Fate weaver’s convergence

Road to Krakow, day 6

 

The sound of rushing water overwhelmed most noise, struggle, or sign of smaller animal life. The only exception being the occasional bat chirping overhead, too close to be completely drowned out. The fire crackled in front of us, the smell of wood and burned hair; our kindling being the now dead wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing. It wasn't much to bother, but none of us could really sleep all the same. I found myself with my back to one of the remaining walls of the shack, clothed in my gambison as I held my buckler in my hands. I was mending its straps, still requiring maintenance from use even after Findlay gave it what modifications he could manage, making it far sturdier. My body suit was strung up next to the fire, drying still after washing the blood out of it. 

 

We should report it, regardless if it's dead already. It might be a concern for others in the area, especially this close to the road.

 

I fed a needle through the leather straps, glue, and tendon, holding the two torn sections together. Beryl and Vaughn were committing to their own upkeep. Beryl was still brushing her hair, loose bits of crushed leaves and small knots being her chief concern. It was a means for her to pass the time, grooming herself.

 

I joke with her about it but I should do the same. Like it or not, I have been neglectful.

 

My own hair lay low as I waited for sleep to take me, the feeling of my ponytail pressing against my head while I slept never allowing me to relax. I looked over at Vaughn, chewing away at a bowl of stew he’d reheated while Beryl and I washed separately. He wanted to eat last, crediting today's kill to us and saying we needed the food first. It must have been cold, but of anyone to complain, he was the least likely. He did this while staring at a piece of parchment, some loose layout of Brenton shown with numbers and outlined areas of the city. 

 

And this boy with his work… granted, I can’t very well judge, considering my own permanent work.

 

I found myself narrating my thoughts to Kiyomi, the strange exercise of ‘talking to myself’ grounded me. The only other thing I could do to pass the time in such a way was maintenance or attempting to play the guitar I’d packed. 

 

“Ouch– fsss.”

 

Beryl hissed, shifting slightly as she looked at her finger. 

 

“Darnit”

 

She swore under her breath, the words rarely passing her lips. She looked to her hand, shaking it for a moment before inspecting the webbing of one of her fingers.

 

Is she bleeding?

 

I stretched my tail out and laid the buckler across my lap, watching her wipe the blood With her robe. She grimaced, pulling out a small roll of cloth from her bag. 

 

“Why use bandages when you could heal it?”

 

I asked aloud, causing her to look up before continuing her work. 

 

“Smaller stuff like this? It's a waste of the mana, at least this far out from a town. That, and I can't get used to having him take care of it.”

 

Vaughn paused his eating, spoon halfway from the bowl to his mouth while his cheeks remained puffed with food. He looked up to either of us like a deer caught in headlights before swallowing. 

 

“I'm not one to really know healing magics anyway. I can stop bleeding, but nothing past that.”

 

He wiped his face, shoving another spoonful into his mouth before tossing the bowl and spoon to the ground with the clatter of wood.

 

“I’m with Kiyomi on that one, why can't you self heal. What was it, a thorn? Shouldn't really leave a scar, aye?”

 

Vaughn asked, folding the paper to the side whilst kicking his bootless feet out towards the fire.

 

“And were I to find the same dirty habit as her?”

 

Beryl nodded in my direction before continuing. 

 

“I'm the only healer worth their spit in the group. You are a shield bearer, and you can distract the monsters or give us a boost. Kiyomi? She’s the heavy hitter, a Slayer. However, given her condition and your already varied interests, we can't really pass the role of healer around.”

 

Beryl looked down, tying off the bandage. 

 

“As much as we pick at each other, we have to acknowledge that overextending ourselves will do as much harm as good… and I doubt you need another thing on your plate.”

 

Beryl seemed to be having one of her honest moments, talking to Vaughn like she was our watchful big sister. For the most part, this self imposed role wasn't lost on us, but it was hard to imagine the pressure on her. Especially considering her age, soon to be considered fully autonomous as far as Brenton culture has concerned. 

 

“Should we look at other means?”

 

I asked, reclining back into the wall as I felt my body grow weary.

 

“Means for what?”

 

“For healing, anything. Medicine? Herbs? Or commissioning someone else to join us?”

 

I lowered my head back, looking to the stars. 

 

“It would give me peace of mind to at least know you have a means of care. I don't exactly know how to apply a tourniquet for a Lamia , or if you even could.”

 

I looked down with my eyes, Beryl's figure was blurred slightly but her yellow eyes betrayed her with their reflections of the fire as she looked down.

 

“We could look into it in Krakow, since we'll be there for a few days.--”

 

Beryl looked back at the fire.”

 

“All that aside, I've been thinking–”

 

“That's dangerous–”

 

Vaughn mumbled whilst Beryl spoke. He rolled to his side, narrowly missing Beryl's tail slamming where he'd just sat.

 

“Dangerous for you maybe, stupid friggin monkey.”

 

Beryl withdrew her tail.

 

“You and your broken rib, wasn't your fault, sure, but you're just as reckless as she is.”

 

The two bantered back and forth until Vaughn was inevitably stumbling to his feet to escape her tail.

 

“But really, you two haven't thought about it? The monster activity? The thing we fought today was supposed to be rare!”

 

Beryl crossed her arms.

 

“The guild has had whispers all over the place about monster activity. The wildlife has been vacating Morus and heading into the southern region of Damus.”

 

I crossed my arms as well, but less from the need to impose myself as much as I just did it to rest. I nodded, looking back to the sky, the stars escaping my sight one moment and coming to life the next with the passing clouds.

 

“We'll report the wolf-in-sheep’s clothing. Technically it was a B-class monster, regardless If we reported it or not we should definitely report it. It's best to play it safe, especially when not everyone has the mana break to block any contact.”

 

Vaughn was returning to his bedding, dropping to one knee and rolling to his side with a ‘whump.’

 

“By the way, those tendrils it shot out...”

 

Vaughn leaned against one arm, motioning to me with the other.

 

“What exactly were those?”

 

I looked up to him, then Beryl.

 

“Actually, I’m not sure. I'll have to look into it in Krakow.”

 

Beryl waved to me.

 

“Forget about that, what about the monster activity? Heck, you can't tell me you haven't had an ear to anything when you keep visiting the western guard quarters with Sir Stannis.”

 

Beryl seemed to question me as if she were trying to guide us to the conclusion. In a way to say that she somehow understood an answer neither Vaughn nor I could pin down.

 

I have to give her more credit, I keep trying to infantilize these two… 

 

“Think somethings up with Morus?”

 

I asked, the question seeming more off key considering I was already sure each of them held their own answer. Vaughn nodded before piping up.

 

“I'm not supposed to mention much of it, but–”

 

He sucked air through the side of his mouth as he paused. 

 

“There's worry about the Imperial army. Something about trouble between the nobles of this territory… Pa ranted about it once or twice, but in short, I'm supposed to pass off plans to share with Krakow on modernized defenses. Either that, or they're simply meant for the increased monster presence.”

 

He tossed a twig into the fire, then looked to Beryl.

 

“As much as anyone would suspect Morus? I don't think the constant shuffling in Brenton is over them.”

 

I kept silent, listening to the two, piecing together all of the rumors I'd heard. Putting one to one of anything I could cross reference.

 

The war is coming, but adding fuel to the fire with our own snooping probably won’t land us with better results. Best to let sleeping dogs lay, that's the best for these two. We’re adventurers, not soldiers–

 

I stopped the thought in its tracks.

 

No, best not to think of that.

---

Road to Krakow, day 7

 

“How many times does this make?”

 

Vaughn asked, the two stood next to each other and watched over their friend. She had slowly pushed her back against the shack's wall, its foundation creaking and leaning slightly as if she were sinking into it. Something that no doubt took quite a bit of her strength. They'd all stayed up late into the night, conversing yet she waited for them to fall asleep first. She never did so before them, like some unspoken need to guard their camp. It was concerning that unless she had physical contact with someone, this was the consistent result.

 

“At least a dozen now, but it's an improvement. We can count the blessing of her not having nightmares.”

 

Beryl sighed, looking down at Kiyomi. The girl slept sitting up, her chin sunken into her chest whilst her arms remained crossed. 

 

“It should be safe to wake her in this condition, wanna do the honors?”

 

Beryl asked, a hand outheld. Vaughn raised his own, backing away one step, then two.

 

“After you. I'm already in hot water with her.”

 

The lamia rolled her eyes. 

 

“Fine.”

 

She leaned in, placed a hand on Kiyomi’s shoulder, and proceeded to push against the blanket like gambison. 

 

“Hey, Kiyomi.”

 

Nothing, Kiyomi’s expression shifting slightly but settling as she grumbled.

 

“Mnnm.”

 

Beryl pushed once more, causing Kiyomi to jolt faintly, followed by a sharp inhale.

 

“Hnph– hmm?”

 

She shook her head whilst her tail stretched outward with a slight ‘pop’ from underneath her. 

 

“Mnnn, five more minutes.”

 

The two sighed with relief as they relaxed. 

 

“Kiyomi, we have a schedule to keep. We've already stayed too long. Camp is already packed away.

 

Beryl swayed, grabbing Kiyomi's tail and tugging gently. The impulse seemed to do the trick, Kiyomi scooting away from the wall in the direction Beryl pulled. 

 

“Nooo, wanna sleep.”

 

Beryl looked back up to Vaughn, receiving another shrug. Turning back to Kiyomi, she tugged with just enough force to outpower the gremlin’s shuffling.

 

“Ah, shit– I'm up- I'm up.”

 

Kiyomi grumbled, her arms coming apart as she rubbed at her eyes. Sleep lines had taken shape, showing she'd gotten the least of the group. 

 

“Maybe if you wouldn't stay up until the sun rose. You really should try to sleep earlier.”

 

Kiyomi nodded silently, rising to her feet. 

 

“Can we not handle any more of these assholes?”

 

She motioned to the now smoldering charcoal and ash of their last kill.

 

“Shit, my shoulder still feels weird.”

 

The idle complaints drew another wave of relief for Beryl and Vaughn.

 

“We'll try hunting for the viper vine. Let's take it easy for now though, let her wake up.”

 

Vaughn suggested, Beryl nodding in response as she moved to gather their friend’s things.