PW Chapter 277: Aftermath of a Battle (Patreon)

After having spent so long able to sprint around unimpeded, it was a sobering reminder of her own mortality to be entirely incapable of going faster than a stumbling limp. Astrid was fully capable of continuing that pace, especially as her leg improved, but running was out of the question for the immediate future. Only as she started walking back did Astrid realize that Felix must have shown up at some point while Pauline was dying or had barely passed. He walked alongside Muti, though they didn’t talk with each other as they went.

Despite having been healed again and again, he wasn’t looking good. His face was pale and his own blood covered basically every surface of his armor, but he moved more easily than Astrid did. When he and Muti offered to take the body, she denied their offers, so all three made their unsteady way back towards the town.

With two Adamantium tiers, each one extremely well-suited for dealing with large numbers, the fight was over. There were plenty of enemies who remained conscious and capable of fighting, but they couldn’t make it far. Instead, an ever-growing verdant prison kept them all constrained. Plenty of mana remained swirling through the air, and Astrid wondered what kind of steps the defenders were taking to keep all of the enemies trapped, plenty of possibilities swirling through her head. A secondary effect of being forced to travel so slowly was how much extra time she had to be lost in thought. She didn’t want to talk, and was grateful that neither of her friends were feeling inclined to try to force her to say anything, especially as her mind wandered to the woman in her arms.

As they walked past the prison, encountering the people who had fought near the Wanderers’ battleground, Benedict hopped off of the wall, his flute in his hands.

Astrid opened her mouth, ready to make a demand as to where he’d been, but she was intelligent enough to see the unsteadiness to his stance as he landed on the ground. Even so, with steps looking nearly as wavering as her own, he walked forward to her. His eyes looked her up and down, worried, then he saw the body of the woman she carried.

“What happened?” he asked as he continued to play his flute. Song of Conquest was the only Skill he used, and Astrid could feel her body recovering now that she was close enough to benefit from it.

“I was rescued by Pauline,” Astrid said, her tone flat. “She managed to help me escape, and when Greely caught up, the enemies ran away. She died from  her wounds.”

Benedict’s face, like Felix, was already pale, and blue veins stretched up under the collar of his duster towards his face. Hearing that news, he blanched and shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t… I was already out of mana from keeping Inspiring Song going on all of you at the same time. There’s a heavy cost of mana for each casting… It was everything I could do to keep you all buffed with it and Liberation and…”

Possibly more than ever before, Astrid was grateful for the lessons she had learned in controlling her temper and her tongue. Benedict’s Inspiring Song was a burst Skill, and while its effect were less powerful than other burst Skills, the Skill was an amazing boon to have. The exchange for its relative weakness was being able to be used on others, and even multiple people at a time. He’d used it on all three of his party members on the battlefield. Every minute, at the absolute longest, that alone would take his entire mana reserves. On top of that, he maintained Song of Victory and Voice of Liberation while continuing to supply Astrid, Muti, and Felix with a 60% increase to every attribute.

“Your help let us win that first fight,” Astrid smiled. The movement was painful to make as she held the body of a woman who had died for her, but she had to smile, remembering that, despite her initial anger, Benedict had done everything he could, and was still trying to heal her as best as he could. His help was largely invisible, but still immensely valuable.

Silence once again settled over the Wanderers as Astrid grew closer to the wall. A burst of chatter went across all of the defenders, and Astrid couldn’t bring herself to care what they were saying. When she arrived at the gate, she grumbled, realizing that she couldn’t so easily jump over the ten meter wall in her current state. She especially didn’t want to do so while holding Pauline’s corpse.

Instead, she looked at the impediment to her continued path and wondered aloud, “Is there anyone on the gates right now? Or do we need to just wait out here?”

There was no time to get an answer, because the gate started to creak in response. When she looked at it, she realized that the portcullis she hadn’t paid much attention to was actually living roots, courtesy of Greely, she was sure. As the roots crawled back into the ground, the gate behind that shifted and swung open.

A dozen people sprinted out, the adults’ movements quick but nothing that a low Steel tier couldn’t do while the children behind them came as fast as their Classless legs could carry them. Astrid didn’t have time to wonder who they were as they all rushed to Pauline.

“Mom? Is Grannie okay?”

“Grannie? Why isn’t Grannie talking? She isn’t…”

“Arwen,” a man snapped. He had a touch of silver in the black hair at his temples and threw his goatee. The woman beside him, his wife or sister, understood what he was saying, and gathered the three children into her arms, whispering words that Astrid couldn’t bear to force herself to listen to. With that done, the man stepped forward towards Astrid as several other adults followed along.

“Thank you for bringing my mother back,” he said. His voice was steady, but there was a sheen of tears on the bottom of his eyes.

“You’re her family?” Astrid confirmed, feeling stupid as soon as she asked.

“A small part of it,” he nodded, forcing a smile onto his face. “There’s too many of us to count. My sister Arwen was living in the capital at the time of the revolution and escaped with Mother, and the rest of us are scattered all over. She wanted to keep us all out of the war, but, you know. If the rest of my siblings are alive, who knows… I’m sorry. Would you please give me my mother’s body?”

He caught himself rambling and stretched his arms out to take Pauline. Astrid didn’t hesitate to turn her over, but before he could go anywhere, she cleared her throat as best as she could, and got his attention.

“She said that I should tell you she saw you all in our faces before she died.”

He chuckled, a line of tears starting to pour down his face at that. “She would. After all, all of her children were little adoptees she decided to protect. Why would you be any different?”

Astrid felt her own throat swell closed as he turned back towards her, adjusted Pauline’s corpse, and said, “Well met, Sister. I’ll make sure to get to know you better before too long. Of course, make sure you come to the funeral. I’ll be in contact.”

Then, the man whose name Astrid still didn’t know, but had declared himself her brother, walked away and she felt her heart twist deeper in her chest. Still, she took a steadying breath and walked into the city.

“Where’s Skandr?” Astrid asked Benedict.

“He nearly took himself out with that second attack,” he explained. “He’s resting in that building over there. I’m going to stay out here, help people however much I can.”

The Bard didn’t say anything more, slowly making his way up onto the wall where he resumed playing his flute.

Astrid started to open her mouth, to say something about how he had obviously taken too many potions to try to continue to use his mana to heal people, but couldn’t bring herself to actually say it. Instead, she watched as he walked away and then made her way towards the room he had indicated. It was a relatively nice home, and had obviously been requisitioned for a sort of field hospital. Walking through the door into the family room, Astrid saw a dozen cots laid out, and lying in one on the opposite side of the room was a figure wearing a familiar robe.

Drawing close, Astrid could see that, where Felix and Benedict were pale, Skandr was completely white. His complexion had never been as pale as Benedict’s, but he could have passed for a sheet of paper now. He took shallow, slow breaths, his face twisted in pain. His eyes were screwed closed, and his lips continuously moved as if he were chanting a spell.

“What?”

The word wasn’t unkind from his mouth, but it would appear that he couldn’t muster much more energy than that. Evidently, he’d felt her approach somehow. When she came closer, Astrid saw that Skandr’s eye flicked open. Seeing her, his lips stopped their silent mantra and his mouth opened.

“You’re alive! You’re here. Oh, thank the Duchess. Praise whatever is holy.”

His eyebrows relaxed as he looked at her.

“I’m the one who got stabbed,” Astrid joked as she came close and, seeing no chairs nearby, decided to just sit on the ground. “What’s your excuse?”

“Spells,” he muttered, trying to sound bitter. He couldn’t manage it when he looked at her, though. He continued to try to speak, but had to pause frequently through breaths that seemed to pain him. “I was fine after that first lightning bolt, but with less prep time, it took a lot more of my health and stamina to send that second attack. It didn’t even do anything either. Total waste… Need to do better research.”

Astrid nodded slowly, remembering the bolt of lightning that Skandr had sent at Gregor as soon as he appeared. “That was more than I managed to do to him.”

“I guess everybody telling us that he was the one to stay away from had a reason,” Skandr chuckled weakly. “How did you get away? I lost all sight after my second attack. I just saw him destroy it, then I passed out.”

“Pauline and Greely came and bailed me out,” Astrid said, deciding not to get into the details quite yet. “I’ll tell you more later, but for now, I think you need to sleep.”

“Having no mana or stamina and such low health isn’t a good feeling,” Skandr agreed as his eyes fluttered closed. He mumbled something incoherent after that, losing consciousness.

Astrid sat there as she watched her unconscious friend. His complexion wasn’t improving particularly quickly, but his breathing did relax ever so slightly while he remained unconscious. She wished nothing more than to have another charge of Regeneration, to be able to get him back to a point where he could at least sleep peacefully, but there was still another half an hour at least before she got her charges back.

Instead, she groaned and leaned against the wall. There were plenty of people in the room, all of them stabilized, but none particularly comfortable. A part of Astrid wanted to get out, to find some escape from the suffering, but instead, she stayed in the room, listening to the results of a battle fought. The people in here were the winners, those who had survived, but she could see some whose arms had been ripped off, others whose eyes were unseeing, and worse still, those whose faces were slack from shock or something worse.

For what felt like hours, Astrid sat there in that room, slipping into half consciousness as healers came in and out. She knew it wasn’t that long, because when she felt the first charge of Regeneration return, she stood, placed a hand on Skandr, and included him as well as one other in the effect. At that point, she was largely healed already, but the burst of healing from Regeneration brought her back to perfect condition. It was almost insulting that she could spare it now when Pauline had died while Astrid was useless, but Astrid didn’t think any further about it. She felt small wounds pass to her from the other survivor, though the weeping burn wounds all over his body must have been agonizing.

Instead, she felt what might be called a strong sunburn before it faded. That pain was trivial compared to the exhaustion that came to her from Skandr. She had listened when he said that he’d put everything on the line for that second attack, but feeling it was something completely different. For an instant, her vision tunneled, her stomach twisted, and her legs went weak. Then, she was fine again, and Skandr shifted from uncomfortable panting to easy sleep.

Astrid quickly moved on through the hospital, looking for a Healer or someone who knew better than her. She cursed her own weakness, that she hadn’t gone off to do this already. Before long, she found someone who appeared to be a Doctor and asked where she needed to go.

“What are you capable of?” he answered. “The better we understand your limits, the better we can ensure that you are doing the most you are capable of. Can you restore limbs? Assist with minor wounds? Give comfort? Cleanse negative effects? Cure poisoning?”

He looked fully willing to continue on with his list of possible capabilities, but Astrid lifted a hand to forcefully stall any further barrage. “Physical healing, mostly. If somebody is also struggling from mana or stamina exhaustion, that will also be fixed along with the healing. I can only get six more people, though. I don’t think it does anything to negative effects or anything, and with restoring limbs? Maybe. Have me try them with my first attempt.”

“Then is your Skill primarily a battlefield stabilization Skill?” he pressed. “If it is, then I suspect you will not be able to do as much good as you would like. You’re welcome to try—”

“Show me somebody who needs help, one of them with a missing limb,” Astrid cut him off. “Ideally, if one of them has a lower Fortitude, especially the one who I’m trying to get an arm back for, that’s better. Judge me and what I can do for you at that point.”

He leveled the gaze at her, nodded once, then gestured for her to follow him to a separate building. “Don’t try to do anything you are incapable of, some people cause more trouble than help because they are trying to show off. I trust you, but know your limits.”

Astrid didn’t say anything as they made their way into the next building. There, the Doctor snapped off a few orders to people nearby, and they followed them immediately. Evidently, he was in charge of more than just a single building, and Astrid couldn’t bring herself to blame him for his brusque treatment. If he was in charge of keeping everybody alive around here, that would be one of the most stressful things she could think of.

He walked her around the corner, where she saw that Skandr had been in the building of people who would definitely hold on. Here, on the left there were a handful of people who all had black saliva coming from the corner of their mouths from an Assassin or poisoning of some sort, then on the right side of the room were people who had wounds that seemed to resist treatment. A handful of double or triple amputees that constantly oozed blood moaned in the corner, and Astrid found herself slowing her steps.

“Here,” the Doctor said, pointing at someone whose entire body was covered with second- and third-degree burns as well as another who had lost their left arm between the shoulder and the elbow. “You said both at the same time, didn’t you?”

Astrid nodded before verifying, “Are either of these people Mithril tier?”

“No.”

She noted, swallowing before stretching her hands out and using a charge of Regeneration. To her surprise, the pain from the missing arm was significantly lower than that from the burns. A ring of burning pain around her left arm on her bicep appeared, her blood slicking down her arm for a split second before disappearing. It hadn’t even gotten all the way through the muscle. The burn victim, however, obviously had a much higher Fortitude. For a terrifying second, Astrid felt her eyes wither, just like when she’d been blinded by fire. Then, both eyes returned to usual as her entire body burned, as if she had been dipped into a boiling bath.

Again, the pain was momentary before her Skill was finished, and Astrid looked at the two people she had helped. The burn victim’s skin was largely healed, though several of the most severe burns, where the flame had reached nearly to the bone, were covered with shiny scar tissue. With a catch in her breath, Astrid returned towards the woman who had lost her arm. Her heart sank as she saw that, instead of a tightly bound and toned wound, she didn’t see a full arm. At least the woman’s panicked thrashing had faded as she glanced down at the wound.

“Effective on burns, not on amputation,” the Doctor noted as he turned his attention to the amputee. “Is there any pain in the wound?”

“Yes, but it feels much better,” she answered.

The Doctor briefly touched the side of her arm, his eyes glazing over as his Skill provided some measure of information to him. He pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. “Curious.”

He didn’t say anything else as he started taking off the wrapping and investigating the arm. On the stump, halfway through the woman’s bicep, was clean scar tissue, as if it had been allowed to heal for months or years.

“That is a very unique Skill you have,” the man said, looking up at Astrid. He turned his attention to the burn victim, probing at the scars. “In terms of recovery from damage, you will be best equipped to deal with people experiencing whole-body devastating but not crippling damage. How frequently can you use the Skill?”

“Four times an hour,” Astrid answered, realizing that, according to delver protocol, she absolutely shouldn’t share that information. The rest of her kicked that thought away, wanting to be able to help as many people as possible. If she gave a damn that the Doctor would use that information to help more people, then she could never consider herself to be anything approaching a hero.

“And you have two more now,” he nodded. “Come with me. There are other people who need your help.”