by Heath Pfaff
"Tempest!" I heard Kyeia gasp, and then I felt strong arms under me, lifted me off of the ground. I didn't remember falling, but I had.
"I can walk." I said, pushing away at the shifting cloak next to which I was held. It was as unmovable as a wall. Tempest seemed hardly aware of my weight as he kept pace down the road, silent and sentinel-like as ever. Blood from my torn right side ran down the surface of his cloak, and I watched as it seemed to change color and shift path at random against the magic fabric.
I don't know how far we went, as time seemed to dilate and twist about my fevered mind. Before I knew it, I was being placed gently on the ground. I tried to rise to my feet, but Kyeia came close to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Sit, wait. Our fate is in the hands of Tempest now." In the throes of fever, I could only remember the Shao Geok, and the fact that more of them were coming for us, and so I did as she said. All around us the foliage at the sides of the road seemed to rustle with menace, shadows dark and looming. I looked about me, quickly turning my head from one side to the next, trying to determine from where the attack might first come. When it finally came, I didn't know even realize it until the first of the creatures lay dead. There was a grim gurgling, and as I turned to face it I saw the shadowy body of the monster tumbling to the ground, its head tumbling elsewhere. There were other dark shapes coming from the woods, surrounding us. Tempest seemed to appear and disappear amidst them, flashing from place to place, seeming everywhere at once in a swirl of his magical cloak. Where he stepped, death followed. Even if I hadn't been lost in fever, I don't think I could have followed the movements of his limbs as he attacked.
He carried a sword at his side, but he did not immediately draw it from its scabbard. His initial attacks were all carried out with his bare hands, but as the enemy numbers grew greater he drew his sword, extending his killing range. He would vanish from one place, appear next to one of the monsters, there would be a great flash, and the creature would simply fall apart. The Shao Geok seemed mostly uninterested in Tempest as he fought them, only moving to fight him if he crossed their path -- he was not their primary target. They came directly for Kyeia and me. She was pressed close against me, her arms wrapping me tight, and I might have enjoyed the embrace more if the situation had been different. As it stood, I felt wretched and just wanted the nightmare to end. The Shao Geok just kept coming, and with each wave the area that Tempest was able to hold grew smaller and smaller. Bodies were piling up at an alarming rate but one man, even one Black-Eyed Devil, couldn't be everywhere at once.
Tempest let out a bloodcurdling roar, a sound so terrifying that I began to tremble in fright, tears seeping from my eyes. I didn't fear Tempest any longer, but his voice was such that it still caused me to quake in horror. Even Kyeia, pressed so near me, trembled at his challenge. The Shao Geok fell back, visibly balked by the voice of their enemy. The lone warrior did not miss this opportunity. He dove into their ranks anew, wielding his sword as though it was the hand of death itself, and indeed for the Shao Geok it was. They kept coming though, pouring from the woods the way water will seep through a crack in a dam until the whole thing collapses. The fighter in the shifting cloak roared into the night again, and though it slowed the enemy once more its effect was not as drastic as it had been the first time. Tempest was losing ground.
Then, before my eyes, there were two forms dancing and twirling. It happened so suddenly that I thought it might be the effect of the fever at first. Tempest was fighting, losing ground, and suddenly there were two men in shifting cloaks, ripping through the ranks of Shao Geok. If it hadn't been for some obvious differences in appearance, I would have sworn that I was hallucinating, that Tempest's amazing speed had finally gotten to my fever-addled brain. This wasn't the case though; The second man was taller than Tempest and carried a spear. I couldn't make out any more details because the new-comer was moving every bit as fast as Tempest, and keeping their speed-blurred features in sight would have been difficult even for a perfectly healthy individual. The colors of the world faded and I realized that I was losing consciousness. I realized what was happening to me and I opened my mouth to protest.
"Oh no..." I gasped as the battle, the sounds of death, and the world at large fled from my perception for a time.
I awoke in bed, but it didn't take me long to realize that it wasn't my own familiar bed. The mattress was far more comfortable than mine had ever been, and it was in a room I didn't recognize. The room was small, barely large enough for the bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and maybe two or three people to stand comfortably in but little else. I was lucky enough to have a window though, and I found the warm light streaming in through the high opening to be particularly calming. There was a noise at the door and a moment later a heavy-set dark haired girl came into the room. She was dressed in the gray and white uniform of a medical attendant, and when she entered and saw me awake she smiled. Her face wasn't beautiful by most standards, but she had the kind of smile that made her plainness and her slight plumpness seem insubstantial. Her eyes were a vivid green, made to seem even more vivid by the dark frame of her hair. I guessed she was only a few years older than me.
"Ah, it's good to see you awake, Master Fenly." Her voice was deep, husky, almost sultry, though I think it was an unintended sultriness.
I stretched and felt pain surge down the right side of my body. I wanted to investigate the damage more closely since I hadn't taken the time to really see how badly hurt I was, but I didn't feel comfortable doing so with someone watching. I had also just noticed a complete lack of clothing beneath the covers of my bed which made me hesitant to remove them. "I wish I could say it was good to be awake." I said, reflecting on the pain, and then added, "I see you know my name, however I don't know yours. What should I call you by?"
She laughed merrily. "I'm sorry, Master Fenly. I am certainly being lax in my good manners, aren't I? My name is Merrywin. Just Merrywin. You can call me Nurse Merrywin, if you like, but Merrywin is fine by me. I see you're still feeling some pain, but I suppose that's to be expected given the extent of your injury. You had a nasty infection in your wounds, though thankfully they were at least not terribly deep. You did require some stitches, though."
I sat up suddenly, my full memory of the day before finally coming clear to me. "Kyeia, Tempest, are they alright?" I asked, remembering the dire situation we'd been in before I collapsed. My heart was beating hard in my chest. Merrywin placed a firm hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down in my bed.
"The Knight and the Bound One are fine, Master Fenly. I'm sure Kyeia will be in to see you later." The plump nurse said with a smile. Only after hearing those words did my heart calm and the full realization of just how naked I was in the presence of my female nurse became clear to me. I blushed and pulled my blankets up about my shoulders. The sultry voiced woman went on, apparently not noticing my discomfort. If she did notice, she was good enough not to mention it. "She has been in to check on you every day, and that is not at all common for one of her kind. They generally don't take interest in..." Her words trailed off. "Ooops, Nurse Merrywin needs to learn to keep her mouth closed, I think." She said with a short laugh. She had piqued my curiosity however, and raised several new questions. That Tempest was referred to as a Knight did not surprise me, but what did "Bound One" imply, and what did Merrywin mean when she said "her kind." I hadn't detected any hostility in her tones, but she had referred to Kyeia as though she were some alien creature. I briefly considered asking my questions but I had the feeling that I either wouldn't get an answer, or that in getting an answer I would cause trouble for the nurse who had been looking after me while I recovered. One question, though, I thought was safe enough to ask.
"You said she has been here to check on me 'every day.' How long have I been asleep?" I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"You've been unconscious for four days now, Master Fenly. Your injuries were not terrible, but by not cleaning the wounds and exposing yourself to strenuous exercise af
ter receiving the wounds, you started a bad infection and weakened your body's natural ability to fight such an infection. We've had to also give you medicinal treatments that have held you unconscious to hasten your body's mending."
I nodded, only happy that it had not been longer. "I understand. In the future I'll have to try to avoid making your job more difficult."
At that, she laughed. "But then I would have nothing to challenge me, Master Fenly, and what fun would that be?"
I smiled, liking Merrywin more and more by the minute. She had a good sense of humor and an honest personality. "In that case, I'll see if I can get myself into a bit more trouble next time. ...and, feel free to call me Lowin. I'm not accustomed to being called 'Master' anything.
"Alright, Lowin, shall we have a look at your wounds and see how the healing is coming?"
I acquiesced, deciding that any shyness was irrelevant at this point as she'd already been treating the wound while I was unconscious. Besides, my own curiosity mostly overrode any insecurity. She approached the bed and I rolled on to my left side, allowing the blankets to come off of my right side. Her hands were quick and skilled in working with the binding of my wounds, but there was still pain. I winced in both discomfort and shock as I saw the extensive damage to my flesh. There were many deep cuts and gashes running the length of my right side, some that would obviously form into permanent souvenirs of my quick and abrasive meeting with the road. One in particular ran from half way down the right side of my torso to just below my right hip. I held the blankets about my groin tightly, keenly aware of Merrywin's eyes as they traveled the length of my body. To her credit, she went about her work with a kind quickness, replacing all my bandages and coating my wounds in a cooling salve. As she finished I pulled the blankets back around me, happy to be hidden again beneath their surface. I felt, though it was no fault of Merrywin's, like I'd been stripped of all my male bravado and strength.
"Your wounds are healing nicely now. You wouldn't have wanted to see them when you first came in, I can tell you that. I think you'll be back on your feet full time in a day or two. You'll need to go easy at first, of course, until those stitches are ready to come out." I nodded dumbly at her judgment, still shocked from what I'd seen. There had been a good deal of stitches amidst the mass of angry flesh. I hadn't counted them, and had no intention of doing so.
"I'll be back in a moment." Merrywin said cheerily, and then she was out of my room in a flash. She was back just as quickly, a tray in one hand, a pitcher of some liquid and a tankard in the other. My stomach rumbled loudly as it anticipated whatever food might be hidden beneath the lid of the tray and, I realized as well, my mouth was as dry as it had ever been. She sat the tray and pitcher down on the desk near the bed, bade me eat well, instructed me to stay in bed as much as possible for the rest of the day, and departed. I was, in a way, sad to see her go. Her company had been pleasant and her tongue was loose enough that I might have learned more of my situation from her general chatter. Perhaps, I reasoned, that was why she had chosen to not stick around while I ate.
I sat up in bed, positioned myself before the desk on which the food had been sat, and prepared to eat. I considered momentarily looking for my clothes but decided against it. It would be too much hassle to get dressed anyway with such tender wounds. I wrapped the blankets about my waist and removed the lid from my meal. Steam rose from a bowl of soup. It had a deep brown color to it and smelled of fresh vegetables and herbs. There was a small loaf of bread as well, and the pitcher of liquid turned out to be full to the brim with chilled water. I poured myself a drink and set to devouring the food. It was perhaps not the heartiest meal, but for having not eaten in days it tasted like a feast for a king. I was nearly finished with my food when the handle at the door to my room began turning. I jumped in surprise, attempted to pull my blankets further around me and became entangled, falling backwards into the bed, half in and half out of my covers. I looked up in time to see Kyeia in the door frame, her hood up, as was it always, but her mouth open in a tiny "O" of surprise. She had apparently not expected me to be awake and even more apparently had not expected me to be half naked and sprawled across my bed in what had to seem like a very compromising position. I sat up as quickly as I could in an attempt to recover some dignity, but the effort was at that point mostly lost.
"Excuse me," Kyeia said. "I didn't know you were up yet. I'll go." She turned to exit and I leaped from my bed, catching her lightly by the shoulder. In the process my coverings fell down around my ankles, and I found myself all too aware of the chill in the room.
"Don't go..." I said somewhat pathetically, standing there in nothing but the skin I'd been born with. She turned back to me, what I could see of her cheeks a light pink that seemed almost a bright red against the framing of her white hood.
"Alright, but could you at least please pull your blankets back up?" She said, and there was a smile on her lips that made me wish I could kiss them. I refrained, somehow.
"Ah... y-yes." I stammered, recovering my blankets and returning to bed. My side was aching now and I guessed I had probably just coerced some of the wounds to begin bleeding again. Merrywin would have something to say about that when next I saw her.
"How are you feeling?" Kyeia asked. Behind her words was a true concern that made me smile, despite myself.
"I am doing well. Merrywin says I should be on my feet soon."
"That is good." She replied, her face growing serious. "There is still much you need to learn. There is much to do. I..." She started, stopped, and then began again, as if changing her mind about what she should say. "We, Tempest and I, were most concerned about you. He believes there is great potential within you." She seemed to be gathering herself up for something, though I wasn't sure what. When she spoke again, the sadness I so often felt from her had returned. "I agree with him. You will be a person who achieves great things." I wanted to feel some sense of pride at the compliment, though I knew not what I had done to earn it, but I could feel nothing but that quiet sadness. Why did speaking a compliment seem to cost Kyeia so much?
I tried to play it off, doing my best to cover up the inexplicable feeling that I was missing something that should have been obvious. "I'm nothing special, just a keeper of lore who can barely save himself from being defeated by a roll down the road"
The girl in white shook her head vehemently, suddenly angry, though I couldn't guess why. "Don't you ever think so poorly of yourself, Lowin Fenly." She stamped her foot in agitation as she spoke, her self-composure as frayed as I'd ever seen it. "You will be great. You will do it for me or I will never, ever, forgive you, do you understand?" She didn't give me time to answer. She spun on her heels and stomped out the door, slamming it closed behind her. I was stunned. At that time I had no idea why my casual attempt at modesty had made her so angry. Thinking back, I often wish I could take back those words. I wish that I could replace them with, "I am the best, and I will always be the best." I don't know if those words are true, but they are the ones I should have spoken. The past, however, is something one cannot change, no matter how deeply one desires to do so. This monster knows that, now. Perhaps that knowledge indicates some last vestige of humanity within me.
That evening, after Kyeia had left my room in a rage, I had a very peculiar dream. I will not write of all my dreams because not all of them are pertinent to the events of these writings, but this one stands out in my memory, and though it seemed irrelevant at the time I think those reading this story will be able to glean some relevance from this nocturnal conjuring if not now then in the later pages to follow. So, let me begin.
I found myself amidst a wood of great pines. I stood upon a path that stretched out ahead, leading toward a hut in the distance, barely visible in the shadow of the green canopy above. I gazed over my shoulder to see from where I'd come, but the path did not extend behind me, so that it seemed my journey had begun where I stood. I was, then, at the beginning. I did what any man does at the beginning of a
journey. I took a step, and that one was quickly followed by another, until the hut in the distance began to grow larger, closer.
As I came within range of the structure I noticed that a trickle of smoke was issuing from its chimney, a sign that it was not merely a structure abandoned within the deep woods. I wondered who would build so far away from civilization, for though I didn't know where I was, I knew that it was a place far removed from the bustle of city life. I soon drew closer and was able to make out two figures standing outside of the hut beneath the canopy of green. Once I was close enough to clearly define the two figures, I may have stopped in my tracks with horror, had my feet not unconsciously kept carrying me forward.
The first of the figures I was able to see clearly I had at first taken to be a human man, bare to the waist, wearing some form of animal-skin pants, but once I was close enough to fully grasp what I was seeing, I realized that I was actually witnessing a naked man with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a bear. He was the less disturbing of the two entities before me. The second man, though I use the term loosely, was chained about the neck to a great wood post. He had the upper torso of a bear, and the lower body of a naked human man. I wanted to turn and run but my legs, it seemed, once started on the journey down the path, could not be turned away.
"What manner of monster are you?" I heard my own voice ask the man with the legs of the bear as I drew near.
