My stamina seemed unwavering as I managed to carry the man for almost an hour through the vast environment of trees. No area that I and the lion-boar came by was considered a safe spot to settle for the night, and I hate that she had to bear her raw wounds. But I have to say, I'm really glad that's what she only obtained from that Vulture. It could've been worse. It only got a little more difficult when we had to hike up higher, having my legs almost giving up and feeling my ribs ache when breathing, due to the man's weight upon me aside from the slight stinging on my neck that I only realized was there. That armament really did something to me this time. It only meant that the remaining strength I had from my unearthly strength had depleted. I didn't complain though. A soldier shouldn't. Plus, it's nothing compared to how many times he had saved my life. Eventually, in luck's favor, we're able to find a safe space just at a higher elevation — a cave. It's far, far enough from the district's reach.
Daybreak is a few hours away, but I'm in good condition to not fall asleep just yet, regardless of how peaceful the environment is, combined with the ambiance of discordant cricketing, and whispering plus the echoes of flowing water from the brook just ahead further within the cave. The evident bluish light it refracts upon the stone walls gives more safety and comfort. But someone has to keep watch.
It wasn't that grueling to gather herbs when they were mostly available nearby. I've first treated the Lion-Boar and is now peaceful in her sleep, at least, after licking off the ground leaves I put on her wounds.
Now, I sit on my knees before the still unconscious man with a wet fabric in hand that I ripped from the robe still covering him. This is the least I could do. Gently, I gently unveil the seem of the suit, revealing the rest of his frame that is also smudged with dirt before I start with his face, having to run a finger over to push his hair locks aside. This is the second time I've got a closer view of his guise, and I'm still in disbelief that he — a total stranger — had saved my life numerous times, mainly from the impossibly survivable, and is now with me along the way, helping further. He looks so ordinary, yet he's completely something else. Not a Wolf-breed that I've thought of the whole time. Now, it's clear how he has managed to rescue me from Ordinal Thirteen. I shouldn't even have tried to know when I still don't know how I'll repay him. Even the pouch of Terratites wouldn't suffice. Yet, he's with me, anyway. And even if I try leaving him, it's obvious he'll be able to find me again. But the other question still stands. Why would he do all of this?
The paper with my face sketched in is in my pocket. I have no concrete assumption to hang on to when it has a written date that certainly tells when it was drawn. Driven by my curiosity, I have the urge to ask him about it, but I'm afraid that I might only become rude and invasive or trigger an unwanted discussion. I guess all I can do is keep it for now. Or should I, at all?
I carefully trail the tail of the fabric with my finger over his cheek, then to his scruffy jawline — the hairs seem to have grown a little more in length since the night I met him. I don't mind paying attention to his nose and eyebrows as well. Once his face is already free of dirt, I move down to his neck and then collarbones. I haven't even gone far down and I already can't help but be distracted by the same scars on his chest, the supposed existent mark of the stab wound caused by the chunk of metal is not there. It completely healed off. But if that's the case, then why not these still existing scars? Recalling the red gleaming they made earlier as he returned in this form, perhaps, they aren't just scars…
I snap my focus back, cleaning the rest of his frame, having to finish over his arm, then under his shoulder joint, which causes him to jolt, and I yelp so loud that it echoes the cave linings as he snatches my hand. That abrupt grip burns my veins as it halts the blood flow.
"That tickles," He mutters softly in his weak voice, and that quickly sends me the realization of how awkward the moment has turned. I'm touching the unconscious man, naked. Now, I feel mortified.
His grip loosens and I pull away, dropping the fabric now smothered with his own dirt. I try to escape the humiliation by cleaning up the tiny litter I made and standing up to throw them somewhere else instead of just burning them on the bonfire.
"What did you see?" He asks, and I stop. I can't tell if it's either a serious question or a double-meaning question that is only further elevating the heat of embarrassment beneath my stomach. Or is it the sketch?
"Everything," I say, candidly, implying it with a double meaning, as well.
"Did I hurt anyone?"
That sounded more serious.
I turn to face him, the embarrassment completely diminished. "No. Not really." Just the Ordinal. No one else. So, it shouldn't affect him much even if I enlighten him about it. But to consider his state, I decided not to get into detail. Not that he'd even be proud that he utterly destroyed an Immortal Armament, permanently — beyond repair.
His absolute silence with my answer justifies his denial to know everything. I want to even say that he almost died. But that might still lead to unwanted discussion.
"Get some rest," I only say.
"Where are we?" He sits up like a withered vegetable, and I proceed to the bonfire unnoticed, throwing the litter in hand to it. I sit a mere meter away from the bonfire opposing him, and he's just there, a palm over his head, breathing heavily.
I then explain to him why we can't go back to the municipality after the encounter with the Ordinal — that we'd be preyed on for money from those who witnessed us, besides the aftermath we left behind. And so, I rather brought us here, with our former plans extinguished. Back to square one. Right now, I'm holding my thoughts from trepidation about what could be happening to my mother at the moment. Other than that, is Kyla. It's been days and I don't know what could've happened to her already. And so as for Grace.
My demeanor changes when I notice the man's ominous shift and groan as if he's in pain. My instincts urge me to approach and the moment my hand lies on his arm, I almost jolt with the burning heat. I make out the scrunched expression behind his palm. He's trembling like a leaf, breathing sped up, and beginning to be slicked in his own sweat. If I'm right, he's relapsing.
My hands find their way to fixing the robe around him and lay him down, then rub his shoulders rapidly to send him more warmth. What should I do next?
"I'll go get some herbs and more wood," I say and as I return to my feet, his hand holds my wrist once again, but not as hard as earlier.
"No," He says in a shaky voice. "Please, stay."
That request takes me aback. From the stubborn impression, to now, this. But the situation demands it, as much as a part of me is against it. Very well. I move closer, properly sitting right near his flank, and let his head rest on my thigh. He hasn't removed his hand, as if it was magnetized to my wrist, and it's now rested on his neck. Somehow, my cheeks are warming and I can't confirm nor deny whether that's the cause of it. It's nowhere near the same as the former embarrassment, either.
I keep my other free hand applying friction over his other bicep, no effect has yet been instilled. "I can make some tea," I say, lightly. "I just have to get leaves nearby."
He still doesn't loosen his grip around my wrist.
"I'll be back in less than two minutes or three," I add. "I'm not going that far."
His fingers finally loosen a bit and eventually have his hand retreat and let me gather what I need.
The outskirts of the cave are bleak with common fruit-bearing greeneries, conveniently having no need to get too far for them. I eye to pick the fresher ones and an amount that is only necessary for the meantime. I don't know how long his condition will last, but for now, he needs rest, and obviously, sustenance. I can bother gathering more once we're capable of resuming the journey.
I return with a few mint mandarins and tropical guavas—leaves included as I know, boiling them makes a good tea necessary to aid similar conditions. Can't stick to just freshwater from the cave's brook. I also gathered some shaped stones for tools and some pyrophobic leaves to brew the tea. Glad I still retained other knowledge in military class when it comes to surviving out here — let alone, observing my mother in the kitchen then. I return in less than an hour with the things collected, and I'm greeted by the Lion-Boar who has repositioned herself next to the man, her barely thin fur brushing him as if she's trying to add more warmth.
I, first, add more fuel to the bonfire with sticks before assembling the pyrophobic leaves upon it to heat, pour some fresh water from the nearby brook, and crush the leaves I collected in my palms before throwing them in. I have time to use the shaped stones to cut the fruits while the liquid heats to a boil. None turned out to be perfect cuts, not that it matters, anyway. In a separate leaf, I place them but I won't offer them to him just yet.
The fire-immune leaf starts to sear and boil the water, over time, detaching the pigment from the smaller leaves in it, which is exactly what I need. I use the same fabric to retrieve it from the fire, temporarily settling it on pebbles to cool, the burning heat helps retain its pot-like shape so it's easier to hold by its thick stem.
"Can you sit up?" I whisper.
He nods in response and weakly pushes himself to rise. I don't bother assisting him until he's comfortably on his back against the Lion-Boar's flank. He attempts to open his eyes to look at me, already reaching the steaming leaf bowl of tea that I have blown to his lips. A hint of hesitation manifests but it doesn't obtain any sort of violent reaction from me.
Without further ado, he leans a little and sips. But not so much as three gulps.
"Need's sugar," He says. "I prefer my own tea."
"I thought it was soup," I say back. He still has the energy to suggest his stubborn impression when he looks like he's dying. "It's clear we don't have those around," I say, corresponding to his first comment. "Besides, it's better when it's natural. And, you don't have a choice."
I then take a chunk of mint mandarin and offer it. He obliges this time, with no hint of doubt. I brush off the ominous feeling upon feeling the tip of my fingers graze his lips and only offer another, and keep offering until it begins to deplete his relapse and finally have him at ease — it only takes around a few minutes — yet his temperature remains high.
I pile up more wood to sustain the bonfire for the rest of the night. And even make my own tea with the same ingredients. I have to admit that it does need some salt, or maybe sugar. But, the mandarins are sweet enough to compromise.
Now I sit here, back rested against the cave walls, chewing more of the fruit, still not feeling exhausted nor drowsy after all that work. But, I am not complaining about it. The man is fast asleep again. Perhaps the relapse drained much more energy off of him. But he should be fine. Maybe it was just the side effect of him reverting back to human form.
After a quick parsing of things left to do, I conclude nothing much. Just having to wait for him to regain consciousness and energy. It might take longer than I suspect so I decide to simply wait for now, maybe, again, even contemplate how my life changed course in a split second. It's just repetitive. The second my power manifested which helped me kill that darken in the desert, and now, I'm here.
My body starts to get heavy. So do my eyes. The sleep only felt like seconds and they open again, greeting the daylight from outside the cave. The Lion-Boar sits ahead of me with an unreadable stare, but I can tell her stomach wants something.
I give her a communicative look. 'That fast, huh? At least, it was dreamless.' I rise to my feet to do a few stretches, then speak to her, "Stay here, I'm gonna get more food."
I don't hold back collecting extra by taking into consideration the longer trip that is still to embark on. I chew some on the collecting process and return to complete the first meal of the day. I return with a leaf bag full of the collected fruits in hand, and I'm greeted by the man, consciousness regained, sitting with the robe only covering his lower part, and giving the Lion-boar a good scratching on the tummy. I get the beast's attention by just retrieving a few pieces of what's in the bag and rolling them to the ground for her to fetch and she wastes no second rushing to take them.
I can't hide the manifestation of the sense of relief on my face and I know he sees it as we make a second of eye-to-eye contact. "Feeling better?" I ask while setting the bag open to compromise the awkward tension.
In the corner of my vision, I see him make an assuring nod and say in a weak voice, "Yeah. Thank you."
I dart my eyes at him. Why is he thanking me when he saved me more than once? I continue on to the bonfire to reignite it and make more tea.
"I broke it," I hear the man begin, my attention darting to him. He looks a little more stable now, judging from his wide-eyed gaze. "Didn't I?"
What does he mean by that?
"Her armament," I guess I can't deny it when his olfactory senses it just behind the rock next to me. I don't bother retrieving it to show its brass semblance in my hand.
"She can't have it reforged for the second time," I say, and he gives me a questioning look. "Yeah, I'm the first to break it when I faced her back at the Citadel," I answer without him even asking, then return to set up a fire. "Out of luck. One of the reasons why I survived"
"Well, the second time doesn't seem like it was out of luck."
I chuckle in response. "I could say the same for you, " I say. "In your case against Twelve, it's now clear that it wasn't out of luck as well."
His gaze drops. "No." He doesn't sound proud of it at all. But, that's a clarification.
"She went on her own," I say, referring back to Ordinal Ten. "It's either Ordinal Three let her, or little did he know and the rest of them that she did. But how was she able to track us when you burnt my clothes? They have nothing of me to use."
His face then possesses an expression of recalling. "Of yours? No. Of mine, yes," He says. "A few strands of my hair got by Twelve was enough. Ten told me so back at the inn."
I only nod. I guess they had a decent conversation before setting off that chaos.
"It still doesn't make sense, though," I say, now fully facing him. "If Three did let her on her own, then it's too foolish of him to do so when he witnessed how I managed to survive against a number of them for the first time." I frown.
"You don't question an Ordinal," He says. "And besides, whether Ordinal Three did send Ten alone or if it was just her, either way, they all share the same intention of having you killed."
"Ten told you that too, huh?" I look back at him, referring to the latter of his statement.
"Everything I needed to hear," He says. So, he had all his questions answered about my nature.
"I don't doubt any of them. Especially Ordinal Three," I say, returning to the earlier subject. "If he did send Ten alone, then there's another reason."
"What do you think it is?"
I then remember back at the citadel. "In the citadel, he said they'll help me learn more about my abilities and in return, I will help them. Yet, as I said, it ended up all of it being a trap." I say. "But I clearly remember him only standing there, watching me get taken on by a hundred Citadel Vanguards and three other Ordinals, including Ten. So I presume that he let her go because he wanted to know more about how much… this power is manifesting so far in me." I'm gazing down at my palm, imagining there'd be some sort of glow to appear. But, no. The assumption may sound bland, but my guts say it could be legitimate.
"So you think he used his ally to gain more knowledge about you?"
"They both have similar intentions to me as you said. That's what they agree on." Even though she brought up her judgment of my nature as if she only implied what she and the rest of the Ordinals shared the purpose of finding me, it didn't hide her other vengeful intent. I maimed her name, and she wanted to clean it. "And Ordinal Three's aware I'm too human to even fatally harm someone, not even an Ordinal. But, she'll tell him everything that happened, obviously," I add. "Especially about you."
"If any, then that makes us both a threat to them," He says, and I chortle.
"Well, what kind of threat are you?" I ask, now that he brings it up.
A loud silence falls between us while I wait for an answer.
"Something you shouldn't worry about," He finally says.
"How can I be sure?"
"You carrying me all the way here pretty much justifies it," He answers. He's correct. If he was that threatening, then I should've left him there to die. "And besides, it's not like I'd even be able to hurt you that easily."
That, I can't argue with. Why do I even question it, anyway? I do admit that I felt fear seeing him in that form of a creature. But it was killed when I somehow felt his real presence behind it.
"Well, it'll only be a matter of time before more of them find us again," I say. "This time, for sure, they won't be holding back. Even in numbers."
"But they'll also be careful if they don't want to expose to the public that prophecy they say."
Ten really told him everything. "That's why I'll resume the journey as soon as you regain your energy," I say as I rise to my feet heading to the nearby waterbody.
"What are you saying?" He sounded furious with that.
I turn to him. "I can't involve more people in this."
"I already am," He almost retorts, but I ignore it even though his point is correct. After that encounter, he can no longer back out or be pushed out of his.
"You'll have three-quarters of the Terratites—"
"Oh, screw the Terratites!" That barely has me unflinching.
"I know it'll never be enough to repay you over the number of times you've saved my life," I say, looking directly at his dark eyes that are much awake now with fury.
"I thought saving lives requires nothing in return?" He says, much calmer. "A soldier like you know that, right?"
"Then why bother even coming along on the trip in the first place? You had the choice not to. When I offer you things in return to at least repay you little by little, you can't even take it."
He has no words to answer, and I avert my gaze away. I at least expect him to say something, especially since it might have something to do with the sketch. But I don't want to get to that point.
"Take time regaining your energy," I simply suggest and he weighs his gaze on me. "Keep the robe around you." He should be able to recover soon with his metabolism as a humanoid. If that's what he even is. I know this conversation is still not over, and I have no power to even make him stop and let us part ways. But, as I've said, I can't involve more people in this. I don't want to, regardless of him being… whatever creature he actually is.
The steadily flowing water of the gleaming brook levels my hips as I thoroughly rub myself with the water. The droplets seem to have absorbed some of the blue algae's glow due to how it smothers my skin with refractions, even through my slicken dark locks. The temperature agrees with my body, extracting some of the unnoticed built-up tenses. Yet, it doesn't help remove my thoughts on my mother. What could they be doing to her now? I hope Kyla and Grace are okay, too.
Emitting a deep sigh, I soak my face once more, including the narrow corners of my ears. I can't tell if I accidentally had too much water that my ears clog, or if it's my exhaustion starting to manifest in my brain. I leave the waters and proceed back to our camping spot. I let my skin dry naturally as I have no cloth to even dry myself fast.
I land my gaze on the man's lying figure, on his side, back exposed to me. But I sense he's not even asleep and rather wants to say something, yet he's held back, either by his pride or by his humility in my decision. Thinking about it now, I'm conflicted about it. Considering our encounter with Ordinal Ten surely now has him completely marked involved. And as he said earlier, whatever creature he is, he's no doubt also now a threat to the rest of the Legionnaires as well. Either parting ways or staying together still leads us to the same result of being hunted down. But I'm still stuck in making a decision.
I leave the pants that he lends me so he can have something to wear and not just that robe. I still have my trunks and his oversized shirt. It's just one less garment. I then decide to walk back near the brook to distract my thoughts. The gleaming algae are mesmerizing enough to put admiration. I find myself following up on where they go, having to walk on the sturdy and rocky path on the side. They rather lead me to a wide area. I haven't even gone far, so I'm not worried about getting back. My bare and wet footsteps echo louder this time upon the higher cave ceilings smothered with algae. It's like I'm instead watching the stars at night. Through the waters are swimming fish, many of them are familiar with being edible. I can fetch some later for supper.
Out of nowhere, I hear bats squeaking. No, they're actually not. It's rather a subtle whispering sound from the distance, further through the cave's depths, which reminds me of where I am.