*Update: I'm not dead, but I still have a lot of stuff to do here. I managed to write this chapter, but I need to find a good internet provider in here to make sure I don't cash out on mobile data :))
For now, enjoy this chapter, even if it's a bit short. I'll do my best to come out with better content once I'm fully set up here, since I moved abroad and am currently living all alone*
At Mark's mention of going to look for the painkillers, Clara smiled and rummaged through her bag, which was on Perkins' head. She pulled out a tiny pack and handed half of the contents to them.
"Here you are. I hope the medicine is of help to you."
Stelle nodded and smiled as she took the pack, while Mark raised his brows.
"My, you sure are efficient. Already looked around for them?"
She nodded, gently patting Perkins on the head.
"Yes, we already did. We're in need of resources too, so I came here to look for them."
Mark let Stelle talk with Clara, simply watching from the side as they talked about Svarog and her past. Mark knew those things, so he simply switched focus to the feeling that slowly gnawed at the back of his mind. Something was still odd to him—a certain need to save someone lingering on his mind. For some reason, the moment doesn't come to him as a big one, and yet he's bothered a great deal by it.
Soon enough, Bronya and Seele came down as well, walking the same path as them. Before he knew it, the group was ready to set back to Natasha and hand in the medical resources they had found.
The walk back was smooth, and yet Mark seemed out of it. His mind couldn't figure it out, and thinking too much made blood drip from his nose like a broken tap, just drop after drop after drop. In the end, they had reunited with Oleg and the rest of the Astral Express crew, which did bring a tiny smile on his face.
March smiled as she laid eyes on them, her cheerful expression putting Mark at ease, even if just a bit. It was Oleg's expression, similar to that of Dan Heng, that did keep him on the edge—and he was right to do so. The talk was about Svarog and how dealing with him would help both them and the Underworld.
"If we manage to deal with Svarog, we could solve the entire crisis."
Mark nodded, then spoke up, still deep in thoughts that swarmed around each word he spoke.
"I see how it is. I guess it's time I try to come up with something that could fix this ordeal. After all, I did talk a big game about trying to make this world better, so it's on me to follow through with it."
All eyes fell on him, curious gazes on all sides, trying to see what his mind would come up with. Even the silent Dan Heng couldn't fully hide the tinge of curiosity in his gaze. One could say that, with an individual as peculiar as Mark, who had known some bits of information from the start, the expectations reached astonishing levels.
"Here's the deal. Plain and simple, no beating around the bush. We try to get along with the vagrants. That's the best solution."
Seele gave him a stingy look, one that spoke loudly of how much she was against it. Bronya, however, did get into her thoughtful stance, her fingers lightly brushing against her chin. Oleg nodded, waiting to hear more, while the Express crew exchanged glances in silence.
"Yeah, we try to get along. It's fairly easy in its own right, if done well. Resources, scarce as they are, must be shared. It's the sort of effort that will take a lot of sacrifice from us, but it should throw off Svarog's calculations and what not."
Seele nearly threw a fit, her scythe ready to lunge at him.
"Are you out of your damn mind!? Do you even hear yourself? The situation in the Underworld is bad as it is, and you want to make it worse?"
Mark glanced at her, knowing damn well that her worries were justified. Still, it was a shot worth taking. He crossed his arms and let out a sigh.
"It's bad, yes, but also good in a long-term scenario, should it all play out as intended. We might require a bit of help from Natasha to make it even better though."
Oleg raised a brow, mimicking Mark's stance by crossing his arms as well.
"Natasha's help? Why is that?"
Mark looked over everyone present there, smiling a bit.
"We'll all play doctor. Share resources, and from what I know from Clara, the situation at the vagrants' camp is pretty nasty. They lack resources too, and their people are wounded as well. I myself have a bit of knowledge on some basic first aid, so I think we're good to go with the smaller wounds. Natasha can teach us more, and we could all make an effort to lend a hand en masse."
Steele almost swung her weapon, but Oleg put a hand before her, motioning for her to stay. He stared into Mark's being with one serious glance, yet it didn't shake him.
"Are you sure this plan will work?"
Mark shook his head. There was no use in lying.
"No, I'm not... and yet, if the vagrants have a brain, they should make it work. Union between people is the one thing even world leaders are scared of. Numbers are hard to tackle, no matter who you are."
With that, their plan was made.
"Fine," said Oleg, letting his arms fall at his sides. "We'll try doing as you said. It's good that the vagrants live near Svarog's lair, meaning we can tackle both a walk there and moving along your plan."
Mark nodded, straightening his back a bit. Sometimes it hurt for no reason, so he had to move a bit.
"Yeah, got it. So, to Natasha's clinic, we go to learn some things. We're short on medical supplies, but we need to try and split things so that we could try to help the vagrants."
With that, they all headed to Natasha's clinic. The place was bustling, filled with people who showed all signs of hurt. Natasha herself was tired; that much was visible, yet she held herself with more dignity than many manage to muster in a lifetime.
She quickly glanced to the door, speaking as she cleaned someone's wound—a deep cut that looked pretty nasty.
"Oh, it's you. Sorry, but I'm a bit busy."
March nodded, speaking in her lively voice as she watched from up close.
"That's why we're here. We wish to lend a hand, so teach us how to take care of wounds and things."
She glanced at the group—a good few working hands that would lighten her workload by a lot. Still, she had her doubts, since teaching these sorts of things takes a bit of time, time that she didn't really have.
Mark noticed the conflicted state she was in while working, so he simply chose to suit himself up. He grabbed a pair of tweezers and slowly lowered them in a pot of boiling water.
"We disinfect the tool. We're short on alcohol, so no using that."
He slowly took it out, the tips of his fingers touching the water, but it didn't bother him much. He took it out, grabbed a piece of cloth with the tweezers, fixed it in place to the best of his abilities, and began working next to Natasha on another patient that seemed to have some smaller wounds—but open cuts nonetheless.
"Well, you do seem to hold a bit of knowledge on this."
Mark nodded.
"It's just the basics, nothing more. We don't want to risk an infection, even if it could happen since we're low on many resources. Also..."
He quickly briefed her in on the plan, which seemed to ignite a spark in her eyes. Suddenly, her fatigue vanished, leaving behind a hopeful woman who wished to do her best.
"I see how it is. I'll try to work something out. Meanwhile, if you're all here to learn, I should do my best to teach you."
She began barking orders left and right, telling everyone what to do and how to do it. Mark smiled at the thought of Natasha, the actual leader of Wildfire, using her skills in this manner.
While Dan Heng and Bronya held some knowledge on medical issues, the rest were pretty much clueless. March, Stelle, and Seele struggled to figure things out, bumping into each other and almost causing a mess.
"Focus, all of you. It's not that difficult." said Dan Heng, pretty unphased by this. Mark knew how much he had to handle March and Stelle like some sort of babysitter.
"But it's hard. There's too much to do, and you need to be quick and... and..."
March even ran out of words. The whole day was a hustle to get around, but in the end, the injured had been treated as well as possible on limited resources that had to be cut down on more to have some for the vagrants.
By the end of it all, Mark was sprawled out on the floor. He didn't know how, or why, but he had managed to keep up with Natasha, which surprised him like never before. The feeling that had gnawed away at the back of his mind was still there, dulled by the other thing that turned his nights into attempts at not losing his sanity.
The feeling pushed him forward, into things that he didn't even know. It was something words couldn't describe well, like a force that lived within, moving him forward, ushering him into something grand. Mark could only call it his will for something grand.
"Heh... we did it. Tomorrow, we set off to the vagrants' camp."
He let out a weak chuckle as everyone just tried to lie down wherever, tired out of their wits.