《Journey of a Scholar》Chap 22: the aftermath

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Gelcaria is the first to come up to her senses.

She quickly goes to the monster's corpse to extract Peterell's blade from the right eye of the beast, mine being too far sunk in its skull. She then stands beside me and readies herself for whatever is coming for us next.

We can see shadows cast on the ground coming from behind the doorframe before the squealing sound stops.

A strange voice is heard, like an overlapping echo, talking to us: “Is anyone in there?” It probes with care.

We are too stunned and relieved to answer and soon after the wary face of a Nereian appears, trident pointing forward. He stops when he sees Yoli's dead body hanging above the monster's remains, still held in the pincers. His big fish eyes cover themselves with a layer of trans lucid eyelids, probably helping him to better see in the dim light of the cellar. His gaze finally falls on Gel and the rest of us.

His face grimaces in a parody of a smile showing rows of small pointy teeth, not unlike our last adversary. “Don't worry girl, I'm with the Tridents. We are going to keep you safe, we are her to help.” He states with his eerie voice.

Gel doesn't relax much, it must be her first time seeing a nereian up close or at all. Melodi is the first to answer : “Please help Tel, he's hurt.” She says pointing at me with her unharmed arm.

Her solicitude is truly touching when she herself is wounded.

The closest Nereian approaches me, his yellow eyes reflecting my face like a mirror. He has long curly green hair tied in a warrior's braid. He carries the smell of fresh water with him but nothing fishy or smelly. His webbed moist hand touches mine to check for my pulse or something because he turns towards his companion to squeal something in their dolphin-like language, emitting a series of high pitched sounds and whistles.

The both of them manage to pry open the pincer using one of their trident as lever. When the lock binding me finally eases I slip down. My legs flinch under me but the river guard catches me before I can fall. I have just enough time to take a look at my right side, rolling my shirt up: there is an impressive bruise and a small haematoma forming under it but no cut nor slices and no blood sipping out. Each breath is painfully burning my right side and lung but I don't feel the need to cough up blood. At least I have no perforated lung nor pneumothorax. If I have some broken ribs I luckily evaded the worst outcomes.

The Merman takes a quick look at the wound and deems it light enough to move me around. He carries me outside while his colleague takes care of my comrades.

They escort us back to the docks and to the “admiralty”, which became a field hospital.

Outside, the wide river is now unnaturally bright blue like a cleaned toilet sink, tainted by the ichor of hundreds of monsters. The fishermen are now at ease but keep their harpoons nearby and there are others, who I assume to be the local blades with them. Well equipped men and women in shiny armours and showing signs of wielding magic. I can see a woman with purple flames dancing around her left arm while another has a shiny halo of flying crystals, dazzingly circling around him at high speed and there is a last one carrying a maul that is the size of a small car probably using Chi to manage the feat of lifting the thing.

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Far away to the west in the sky above the lord's castle I can make out the shapes of some flying cavalry. Squads flying in tight formations, although they are too far for me to tell on what they are flying.

In the south there is a pillar of black smoke rising from the river were the biggest tentacled monster was.

Only now after the adrenaline wears off and my brain resumes its normal functioning, do I get hit by the full brunt of what happened.

I've seen some terrible sights in my life. I remember a dolphin slaughter in Japan where the sea was reddened by the sheer amount of fresh blood. The coppery smell, the unnatural red sea, the cries of the panicked cetaceans and the stern faces of the butcherers there made me puke back then.

But right now I'm not disgusted by the pile of monsters. Those aren't animals, they are unnatural vermins that mercilessly murdered Yoli.

The many corpses of fighters and civilians laying around are a harsh reminder that I too just almost died down there. I've never been this close to dying. I mean, I've already died once but it wasn't anything like this, I wasn't risking my life in front of a monster showing a disturbing will to kill me at all cost, nor witnessing the brutal death of anyone else.

This is a brutal reminder that this is not Earth. My life here is most precarious. I'm trembling in fear at the sudden realisation: I can die almost anytime, be it an unlucky dip in the river, a bad flu or now a surprise monster attack.

This has to change somehow, I don't want to go on like that nor do I wish this kind of life for my loved ones!

Inside the field hospital there are Fusaad's acolytes taking care of the wounded, cleaning gashes and cuts before applying some balms and wrapping them in bandages. There is even a priestess of Fusaad in her dark green robe, mumbling healing prayers beside the most heavily wounded ones to ward off infections.

The air is heavy with the smell of blood, medicinals herbs and retch. And with the occasional wails of the wounded it makes for an unsettling mood.

As I am examined by a Temple's sister Peterell appears, his left arm at 90 degrees bound in a sling. His face is still covered by a crust of purple dried blood spots and his black hair is now loose and dishevelled. He is unable to carry his daughter who rushes at him but pats her head, relieved to see all of us alive even if harmed.

Mel almost purrs under his petting, also relieved to feel safe back again after our underground ordeal.

After a look at his daughter's blood covered fur comes the sad question: “Where is Yoli? What happened to you lot?”

I wasn't feeling the energy to answer him. Instead Gelcaria was the one to talk, stating bluntly “She's dead. We got attacked by two monsters.”

If Peterell was shocked by the news he doesn't show it. I'm amazed by their stoicism. Peterell I can understand, the man looks like he has seen a lot. But Melodi and Gelcaria? Where did they find the strength to not panic earlier and how did they take this so well? Even Balout who was terrified down there is now looking better after his mad display of brutality.

Still puzzled by their resilience I find the will to add about the poor Yoli, “She went ahead and sacrificed herself to shield us.” The least I can do to thank her is to praise her memory.

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Peterell makes a prayer to Otik, god of death and wandering souls, asking him to bring our saviour a well earned respite.

In the end I get plastered with a smelly ointment that prickles at my skin a little, wrapped in a bandage around my chest and fed a disgusting “herbal pill”. I know the best remedies are supposed to taste bitter but this is really too much. I hope it is as efficient as the sour aftertaste it leaves on my tongueis strong.

My ribs aren't broken according to the young acolyte's diagnose after a quick examination. I don't know how she can tell but I don't feel like arguing. I too believe nothing is broken.

The others get the same light tending to their cuts and wounds before we are allowed to leave under the care of Peterell. Gelcaria and Balout only had minor bruises and small cuts.

Only Melodi had a deeper wound where the sea hyena thing clawed at her arm. She's been bandaged and also got a medication. Her flat face frowning at the sourness with her cute tiny nose wrinkling in disgust till it turned white. “Bleh.” was her thanks to our medic.

Outside, back on the docks, there are guards in mails and groups of soldiers patrolling all around weapons at the ready despite there being no threat left. Not too far there is pile of humanoids corpses: soldiers and civilians less lucky than we were. A priestess of Otik dressed in black and white is praying for their souls to find rest.

Peterell goes to exchange a few words with the dockmaster probably to inform him about the death of Yoli and where to recover her body in case the tridents didn't carry the info back at him.

The bodies of monsters are piled in multiples mounds. Some are already put afire by mage blades or Oreo's priests. The smell of burnt flesh gets added to the mix. For a second I feel like eating some fish grillades, which reminds me that Yoli is now dead and that she will never be at her cooking stall again. Now the smell makes me slightly nauseous.

The bells aren't chiming in alarm any longer and evening bell rings once reminding us of how late it got.

The sailor escorts us back to our homes. Balout is the first to leave us, his bakery being on our way back. His family is unharmed and both glad to see the boy safe and worried by his bruises and gory tale.

Having turned a monster's head to mulch seems to have given him his wits back. As terrified as he was in the cellar, he now seems to have recovered. Or maybe he is still in the daze of the shock? Time will tell.

Gel and my place are our next stop. No one got hurt in Gel's home. At my home I'm the last one coming back. Mom hugs me and frowns at the sight of Peterell's wounded arm and even more when I whimper in pain as she hugs my chest. With a face turning sourer and sourer she lift my shirt to find the bandages wrapped around my chest. Under her gaze full of reprimands the fisherman recounts the events of today.

The monstrous tide was mostly of waterborn monsters. They managed to infiltrate the city by surprise, staying unnoticed underwater. Only when the biggest of them got spotted did they close the southern river gate but it was already to late to impede most of the tide. What's even stranger is how the horde got unnoticed through the southern territories.

The south merchant district endured most of the attack. The leviathan (probably the big tentacles we saw from afar) managed to enter before the closing of the gate and was fought back there by the shieldlord and his retinue.

The area around the south docks got thrashed, many buildings got destroyed and one of two bridges got partially destroyed. It's a massive stone edifice that will take some time to repair. This will hurt the city's trade badly. But the few living and working on the other river bank will make the business of barges thrive in the near future.

The fishermen at our dock also faced a large attack. They were taken by surprise and overwhelmed by the sheer number of mokuris (the sea-hyenas things) and pushed back by the armoured zarigans (the arthropod lobster monster) until the garrison was able to reinforce them.

Those on the river and the boats that were sailing at the moment got whipped out, their boats capsized and sunken.

During the ensuing chaos a few monsters were able to pass through and charge deeper in the city. Our ordeal in the cellar wasn't an exception. If nothing, we even fared better than most, at least some of us made it out.

Again the sight of the mangled body of Yoli imposes itself in my mind.

I thank Melodi once more before she leaves. When she kicked that sea-hyena monster she saved my life. She waves it off like it's nothing but still blushes in pride a little bit. She's probably not fully understanding the scope of her act, it was both reckless but also my life saver. I'll owe her, and Gel, and Balout's berserker fury.

At home Dad has a small bandaged cut on his right arm. He got drafted in the east hill militia and they got assaulted by a couple of flying fish monsters, some kind of angry exocets from what he describes. My mother and sister were safe, far enough from the river to not be faced with any attack.

Because they keep pressing me on, especially my brother Barasti who was sheltered away from the danger. I briefly recount what happened on my side, keeping the most gruesome details undercover. I don't want to ever remember Yoli's last wails but I fear I'll have nightmares for a while.

My family is awkwardly calm about all this. I get that this must not be the first disaster they have to face but shouldn't they be more unsettled that monsters managed to attack the city and kill so many? How can they still feel safe? I feel like I'm the only sane one around here, which is usually a sign of madness...

My sister wants to have a look at my wound but mom refrains her from unwrapping it. Big Bro tries to elbow me in the ribs to test how much that would hurt. I manage to avoid most of his attempts but have to concede a few whimpers when he gets a few good hits at my bruises.

In the backyard Godzilla is lazying in the last rays of the sun as if nothing peculiar happened today.

Our respite is quenched as grandma appears, eyes reddened and puffy, informing us that grandpa died.

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