk died. And those that did have already been laid to rest. The Hounds didn’t suffer much in the way of casualties either, but…” He trailed off and simply looked at me, as if he were mulling his next words in his mind.

My heart fell. His hesitation told me everything that needed to be said. But still, I swallowed through a strange lump in my throat, and made myself ask; “What… What about the Alliance?”

Lewis met my gaze evenly, schooling any semblance of emotion from his expression as his lips parted to speak.

“Our detachment was all but wiped out.”

The answer came not from the surgeon, but from someone else in the infirmary. A voice that was familiar to me. A woman’s voice.

Unbidden, my feet began moving towards her, somehow completely ignoring the soreness that flared up. There, lying on another cot, was someone my mind recognized within moments. Vera, my unit’s serjeant, some far-off memory provided. Her hazel eyes were weary, bloodshot, and underlined with heavy dark bags. Her purple hair was disheveled, falling loosely down her neck. She was a relatively tall woman, and I vaguely recalled that she matched my own height whilst standing.

Her body was covered liberally with bandages, dark bruises peeking out from underneath them, and one of her arms was secured in a sling. Despite her injuries, she sat up and greeted me with a nod. “You’re looking better there, Ansel.”

“T-thank you…” I shakily nodded, licking my suddenly dry lips. After a few more moments of silence, I managed to ask, “So… everyone else…?”

She nodded and repeated herself. “Like I said, we were all but wiped out. By my count only thirty-odd of the Alliance’s soldiers are still alive.”

Even though I knew it was coming, to actually hear the fact felt like a punch to the stomach.

“W-where are they?” I found myself asking. “The other survivors, I mean.”

Her response was a vague gesture all around the infirmary. “The injured are here with us. The others are probably milling around town right now, I suppose.”

I looked around us, really focusing on the people I’d spotted earlier. Sure enough, I started recognizing some faces, men and women who’d come with us from Ken. Some were awake, looking back at me with curious expressions, while the vast majority were still either asleep or unconscious.

“I know,” Vera said with a nod. “It’s not exactly a promising sight. And to top it off, we lost lady Miriam.”

My mind suddenly flashed with the image of a tall knight, clad in armor. I’d seen her back then, on the day of the battle, leading a charge from atop her warhorse. “She… she’s dead, too?”

Vera started to shrug, but winced a little. I began to move towards her, but stopped when she waved me off. “I dunno. We never found her body. So it’s either that, or…” She trailed off, not needing to continue. I already caught the implication. She gestured with her chin towards an unconscious man at the far side of the infirmary.. “Biggs over there is the only other serjeant who pulled through, and he’s still out of it, so… By virtue of the chain of command, I’m more or less the acting commander now.” She gave me a humorless smile. “Guess you gotta start calling me ma’am from now on, huh?”

Gods… To think that of a detachment of two-hundred soldiers, less than a quarter had survived. And we lost our commander on top of that…

I knew better than to blame myself for it, to pretend that this was somehow my fault. Not only was it a completely irrational line of thought, the sheer egoism to think that I alone could have somehow changed this would be an insult to my comrades.

...But still, I…

I heard Vera sigh, drawing my gaze back to her. “Listen, Eschenwald, this is gonna sound really insensitive, but…” Her eyes hardened as they met mine. “Whatever it is you’re thinking about—Stop.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “it’s only natural to mourn dead comrades, but you can’t let yourself stay on them forever. If you dwell on the dead, on all those who came before you… You’ll regret it. And if you start regretting, you’ll lose your edge and focus. How’re you gonna think about tomorrow, then? You gotta live for the living, after all, you know?” Her tone carried a hint of levity that didn’t match her expression in the slightest. Vera’s gaze slid past me, and her eyes grew distant.

Slowly, I nodded, and then opened my mouth to say… something. Anything, really. I struggled to find the proper words. In the end, I finally said, “I’m sorry.”

She turned back to me, her expression now confused. “Huh? Sorry for what?”

“I dunno,” I said with a shrug. “It just… it felt like the right thing to say.”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

We remained in silence for a few minutes, before Vera spoke up again with a new subject. “Vault offered us membership into the Hounds, you know.”

My eyes snapped back onto her so fast it almost made me dizzy. “Huh?!”

She laughed at whatever bewildered expression I’d likely made. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I said, too! Apparently, they’re wanting to replenish their losses after the battle, so they’re just extending an open invitation to anyone who wants in. It’s… not a bad deal, really. About the same pay as the army, except with pretty much no strings to it. No convoluted rules and regulations, or anything like that.” She paused for a moment, as if in thought, before nodding to herself. “I’d expect more than half our survivors will take ‘em up on it.”

“Wha-?” I sputtered, almost choking on nothing. “But we’re soldiers! Is that even allowed, Ve… Ma’am?”

“Blech!” Vera made an exaggerated gagging sound, along with a matching grimace. “‘Ma’am’? Ugh, I changed my mind,” she said, sticking her tongue out as if in disgust. “If you’re gonna say it with that sort of dour tone, you might as well just stick to calling me ‘Vera.’”

“Oh, uh—Sorry?”

She rolled her eyes in response. “At any rate, I’m pretty sure that just up and leaving the army like that would technically count as desertion. But a free company like the Hounds pretty much has a blanket permission to draft whoever they like, whenever they want. It’s just about the grayest gray area you can imagine.

“And, well… Even if I wanted to, it’s not exactly like I can stop them. I mean, what am I gonna do? File a complaint against the Black Hounds?”

Yeah, I could see how that could be an issue. Given their contributions to the war, the Black Hounds simply commanded way too much respect for something so comparatively small to even stain their reputation. If she tried, Vera might even get reprimanded for stirring up trouble.

She sighed again, reclining back on her cot, and gazing at the ceiling. “Well, whether it’s with the Alliance or the Hounds, they’ll still be fighting the Legion. So I guess I can live with it.” Then she turned, facing me. “So, what about you?”

“Me?” I asked, pointing at myself. I immediately realized that it looked somewhat dumb, and lowered my hand. “What about me?”

“Well, I hear you’re a hero now, Ansel,” she said, smiling coyly. She leaned a bit closer, almost conspiratorial, and said, “Faced down a big bad aberrant all by yourself and saved the town, eh?”

“Ah, w-well… I just got lucky. Really lucky. Besides, I had a friend helping me out, too. I really couldn’t have done it without him.” I rubbed at my chin, feeling kind of embarrassed for some reason. “W-where’d you even hear that?”

Vera simply stared at me for a moment, looking surprised, before letting out a loud and hearty laugh, drawing a disapproving glare from Lewis. “Are you kidding? Practically everyone and their mother’s talking about it! Some say you beat a minotaur to death with your bare hands. Other folks are saying that you cut down a score of orcs in a single stroke with a broken knife. I even heard you headbutted a sword!”

I lifted a shaky hand, gingerly brushing the scar I’d gotten from that stunt. “I— Well, y’know. On the pommel, yeah. Not the pointy end. O-obviously.” I’m sure anyone else would be thrilled to know they have that kind of fame, but… man. For some reason, everything about this was really starting to make me feel self-conscious. The whole thing could just as easily have been summed up as ‘he stumbled around and nearly got killed a hundred times over, then snuck in a cheap shot.’

“The pommel?! You crazy sonuvabitch! Ahaha—! Ow, ow, ow! Hah!”

I gave Lewis an apologetic smile as her laughter redoubled. The surgeon’s glare now looked like it could have shattered a mountain. “H-hey, c’mon, it’s not that funny,” I mumbled.

But Vera just continued cackling and giggling in between winces, holding her sides.

Well, maybe it was a little funny, I thought, joining her with a few quiet chuckles.

After a few more minutes, she finally settled down, wiping away tears. “Oh my days, Ansel! With that sort of talk, anyone’d think you were Hal the Slayer come again!” And then she paused. The smile faded. Vera now looked at me intently, hazel eyes betraying absolutely no emotion whatsoever. I couldn’t help but recoil at the sudden change in her mood. “So… with that all said and done, I have no doubt that the Hounds will want you amongst their number,” she said. “What do you intend to do, Ansel?”

Oh.

It took me a moment to understand what exactly it was that she was asking, and the moment I did, it felt like the weight of the choice had just fallen on my shoulders. To remain with the Alliance, or join with the Black Hounds?

I didn’t need to think about it. Or, rather, I just didn’t want to.

“I—”

“Look, I hate to interrupt,” Lewis cut in, looking like he didn’t regret his interruption in the slightest. “But you two aren’t the only ones in here, you know. My other patients can’t exactly get their rest if you keep on making this type of racket.”

I stopped and looked around me. Indeed, every conscious person in the infirmary was staring right at us in several varying shades of “not amused.” I cringed and muttered an apology, feeling my face heat up something fierce. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “M-maybe we should just catch some rest, and, uh, talk about it later?”

The tension left Vera’s face as she chuckled and scratched at her cheek, almost looking bashful. “Chyeah, fair enough, I guess.” She then paused for a moment, looking between me and Lewis, and then grinned. “Say, Lou,” she waved at the surgeon, “think you can let Ansel out for some fresh air?”

Lewis lifted a damp cloth from someone’s forehead and fixed Vera with another stern glare. “Number one,” he said, “don’t call me that. Number two; no. He just woke up not ten minutes ago. There’s no telling whether he’s got all his faculties back yet. For all we know, he could still be concussed from severe self-imposed blunt force trauma.” He directed his glare towards me while saying that last part.

I looked down and silently started counting the wooden planks on the floor.

“Really?” Vera asked. “But he looks alright to me. And like you said, the Hounds’ mage healed him, didn’t he?” She turned back to me, extending her index, middle, and ring fingers. “Say, Ansel, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Um, three.”

“Yep! There ya go, Lou!” Vera said with a triumphant grin, as if she’d just solved some sort of grand mystery. “Discharge the poor guy already, would ya? Don’t force me to order Halem’s new hero to go take a walk. I am his commanding officer. You know I could really do that.”

Lewis palmed his face and heaved a long sigh. He then approached and grabbed my face, examining my eyes. I guess that he must have been satisfied with what he saw, as he released me and said, “I suppose you’re free to leave if you want, master Eschenwald. If you start to feel unwell, come back here immediately. Or at least try to pass out somewhere people’ll notice and drag you back.”

I hesitated, turning back to Vera. “Vera, about—”

She shook her head and waved me off. “Don’t worry about it, just get going. Go on, stretch your legs, catch some sunlight.”

“But—”

Vera groaned and pointed at her injured arm. “But what? I’m wounded here too, y’know. Gotta get some rest if I wanna heal up and be walking about like you, Ansel,” she said with a playful smile and wink.

I had a million things I wanted to ask her, but that was a clear dismissal if I’d ever seen one. So I relented and stood up. “Alright if you say so. Please get well soon, everyone,” I said, nodding to my comrades, before making my way towards the door.

Just before I exited, Lewis added, “and please, for the love of the Goddess, don’t smash your head against any more hard objects.”

I cringed a bit more at that comment, and Vera’s ensuing chuckles followed me all the way out of the infirmary. Once I was outside, I just walked forward, not really going anywhere in particular, and took in the sights.

A cool breeze blew through Halem, easing the summer’s heat. The sun shone brightly, with a few scattered clouds decorating the sky. I could even smell the rich, fresh scent of the grass around town. It was… strange, seeing people happily going about their days, despite everything that had happened. Merchants and tradesfolk peddled their wares, while a few people were at work repairing some of the buildings that had been damaged. Others were simply lounging about, talking and laughing amongst each other.

It really was a beautiful day. To be honest, I never would have guessed that a brutal battle had taken place here just a few days prior.

I felt a smile tug at my lips. I guess this town really had a strong spirit.

I guess I must have been a bit too absorbed in my observations, as I somehow managed to walk right into someone. “Whoa! Sorry!”

The man I bumped into let out an annoyed grunt. “Watch where you’re…” He trailed off as he turned around and got a good look at me, eyes widening comically. “...Ansel?”

I stopped and looked him over, unsure if I’d ever met him. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, who wore his dark wiry hair in a knot, and had his face cleanly shaven, save for a goat-like tuft at his chin. But what really drew attention was how fat he was. He must have been at least twice as wide as I was, and I couldn’t really tell where his torso ended and his neck began. In hindsight, I did know one person who fit that description, though I’d never seen him out of armor. Either way, I took a stab in the dark. “You’re… Edd? Erm, that is, Fat Edd?”

His face split into a wide grin, proving me correct, as he laughed and let out a shout of “My lad!” Next thing I knew, Fat Edd had me hoisted over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

I struggled in his grip, floundering like a fish out of water. “Whoa, whoa, hey! What’re you doing?!”

“Celebrating!” He shouted and laughed some more in return, making so much of a racket that every eye started being drawn towards us. And, well, to me. Nearby civilians, mercenaries, and even the odd Alliance soldier all crowded around us and began applauding and cheering. For me. “Boys! Get some ale! Get some wine! Get the local hero a damn drink!”

“What?! W-wait, Edd! I just got out of the infirmary! I don’t even like drinking!”

Fat Edd paid no attention whatsoever to my protests, and carried me all the way over to a public house.

As I expected, receiving so much praise for what was more or less just a massive fluke was pretty embarrassing. Though, I have to admit… It was kind of nice too. I decided that if nothing else, I could at least be happy that this many people had managed to make it through.