The other survivors scrambled out of the way as Kieran pushed past them. The bear-man tried to object, but by the time he even opened his mouth, Kieran was already kneeling by the wounded man.
The three large gashes in the man’s sides were bleeding profusely. The patient was deathly pale. Blood had already soaked through his clothes. He looked up at Kieran with fear, his eyes thoroughly bloodshot, but said nothing. Whether he was too weak or afraid, or simply didn’t care to speak, Kieran couldn’t tell.
And it wasn’t important. All that mattered was that this man was dying.
Kieran’s medic training kicked his mind into overdrive. He rapidly went through every possible treatment and scenario to stop the bleeding before it was too late, but it was no use. Aside from getting the man on a surgery table with a full team, Kieran didn’t see how he could survive under normal circumstances.
Yet these were not normal circumstances. Kieran had a new trick up his sleeve since his time as a surgeon and medic.
Gently, Kieran placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, then focused on Mend. He channeled all of his intent into pushing the energy outwards, aiming it at his patient.
Energy surged from his wrist and directly into his target.
The bleeding man shivered, clearly feeling the cold of Kieran’s spell the instant it took effect, but he calmed quickly. The wounds closed rapidly, as if being stitched by invisible hands. His shallow breathing stabilized shortly after.
The rest of the group looked on in baffled wonder as the man stood up and checked himself over. He was still slightly shivering, but a smile spread across his face as he looked at Kieran.
“Thank you, stranger. Thank you!” He fell to his knees, hands clasped in front of him.
“No need for that,” Kieran replied, already scanning the rest of the survivors for any other injured people. “Everyone else with minor wounds, please step forward.”
Before anyone could move, however, the bear-man strode up to Kieran.
“Wait,” he growled, raising his sledgehammer in a ready stance. “Who are you and how did you find us?”
Kieran faced the bear-man coolly, his voice as calm as his expression.
“Kieran Hall, Chosen Contender of Death.”
The survivors immediately began murmuring to each other. Kieran caught the doubt in their whispered tones. Despite his defeat of the skeletons and his demonstration of healing prowess, it seemed that the mere mention of Vahr’Khul was enough to cause suspicion.
Ignoring the murmurs, Kieran held the bear-man’s gaze. “As for the other question, Darrick sent me. He was worried about you lot when you didn’t arrive on time.”
Kieran flashed the necklace Darrick had given him. The survivors had already relaxed upon hearing Darrick’s name, but seeing the symbol in Kieran’s hand seemed to remove all doubt. Even the bear-man lowered his weapon, the massive sledgehammer shaking the ground slightly on impact.
“So… the others are safe and sound?” the bear man asked.
“Safe as can be. They’re settled in on the peak," Kieran confirmed. His eyes had already returned to their scan for more injuries. “Now come. Even the smallest wounds can get infected, so let’s get the healing done before anything else.”
Without further objections from the bear-man, the survivors gathered around, allowing Kieran to heal them each in turn. Even the bear-man begrudgingly accepted the help.
After he was certain all wounds had been fully healed, Kieran allowed himself a quiet sigh of relief. Then he addressed the group.
“We shouldn’t linger. Come, I’ll escort you to the peak.”
None of them complained. They all followed Kieran closely as he started down the path, back the way he had come from.
He led the survivors back to the cathedral first so they could retrieve their lost supplies. The group was rather excited to get their hands on their belongings again, and rightfully so. Kieran understood the value of familiar possessions in a time of war. Then there were the simple practical concerns. Considering the state of Lyruna, it wasn’t hard to imagine that everything was difficult to come by,
While the survivors were busy gathering their things, Kieran approached the statue of Gir’Amal. It had returned to its original position, as if nothing had happened. Though he scrutinized the statue for several minutes, watching for any sign of movement, Kieran spotted nothing strange.
Eventually, the group’s belongings were gathered. They were ready to move on. Still, the statue showed no hint of ever having moved.
A little dissatisfied, Kieran turned away to lead the survivors from the cathedral.
—
The journey to the mountain’s base and up the Queen’s Promenade went without incident. With Kieran taking point and the bear-man following closely behind the group, hammer resting on his shoulders, the rest felt confident enough to chatter away while they travelled.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
It was hushed whispers at first. Most of them were clearly still on edge around Kieran, and he couldn’t blame them. As they travelled on, however, they became more and more confident. By the time they reached the Queen’s Promenade, a few of the survivors were even cracking jokes and humming tunes.
It was when they were entering the promenade itself that Kieran felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see the bear-man looking down at him.
“You claimed already that Darrick asked you to help. But why are you really helping us?” the bear-man asked bluntly.
Kieran’s expression remained unchanged. “It felt like the right thing to do,” he replied. “Besides, why shouldn’t I?”
“The stories of previous Death’s Contenders all paint them as lunatics.” The bear-man’s face was contorted with anxious doubt. “Eccentrics who care little for anything other than killing. So why should I trust you?”
Kieran turned to lock eyes with the bear-man.
“In my time working closely with investigators, I learned two things,” he said calmly. “First, most stories are unreliable, especially if they come from eyewitnesses. Second, assumptions are dangerous.”
The distrust on the bear-man’s face was replaced by confusion. He tore his eyes away and gazed into the distance for a moment. Then he fell back to his original position, leaving Kieran alone at the group’s front.
A short while later, the entrance to the Eon’s Peak settlement came into view. Two figures waited at the arch. Even from a distance, Kieran immediately recognized them as Rah’Na and Darrick.
Darrick started shouting as soon as he spotted the group. Kieran couldn’t pick up on the exact words, but he could guess what was said when the rest of the refugees appeared and ran down the Queen’s Promenade.
The group following Kieran broke their formation as well, running ahead to meet the rest. It was clearly a long-awaited reunion. The refugees embraced each other, expressing their relief and exchanging stories right there on the promenade.
Several of them broke from the group and approached Kieran, pushing their fear aside to thank him for saving their friends or family.
Out of nowhere, a new feeling crept into Kieran’s heart. It sort of resembled the joy he experienced whenever he learned something new, but it was different. This was… warmer. So warm, in fact, that it threatened to break his perfected visage of neutrality with a kind smile. It was definitely something he had never felt before.
He didn’t know what to think of this feeling.
Eventually, through tears of joy and laughter and the chatter of shared stories, the group started moving into the settlement. Two figures brought up the rear, falling a good distance behind the rest.
“Well done, Kieran,” Rah’Na said. The two strolled casually side-by-side while the survivors flooded into the settlement. “This will be a big step in getting them to trust you.”
“Doesn’t matter if they trust me or not. They’re alive. That’s what counts,” Kieran shot back.
Rah’Na turned towards him with a wolfish smile. “And to think I considered you emotionless,” she teased, poking Kieran in the side with her elbow.
Kieran cleared his throat pointedly. “Not emotionless. Just… very good at controlling my emotions.”
Rah’Na simply laughed and shook her head. As the two continued their slow pace, the sounds of instruments being tuned floated through the still evening air from deeper in the settlement.
“I hope you can sleep through some noise, Kieran,” the old wolf said, a current of joy running through her customary growl. “It seems we will have quite a celebration in the settlement tonight.”
Kieran shifted his gaze to the sky. By his estimate, it would be another hour or so before the sun fully set. “Hmm. Maybe I should take a nap now, before it all begins.”
“Or you could help them with setting things up,” Rah’Na suggested. “Get close to the regular folk.”
Kieran looked down, fixing his eyes on the ground in front of his feet. “I’m… not good with people, or crowds. So I’ll pass.”
“You keep claiming that you’re not good with people,” Rah’Na observed, carefully keeping her eyes on her surroundings instead of on Kieran. “Yet look at you. This is the second group of people you brought here, and you persuaded the servant of your patron's rival to come with you as well.”
“Luck and circumstance,” Kieran replied, pressing a hand against the hilt of his sword. He had grown so used to the position over the past few weeks that it gave him comfort even in normal scenarios.
“Regardless, once again: well done.” Rah’Na turned her attention fully to Kieran, her smile replaced by a serious expression. “Now, if you intend to get some rest, you should. Tomorrow, I intend to finally run you through some training.”
Kieran’s eyes snapped up to meet the old wolf’s. “Really? Good. I’ve been wanting to ask you to show me some things. Oh, and I have questions about some monsters I faced.”
Rah’Na raised her hand. “As I said, tomorrow. Now is the time for celebration.”
“Of course. Actually, that’s for the best. It gives me more time to organize my questions.”
Rah’Na simply chuckled in response as the pair made their way into the settlement.
Perhaps the survivors really were starting to trust Kieran. Or perhaps they were too busy preparing for the night’s celebrations. Either way, they didn’t give Kieran any suspicious glances, or shy away from him, or quiet down their conversations when he passed.
He found himself strangely glad at the realization. During his time as a surgeon and as a medic, trust had always been a given. He never thought that earning someone’s trust could feel so… good.
When the pair reached their shared home, Kieran decided to sit with Rah’Na for a while before going inside to rest. From their seats beneath the awning, they were close enough to watch the preparations unfold, but far enough that the crowd’s din wouldn’t bother them.
Soon enough, though, Darrick split from the buzzing crowd and approached them.
“Kieran! I… I can’t thank ye enough,” the dwarf exclaimed while still several steps away. “They told me what you did. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank ye.”
Kieran allowed himself to smile, giving the dwarf a nod. “Of course. But please, enough with the thank yous. I… never know how to respond properly.”
“Hah! Aye, fair enough.” Darrick grinned, coming to a stop only a few feet in front of Kieran. “But, I wouldn’t feel right about this without givin’ somethin’ in return.”
“Don’t worry about that, Darrick. Your skills as a smith have already been very useful to me, and will continue to be so in the future,” Kieran assured him.
Darrick rubbed his chin for a moment, but eventually nodded. “Aye, that works. In that case, I’ll leave ye to yer rest. There are still preparations to make.”
A comfortable silence settled between Rah’Na and Kieran as Darrick walked away. It wasn’t long, however, before exhaustion began to drag at Kieran’s eyelids.
Thinking back over the day’s events was staggering. The night before had been consumed by the vision in which he battled Fahn’Ir. Since waking that morning, he had journeyed to the vault with Rah’Na, paid a visit to Alaric, and journeyed far to retrieve the survivors, with fighting and healing along the way.
“Well…” Kieran stood slowly. “I suppose I should retreat to my room then. And tomorrow: questions and training.”
“Indeed. Rest well, Kieran,” Rah’Na called after him as he entered the building.
Weariness hung around Kieran’s muscles all the way to his room. The sight of his bed only served as a stark reminder of just how heavily the day had affected him. Yet, when he dropped his pack and sat on the bed, the exhaustion suddenly seemed to fade.
His eyes turned to his pack, and curiosity leapt to the forefront.
One corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile.
“Perhaps a little research first…”