When I finally came back to the land of the living some hours later, I was glad to find myself both not dead, and bundled under a pile of blankets in the church's back room. A small fire had been lit in the kitchen, warming the stone building through and allowing me to enjoy some much-needed rest. I was in serious pain. My chest was still irritated. "Not again," I muttered aloud. My arm had been wrapped in a white cloth and tied to my neck. This was the second time since I met Cali that I had broken my arm in a fight, both against enemies who were much larger than I.
Still, I was thankful that I had managed to consume the dragon before passing out. I would have been furious if I'd have missed out on the chance. I pushed a few of the layers off of my body with my working arm and tried to cool down a little. I was starting to break out into a sweat. It was unlikely that anyone in the village had a healing potion for me to buy – so I would have to make do until we returned to the city.
"Stigma, are you here?"
"I'm always here, master." She appeared at the end of the bed. Her body mocked the act of sitting there, but there was no feeling of weight coming down on one side. "I have to say, I did not expect you to succeed in killing that dragon."
"Ye of little faith."
"I suppose I am," she concurred, "If you are wondering, you're now capable of living for nine years without worry."
"Nine…"
"Of course, I would always suggest that you keep that time in mind. It can go very quickly when you aren't paying attention."
She was right. Nine years sounded like a long time out of context – but that was my expected date of expiry. I wanted to last for a few more decades at least. If the opportunity presented itself, I would have to move on any chance to add some more souls to my collection. But first I wanted to take a break from the constant adventuring and relax for a few weeks. It was that thought that warded me away from checking my stats. My head was punishing me for my boundless hubris, the last thing I needed was a list of numbers to pick through.
I slipped out of bed and felt the cold seeping through whatever holes it could find. My clothes had been cleaned and folded neatly for me, though putting a shirt or jumper on with a broken arm didn't seem like something I could do.
"A little cold won't hurt master. You can survive [Frostbite] for several days, in fact."
"I'd rather not test that theory," I commented witheringly.
I heard a door slam and the pattering of boot covered feet. Just as I was intending to make a fool of myself and get out of bed with a serious injury. Sandra made a turn and headed straight into the room, still wearing her outside clothes. She came to a stop at the foot of the bed and squeaked in surprise.
"Oh! I didn't expect you to be awake so soon."
I reached up and poked the large bruise that had been left around one of my eyes; "Yeah. I'm tougher than I look."
She was visibly worried, so I leaned back onto the bed so she'd leave me alone. "You should make sure you get enough rest. To be truthful, I didn't believe you when you said you intended to slay the dragon. Now that I see this collection of horrible injuries, I cannot help but believe you were being honest from the start."
"I assume you heard it all the way over here?"
"Yes, me and some of the other villagers heard the entire thing. The explosion, those beastly roars, and then the way that everything suddenly went quiet…"
"I said I was going to kill a dragon, and we did. Though Cali was the one who gave it the final blow."
"The rest of the villagers thought you had died, but then they dragged you back here and back into the chapel. Some were doubtful that you succeeded. They think you ran away without defeating it."
"It doesn't matter – I didn't do this for recognition or payment. They can believe what they want to believe. Now that it's done we'll be on our way."
Sandra frowned, "It doesn't feel right to let you go without some kind of reward."
I laughed, "Trust me. Whatever you have, I don't need."
I never thought I'd get into a position to reject payment for anything. It was unlikely that anyone within the village wanted to give me anything. The dragon had prevented them from producing the marble and stone that they sold on to the craftsmen. They were running low on money and supplies. I had gotten what I wanted already – several years to formulate my next moves. Or enough power to get out of a very sticky situation, depending.
"Where are Cali and Tahar?"
"Oh, they were just helping me bring in some more firewood. We've been keeping the chapel warm for longer so that you can rest comfortably."
"Thanks."
Sandra had a pensive look on her face as she busied herself with cleaning up after me. The bandages and other medical supplies they had used to fix my broken bones were still lying in a pile atop one of our sleeping bags. I got the sense that something else had happened in the intervening time between me blacking out and waking up in bed. The longer the silence dragged on, the more suspicious I became.
"Did they say anything? I caused a big ruckus when… what's his name came around."
"Harold," she corrected me, "He had plenty to say about the way you fought him, but that kind of rough treatment is a fact of life out here. All the other men did was mock him for it. 'If you can't back up your words with action, don't say them,' that sort of thing."
They'd been talking then. I wondered if Alain had let on that he knew something about the mysterious death that had occurred. My curiosity was getting the better of me, so I tried to steer the conversation into a more revealing candour.
"Are you a woman of faith, Sandra? You mentioned something earlier."
She looked up at me from her kneeling position on the floor. Her mouth opened and closed again without sparing me a word of insight. She didn't know how to respond. She had to decide whether I was someone who would leave her alone if she told the truth. I already had circumstantial evidence to suggest that she was a very dedicated member of the now extinct church. No historian would dedicate so much time to preserving a comparatively recent construction like this. Stigma had also pointed to the presence of a Branch Relic, which she had sniffed out during our mosey through the village.
"I suppose I would describe your appearance here as divine intervention," she ventured.
"There's nothing divine about me."
"You needn't be. Many of the men and women scripted onto the pages of the Branch's books are flawed in character, just as the rest of us are. A hero does not need to be virtuous or even kind. He renders assistance to those in need and relieves them of their worries."
"Even if he didn't intend to help in the first place?"
"Yes, even then."
"I just thought it was interesting – to have a community that still follows the Branch Church's creed."
Sandra gasped and covered her mouth.
"Oh, don't look so shocked," I scoffed, "This chapel, some of the things you've said, it's obvious."
"I see… Indeed. Many of the villagers still follow the teachings. What of your own faith? Do you have a belief that sees you through hard times?"
I chuckled, we'd had this discussion before; "Belief and faith are just different types of trust. I don't trust. I know. There's something out there bigger than us. A force that I can't understand. I was never the religious sort, and I'm still not. You're really wondering if I'm going to spread this to someone else, aren't you?"
Sandra's lips thinned, "Will you?"
"No. Not that anyone is going to come all the way out here just to confirm that kind of thing. What would I get out of it?"
"Hm. Some people have a grudge against the church, even though it doesn't really exist as it used to."
I had no doubt about that. Churches were where some of the worst and most inhumane abuses were committed. Orphanages, poor houses, and other charitable ventures would have been core to their purpose and mission. Places where large numbers of vulnerable people gathered were ripe for exploitation. A hands-off approach would result in places the likes of which I was raised in. Fights, bullying, and a whole lot worse besides. Sandra took an approach that would trouble me in any other situation. I could tell just from the way that she said it that she was in denial about the church's culpability in anything that they did wrong. It was easier to plug your ears then acknowledge that things are imperfect.
"Do you know about the thing they found?"
"No. I haven't heard a thing about that."
Interesting. Either she was lying, or the men from the quarry had elected to keep it secret from the other villagers. Maybe that was why they were all at each other's throats. If it came out to everyone there would be a lot of questions – and some of those questions would revolve around the death of their compatriot. I was sure that Sandra would know. She was the woman responsible for maintaining the chapel after all. She had overheard my friendly discussion with Harold too.
"I don't want to stay in bed all day," I concluded. Even though I was still in pain, staying in the village would only prolong the issue. I needed to get back to the city and find myself a healing potion to make my bones set faster.
"But those injuries are terrible! You really should take the time to heal before moving."
"I'm fine. I can still walk, I think."
I swung my legs off the edge of the bed once again and put pressure onto them. I felt a little unsteady, but not enough to deter me from getting up under my own power. I was still wearing my shirt and pants – though the three women I had been housing with wouldn't have been able to patch me up if I was.
Sandra sighed and resigned herself to assisting me. It took a large effort to get all of my layers back on with an injured arm, but we managed it somehow. With that done I considered what to bring outside with me. Carrying my entire loadout wasn't smart. I grabbed a spare knife from my bag and slipped it into my pocket, just in case. It paid to be paranoid in this line of work.
The only purpose of my excursion was to find Cali and Tahar. Once that was done, we could start thinking about heading home and taking a few days to rest. The cold weather was getting to me, I had no idea how the people who lived here coped with it. Sandra followed me like a lost puppy as we headed through the front door of the chapel and out onto the top of the hill. The views were nice – but not enough to compensate for the weather.
The long, winding stairwell down into the village was more intimidating now that my head was swimming. I persevered. Even if I fell, my immense HP pool would probably protect me from anything serious. When I poured out onto the main road through the village, it quickly became apparent that something was going on with my knowhow. Several people were gathered in a cluster by the village well.
"Was it like this when you came back?" I asked.
Sandra shook her head; "Oh dear. I'd better go see what's going on."