by Billy Wong
"Are you related, in love or anything?"
"We're just friends. We've been so since forever, though."
"That's sweet of you. I hope your wish will come true." Cart-Dragger perked up again. "So now that that's all cleared up—on to my beautiful home!"
Chapter 4
Leading the group onto a ledge, Cart-Dragger pointed a stubby finger towards the city nestled below them in a horseshoe-shaped formation of cliffs. "Behold Galantria, City of Glories!"
It didn't look nearly as exotic as it had in Lars' nightmare. An asymmetric sprawl of drab, weathered stone buildings, it had many parts filled with rubble or clearly in disuse due to dangerously damaged structures. He supposed he shouldn't judge too harshly, considering a populated city was in itself a rare and inspiring sight in these times. Despite its obvious problems, the sight made him entertain the notion that one day, humanity could again be great.
"Did we really need the extra work to climb up here?" Allen asked, breaking the mood. "Now we'll have to go back down and around."
"Oh quit whining, it isn't that far. It'll only take a half hour more maybe. No big deal."
"Easy for you to say, Little Miss Tireless."
"To be fair to Allen," Lars said, "our joints do hurt a lot."
"Of course you'd side with him, you complain just as much! But fine, if both of you feel that way take an hour or so to rest here if you want."
While they sat there gazing over the city, he acknowledged the view was quite good. Watching the little dots that must be people moving around, peacefully going about their daily lives, proved soothing. When they finished their rest, they went on down. They approached the new-looking gate, likely a replacement for a destroyed one, and the helmeted guards up top promptly opened it for them. "Duchess Willow!" the older of two men called. "I see you've returned with much coin to pay the engineers and architects." So that was what it was for. Made sense. "Who are your companions?"
"This is Lars and Allen, seekers of knowledge." Worded better than Lars would have expected—and better than he probably would. "They hoped to find medical wisdom here, in the bastion of civilization, that they may not elsewhere."
"A fine purpose! I wish the two of you luck."
"Thanks," Lars said.
A few steps into the dusty city—though the ground being paved should have helped it be less so than most towns, the debris from nearby rubble balanced that out—Allen asked, "Willow? Aren't willows tall and thin? You're neither."
She shot him an irritated look. "My parents named me when I was a newborn. They couldn't have known how I'd grow up then. Oh, and fuck you. I'm tall enough to kick your ass."
"Not tall enough to reach a high shelf."
"Um, I'd just jump and grab whatever I need off it."
More people greeted her with bright smiles. "Duchess! The duchess has returned! Long live Lady Willow!" Lars recognized her popularity here to be quite high, though that wasn't exactly unexpected.
"Only a duchess?" he joked. "Thought you'd be a princess or something, being so high and mighty."
"What is that supposed to mean? It's not really that different. If Galantria had been an independent state instead of part of a larger nation, I could have been a princess."
"You're right. I like hearing you talk about such things. It shows a different side of you." For all she carried herself like a simple brute, she could be a thinking woman too.
"Thank you, I think." She produced a few coins from her belt pouch. "Here's three coins for each of you, for carrying those bags."
"Only three after walking all this way?" Allen asked.
"You were coming here anyway. You're lucky I'm paying you at all given how you slowed me down."
They passed by some laborers working on the skeletons of new buildings, and others removing broken pieces of masonry from the site of a destroyed one. "It's fine," Lars told Allen. "She needs the money to rebuild a home for her people, it's not like she's using all of it to buy overpriced garments."
"I do have some fancy clothes at home," she said, "but they're from before the war. I can't even fit into most of them anymore."
"So you did get bigger from eating the way you do."
She rolled her eyes. "I also wasn't fully grown back then. You are aware, people fill out when they reach adulthood."
"Did you fight in the war? I know you were just a kid, but being incredibly strong as you are, I'm wondering if even then..."
"I didn't. I wanted to, but we were isolated enough for my parents to convince me I needn't and things would blow over. It wasn't until the world fell apart around us that I realized how serious the situation was and had been all along." She bowed her head. "Maybe if I had lent my strength against the empire, it could have been stopped before getting to that point."
"It's not your fault, nor your parents'. You were very young, and their desire to protect you natural. You should just concentrate on doing what you can in the present."
"You're right, I know. So that's what I'm doing. Once this city is back on its feet and we're not struggling just to keep everyone sheltered and fed, then we'll start looking into what we can do for other communities nearby. And after that, hopefully we can continue to reach farther and farther with our helping hands..."
Knowing what a brutal killer she could be, it surprised him how idealistic a person she came off as. "I hope you can achieve your goals too. But regarding us, what should we do? I'd assume you have a lot of things to catch up on here as duchess, and us following you around everywhere might not be the most convenient arrangement."
"Nice way of saying you want to sit down on your butt and rest, lazybones!" She smiled. "Seriously though, it's insightful of you to consider that. I was thinking about the same thing. I'll set you up in the inn for now, and send somebody to guide you around the city if you want."
"That would be welcome." It'd be easier to begin searching for a cure if they didn't have to dive in blindly.
She guided them to the many-windowed inn and introduced them to the owner Sam, a short man with an unexpectedly booming voice. "I suppose you must be fine men if the Duchess asks you be allowed to stay without payment!" He handed them a key marked with the number eight. "Your room is upstairs. Tell me if you want anything to eat, and I'll have it brought up when it's ready."
The girl turned to leave. "It's already getting a bit late, so I'll send your guide over in the morning."
"Wait," Lars said. "I just wanted to ask, how should we address you from now on? Should we call you Duchess, Willow, or what?"
"You can keep calling me Cart-Dragger. I like the mysterious aura that name gives me."
"All right, Cart-Dragger. Be seeing you around."
"Yeah. Have a good rest, lazybones." He watched her walk into the setting sun.
Not much later Lars and Allen sat on soft if old beds in their room, eating the hearty stew they had ordered with bread. "We finally got to a proper city again," Lars said, "and not one overrun by cannibals like the last we saw. Soon we'll find a cure for your illness and things will be back the way they were before."
Allen bit his lip. "I hope so. I want people to look at me like a normal person again." He paused. "What were things like before, though? I can hardly remember..."
Lars felt sad, but to be honest he didn't remember all that well either. It'd been so long, he could only recall their past relationship in brief snippets. He thought he had a decent sense of what it was like in general, though. "You talked a lot more then. You had more confidence than me, and not just in approaching girls—although that was one of the things you took the lead in. It was you who convinced me to join the war effort as young men, and always propped me up when I thought I couldn't keep going."
"I'm the older of us, after all."
"Yeah, but it wasn't just about that. You had the more outgoing personality regardless of age, we were both practically adults. I was never one to take the initiative." Not until he had been forced to in any case, by Allen's inj
ury and the demands of the harsh new world.
"I kind of like you leading now," Allen said.
"That's probably because you can't remember well enough. Once you're your old self again, I'm sure you'll jump right back into your old role. And if not, at least you'll still be better with the ladies."
"Poor you right?"
Lars laughed nervously with him, but began to question his optimism for the future inside. Of course he still wanted to help his friend, but he wondered how much of the past they could really get back. Did he give Allen's condition too much weight in their happiness, and the state of the world not enough? Regardless, Allen would certainly be better off with his full mental capabilities than his current ones. They'd reach the goal he had envisioned for so long, and then decide their course on the road ahead.
#
Lars awakened to knocking on the door. "Who is it?" he yelled. Allen covered his head with his pillow while grumbling about him being too loud. "If you're delivering breakfast or something, we're not ready yet."
"Sorry if I'm too early," a high female voice replied, "but I'm not one of the staff. Willow—I mean the Duchess—sent me. If you don't want to see me yet, I could come back later."
He dragged himself out of bed and opened the door. A girl about the same age as Cart-Dragger, but more demure and innocent looking, stood there in a plain but well-made travel dress. "No need to make you wait," he said. "So you're the guide?"
"I'm Willow's fr—I mean the Duchess' humble servant Jen. Yes, she told me to guide you around the city as you request."
He sensed she was more anxious in his presence than he'd like. "We call her Cart-Dragger, so you should feel free to call her Willow."
She smiled. "I'm just more used to calling her Duchess in front of others. But if she's that open with you, I suppose I don't need to insist on formalities either. She prefers to be informal with people who she likes too, but we've learned to act a little more stern as a way to help keep certain folks in line." Lars knew what she meant. An air of authority by itself could discourage some dissent. Allen had been better than him at giving that off once, even though they were both just simple country boys. "Anyway, Willow said you were searching for something. Where would you like to go?"
"I'm not sure yet, but my friend is..." He described Allen's condition. "Do you know where in the city we might find knowledge on how to treat this?"
Jen didn't sound overly confident in her answer. "There are medicines sold at the market to treat a variety of ailments. Maybe one of them can cure him?"
They went to the square where a number of stands were set up. It wasn't really a bustling market as Lars had seen a couple of times during the war, the vendors sitting around in the wind waiting for potential customers, but being an outdoor market at all made it a rare sight these days. They skipped by a few merchants selling other wares before finding one who offered medicines. "What illnesses can your potions cure?" Lars asked the thick, rough-looking man of about fifty with a plethora of vials laid out on the blanket before him.
"What do you need curing? Tell me and I will find you something. There are very few things the elixirs of Yuri the Wise cannot help with." The man grinned.
"That's good and all, but I'd still like to hear what some of the things they can heal are." Jen and Allen seemed confused by the edge that came into his voice. He couldn't say he was jealous of their naivete, but it did probably make life easier to bear at times.
"Now now, don't be so uptight. You must have pain, is it not so? Try a taste of this medicine"—he tapped a vial of some green liquid—"and you will instantly feel the difference."
"Actually, pain isn't the problem."
"Then tell me what the problem is, and I'll give you the solution!"
He pointed at a random brown vial. "Better idea, why don't you tell me what that one does and its ingredients first."
"Um, well... it's a sleep aid, made with fall grass, sloth claws, er..."
"Does it include the fabled rabbitroot?"
"Oh yes, of course, it-"
Lars scowled. "No it doesn't. Rabbitroot was known for its energizing abilities, and would keep someone awake for a full day with but a taste. It would never be used in a sleep aid. Let's go," he told Allen and Jen. "There isn't anything of value here."
"My head hurt sometimes," Allen protested. "Maybe his potions could help."
Jen said, "I understand what you were doing now, testing him. I've seen Willow do similar 'calling a bluff' before. But how did you know so quickly he was a charlatan?"
"There used to be a lot like this in the old world. There may be fewer now, but their ways haven't changed much."
They found one other merchant who sold medicines at the market, an old woman who claimed to be a witch. Lars asked her where her ingredients for magic rituals were, and she replied they were in her bag. When after listening to her describe the miraculous efficacy of her remedies—made with "sorcery"—he asked her to demonstrate some of this magic for them, and she said she couldn't due to not having the proper components with her. He led the others away in disgust, and made a mental note to report her and Yuri to Cart-Dragger in case she wanted to do something about it.
"Are all medicine sellers charlatans?" Jen asked.
"There are surely some who aren't. But they probably don't make such bold claims... and I'd think many are practicing healers instead of street vendors."
"Now that you mention it, your friend's condition started with a blow to the head, correct? I remember hearing about a bone doctor who is pretty reputable, maybe he can help."
"If he's reputable, I suppose there wouldn't be any harm in giving him a try."
They visited the bone doctor, a sharp-looking man in his late thirties who worked out of his home and had fought against the empire. He examined the depression in Allen's skull, giving them a flicker of hope, but then shook his head. "The bone was broken, but has long since healed. The issue is not with it, but the brain underneath."
Lars was already inclined to view him favorably due to their common enemy in the past, and his honesty made him like the doctor more. "Isn't there anything you can do though, with your medical knowledge?"
"The brain is one of the great mysteries for those who practice the healing arts. There are some experimental treatments people have tried for injuries to it, but most have not worked consistently and are just as if not more likely to lead to death."
It didn't sound good, but he couldn't resist asking. "Like what?"
"Poking holes in the skull to air out the brain, sending blood worms up the nose in hopes of eating away disease, and hitting the head with a hammer to 'reset' it."
He imagined Cart-Dragger's hammer hitting somebody in the head and turning it into a fine red mist. "I'm sorry I asked."
They bid the doctor farewell, Lars thanking him for his candor. "So if his injury is beyond the bounds of conventional medicine," Jen asked, "what can we do for Allen?"
He didn't want to admit he was getting discouraged, but couldn't help it. Still, he tried to think of something to draw hope from. "Is there anyplace you know of where there might be 'lost' knowledge, perhaps not commonly accepted anymore, but which might yet hold merit?"
"Well, the library houses many books that contain old adages. But those are usually considered more as myths than knowledge."
"That's just about what I'm looking for. Take us to it."
They made their way to the squat, humble-looking library, the basement of which proved to be remarkably packed with books. "We'll never get through all this," Allen moaned.
Lars did feel intimidated glancing over the thousands of books which packed the musty old shelves. "We don't need to read everything in detail. Try to look for accounts of a person being severely injured and see if they are healed in some way we might be able to replicate."
They spent many hours searching for references to such before Jen found something relevant. "It says here that after being stabbed in the heart by his arch
enemy, the ancient king of Jiorgh was saved on his deathbed by being fed a piece of the sea serpent Esiel's core. Hmm, water elemental creatures are known to heal faster than others, and be able to regenerate lost body parts. Maybe if Allen ate a water elemental core, or part of one, he could be healed too?"
"That sounds promising," Lars said. "Where would we find a water elemental, though?"
Jen furrowed her brow in thought. "I think I've heard a small aquatic God Soldier has been sighted at the pond which used to be a lake a few miles from town. Since the pond isn't important to us, nobody has tried to kill it and people have just been avoiding the area. Maybe you could use its core?"
"But do we know it's really safe?" Allen asked. "It just says in a story eating that healed a man, but what if it's poison for real and kills me?"
"We'll test the core on an animal first to make sure it isn't poisonous," Lars assured him. "It sounds like you wouldn't need to eat the whole thing, though that might depend on size. I wonder if we'll need Cart-Dragger's help... Jen, how big is this 'small' creature exactly?"
"The rumors have it at between fifteen and twenty feet, but serpentine in form, and that's with the exaggeration common to these matters. It sounds quite small for a God Soldier, maybe it was transformed when young or made for stealth?"
Though it wasn't human, Lars felt a twinge of sympathy and shivered at the possibility of the former. Having the skin replaced with metal before reaching maturity, forcefully stunting its growth, sounded like unimaginable torture. "We couldn't do much against a thirty foot tall bulky God Soldier before, but I imagine a slender fifteen footer that lives in water would have much lighter armor. I think we could give it a shot without wasting Cart-Dragger's time by asking her to come along. Can you fight, Jen?"
She took a moment to respond. "I don't know. Willow has trained me a little and shown me some tricks, but I'm not sure how well I could pull them off in a real fight. Especially against some kind of monster instead of a person."
