TravelingDreamer
patreon
B6—Chapter 48: Aftermath of Fire and Blood
🕑 Added 2025-07-01 13:14:23 +0000 UTCWhile I sat in the park, breathing in mana as fast as possible, a feeling of worry, or maybe concern, reached me through the connection in my mind. It didn’t have to say anything, or more precisely, send anything. I immediately knew. Al.
Jumping to my feet, I looked around, trying to figure out how to locate him. Right, the arm bracelet Malith made. I sent mana into it and got a vague sense of direction and a feeling that the closest description would be a turned-off light.
Definitely not dead. Unconscious?
Mahya was near the shot-down ship, crouched beside the hull, inspecting it and trying to figure out how it had flown. Rue stood beside her, tail swishing, using his nose and paws to help shift debris around.
“Mahya, Rue!” I called, raising my voice as I jogged toward them. “We need to go get Al.”
Mahya straightened and walked over, brushing her hands off on her pants, then waved her hand dismissively. “He’ll be fine, don’t worry. He has potions.”
“Check the bracelet.”
Her expression shifted in an instant. Her eyes narrowed, and she reached for her sword with a sharp intake of breath. In one smooth motion, she pulled it out and leapt onto it, rising with a burst of speed that made it hard to follow her movements.
“What are you waiting for?” she shouted, already climbing higher. “Come on, come on!”
We followed the pull of the bracelet across the river. The explosions still came, now only in scattered bursts in the north. Below us, the city was unrecognizable. It looked less like a place where people lived and more like something had torn through it with claws and fire.
Actually, the large stone buildings with the colorful domes held up better than most. A few had cracked walls or collapsed sections, but overall, they had survived the attack. The smaller stone houses didn’t do as well. Many were damaged, and a significant number were completely destroyed. The wooden ones suffered the worst. At least half had burned, reduced to charred frames and ash.
While we flew, smoke rose in sluggish columns from shattered rooftops, blurring the way ahead. Some houses had been hollowed out completely, nothing left but blackened ribs and smoldering beams. Others leaned at odd angles, their walls cracked open. The air reeked of burned wood, scorched stone, blood, ash, and Spirits know what else. It clung to the back of my throat and made my eyes sting.
We flew low, almost brushing the tops of buildings. Below, the streets were a mess of wreckage, collapsed stalls, broken tricycles, and shattered glass, catching the last of the light. Bodies lay scattered in the open, some curled in on themselves, others sprawled awkwardly as if they had simply fallen mid-step. A woman with blood running down her temple cradled a child in her arms. A man limped down the middle of a flooded alley, calling out names.
Water from the canals and aqueducts had spilled freely, pooling in the lower streets. Boats bobbed in the wrong places, bumping up against broken doorways and splintered carts. Chunks of stone blocked paths where bridges had collapsed, and a few buildings still burned, flickering against the smoke.
Then we reached the river.
Bodies floated face down, drifting between overturned boats and smashed crates. The current carried them slowly. A few people waded in, slipping on slime-slick stone, trying to haul the dead to shore. Some of the ones they reached still clung to wreckage, coughing up water and sobbing. Others didn't move at all.
Every time I looked down, my stomach clenched tighter. I wanted to stop. Every limp arm, every cry, every streak of blood felt like a hand tugging at me to land and heal, to do something. But I didn’t. Not yet.
Al came first.
We passed over a ruined square where a fountain had collapsed inward; the marble statue of some hero was shattered in half. It looked like a war zone.
Now I got the distinct feeling of a Traveler, coming from a gutted building near the end of the street. The roof had caved in, half the facade was missing, and one wall had split clean down the middle. I dropped lower and landed on what used to be a balcony, now nothing more than a pile of cracked stone. Rue jumped down beside me, sniffing the air, tail low and stiff.
Mahya landed on the far side, sword hovering nearby. Her eyes swept the rubble, and she gave a sharp nod. “He’s here.”
I climbed over a broken beam, then jumped down into the center of the wreckage. Dust puffed up with every step. Bricks, shattered tiles, and splinters of wood covered the floor. Chunks of stone leaned at weird angles, some barely held up by twisted iron bars.
Rue barked once and scrambled forward, sniffing under a slab of wall that fell like a lid.
Mahya was already beside me, crouching low, hands brushing over the broken pieces. “Be careful,” she said without looking up.
I nodded and got to work. I shoved smaller chunks aside with both hands, then switched to telekinesis for the heavier ones. The strain hit fast since my mana reserves were already low from healing, but I pushed through it. Rue used his front paws to dig and clear loose debris, occasionally grabbing bigger pieces with his teeth or telekinesis and tossing them aside, or helping me with telekinesis to lift the pieces that were too much for me. Mahya walked around and held various pieces while we worked, to prevent a total collapse. Every now and then, she stopped one of us with a quiet “Wait,” then leaned in to ease a piece of stone away like she was pulling glass from a wound.
Bit by bit, we cleared a few meters of rubble. Finally, I saw a huge body, motionless and sprawled across the floor. Naked. Muscles thick as slabs, skin covered with dust and grime, one arm bent unnaturally, and head twisted at a sharp angle. Broken neck.
Mahya froze for a moment, then let out a relieved breath. “Not Al."
I reached out and placed a hand on the man’s neck. There was no pulse. I looked past him and saw a patch of skin beneath his massive frame.
My stomach flipped. “There,” I said. “Under him.”
We worked faster now. More carefully, but faster. Mahya shifted to the other side, hands braced on the rubble to keep it from shifting. I wrapped both arms around the dead guy’s torso and lifted him. Al was underneath, crushed beneath the weight, limbs twisted, body smeared with dirt, ash, and blood. Naked, like the other one. Lines of blood trickled from his nose and head, and his face was pale, his lips slightly blue.
I dropped to my knees beside him and cast Diagnose.
“He’s alive,” I said, voice tight with relief. “Barely.”
I cast Healing Touch with what I had left, pouring it into him as carefully as I could. His chest rose a little stronger, then again. Next, Heal Bone. Bones shifted beneath his skin with quiet pops, bruises fading slowly. He had internal bleeding and a severe head injury, but spell after spell, he got better. Al gasped. His back arched slightly. Then he coughed, once, weak and wet, and his eyes fluttered.
“Easy,” I said, leaning closer and resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re safe.”
His lips moved, but no sound came out at first. His brow twitched.
Rue curled beside him, resting his massive head gently on Al’s uninjured arm. “Al okay now,” he said softly.
Mahya sat back on her heels with a quiet exhale, her hands smeared with blood and dust. She didn’t speak. Just watched Al breathe, eyes unreadable.
After another two spells, Al’s voice finally came, hoarse but steady. “Where is Renel?”
“The big guy?” I asked, brushing grit off his forehead.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, but he’s dead,” I said quietly.
Al closed his eyes, jaw tightening. “He shielded me with his body when a bomb struck the building.”
I gave him time, staying quiet and letting him catch his breath. His eyes stayed shut for a while, chest rising in slow, steady movements. When he opened them again, I leaned in slightly.
“Ready to move?”
Al nodded once, pushed himself up with a grimace, and brushed off the dust clinging to his skin. He cast Clean a few times, then reached for his clothes and got dressed in silence.
Mahya stood and dusted off her palms. “We’re getting out of here.”
I shook my head, turning back toward the ruined street. “No. There are too many injured people. We need to help.”
She crossed her arms, brow furrowing. “They have healers here.”
I gave her a hard look, heat rising behind my words. “So what? Did you see how many people are hurt? I’ll help, then we can get out of here.”
Al stepped beside us, pulling his shirt on. “I hope the teleporter is not destroyed.”
We started moving through the wreckage, one alley at a time. Al handed Mahya some potions and also gave them to the injured people. Mahya crouched beside anyone who was unconscious and poured the liquid carefully past cracked lips. I regenerated as fast as possible and kept my mana for the severe cases.
We found a boy no older than ten pinned under a collapsed cart, legs mangled, eyes wide with pain. Al shoved the debris aside and pulled him out while I stabilized his legs with magic. Mahya gave him water, murmuring something under her breath that made him smile through the pain. His mother tried to hand me a gold coin, pressing it into my palm. I pushed it back gently. Her eyes narrowed in confusion, but she didn’t argue.
Another woman, her face covered in ash and blood, tried to stuff a small jewel into Mahya’s hand. Mahya stepped back and pointed her to someone else we had just healed. “Give it to her. She lost her husband.”
More and more, it happened. Coins, trinkets, rings—people kept trying to pay us. Every time, we refused. And every time, they gave us the same look. Like they couldn’t figure us out. Like we were crazy.
We kept walking. Street by street, square by square. Every healer we passed had a line of people waiting and a small pile of coins or items next to them. They barely looked up, just healed whoever was next, took the payment, and moved on. One man in a green robe with silver embroidery actually stopped mid-spell when a wounded man couldn’t pay. He just stood up and walked away, leaving the guy lying there, clutching his stomach.
I stepped in without thinking, crouched beside the man, and cast Healing Touch. Warmth flooded from my hands into his abdomen, closing the gash inch by inch.
He blinked at me, then looked past my shoulder. “Why are you healing me?”
I glanced over. The green-robed healer who had been helping him earlier was walking away.
“Why did he stop?” I asked.
The man’s face twisted. “I can’t pay.”
I paused, then nodded slowly. “Good thing I’m not charging.”
He stared at me like I’d grown wings. “Truly?”
“Yeah.”
He looked away, voice dropping to a mutter. “I’m from the slums. They don’t heal us. We can’t pay.”
Mahya’s head snapped up. She exchanged a glance with Al, then pointed toward a smoke-choked street clogged with rubble. “We go that way. Toward the slums.”
From that point on, we ignored the people on the streets with healers. We stopped following the sounds of the wounded and just followed the path of neglect. The ones left behind were easy to spot: dirty and poor. Whole families crouched under makeshift shelters, bleeding and coughing, their eyes sunken and defeated. We stopped for everyone. A man with a crushed foot. A woman with burns on her arms and half of her face. A baby with glass in her leg.
Some of the other healers didn’t like that.
“What do you think you’re doing?” one of them demanded, stepping in front of Mahya. “You’re undermining the Guild system.”
Mahya didn’t even slow. Her fist moved in a blur and caught the guy on the jaw. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.
Al didn’t say a word. Just stepped over him.
Another healer tried to block me later on, a tall guy with gold trim on his robes and the smirk of someone who thought he was very important. “You’re making us look bad,” he said.
I looked past him at the coughing man he’d just walked away from. “You’re doing a fine job of that yourself.”
Mahya grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. “Ignore the idiot. He’s not worth wasting your breath on.”
We moved deeper into the city. The air was thick with the scent of smoke, ash, and sweat. People huddled together under makeshift canopies and in the corners of alleys. Blood stained the stones. Debris crunched underfoot. Al gave out the last of his potions. Mahya used her knife to cut away makeshift bandages. I kept casting spells and regenerating.
At some point, my red light started blinking, but I didn’t check. I was sure it was a new level, but didn’t feel like getting a reward in the middle of this hell.
In the middle of the night, we finished with the urgent cases. Mahya found us a half-ruined building without people. I opened my house, and we ate a quiet dinner, then went to rest. Tomorrow was going to be another hard day.
