I awoke to the sound of chirping birds. The soft light of the morning sun shined through the windows of the wagon. I sat up, a blanket falling loosely to the side. As I folded the blanket, I felt a tender joy in my chest. It was a small thing but to me, it spoke volumes. The wagon was empty, so I slipped my shoes back on my feet and stepped outside.
The smell of smoke still lingered in the air. The wagon had not been moved and still sat in the center of the village square, but much had changed since I fell asleep.
Dozens of people moved with a hurried pace through the street. A large tent had been erected nearby. Inside, I could see cots filled with injured men and women. Many of them were unconscious. Given the severity of what I saw, some would probably never wake up.
I smiled as I saw my mother carrying a pale of water to the tent, and ran over to her and hugged her. “Mom! I am really hungry. Do we have anything I can eat?
“Wren, you are awake! We were worried about you. Are you ok?”
“Just really hungry. Where did dad hide the food?” I said, nuzzling my face into her shirt, savoring the hug for a moment.
“Second drawer left side of the wagon. Your father packed quite a few preserved meats and fruits for the journey.” My mother replied, setting down the pale of water before looking at me. She froze. “Wren… what…”
I smiled, unconsciously touching the right side of my face. I knew my right eye was shining with a blue glow just as my left shone with green. Two innate talents in one body were not supposed to be possible, but so long as I kept one contained within my eye, the two would never interact.
“I had a small crisis last night, but I am all better now,” I replied, hugging my mom even tighter.
My mom straightened my hair with a soft smile before returning my hug. “I am happy you are doing well. Now, take this pail of water to your brother before getting something to eat. We have a lot of injured here who still need our help.”
I nodded, quickly grabbing the bucket. Splashing some of the water on myself and on the ground, I ran over to Charly. He was sitting at the bedside of a small girl many years younger than me. Dabbing a burn on her arm with a green past, Donte spoke softly in an attempt to calm the crying child.
“Everything is going to be alright. Your parents are ok, they are sleeping right over there. You are a brave girl, and when they wake up, they will be so proud of you.”
I knelt beside the child and felt the power in my new right eye activate almost by instinct. I made a funny face, squeezing my cheeks and crossing my eyes. The girl stopped crying and let out a small giggle. While I distracted her, Charly finished applying the medicine and wrapped her are in gauze.
“Are you ok? What happened to your eyes? Did Aurielle fall asleep again?” Charly asked.
“No,” I said, shaking my head, and forcibly stopping the new ability with some difficulty, “We are both more awake than ever. To be honest, it is a strange feeling, but a pleasant one.”
“Good. We were worried sick last night. You were crying in your sleep and mumbling to yourself.”
“What… What did I say?”
“All sorts of things,” Charly replied with a big grin before raising his voice to a high-pitched squeak, “Donte, oh Donte!” He said mockingly.
“I did not!” I shouted as my face flushed bright red.
“That’s what I heard. I wonder what he would say if I told him?”
“Don’t you dare!” I screamed. I wanted nothing more than to knock that smug smile off his face. It took all my self-control to resist tackling him to the ground.
“Looks like I touched a nerve,” Charly said with a laugh, “Let’s make a deal. Help me treat the wounded and I promise not to tell him.”
“I was going to help you anyway,” I said with a huff.
“Then you do not have any problem getting that paste and helping me change bandages,” He replied, picking up the pale of water I brought him.
I grabbed the medical paste and after a few more soothing words to the small girl, we moved to his next patient.
While the girl’s burn had been light, this man’s was not. Half his torso was covered in discolored flesh. As Charly removed the bandages, I could even see bone from his rib cage. The flames cauterized the deep wounds, but that did not make them any less severe. The only solace was that the man was unconscious, and could not feel the pain.
“Charly… I do not think he is going to survive,” I said, looking at the horrible injury. Experience from years on the battlefield taught me that this injury would almost certainly be fatal. I had seen too many similar wounds not to know how it would end.
“You do not know that for sure,” Charly said as he applied the paste to the man’s injuries, “I am not going to give up on a single one of them.”
“What does this paste do?” I asked. “Do we have enough of it to treat everyone?”
“It cleans the wound and numbs pain,” Charly replied, “The town has a decent stock of it, so do not tell me to save it for the less injured. I know that is what you are hinting at.”
Seeing Charly’s determination, I knew there was nothing I could do to change his mind. There was no harm in treating the man, but I just did not see a point in it. The most we could do no was make his death less painful.
You are reading story The Immortal Calamity at novel35.com
Charly gripped the swab tightly and his hand shook as he applied the medicine. I placed my hand on his, and the shaking stilled for a moment.
His next words came out barely above a whisper. “Two hundred thirty-six… That is how many died in the attack. That is over half the town. There has already been so much death. If I can save even one person, then I have to try.”
I nodded silently, grabbing a swab for myself and helping him apply the medicine. Memories of the past welled up within me as I treated the wound. This was not the first time I regretted that my talent could not heal others. So many faces, gone forever, no matter how much I tried to help them.
It was said that a person’s innate talent was tied to their deepest desires. As a child, I had seen so much death. All I wanted was to bring them back, but that was not something any talent could accomplish. Instead, all I could do was animate puppets. They moved because I wanted them to move. They had personality because I gave it to them. They lived as an extension of me. No matter what I tried, truly bringing someone back from the dead was impossible.
“Is it always like this?” Charly asked, breaking me away from the dark thoughts clouding my mind, “In the Endless War, does it always end like this?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Is there no other way?” he asked, “Demonkin are said to be mindless beasts, but it is said the Demons that control them are just as intelligent as humans. Is there no way to negotiate with them? Is there no way we can end all this death?”
I chuckled at Charly’s naivety. “You think after a thousand years of war, nobody tried?”
“No, I just…”
“It is true that Demons can reason just like us, and many of them were human once, but that is where the similarities end. Demons despise humans with a passion unmatched by anything you can imagine. They have no concept of mercy, pity, or empathy. They are driven only by the one desire they managed to cling to when they were corrupted. That is all that separates them from Demonkin, a burning desire that they would sacrifice anything to feed.”
Charly finished applying the medicine as I spoke and began wrapping the wound in clean bandages.
“Then… the war will never end? The innocents have to continue suffering and dying simply because the demons decide they should? Is there nothing more we can do?”
“We can fight. Every Demon and Demonkin slain is one less that can attack the people like these, unprepared to defend themselves.”
“And how well has that worked? A thousand years of war, and what has it accomplished?” Charly asked.
“We survived.”
“but-“
“No,” I replied, cutting him off, “You do not understand how much of an accomplishment that is. There was a time when the number of humans left alive across all known realms could fit inside the city of Aktaio with room to spare. Back then, humanity was little more than rats hiding underground. If not for the heroes that fought for us, and carved a path forward with their blood, we would be extinct.”
“The church never mentioned that… was it really that bad?”
“The church does not like to dwell on those days. The Fourth Division had it worse than any other. When the war began, we were practically helpless. While Demonkin could be killed, true Demons were practically invincible. The Archdemon was a true horror that no one could fight against. everywhere it went, everyone died. Even the city of Tressa, founders of the First Division, was razed to the ground.”
“Then all we can do is keep fighting?” Charly asked.
“Yes, but if you do not want to stand on the front lines, there are many other ways to fight,” I said, finishing the bandages on the injured man, “You could become a doctor, treating the injured like this man. There are many Ninth Division techniques designed to treat injuries, though I hear they are extremely complicated. If you do not like that, you can become an explorer. Discovering new realms or doorways the Demons do not know about is integral to humanity’s survival. Research is always important in finding new ways to fight or help others. It can even be something simple like teaching a younger generation that will also one day stand against the Demons.”
Charly grew quiet as he picked up the supplies before moving on to the next injured patient. We treated that one in silence before moving on to the next.
“I never saw the price before. The stories always make battle so glorious and exciting. They never mention this,” He said, motioning to the injured in the tent, “Mom and Dad have always been so strong, and you… are you. How do you handle it all?”
“Everyone handles it differently. I focus on the victories,” I replied, “You said half the village was killed, but what I see is that we saved half the village. The Demonkin would have not left any survivors. I wish we got here sooner and saved more, but we did not know. We did all we could. I have no regrets.”
Charly grew quiet again as we treated the next patient. His next words came out as a whisper. “The man I killed in Aktaio. I still see his face when I close my eyes. The way he died, the blood… Do you still remember the first man you killed?”
“Of course.”
“Who was he?”
“No idea,” I replied with a shrug, “But I remember the event vividly. I will never forget it. Aurielle was only seven years old at the time. My teacher just raided one of the Corvus Empire slave camps. He captured the commanding officer alive. Bound and gagged, my teacher made him kneel then handed me a knife.”
Charly had his hand over his mouth as he looked at me with horror. “You… He… What kind of monster was your teacher?”
I smiled weakly. “The kind that expected results. For years that man haunted me. I wondered if he had a family. What if he had been forced to take that job or end up in the slave pits himself? Did he really deserve death?” I shook my head. “To this day I do not have an answer. All I can do is move forward. Despite how much I like to pretend otherwise, his death will forever be a reminder to me. War is not a game.”