Chapter 85: Ashes and Dust

Chapter 85: Ashes and Dust

Chapter 85

Ashes and Dust

Sylas stood on a terrace overlooking the castle's courtyard. It's been five days since the ruination, since the death and pain rampaged through. Hardly much has changed; there were still signs of a massive battle everywhere, from the toppled walls and chunks of the castle missing to the innumerable corpses--those of the people as well as the ghouls--forming morbid decorations.

The strangest thing of all, perhaps, was that it stopped snowing ever since the battle's end. Though it was still cold and awfully windy, with the ashen clouds covering the sky, it neither snowed nor rained. It was as though the heavens were apologizing, offering a reprieve.

He slugged down the remaining wine in the jug, looking away. Corpses were slowly being separated, those of men and women being stacked together for a massive pyre, while those of the ghouls were being burned immediately upon separation. Despite the beyond scarring event, people of the castle... limped on. Their resilience was immeasurable, bounding, to have watched their brethren fall one day, yet have enough strength to start cleaning up the damnation the very next one.

Sylas headed further down into the medical ward; Master Audin had been beyond busy for the past five days. Though there were many dead, there were just as many wounded. In fact, from what he heard, Derrek had already sent out the most able-bodied men into the nearby mountains to try and find any herb with even remote medicinal attributes.

In the meantime, the old man could barely sleep, needing to attend to so many critical injures--from massive punctures to missing limbs. On his way over, Sylas ran into Derrek--the man had, similarly, barely slept, trying to organize the best he could. After all, he was the only Captain remaining--all others have died.

Though pale in the face, and with a large lump bandaged over, he still appeared spirited. He was chatting with one of the few unhurt guards--mostly youngs who stayed further back and acted as the last line of the 'defense' for the castle's breach--relaying instructions. When he saw Sylas approach, he quickly dismissed the young guard and headed over.

The first batch came back, he said. Though the harvest was mild, they did pluck a decent amount. Should stabilize our supplies.

Good, Sylas nodded, his voice cold and distant. Latest count?

... eighteen more died during the night, Derrek sighed. Were down to fewer than two hundred.

Strip the dead of anything we can use, Sylas said. Before the pyre.

Sylas... Derrek mumbled, seemingly wanting to protest for a moment but holding back in the end. Very well. Ill let them know. Right--Valen woke up briefly this morning.

What happened? Sylas asked.

He... he wasnt well. Master Audin fed him some wollyseed, Sylas had learned that wollyseed was a fairly strong sedative that they, luckily, had in abundance since there was a patch nearby that spawned a whole heap of them on a yearly basis, despite it being a fairly rare and exotic medicine elsewhere in the Kingdom.

What about Ryne?

Still out of it, Derrek replied. Luckily, according to Master Audin, almost all of her wounds were quite shallow--after cleaning them up and dressing them, there was no need for further treatment. But... her eyes... they cant be saved.

... you should rest, Sylas said, glancing at him. Youre wasting your magic trying to keep the wound steady.

I cant rest. Not when--

Rest, Sylas warned in a harsher tone. Youll not do anyone any good dead. Enough have died.

Walking past him, Sylas headed down the chilly corridors toward the least destroyed area of the castle that was designated the 'medical ward'. It was its leftmost wing, just short of where Sylas first discovered the Shadow, as it was the furthest away from all fighting. Even still, on his way there, Sylas paused by a massive hole in the side of the castle--stone and rubble spilled inward, quite a few corpses lying just outside the hole--most of them men.

Glancing at them, he turned afoot and moved forward. Just past the corner, he saw many-a-woman rushing about hurriedly, most carrying either dirty or clean clothes and blankets. Luckily, there were quite a few unhurt people who stayed inside the castle, and they were all mainly in charge of taking care of the wounded. Even still, their numbers couldnt keep up comfortably with the sheer number of wounded.

With how busy they were, the women didnt even notice Sylas who stealthily wove himself by their side without interrupting them, heading to the Master Audins main office where both Valen and Ryne were situated.

Entering, a strong medicinal stench assailed Sylas nostrils. Quite a few young porterboys and women were shifting through the herbs and grinding them down along the several desks lined up against the wall, while the old man seemed to be making medicine in a maniacal haze of sorts.

Walking past them, Sylas came to a stop near a curtain; there was a faint opening and, beyond it, he saw Valen resting in the bed, lying flat, his eyes closed. Frowning for a moment, he looked forward once more and walked up to the old man, putting his hand on the frail shoulders. Master Audin jumped, but Sylas held him down firmly, causing the old man to look back.Updated from novelbIn.(c)om

No, we are fine. What about you? When was the last time you slept?

Last night, Sylas replied. After a few jugs of wine, I think.

...

"Oh, no, please, judge away," Sylas added quickly and honestly. "While everyone's trying to piece themselves together and save as many others as possible... therein the prophet lay--in his own piss, passed out like a common drunkard."

... nobodys blaming you, you know?

Thats because nobody believes I was a prophet to begin with, Sylas said.

...

But I was, he mumbled, looking toward the curtain beyond which the young Prince lay. And I failed him. Failed you. Failed all of those lying dead outside. I had an eternity to find a way. But I broke after, what? Seventy? Eighty years? Hah. If I had known... no, I cant make excuses. Its all on me, he added, glancing at her, his eyes vacant, expression dead.

Before she could reply, he walked off, leaving her stunned for a good while longer after the fact.

In the meantime, he parted the other curtain in the room, walking into yet another painful memory. To his surprise, however, Ryne was awake--sitting up on the bed, still. She flinched and tried to look toward the source of the sound, her lips quivering.

W-who is that?

Its me, Sylas said softly.

S-Sylas? Its... you? she asked uncertainly.

Yeah, he replied, walking over to the bed and sitting down. Her hands searched and ran across his neck and face, as though to confirm it. Does anything hurt?

... a-a bit, she mumbled.

... Im sorry, he said. You didnt deserve this.

... its scary, she said, her voice quivering.

I know.

But... we survived, she said. We survived the attack. Thats all that matters. Sylas gritted his teeth, awed. Though its scary... and its dark... as long as I have my life... I cant give up.

...

Ill find a way, she said, grabbing his hand and forcing out a smile. To be useful. So, please... just... just dont leave me. Ill be useful. I promise, her voice cracked, draped in desperation. It was harrowing, Sylas realized, just how terrified she was of loneliness. He couldnt quite grasp it, the source of the horror, not to mention that she felt she had to be useful not to be tossed aside.

"Don't worry," he reassured her, swearing inwardly he'd at least handily beat up the woman who instilled so many scars and insecurities into such a sweet child. "You just take your time and rest. I'll always be in need of an adorable and amazingly clever helper. And there ain't a soul in the world who can take that place from you."

... you... you promise?

Promise, he nodded, realizing it was pointless halfway through and freezing his head in position. Drink, he brought the bowl of water to her face, laced with wollyseed, and helped her slowly drink a few mouthfuls. Rest now.

... dont leave, she mumbled as she lied back down, grabbing his head ever so tightly. He remained, even after her fingers turned limp and after she fell asleep, looking at her. He was angry. He had been angry ever since he continued to live. But he didnt know what to do with it.

It was boiling like a lake of fire within him. He was angry with himself, with the world, with the dead, with whoever that hand belonged to... but mostly with himself. Yet, he knew that it wouldnt help him, nor anyone else. Its all fucked up, he sighed, standing up and leaving. I need to find Iun. And that human he talked to before the battle started. Hes the crutch. Iun should know who he is as well. I didnt see him in the battle; its possible he withdrew into the forest. I guess... thats where I ought to be too.