Relias: Uprising (37 page)

 After a week of perpetual exhaustion, sleeplessness and starvation, the group approached Leramato, by their estimations approximately a day away. At this point, everybody had difficulty moving onward and had shed a good amount of weight. But now, on the night before their arrival and in spite of their disheartening conditions, the groups traveled with renewed zeal.

 The thick forest basked in the scarlet light of the setting sun. The shadows were sharp and long while anything that entered the sun’s light was cast beneath the fiery glow of dusk. Hendrick led the third group, his Infiltrator hanging loosely in his hand as he limped his way in and out of the orange glowing patchwork on the forest floor. Walking behind him surrounding Seraphine was Kristik, Pitt, and Sable, each keeping an eye out for any remaining Legionnaires that might have caught onto them. As the sky grew darker the Legionnaire activity seemed to die down though, making their journey at least appear to be that much easier.

 They had been travelling at a brisk pace for the entire day and had covered close to twenty miles of mountainous terrain, a feat which was starting to take a toll on Hendrick. He did his best to hide it, but in all honesty, the fact that Hendrick couldn’t help but limp his way along like a club-footed cripple made him feel like a complete pansy. His dad had always told him that. ‘Son, stop limping. Limping is just a way of complaining and if you do that then everybody’ll think you’re a complete pansy.’ Hendrick must’ve heard that a hundred times when he was a kid.

 It was all Frenz’s fault, that cheating tool. Using swords in a fist fight. But Hendrick should’ve known better or at least kept his distance a bit better. Tackling the man wasn’t the smartest thing he’d done. Not only did it get him an impaled leg but that was also probably the moment when he took his Blazers out of commission. He missed those things like crazy.

 Hendrick raised a hand and looked at it, expecting it to be shaking. As he did, there was a tap on his shoulder. Hendrick looked back, expecting Sable. Instead he found Seraphine, looking up at him with those enormous green eyes with a look that made it seem as though it took all her courage to come up and talk to him. Hendrick grinned warmly at her and motioned for her to walk beside him.

 “How ya hangin’ in there?” Hendrick said, patting her on the soldier as she moved up beside him.

 “I… well… hungry, I guess.”

 “Yeah… well I guess another juicy caterpillar is out of the question.”

 “I’m okay… But…”  Seraphine started, the reason of her approach stumbling clumsily from her mouth. She was a shy little thing. “That leg’s infected.”

 Smart little thing too. Hendrick shrugged. “It’ll be fine. If it doesn’t kill me then it’ll make me tougher.”

 “…But… but what if it does kill you?”

 Hendrick laughed, looking down at her. Her head was turned, almost in the complete opposite direction. It was a wonder she could even see what was in front of her. Her concern was appalling, especially for a girl who had absolutely no idea who he was. Hendrick said nothing. But looking down at Seraphine, Hendrick had no doubt that there was still a slew of things that she wanted to ask him and he knew she didn’t possess the courage to actually ask them. He’d help her along for now until she could open up.

 “So what’s the matter, kiddo?”

 Seraphine clasped her hands together. Her eyes were still averted. Hendrick placed a hand at the base of her head and turned it towards him.

 “It’s okay if you look at me.” He said with a chuckle. Seraphine didn’t return the amusement.

 “Now,” Hendrick went on. “What is it you’d like to ask me?”

 The eye contact made Seraphine uncomfortable and once Hendrick removed her hand it was clear that she struggled to maintain it. Eventually she looked away.

 “Heh, we’ll work on that later.”

 “…But Hendrick?”

 “Call me Nate.”

 Seraphine blushed. “…Nate… what about all those cuts on your face?”

 Hendrick put a hand on the crusty bandages that were scattered across his head and realized he was still pretty beat up. He looked quickly back to Sable.

 “How bad do I look?”

 Sable looked his face over and winced. It was all the explanation he needed.

 “Can we stop for a minute?” Seraphine asked him.

 Hendrick shook his head. “We can’t, darlin. Gotta keep up with the other groups so we don’t break-“

 “It’ll only take a minute.”

 Hendrick looked to his left towards a group of rocky cliffs where he knew Morlo’s group to be before turning back to check out his own group. After a moment of thought he sighed and raised his hand for them all to stop.

 “Hang in there everybody.” He said. Seraphine’s concern was touching but, at the same time, surprisingly annoying. He turned to her in a mixture of both admiration and aggravation at her persistent concern.

 “Alright,” He said while folding his arms. “What you want me to do?”

 With bashful hands Seraphine made a waving movement with her hands. “Sit… sit down.” 

 Everybody was watching. Hendrick smiled in complete confusion. “Okay…” He fell to his backside and winced as his weight temporarily fell entirely on his right leg. Seraphine nodded to herself.

 “I knew it.” She muttered. She began rolling up his pant leg. Hendrick shot backwards, the confusion on his face transforming into shock.

 “Easy, cupcake, if I’d known you were doin’ that I would’ve kept walking.”

 At Hendrick’s sharp withdrawal Seraphine retracted her hands and became shy once more. She pointed timidly towards Hendrick’s thigh. “I just… you have to-“

 “Have to what!” Hendrick said. “Sweet Nancy, just tell me what you’re doin!”

 “Just roll your pant leg up.” Sable said, cocking her hips impatiently. Hendrick looked up at her with renewed surprise.

 “You too?” Hendrick asked. When he was met with silence he went quiet. He looked between Sable and Seraphine and considered the situation. Hendrick couldn’t ever recall feeling uncomfortable, but if discomfort was the sensation he was experiencing then he didn’t like it: not in the least. But Seraphine was persistent, and there was no way a girl like her anticipated getting fresh with him, especially in front of the others. Hesitantly, Hendrick relaxed, sat back with a defeated but consenting look on his face and waved for Seraphine to continue.

 Her hands diffident, Seraphine took the hems of Hendrick’s pants and rolled them slowly upward. Hendrick shook his head and rested on his one arm.

 “I have absolutely no idea what she’s doing.” Hendrick said, speaking casually up to Sable. “I’m perfectly fine and there’s really nothing to wor- SON OF A BUZZARD BLOWING...!”

 Hendrick’s hand shot out and clasped Sable’s ankle. She jumped at the sudden movement and looked at his leg.

 Seraphine had the pants rolled up to his lower thigh and the issue became immediately clear.

 Hendrick’s pants stuck to his leg, glued there by dried blood and pus. Only a small portion of the wound was visible but the look on Seraphine’s face was a nervous one. She kept rolling the pants upward. Hendrick bit his fist as she did.

 “You’re pullin’ my leg hairs! Careful!”

 “Don’t be such a baby.” Kristik grunted while shaking his head disapprovingly.

 “I’ll kill you!” Hendrick said, shoving a finger in Kristik’s direction. “Say something else and I’ll kill you!”

 His pants tore away from the wound with a harsh ripping noise, taking hair, dead skin and blood with it. The edges of the wound stuck to the pants as well, stretching out until they broke the hold and went back to their normal shapes. After an eternal minute Hendrick, breathing hard, gave Seraphine a critical and angry stare.

 “You happy now!” He said.

 “Lay back.” Seraphine said, her voice urgent. She placed a hand on Hendrick’s chest and gently pushed him back. Hendrick swatted her hand away and tried to get up.

 “No! I’m not going to!”

 “Please!” Seraphine pleaded, looking back and forth between Hendrick’s face and the wound in his leg. “Just look at it!”

 Hendrick saw her concern and calmed himself down. After regaining his composure he looked up at Sable and saw her eyes. They weren’t even looking at him; they were glued to the wound on his leg. So were Kristik’s and Pitt’s. Kristik whistled, quite impressed. Hendrick had to get a look for himself. He readjusted his sitting position, sat up straight and took a look at his wound.

 A gash over five inches long ran from just above his knee towards his mid-thigh. It was as though it were pulling itself apart on its own; the surface of the wound was gaping while the inside looked like purple, rotting meat. The entire area around the astounding lesion, an area which nearly consumed his entire thigh, was purplish-black with a putrid green around its edges. Seeing that was actually a surprise to Hendrick. He thought that it was healing up but instead it looked like his leg was trying to eat itself. Like Kristik , he whistled in amazement.

 “Wow,” Hendrick muttered. “I’m the fricking man.”

 “These kinds of things get amputated.” Seraphine said, rubbing her hands together and looking around at the group.

 “Whoa!” Sable said, putting both hands over the hilt of her katana and stepping back. “I’m not doing it!”

 “I’ll be fine!” Hendrick shouted. “Don’t even
think
about taking my damn leg!”

 “We have to take care of this now.” Seraphine said, concentrating her eyes on Hendrick’s legs and raising her hands up towards the wound.

 Hendrick shook his head. “I don’t care! You’re not-“

 “Just lay back.” Seraphine said, placing her hands on the wound. She looked at Hendrick with a beseeching expression. “…please.”

 “Nate,” Sable said, walking up to his head and kneeling down next to him. “Calm down. She’s not going to chop off your leg.”

 “Then what’s she-“

 Sable put her hands on his shoulders and hushed him. She nodded towards Seraphine as a request for Hendrick to give her his attention.

 Seraphine was on both knees, her hands placed one on top of the other on top of the wound. Her head bowed and her eyes closed, she began to mutter something in a language Hendrick couldn’t understand.  

 The words were soothing, and Seraphine’s gentle voice uttered them beautifully. Without explanation, Hendrick felt his body loosen up while every muscle in his body relaxed. Hendrick listened to Seraphine and tried to make out what she was saying. As he tried, Sable’s head came down next to his ear.

 “She’s praying.” Sable whispered. “In Deche. She’s asking for guidance. For strength and…” Sable listened further, trying to remember what she’d learned about the ancient Durant language. “And asking that your leg’ll mend well, I think. She’s healing you, Nate.”

 “Healing?” Nate said, his voice loud. “I’ve never seen-“

 “Shh.” Sable whispered. “Not everybody prays out loud. Most Durants think of healing as a direct action from God himself. You’ve been around Luke for decades, you should know these things.”

 “I know that, I just have never seen it like-“

 “Quiet.” Sable said.

 The area around the wound began to glow a sapphire blue, starting at the edges of the bruise and nearly consuming his entire leg. Blue ribbons twisted and tangled inside and around the gash, illuminating Seraphine’s hands as she continued the process.

 There was a warm tingling that flowed through his entire leg, starting at his knee cap and stretching up to his upper thigh. His skin felt as though it were solid rock while the inside of his stab wound burned intensely, though it wasn’t a painful burn. It was a burning that Hendrick would have a difficult time describing.

 Watching the healing take place was almost mesmerizing to Hendrick. He’d had some bad wounds before but he’d never let anybody heal him; he’d always preferred traditional means. Yet there was something about Seraphine that he hadn’t encountered before. This healing process was different. With her doing it, it felt like more than just a way of closing a wound. Standing around Hendrick, Kristik and Pitt were awestruck. Never in their lives had they seen an actual healing, and seeing a healing such as this was something they wouldn’t soon forget.

 Inside the wound Hendrick could feel his muscles pulling themselves back together and tightening as though the wound had never been there. The brutal blackness around the wound began to withdraw as though the wound were sucking it back into itself, and the laceration itself  got smaller and smaller, closing up as though without any sign of there being a wound before.

 The glowing died down and faded into nothing, leaving the area darker than it had been before.

 The sun was almost below the horizon and stars were slowly revealing themselves all across the sky. Seraphine, heavily fatigued with her hands still on Hendrick’s thigh, continued praying, whispering the words in Deche.

 Hendrick felt no pain anymore, and neither him nor Sable had seen a healing quite like that. Not just in nature, but in skill. Looking down at his thigh Hendrick found no traces of the wound at all. Most healers- in fact, every healer he’d ever known- could heal a wound but left a scar because they simply accelerated the healing process. But whatever Seraphine did, she did what they could do but did it without scarring; a difficult thing to do.

 “Thanks…” Hendrick said, flexing his thigh and testing its strength. It far surpassed his expectations. But the amazement surrounding his newly healed leg was quick to flee as Hendrick realized they’d been immobile for almost twenty minutes. That was enough time for the other groups to get  several miles ahead of them. They had to move fast. Hendrick sat up.

 “Thanks for that.” Hendrick said. Seraphine motioned for him to stay sitting there. Hendrick pushed her hand down. “We have to go. We can finish up whatever it is you’re doing later.”

 Seraphine’s voice sped up. She finished up her prayer, balled her hand into a fist, kissed it, and placed an open palm on the area where the wound used to be.

 “Okay.” She said through her renewed exhaustion. She scooted up towards Hendrick’s head and reached a hand out. “Let’s hurry and take care of those.”