TravelingDreamer
patreon
B5—Chapter 65: A Not-So-Peaceful Spring
🕑 Added 2025-03-11 10:21:59 +0000 UTCFinally, there were signs of spring. The torrential rain, which sometimes poured for days without a break, remained an annoyance, but the explosion of new flowers everywhere made up for it. More importantly, it meant that soon, the south would be free of those damned hail balls. We were ready to move on—just a few last tasks to wrap up before we left.
Al’s apprentices had reached the point where they no longer needed constant supervision, and Mahya’s woodworkers had also gained enough confidence to work independently. The new Magitech Engineer still hesitated now and then, but that had more to do with his personality than his actual skill. My two healers, on the other hand, were thriving. We even solved the Anesthesia issue.
No, I still couldn’t teach them the spell, but we found a workaround. Instead, they used the one-hour sleeping potion that Al had initially made for me to bring people out of Almatai. He had taught all his apprentices how to make it, ensuring a steady supply. Rima kept a standing order with them, requesting ten potions whenever she needed a restock, and they had an open-door arrangement at the clinic—no need to barter for anything.
The other issue we kind of solved was the blood problem. I had no idea how to create something to test for blood types, and neither did Mahya. That’s where Al came in with a helpful assist—a potion that speeds up blood replenishment by three times. The catch? The person had to drink it. Not exactly ideal if they were unconscious, and that might become a problem down the line. Still, it was the best option we had. I wasn’t entirely convinced, but I was the odd one out. Everyone else thought it was a great solution and went ahead and crossed the blood replenishment task off the list.
Of course, Al taught all the apprentices how to make it. It became another item they could trade with Rima, or use in three- or four-way exchanges with others. The people got healed and owed Rima compensation, which the alchemists could then collect for themselves.
New Sanctuary still hadn’t established a proper monetary system; everything relied on bartering. It worked—mostly—but it was a headache. A blacksmith might want wool, but the weaver needed grain, and the farmer was looking for nails. Every transaction turned into a long-winded negotiation, with favors and future promises tangled up.
I had had enough of it. “Why not just give them the coin crates we took from the castle in Almatai?” I suggested one evening over dinner to Mahya.
She froze, her hand tightening around the fork. “You want to just give it away?”
I shrugged. “It’d make things easier.”
“No way!” she almost shouted.
I sighed and shook my head. There was no point in arguing with her.
“We can keep ten crates and give them the rest,” Al suggested.
I shifted uneasily in my seat. There were nine left in total.
She turned, eyes narrowing like a cat about to pounce. “How much did you spend?”
"You're the one who gave me the list," I deflected. "And it was a big list."
Her nostrils flared. “John—”
I held up my hands. “Look, if it’s such a problem, you do the shopping next time.”
She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Her eyes narrowed further, but she didn’t argue.
I grinned. “That’s what I thought.”
* * *
Two weeks passed, and the rains eased, no longer drenching the world at a moment’s notice. If Mahya planned to retrieve her cart, now was the time. I brought it up over breakfast, and she nodded, already chewing over the logistics.
Before we could hash out the details, Rue's ears perked up. He lifted his head, eyes bright with something suspiciously close to excitement.
"Rue go with mini boss," he declared, tail swishing. "Rue need adventure."
I blinked. "You sure, buddy?"
A firm nod. "Yes."
Mahya smirked, nudging his massive shoulder. "Think you can keep up?"
Rue huffed, standing taller. "Rue best adventurer!"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Alright, have fun."
They left the next day. At first, I figured I’d wait for them to return before heading out on my own adventure, but I changed my mind. New Sanctuary was running smoothly. Five balloons were in operation, making three to five daily trips, ferrying people across. They still relied on gas since I didn’t have enough crystals to make the ones for Mahya’s gizmo, but I’d put together two pairs. We planned to run a few dungeons to gather more, but the weather stopped us so far.
I made arrangements with Al to stay with Rotem since I was taking my core with me. Then, I made my last rounds, letting everyone know I’d be gone for a few days. The settlement was steady, and everything ran as it should.
Roda and I sat in her office, maps and notes spread between us, hashing out the final details. She tapped a pencil against the desk, deep in thought, when the door slammed open. A guard rushed in, breathless, his uniform damp with sweat.
“They need John in the clinic,” he blurted.
I pushed back my chair. “What happened?”
“The balloons brought people over. They’re in bad shape.”
Roda shot to her feet, her chair scraping against the floor. “An attack?”
The guard shook his head. “No. They escaped from Almatai.”
Roda didn’t waste time with more questions. She grabbed her coat and headed for the door, and I was right on her heels. The guard set a brisk pace, his shoulders tense, leading us through the settlement.
Outside, the sky was dull with thick clouds, and the air carried the sharp scent of damp earth. People clustered around the entrance to the clinic, voices a low, worried hum. Inside, the sharp tang of antiseptic barely masked the sweat and blood in the air.
Over fifty people filled the space, some sitting on the floor, others propped against walls. Most looked gaunt, their clothes hanging off them like loose rags, faces hollowed by weeks—maybe months—of hardship. Their skin was marked with bruises and scrapes, some old, some fresh. A few had deeper wounds, bandages hastily wrapped around arms and legs, dark with dried blood.
Rima was already moving between them, giving orders to Evar. She spotted me and waved me over. “Start triage. Worst first.”
I nodded and scanned the room. A young woman with a deep gash on her leg shivered violently, her face pale. Beside her, an older man clutched his arm to his chest, the limb twisted unnaturally. Across from them, a boy—couldn’t be more than ten—sat staring at nothing, his lips chapped, his skin grayish.
Roda crouched beside a group of men, her expression sharp. “What happened?”
One of them, a wiry man with a swollen eye and split lip, exhaled hard. “Almatai’s a war zone. Been that way all winter.”
Roda’s brows pulled together. “I thought the fighting stopped when the new ruler took over.”
A second man, younger but no less battered, shook his head. “It did, but then he got himself killed in the middle of winter. After that, it started up again and hasn’t stopped since.”
An older woman, her face lined with exhaustion, added, “No one knows who’s in charge. Every few weeks, a new faction claims the throne. We couldn’t stay any longer.”
I cast Healing Touch on the woman’s leg and glanced at Roda. “Sounds like it’s not ending anytime soon.”
She exhaled sharply, scanning the room. “At least those people got out.”
It took most of the day to treat everyone. The process could have been quicker, but their severe malnutrition forced us to use healing spells sparingly. Rima and I cast Fortify Life Force on each of them, using healing spells only to treat the worst cases—deep cuts, broken bones, anything urgent. The rest needed food and rest before their bodies could handle more healing. Without the fortifying spell, Evar distributed food and water, ensuring everyone got what they needed to recover.
The next morning, I was checking on the last of the refugees when Roda found me. She stood at the clinic’s entrance, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
“We need to talk,” she said, her tone brisk but not unkind.
I straightened, wiping my hands on a rag. “What’s up?”
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “More people want out of Almatai. A lot more.” Her gaze searched mine. “Would you be willing to bring them here?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll do it.”
By this point, keeping my core a secret felt pointless—especially after the ritual that connected Roda to the wall. The whole settlement relied on magic now; hiding mine served no purpose. So, I invited her to dinner at my place. She arrived curious but unsuspecting, stepping inside with the usual calm efficiency she carried everywhere. Then she stopped short.
Her eyes swept over my living room and kitchen. “This…” She turned to me, brows drawing together. “This house—”
“Built around a core,” I confirmed, setting plates on the table. “Same as the wall.”
For once, Roda was speechless. She just stared, her usual sharp composure cracking for a moment. Then, with a slow breath, she pulled out a chair and sat. “Alright,” she said, voice steadier now. “Explain.”
I leaned back in my chair, watching her expression shift between curiosity and disbelief. "There's not much to explain," I said, tapping my fingers against the table. "This house is built around a core, just like the wall is attached to its core. The difference is that mine is larger and more developed." I gestured around us. "That gives me more flexibility. For example, when I close the house, it folds into the core, and I can store it."
Roda blinked, then looked around again, as if seeing the house with new eyes.
I continued, tilting my head. "Over the years, the wall’s core will develop too. It’ll grow, change, and eventually, you’ll have more options. But I wouldn’t recommend folding the wall into the core. You need it standing in place."
She snorted, shaking her head. "Yeah, I have no intention of doing that." A grin tugged at her lips as she leaned back. "Imagine trying to explain to everyone why the wall suddenly disappeared."
After dinner, I led Roda out of the house. She followed, arms crossed, eyes sharp with curiosity.
“Alright,” I said, stepping back from the opening. “Watch this.”
With a pulse of intent, I activated the core. The opening against the wall shrank, folding in on itself with smooth, deliberate precision. In less than two minutes, only the core remained, resting near the wall like an unassuming glowing basketball.
Roda stepped forward, staring at the space where my house had just been. “That’s… unsettling.”
I smirked. “Wait until you see it open.”
Another pulse, and the house unfolded effortlessly. The opening expanded as walls, furniture, and everything inside solidified back into place, as if it had never moved.
I turned to her. “That’s how I moved people before. They step in at Almatai, I close the core, and bring them here. Don’t worry—nothing happens to them inside. It creates a sort of dungeon dimension or something.”
She exhaled, shaking her head. “And here I thought the balloons were impressive.”
I laughed. It was nice not to have to hide things.
For the next three weeks, I flew to Almatai every evening, setting out just after sunset. Various people volunteered to join me, taking turns on the runs. Each night, I dropped them in the same alley we’d used before, a narrow, shadowed stretch of stone tucked away from prying eyes.
After the drop-off, I caught a few hours of sleep, before heading back just before sunrise to pick them up—along with all the people they gathered to bring out. Some nights, we managed only thirty or forty people. Other nights, the numbers swelled past a hundred. Each trip carried the same tension, the same quiet urgency. Every face was hollow with exhaustion, every step uncertain, but they followed, trusting that whatever lay ahead was better than what they were leaving behind.
During the day, I worked in the clinic, treating the ones we’d brought over. Most suffered from malnutrition and exposure, but some had deeper wounds—broken bones, infected gashes, old injuries left untreated for too long. Among them was a healer named Raisa, her thin frame wrapped in layers of tattered cloth, her hands trembling from exhaustion. Once we got her back on her feet, she wasted no time joining us in the clinic, working tirelessly to help the others recover.
We had brought out over two thousand people by the time it was over.
Not long after, Roda found me in the clinic, standing just inside the doorway with her arms crossed. Her gaze was sharp, the kind of look that meant she’d already made up her mind about something.
I finished healing my patient, casting Clean on both of us before straightening. “What’s on your mind?”
She didn’t waste time. “Would you be willing to do the same for Almadris?”
I met her eyes, let out a slow breath, and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll do it.”
Mahya returned the next day, practically bouncing as she strode into the house, eyes alight with excitement. “You would not believe the idiots who tried to attack me,” she announced. “Absolutely pathetic.”
Right behind her, Rue trotted proudly, tail wagging. “Rue helped!” he declared, puffing up his chest. “Mahya and Rue take all their stuff!”
I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, smirking. “Sounds like a good haul.”
Mahya grinned, dropping things on the floor with satisfying thuds. “Besides my cart, we got two wooden cooling units, five metal surfaces that work like hot plates when you pour mana into them, and—” she gestured grandly at a wooden tub she dropped, “—this beauty. Self-filling, self-heating, self-cleaning. Just add mana.”
I let out a low whistle. “Fancy.”
“And,” she added, pulling a sleek blade from her Storage, “another flying sword.” She twirled it between her fingers before tucking it away.
Rue’s tail thumped against the ground. “Mahya best adventurer! Rue best adventurer helper!”
Mahya ruffled the fur on his head, laughing. “Damn right we are.”
The two of them were practically glowing with satisfaction, their excitement infectious. I shook my head, chuckling. “Remind me to never bet against you.”
Rue shoved his head under my hand, demanding ear scratches. “Rue adventurer hungry!”
Yeah, no surprise there.
For the next two weeks, I ran the same rescue missions in Almadris as in Almatai, bringing even more people out. The only upside was that they were in slightly better shape than the ones from Almatai—not by much, but enough to notice. They were all malnourished, but at least there were fewer injuries.
With that done, I had one last thing to take care of before we could move on. Hopefully, the next world we found would be good, somewhere nice for a change.
Comments
brennon Petersen
Tftc!
