Section Seven: Familiar Agony
"Ruined."
"Are you sure?" Slippy asked, looking over Fox's shoulder.
"Positive." Fox sighed, wincing as his back throbbed. The dragon had managed to take several slashes out of the back plate to his armor, scratching his back as well. Now back in his normal clothing, sitting on the ground at their cold campground, he was able to more closely study the damage. "It'll have to be replaced. Most of the suit will have to be replaced because of acid damage…"
Bill sat down beside him, looking at the ruined back plate. "At least we're all alive and relatively well." He remarked.
"And nearly out of the Black Forest as well." Julian added, looking up from a map. "Another day, and we should be on the edges of the Forest."
"Thank Fharlanghn." Said Falco reverently, shaking his head.
"We might have to come back on this path to return." Fox remarked, and a chorus of moans rose. "But I'm not sure. We shall have to see where this journey takes us. For all I know, we may end up in foreign lands."
"May? I dare to say that we will. On a quest like this…" Peppy shook his head.
"I hope so." Alan said cheerfully, scribbling in his shorthand maniacally. "I do hope so…"
"Speaking of which, did you finish translating that map, Fox?" Katt sat down.
Fox pulled out his map and altered it to the one in question. "Nearly. It seems that the item at this temple is a key of sorts, but… it's not only a key." He tapped a passage meaningfully. "The passage is a bit cryptic, but it's enough to infer that this artifact we're going to need is powerful in its own right."
Julian peered at the map over Fox's shoulder. "How long are we going to be in the Wastes?"
"Not certain. Five, perhaps six days, perhaps more." He shook his hand, passing the map to Julian. "It all depends on how fast we are able to travel."
Katt, seeing Falco wince, stood and walked over to him. After a minor debate, he shed the cloak and opened his tunic, rolling his eyes as she undid the bandages done not long ago.
"Healing well?" He asked.
"Not really. We're going to have to take a rest in a town, Fox." She looked toward their leader.
He held up his hands. "Right now, I won't argue, I look forward to staying in an inn."
Everyone looked at him.
"You got hurt when the dragon hit your armor, didn't you?" Katt put her hands on her hips.
"Mildly. It's nothing serious, so don't dwell on it." He stood and stretched out, lifting his hand to allow Osiris to land. It was now late afternoon, and Slippy had a floating, smokeless fire cooking food for the group—everyone was tired of having to set up a cold camp, so he had come up with a solution. "Besides, I think everyone here is hurt in some way."
There were nods all around.
"If we manage a good pace tomorrow, we'll be out of the Forest by nightfall." He sighed, looking at Julian. "Since we have time, do you want to attempt to continue your training? I'm aware neither of us are in the best shape, however…"
"It'd probably be wise." Julian stood, rolling and returning the map.
They paced away from the group, and slowly went through a series of stretches, warming up already sore muscles, then through beginning moves, falling back into the routine of training.
The rest of the group went about their business, listening to the clang of sword blades absently, eagerly digging into their first hot meal in a while. Discussions eventually rose, and Falco brought out the jewelry and coins they had taken from the dragon's hoard, discussing what the items were probably worth. By his estimate, they would be able to travel well for another few months without problems, but other issues had arose, such as Fox's ruined armor. This was discussed as well, and eventually Slippy took a closer look and agreed that the armor was completely and utterly ruined.
Fara eventually left the circle and quietly walked down the path to a point where she could sit and watch Julian and Fox. They weren't training particularly hard, but she knew both were still hurting from the battle with the dragon.
After a time they ceased their practices, exchanged a bow, and returned to the campsite, her standing to pace them.
'How badly hurt are you Fox?' Fara cast a side glance at him.
'I told all of you not to worry about my wounds.' He responded, accepting a bowl and sitting. Osiris fluttered over, and Fox somewhat obediently passed his familiar strips of meat as he ate.
'I think I'm allowed.'
'Only a few minor grazes on my back.' He seemed to shrug.
She remained somewhat unconvinced, but stopped questioning him about it.
Everyone retired early that night.
"They must be having a hard time traveling through here." Leon remarked, glancing around at the black forest that surrounded his party.
"Yes, especially since many of denizens here would side with us, not with them." Pigma had to grin. "I do believe there is a dragon that lives here as well…"
"I am afraid that is the wrong tense. There WAS a dragon here that was respectful of Hextor." Wolf interrupted. "Our 'friends' found where he was keeping his treasure, and he fell in the ensuing battle."
There was silence for a moment.
"But we are closing in on them even now. They've had to stop for all of this day because of their wounds." Wolf smiled a bit. "And if I am correct, they will have to slow down even more in the future."
"Hextor is actively helping us?" Leon tilted his head.
As much as I am able at this time.
Leon and Pigma both jumped, Wolf only smiled. "Thank you, Lord."
There was no reply, but Wolf knew that he had been heard.
Fox's convoy didn't move out at daylight, as they had fallen into the habit of. It was in fact a few hours after that they finally got moving, wounds healed as best as their drained magic users could manage.
As the day progressed, an increasing amount of light managed to filter through the leaves above them, and the suppressing effect that the forest had on their voices seemed to lessen as well. Alan almost instantly took advantage of this and started singing through the ballad he was working on. Fox, though a bit flattered, moved a little farther ahead while on point then he usually did.
The sun had started its descent when Fox stepped out of the forest and onto a country road, looking out over a rather large field. He sighed to himself, crossing his arms and watching the sun set, as his convoy slowly issued out beside him, also watching the sun continue its slow plunge to the horizon.
"There are one or two small towns, then a stronghold, then we will enter the wastes." Said Julian. "If we do not dawdle, we may even be able to stay at an inn this night…"
"I am just happy to see stars again." Fara replied tiredly, and everyone seemed to agree.
"You lead us from here, Julian." Fox said, twisting to look at his apprentice. "You have obviously traveled through here."
"You've led us so far." Julian protested even as he urged his steed forward.
"I only led us in the Black Forest because I have experience as a ranger, and even then…" He trailed off with a sigh. "No, you lead for now."
Julian nodded, watching as Fox backed his horse up, and took a leading position, starting the convoy moving again. The others fell in behind him, watching the wind whisper over wheat and tall grass, rather quiet at first, then Alan burst into song, this time one of the more popular travel songs, and one by one, almost everyone joined, riding into the first town at a trot.
The innkeeper, still awake, was willing to allow them to stay the night, and they took almost every room he had available. He watched in a state of amazement as the bedraggled group trudged in, saddlebags thrown over shoulders, packs heaved along.
"Hard time traveling through the forest, then?" He finally asked.
Peppy, who was paying him, looked at him. "Dragon."
"You were very lucky to escape then!"
"I didn't say that we escaped." Was the simple reply, and Peppy provided no more information.
"It'll probably take less then a day to travel to the stronghold, and we can fully restock and rest there." Julian said, pacing Fox up the flight of stairs to the rooms.
"Good. Hopefully no one will ask too many questions." Falco remarked, already up the stairs, leaning on the doorframe to his room and watching the others come up the stairs. "This is a rather awkward thing to explain."
"And we should avoid discussing it." Fox said tiredly, opening the door to the room he was going to use. "Because if we are working to bring the world back to balance, there is more then likely going to be a force trying to take the world out of balance that will be more then willing to try to stop us."
"According to the innkeeper, a harvest festival starts tomorrow for the local towns." Said Alan happily.
"We will hopefully have good morale, then. God ye good eve, everyone."
Doors shut up and down the hallway, but almost no one was able to immediately retire. Many had to undo bandages and check on wounds. Fox himself took the chance to see just how bad his wound was, and was in the process of meditating and building power to heal the wound when there was a tap at his door. Sighing and shrugging back into his tunic, he opened the door slightly, then fully when he saw Fara standing there.
"If you're going to heal that, you may as well let me clean it first." She said bluntly, carrying a bowl of water and a few towels.
He sighed and let her in, closing the door behind her. "This is becoming a bit of a habit."
"The last thing we need is you getting a horrible infection because one of the wounds you won't tell us about wasn't cleaned." She sighed, making a twirling gesture in the air with one finger. "Well, let me see it."
He bit his lip, then sighed and shook his head, turning his back to her and slowly untying and shrugging out of the tunic, letting her look at his back. "The wounds aren't bad."
"Bled quite a bit though. I don't know how we didn't notice." She shook her head, pressing on one of his shoulders to make him sit on the floor, then kneeling and running one of the wet towels over his back.
"My undershirt acted like a bandage of sorts, and soaked up the blood." He sighed, reaching up and pulling his long hair out of the way. "This is a bit awkward…"
"Perhaps, and I suggest that you get used to it." She snapped, rinsing and wringing out the towel. "You can stand the breech of your etiquette for five minutes, can you not?"
He winced. "Sorry."
There was a long pause.
"Is something wrong?" She finally asked.
"No."
"You can't lie to me, Fox."
He sighed. "I know. Just musing on our last battle, I suppose."
"You blame yourself for all the wounds, don't you?"
"Yes I do. I should have laid out a more solid plan before we went charging into battle…" He shook his head.
"We all survived, Fox. That's what really matters."
"More true then not, however… I get this feeling that the other members of our party are beginning to believe the ballads that Alan sings."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not a legend; I'm not a great warrior, or immortal. I am just a man, a mortal man. I can and will die." He shook his head. "More likely in battle then of old age."
"I hope not." She replied, wrapping her arms over his shoulders and setting her chin in the curve of his neck and back.
"I am not saying that I hope I will, I am simply saying that someday, I will." He replied carefully. "And the quest that stretches out before us isn't going to be easy."
"Nothing worth doing is ever easy."
He managed a smile, bowing his head, slowly lifting one hand to cover one of hers. "I have been meaning to ask, have you been getting any feelings on this quest? I know you were before we left."
"Not recently, though I feel the imbalance as well." She admitted. "Do you still feel that someone wants to kill you?"
He was silent, mind wandering, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I do."
"Who would want you dead?"
Amusement came into his voice. "I am a servant of Heironeous on a mission to save the world. Any number of people or deities could want me dead."
She shook her head, releasing him and checking over the wounds on his back. "I do believe these are clean."
He pressed his hands together absently, and his aura came to life. She watched as the wounds slowly sealed, scars forming, then fading away within moments.
"With any luck, that is how all the wounds in our party will be by tomorrow." She remarked as he stood and shrugged back into his tunic, tying it.
"I hope so." He sighed. "Thank you."
She nodded, collecting the bowl and towels and returning to her room.
The party awoke in the morning to the sounds of a market and of a town springing to life. Music drifted in through the windows, as well as laughter and the sound of wagons.
Alan was the first awake, sitting bolt upright and flipping out of bed, throwing the shutters open, leaning out. The sky was bright blue spotted with a few white clouds, and a pleasant breeze blew the scent of flowers and fresh bread through town. It was, he mused, going to be a wonderful day.
He went through his pack and tossed on some of his more colorful clothing, scooped up his violin, and bounced out of the room, jogging down the halls, using the bow of his violin to scuff the walls and bounce across the doors. "Arise, young travelers!" He cheerfully cried.
"I'm not young anymore." Peppy opened his door as Alan got to it, catching the bow in his hand.
"Sure you are, if you are young of heart." Alan grinned at Peppy as the other doors slowly opened, the others of the group leaning out and looking around fuzzily.
"Fox, would you be angry if I put a well-placed bruise on Alan's skull?" Falco asked in a sensible voice.
"We've got more then enough wounded." Fox replied, but he was smiling a bit. "If I am to judge by the sun, we have gotten more then enough sleep, fellow travelers."
"No such thing as more then enough sleep." Falco grunted, ducking back into his room and closing the door.
"Come come now, if we do not dawdle in our packing, we may even be able to enjoy the festival before we leave!" Alan cried, managing to yank his bow out of Peppy's grasp and waving it around his head. Bill, who was standing across the corridor, ducked as the battered item whistled over his head. "A soldier's best shield is a light heart, my friends!"
"That is more true then not." Said Bill, rubbing sleep out his eyes. "Go ahead, Alan, we'll be down in a few minutes, I'm willing to believe…"
Alan nodded and bounced down the corridor, leaping down the stairs in two bounds and darting out of the inn.
"How much trouble do you suppose he'll get into?" Katt asked, smoothing hastily-donned robes.
"Not much, hopefully. Well friends, I suppose we should see about readying ourselves then." Fox said, closing his room door. The others followed suit, changing into fresh clothing and packing their bags, one by one leaving their rooms and stepping into town square.
Alan was sitting on top of a flag pole, sawing out a tune happily. A large group of children as well as adults stood below, looking up at him with slightly bewildered and amused looks on their faces.
"Morning fellow travelers!" Alan cried, saluting the group with the bow of his violin. "Don't mind me; I shall be down in a few minutes!"
"Simply amazing." Rita mused, shaking her head.
Osiris came in for a landing, lightly touching down on Fox's shoulder, feathers fluffing, catching the attention of several of the townsfolk, who raised their eyebrows at the large, diverse group of travelers.
"We have heard that the war has begun and ended, but have you details to share?" Asked a young boy, stepping forward, looking up at Fox.
"Some tale that!" Alan crowed, grabbing the rope that trailed up the flagpole and swinging down in a quick spiral, landing easily on his toes, grinning at the crowd. A few of the smaller children shrieked in excited terror at his appearance, and he only grinned wider, striding forward to join his group. "Would you mind, oh fearless leader, if I told them?" He asked, wrapping an arm around Fox's shoulders and leaning his weight into him.
"All depends, how much of your song is fact?" Fox asked simply.
"Oh all of it, if creatively told!"
"Go ahead, then."
"All right, then." Alan lifted his arm and leapt forward, and a pure, perfectly on key voice burst from his chest as he strolled forward, starting to weave his musical tale through the air. It wasn't long before he had a small crowd trailing after him, listening.
"It will be interesting to hear the song he is writing about this journey." Remarked Slippy cheerfully, adjusting his robes absently.
"For you perhaps, but more then likely a bit embarrassing on my part." Fox smiled sourly. "I do not think we are in any hurry today, as long as we arrive at the stronghold with enough time to buy the supplies we need and get suitable rooms at an inn…"
"We can wander, then?" Falco asked, arms crossed, gaze sharp and calculating as he eyed the crowd around him. The crowd eyed him right back; he still wore his Guild cape.
"Go right ahead." Fox replied graciously with a wave of his hand. "For that is more then likely what I will be doing."
The group separated easily, wandering through the small town, looking at merchant's booths absently. Many of the townspeople eagerly spoke to them, hungry for news from the capital and more information on the war which they had barely heard about.
Fox and Fara paced each other absently, eventually pausing to watch a pair of young men from the stronghold duel with shortswords, apparently trying to, in a friendly fashion, pick up more young men for the local militia. A few others from the militia sat nearby, apparently the different members were taking turns facing each other.
"They are rather skilled." Fara was forced to admit.
"True, but I have no doubt that you are better." Fox half-smiled, folding his arms as he watched.
A few of the townspeople nearby looked at him.
"A young woman a better fighter then the local militia?" Asked one, raising an eyebrow.
"Perhaps. We are both rather practiced." Fara said frankly.
"If you are so certain, why don't you two face us?" The pair fighting had stopped, both looking at them. The one speaking was a muscular sparrow, eyeing the pair of foxes in front of him.
"If you insist." She replied, crossing her arms and glancing at Fox.
Fox shrugged. "If you really want to face us, I have no protest, though I suggest that your entire group faces us at once."
The crowd watching tittered at this.
"Eight on two?" The sparrow's partner, a lemur, raised his eyebrows.
Fox only nodded.
A few minutes later a good portion of town square had cleared, and the eight militia members had surrounded Fox and Fara, swords drawn. The pair now stood back to back, Fox with his broadsword drawn—he felt it would be duly unfair to use his Katana.
'You never stuck me as the kind of person that is willing to show off.' Fara remarked to Fox, waiting for the eight against them to attack.
'I'm mainly doing this to make sure my wounds are completely healed and to stretch out from yesterday's battle.' He replied. 'Normally, I do not enjoy showing off.'
'And right now?'
He didn't have time to answer as the militia members attacked, four targeting him, four targeting Fara. He leapt into a front flip, landing behind the four and sweeping them down, as Fara dodged and easily deflected the blades against her.
The exhibition lasted only moments before the eight were crouched in a circle, panting, Fox and Fara standing off to one side, arms crossed and smiling.
"When exactly did we loose the upper hand?" Asked one of the militia members, wiping sweat from his brow, rubbing life into his stinging hands.
"I think we severely miscalculated our odds…" Replied the sparrow.
"Perhaps." Fox said. "Maybe introductions are in order?"
The sparrow stood and helped his fellows up. "Indeed. Sergeant Peter Smithson of the Militia." He held out his hand.
Fox shook it. "Sir Fox McCloud, King's Own, and my friend is Princess Fara Phoenix."
The militia gawked, and several managed to muster a bow or salute.
"No, you don't have to bow." Fara shook her head. "Right now, I am merely a duelist."
"And I am but a ranger." Fox said with a slight smile, holding up his arm as Osiris landed.
"A ranger? A bit out of your element, are you not?" Asked an older man, stepping forward. "Mathew Hennings, Mayor."
"A bit." He admitted, bowing. "I apologize for the blatant display, Mayor. Merely accepting a challenge."
"No apology needed." Was the gracious reply. "Are you the leader of the group that is currently traveling through here?"
Fox hesitated. "I suppose they consider me leader, but right now one of the other members of the group is guiding us."
"Indeed. Well, carry on."
"Thank you sir."
"So. Why so relaxed today, Fox?" Falco asked as they rode out of the town, following Julian's lead.
"Merely trying to be light of heart." Fox replied with a sigh. "How have your wounds healed?"
"Very well now, actually…"
"All we needed to properly perform healing spells was a little rest." Katt interjected, managing a smile.
"So, I'll take that to mean we are all at full strength now, or near it?" Fox asked, looking around at his group, and got nods all around. "Good… it would be risky to travel into the Wastes wounded…"
The group fell silent for a time, then Alan burst into song, waving a half-empty bottle of wine he had recently purchased. Several of the group joined; now that they were healed and out of the Black Forest, morale had improved tremendously. Even Fox joined in under his breath, sending Osiris into the air with a toss of his hand.
Osiris felt rather at home here, with the hot thermals carrying him higher and the desert so close by. He was in fact more at home here then he had ever been in a forest, but he had never regretted becoming Fox's familiar.
At Fox's request, Osiris soared higher and started toward the stronghold at a leisurely pace, spiraling and diving with the thermals.
Below, Fara fell in pace with Fox, glancing at his distant look. Noting her looking at him, he half-smiled and sent her the feelings he was picking up from Osiris, the feelings of flight, and she returned the smile.
It was late afternoon when Osiris was within an easy distance of the stronghold, and began a slow spiral downward, taking a closer look. A city built to withstand the occasional sandstorm, low and sprawling, buildings painted white against the heat, a rather tall wall surrounding the entire city. Warm air buffeting his wings, he soared lower, sharp vision picking out the form of an archer sitting on a roof, watching the skies. Watching the skies for what? Osiris did another slow circle, then saw the arrow.
Fox felt the arrow pierce, right through his chest, intense pain passing through him. His entire party stopped and stared, shocked, as he let off an almost avian scream, arms locking over his chest, tumbling from his mount. His unicorn whinnied, nuzzling at his prone form, as the convoy stopped, riders leaping from their saddles and surrounding their fallen comrade.
"Fox! Fox what happened?!" Katt demanded, kneeling beside him, hand on his shoulder. "Fox can you hear me?"
The voices were distant, but Fox somehow focused, eyes slowly opening and looking up at his party with distant, blurry eyes.
"Can you hear me?" Katt repeated desperately. "Fox, what happened? Your heart, an old wound, what happened?"
"Osiris…" He finally managed to say, then closed his eyes.
Several of the party looked toward the horizon, at the still-distant form of the stronghold.
"Oh, Ehlonna." Rita said slowly. "Someone or something killed Osiris."
"It's done."
Pigma glanced at Wolf. "Dead?"
"No, he's crippled. He won't be able to travel for days, and by then, we'll have caught up with them."
Fara watched with shock as the magic users of the group knelt by Fox, trying to find any actual wound, and there was none. Fox was suffering from some sort of backlash, a phantom wound they couldn't cure. He was unable to stand, and could barely speak, arms locked over his chest, which seemed to be the site of his pain.
Finally, she decided that enough was enough.
"All right! Something apparently killed Fox's familiar." She half-shouted. "Which means that he's suffering a form of the wounds." She turned her gaze on the group. "Falco, Alan, Bill, ride ahead. Try and find out what happened. Peppy go with them, look for a doctor. Double-time, gentlemen. As for the rest of us, let's see if we can at least get Fox up long enough to get him in the wagon."
The group stared at her, then numbly obeyed, the four she ordered to ride out mounting up and galloping away, Fox's unicorn leading them, a blaze of white streaking down the road.
The stronghold saw the riders from a distance, and wasn't too worried until they didn't slow down on approach. They decided to close the city gates; raiders attempted to come through every now and then, and though there were only four riders approaching they didn't want to risk anything.
The gates were almost shut when they thundered open, ropes snapping, and the guards gaped and yelled as a unicorn stood there, rearing and kicking its front hooves, screaming in near-maniacal anger. The riders came in behind it at a more leisurely pace, slowing to halt behind the angered steed. Finally one separated and came to stand in front of the guards.
"Horribly sorry about the gate. We'll pay for the repairs. Where might I find a good doctor or healer?" Peppy asked, leaning down.
The guard blinked up at him, numbly pointing, jumping when the unicorn suddenly surged forward, trotting down one of the streets of the town, the other riders following. "What… what's going on…?"
"A short while ago, someone in this city decided to shoot a hawk." Peppy replied quietly, dismounting and leading his gasping horse down the street, the guard leading him. "That hawk was a familiar, and now, my group's leader lies near-death."
Fox's unicorn paced down a side street, rearing every now and then, then finally put her nose to the ground and made a vain attempt at tracking. Falco, Alan, and Bill dismounted and followed her on foot, leading their horses.
"Any luck?" Bill asked the unicorn somewhat lamely as they stood at a cross street.
The unicorn snorted and lifted her head, then confidently turned left. The riders looked at each other and followed, ignoring the looks the villagers were giving them. They proceeded for a bit longer, then stopped completely. The unicorn was staring at the ground, where the sandy street was marked with blood.
"Osiris?" Falco asked, crouching by the mark, and the unicorn nodded. "It's confirmed then?"
The unicorn looked at him. "If Osiris had only been wounded, my rider would not have reacted so violently. The arrow that took Osiris' life did so on impact."
The three gaped.
"Were you not aware that unicorns can speak?" The mare gave them a rather droll look and then glanced around, pawing at the ground then snuffling again. After a moment she started walking again, this time slowly, eventually stopping and looking at one of the houses, a low growl coming from her chest.
"No need to ruin any more doors." Bill said hastily, walking forward and knocking on the door of the house.
After several long moments the door opened partway, and a young man blinked at them. He was a gerbil, probably in his mid to late twenties. "May I help you?" He finally asked, looking past Bill to look at Falco and Alan, then going slightly awestruck at the sight of a unicorn standing in the middle of the street.
"Perhaps. Did someone in this household shoot a hawk recently?"
"Yes actually, I did. Hawks have recently been making it impossible for this town's carrier pigeons to leave, so the mayor put a bounty on them. Why?" He added the last word when he saw the furious looks of the people facing them.
They were suddenly plowed aside, and the gerbil found himself being thrown backwards, sprawled on his back on the ground, the unicorn standing over him, intense golden eyes staring into his own.
Alan edged through the door and crouched down beside the gerbil, looking down at him. "Now ya see, this is the problem. That last hawk you shot down was our leader's familiar. And this beautiful creature here is our leader's steed. Our leader is currently not far from death, and we're all a bit on edge about the situation. Therefore, would it be too much of a bother for you to come forward and explain yourself to the rest of the party?" When the gerbil shook his head, Alan grinned. "Oh, good, good. I think you can let him up now, he obviously didn't mean to hurt Fox." This was said in the direction of the unicorn.
The mare stepped back slowly and backed out of the house.
"That unicorn is tame?" The gerbil finally managed in a somewhat strangled voice.
"No, not hardly." Alan snorted, easily tugging the gerbil up so energetically the gerbil almost fell forward. "Now, come along. You've got a bit of explaining to do."
The guards, realizing there wasn't much they could do to stop any member of the party, numbly watched as the others arrived, this part of the group escorting a wagon. Peppy was waiting for them with a doctor, who took one look at Fox's pale form and gestured for them to come immediately to the local infirmary.
The gerbil, whose name was Michael Andrews, took one look at the party at started to stammer out apologies. Fara, however, only held up a hand and gestured, leading him inside the infirmary and to the room where Fox was.
Fox lay as if asleep, but anyone who took a closer look could tell that even if he was unconscious, he was in quite a bit of pain, arms still locked over his chest, shivering, pale and weak looking. Fox's unicorn had ignored the doctor, and was currently laying nearby, legs tucked under herself, half asleep.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know…" Michael stammered out, watching as Fara sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the stricken form of her leader.
"We know." She sighed and shook her head. "We know."
There were no smiling faces on the travelers that night.
They all got rooms at an inn, dropped off their belongings, and either returned to the infirmary or retreated to the tavern. Falco and Alan were the first two to delve into alcohol, drowning their worry in ale and watching the townsfolk. Even Alan, who always smiled, was somber and quiet, eventually pulling out his violin and playing slow, sad music. Eventually, other people from the group started joining them. Slippy was the first, having left his mage's robes in his room and settled for his normal clothing, flopping into one of the wooden chairs and sagging. Falco shoved a mug to him, and they half-heartedly toasted before drinking.
"How long before he wakes up?" Falco finally asked.
"The healer doesn't know." Slippy shook his head. "But more then likely it will be a few days…" For a moment, anger flashed over his face. "Some part of this just doesn't seem possible. Fox didn't deserve this."
"To be honest, I can't believe it either." Falco sighed heavily, setting the empty mug down. "I realize well and good that he's just a soldier, but… he's a direct servant of his god. You'd think that in some small way, he'd be invincible."
"People normally think that of legends." Alan said in a hollow voice, six or seven empty mugs sitting in front of him. He was huddled in his chair, legs drawn up to his chest and chin settled on his knees, arms wrapping around his legs so his violin and bow were held against his shins. "But the funny thing is there's always a legend about the legend dying…"
"Let's not think about that." Slippy shook his head vigorously. "Continuing without Fox would be…"
"Impossible." Falco finished, shaking his head. "Or highly unlikely that we could even continue…"
Katt joined them, pulling a few more chairs up to the table, knowing that they'd probably end up with eight people sitting there. "We could at least try." She sighed, sitting down and leaning on the table, setting her chin on her arms. "Much as I don't want to contemplate it, I think we probably should."
They looked at her.
"He's not going to die, is he?" Alan's voice came out very small. "He shouldn't have to. His story isn't done yet…"
"I don't think so… but if he doesn't wake up, is that the same as death?" She sat up enough to spread her hands, then returned to her former position. "Osiris dying was a horrible shock to him, in mind, spirit, and body. Even with help, his recovery will not be fast."
Silence, then Alan started moving the bow of his violin in a slow rhythm.
".. And thus McCloud, a hero beyond his age, fell into a world of his mind's own making. The ties that bind can snap and crush, and survival became his only goal."
"You really should return to the inn and get some rest." The healer said, fighting the urge to yawn, looking at the two people that still remained in the room with their fallen leader. Peppy and Fara had yet to leave, retaining a silent vigil, waiting for some change, any change in Fox's state. "It will more then likely be two or three days before he has healed enough to awake."
"We know." Peppy sighed, arms folded. "Don't worry about us. Go ahead and retire."
"If you insist." He healer left the doorway, slowly walking down the corridor toward his room. This case worried him a bit. He wasn't sure who this young fox he was tending was, in the grand view of things, but other members of the party traveling with the young man had told him who his patient was, the tasks he had completed. It seemed that his patient was a young legend, and now the fact that his patient was so near death was taxing the entire group. He had told the group that Fox would recover, but it would be a time. Personally, he wasn't sure.
He shook the thoughts from his weary mind. From the stories he had been told, his young patient was very strong indeed. He would be able to recover. At least, he hoped so.
Fara rubbed sleep from her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall. She was sitting on the floor across from the bed so she could watch Fox. His arms had finally relaxed from their rigor-mortis hold, muscles releasing one by one until he was completely lax. Now he just looked like he was asleep, but if you looked closer, you could see he still looked very ill indeed.
Peppy sat down next to her with a heavy sigh. "I suppose that we are the ones who are going to keep watch on him…"
"True, but I severely doubt the others are in any better state then us." She replied. "And will be in an even worse state by morning."
He managed a small smile. "You're probably right, though I doubt any amount of alcohol could so much as make Alan twitch."
"Seeing Alan frowning for any amount of time is hurt enough." She replied sadly. "For someone who always smiles, it must be something tragic to make him frown… or cry…"
"True." Peppy yawned, rubbing across his heavy eyes with the back of his hand.
"Go get some sleep Peppy. I'll keep an eye on him." Fara said quietly.
He glanced at her, then sighed and stood. "All right. I'll relieve you in the morning."
She nodded, and he left, head down and step weary. Like the rest of the group, his morale had fallen, and exhaustion didn't help. Luckily the walk to the inn was a short one.
No one else had gotten to bed either. The bartender was sitting on a keg, watching the small group with half-interest. They apparently hadn't moved for several hours.
He walked over and knocked on the table to catch their attention, and seven pairs of eyes swiveled to look at him, many bleary with alcohol, worry, or both.
"He relaxed finally, but other then that there's been no change. Come on, comrades, we need our rest. When Fox recovers, he'll want to leave as soon as he's able."
"That'd be him. The minute he wakes up, he'll be reaching for his swords and muttering about how we don't have eternity to save the world…" Falco grunted, standing with some difficulty. "Where's Fara?"
"She's staying at the infirmary."
"Not surprised in the least."
The group slowly got to their feet and started for the stairs up to their rooms. Peppy tossed money to the bartender and helped those that needed it. The last one to finally stand and start trudging to his room was Alan, who was mumbling to himself in a rather depressed way.
"Don't worry, Alan, he'll be all right." Peppy remarked, giving the younger man a shoulder to lean on.
"Are you sure?" Was the whimpered reply as Alan almost fell over.
Peppy sighed, musing he really was too old for this (which of course made him all the more qualified for the role of surrogate father), braced an arm around Alan's shoulders then dipped down with his other arm, catching Alan in the back of the knees and lifting him. Alan just whimpered and sagged, letting himself be carried.
"… Cruel irony is the humor of the gods, for they are always coming up with ways to prove we are mortal. And thus the man that slays dragons and battles sorcerers can be nearly slain with a single arrow to his soul…" Alan mumbled as Peppy settled him down in bed, detaching the violin and bow from the bard's hands and setting them on the desk.
"Get some sleep, Alan." Peppy said gently, patting Alan's shoulder and leaving the room.
There was a long silence, then one more sentence escaped Alan before the door closed. "But why is it that the heroes must die?"
Why indeed, Peppy mused as he trudged to his room.
"You know, it would be almost disappointing if the death of his familiar killed him." Leon remarked thoughtfully as the hooves of his steed hit the moss-covered forest trail with dull thuds. "I would very much rather have his blood dripping off the blade of my sword… or off my claws…"
"I'm sure we all agree." Said Pigma. "As does our employer apparently."
"Love, money, or religion." Wolf replied. "That's what people kill for."
"Oh? And what category do we fall into?" Leon asked, preening his sharp claws absently.
"Well, our employer the prince is willing to kill for love. I personally am making a kill for religion, and so are both of you, though it is the money that also keeps you on this quest." He shrugged a bit.
"Intuitive bastard." Pigma laughed out loud.
"Sometimes." Was the simple reply. Being called a bastard didn't bother Wolf a bit—after all, by definition, he was one.
Morning dawned bright and hot in the stronghold, waves of heat coming off the street and houses. Shutters and windows were left open to encourage airflow, and those in the party not used to heat found themselves at the mercy of it. Julian took the opportunity to explain how they would have to travel in the desert, and the group listened, realizing that travel from there on out would be a good bit more difficult then before.
Fara woke up slowly, blinking at the bright light coming in from the window. She had ended up falling asleep leaning into Fox's unicorn, which hadn't seemed to mind. As she sat up, the healer came in and gave her a glass of water.
"I think your friend is already starting to do better." The healer remarked, stepping over to Fox, one long-fingered hand settling on Fox's neck, looking for a pulse. "Yes, his pulse is stronger, and his breathing has become deeper and easier. He should awake within a day or two with any luck."
"Well, that's good news then." She finally said, sighing. "After he wakes up, how soon will he be able to travel?"
The healer considered. "A day or two more, if his recovery time is fast, and once he is awake I can heal his fatigue in more normal ways. I can do that now as well to some degree, but his body is not very responsive to it."
"Thank you."
The healer nodded and left the room.
She stood and slowly stretched, having drunk most of the water, and walked over to the bed, looking down at Fox. After many long moments she sat, brushing her fingers over his hair absently. It seemed strange that someone who was currently so helpless was the same person who had rescued her. That seemed to be a long time ago, now. She sighed, shaking her head, remembering what he had said during their discussion at the ball held shortly after the conclusion of the war. The worst thing about this was that even a professional healer seemed barely able to help him, and they only had a limited idea of what damage had been done.
"How heals our hero?" Asked a rather drowsy voice from the doorway.
She looked up. "Morning Alan. He's doing better, according to the healer…"
Alan wobbled in and sat down hard on the floor, then shook off. "Good, that's good I guess…"
"What's wrong?" She tilted her head, looking at the disheveled figure sitting in front of her. No smiles, not even a gleam of one.
"It just doesn't seem particularly fair." He finally said. "I do hope that whatever god arranged this gets a good zap when we find and use the staff…"
"That could be considered blasphemy." She remarked absently.
He tossed his arms up. "I am an insane member of the Blood Bayou. I have nothing to worry about by blaspheming, for my very existence is blasphemy enough." He softened, and his voice came out with a tremor. "But I do not want Fox to die, and I would gladly plea to any God if it would help Fox recover."
She was silent, then said, "I think we all would."
"It is rather interesting if you think about it, a teenage knight who leads us and provokes such loyalty from such a diverse group…" He flopped back and stared up at the ceiling. "Swirlies." He remarked, twirling a finger in the air.
Looking up, she saw he was right; the layer of plaster on the ceiling had swirls and spirals throughout it, by accident or on purpose. "So I see… I take it that depression is a rather rare feeling for you?"
He looked at her. "I suppose so. It is a rather weird feeling to me…" He was silent, then said in as cheery voice as he could muster, "People always act a bit odd around me because of my freedom from sanity and appearance, but I've grown to hold that they're just jealous. Most people can never be as happy as I am on a regular basis."
She smiled a bit. "I'm willing to believe that."
Peppy came in, carrying a tray, which he set down on the desk. "Breakfast for you, Fara, and there might be enough for you too Alan."
"Thanks, Pep." Fara stood and walked over to the tray, uncovering it. The smell of pancakes and sausage immediately filled the room, and before she could blink Alan had already snitched one of the sausages.
"How's he doing?" Peppy finally asked, looking at Fox.
"Better according to the healer." She replied. "He should wake up in a day or two."
"That's good then... Julian and Bill are seeing about arranging supplies and such so we can move out when able to. Falco wanted to help, but he's rather bedridden at the moment…."
"I do not understand that, he didn't have half as much to drink as I did." Said Alan, pulling apart a pancake with his fingers and dipping the pieces in a bowl of syrup. Fara, who had just picked up the silverware, seemed to shrug to herself, and followed suit.
"Perhaps, but you are a bit different then Falco." Fara pointed out.
"Everyone is a bit different then everyone else." He pointed out. "I'm just a bit more so."
"How true." Peppy looked amused. "If you two want to go and explore the town, you can. I'll stay here."
"All right."
Fifteen or so minutes later Alan and Fara were leaving the infirmary, Fox's unicorn following, now disguised as a horse again. Alan paused at the inn to grab his violin, and they wandered the city absently, Alan playing soulful music the entire way.
"Why don't'cha play something happy, mister?" Asked one of the children that had fallen into following them about.
"Not sure if I can right now." Alan admitted, tuning the violin absently. "My leader is very sick…"
"And recovering." Fara remarked. "Don't let the circumstances restrict you, Alan. I personally don't like seeing you frowning."
He thought about that, then managed a small grin. "Oh really your highness? What is so bad about me frowning?"
"Because you always smile, I guess. You frowning is kind of disturbing in a way… sad." She shrugged.
He thought about that, tapping his violin bow against his hip absently, then leapt forward. "Come, children, gather around, spread ears like elephants, and I shall tell you a tale of a hero, a young man who journeyed great distances to fight an evil sorcerer!"
Fara laughed, leaning back against Fox's unicorn absently. "Absolutely amazing."
The unicorn seemed inclined to agree.
Fox blinked. He was standing in a vast room with marble flooring and walls, facing an empty throne. Glancing down at himself, he saw he was in armor, and it was in full repair, not ruined as he last saw it, and that both his swords were at his side.
"You have fallen into a string of bad luck, my disciple." Remarked a deep, powerful voice, and a form suddenly appeared in the throne. He was a middle-aged man, slightly scarred yet dignified, dressed as a knight of the highest honor and power.
Fox dropped to one knee and bowed his head immediately. "My Lord Heironeous."
"Stand." Heironeous stood easily and stepped forward, cape flowing. Fox immediately did, eyes still downcast. "And you need not fear me. You may gaze upon me as if I were one of your fellow men."
Fox's gaze slowly lifted. "Forgive me, my Lord, but what event has brought me here? It has been some time since we last spoke, and you have never spoken to me in person like this."
"Walk with me, my disciple, and I shall explain." Heironeous gestured, and they left the hall, entering a huge courtyard of enormous beauty. "Do you remember, young knight, what happened to you?"
Fox thought back. "My familiar was killed, my Lord… this tragedy has not brought death upon my own soul, has it?"
"No, no. Of course not. But you have been lying as if asleep for a time now, a few days by your count I believe." He sighed. "I wanted to speak to you about this event. It seems that my half-brother Hextor was ultimately the one that arranged to have your familiar killed."
This made Fox pause. "What would Hextor gain by my being weakened?"
"You know that you are being followed and that those following mean you great harm." Heironeous stopped, leaning on a bridge and looking down at the stream that passed under it. "Those following you are old enemies of yours, my disciple, and are servants of my half-brother."
"Will you give me the names of those against me?"
"I believe that you already know." Was the careful reply.
"O'Donnel and Dengar?" Fox raised his eyebrows. "They have escaped?"
"Yes, and they have been joined by another fellow, Powalski. Hextor has been in direct contact with O'Donnel for a time now, and plans you great harm, young McCloud. To be honest, I wish not you dead. We have a good agreement, you and I." Heironeous smiled a bit, then grew deathly serious. "And Hextor already stole away one of my followers and killed another."
"Dengar and my father." Fox said quietly.
"Yes. I still wish I could have prevented those events, but there was nothing I could do. But there is now. This is why we are speaking now."
"Who released O'Donnel and Dengar, pray tell?"
"I cannot tell you, that is for you to find out, I am afraid." The god shook his head. "The reason I am telling you this is because the danger that is following you looms close now."
"I am at a position of helplessness, my Lord." Fox spread his hands. "As you said, I have been unconscious for a time now. Even if I do awake, I shall be weak, not at the peak of my abilities, which is where I must be if I expect to face O'Donnel and walk away from the meeting."
"Right you are. My disciple, your limits will be tested again and again on this mission that you work to complete. It is not my choice but I'm afraid it must be done, and it is not only you that shall be tested." Heironeous crossed his arms. "I did wish to touch on one more subject, that of the Princess who travels with you as an equal."
"She is a talented sword fighter, my Lord, and can perform arcane magic." Fox said after a moment.
"That is not what I meant, and you know that." Was the blunt reply, and Heironeous grinned when Fox grew uncomfortable. "And you thought that I did not know the feelings you have for her?"
"Well, I…"
"No matter. You have my blessing, young Knight, and Pelor's as well if I am to understand my fellow god correctly…" He paused, staring into the distance. "Unfortunately, I think that our conversation must close now. I think that your body will soon come to some amount of peril."
"I am honored to have an audience with you, my Lord."
"As I am honored to meet you in person, young Fox McCloud."
The courtyard slowly faded away.
Fara sighed, rubbing her eyes. It was late; but she couldn't sleep, and her wanderings of the city had found her back at the infirmary. She slipped inside the building and walked down the dark corridor, tail waving, turning into Fox's room.
He didn't look sick anymore, and his breathing was soft and easy. By her hopeful guess, he would probably wake up soon. She sighed, looking down at him, and gasped as a pair of hands grabbed her, one covering her mouth the other holding her waist. Light blazed in the room, blinding her.
"Well, well. If it isn't the reluctant princess." Laughed a voice that chilled her to the bone. She blinked tears from her eyes, vision returning, and found herself looking at Pigma Dengar. "You walked in just in time. We were discussing how to go about killing your 'great leader.'" Pigma looked down at Fox's helpless form, laughing when he saw Fara's eyes widen.
'Wake up, Fox. Wake up… please wake up…' She pleaded mentally, trembling, muscles tensing as she prepared to struggle.
"Bad idea." Remarked O'Donnel's voice right in her ear. "Don't struggle, your Highness. I'm going to uncover your mouth, but don't scream. Screaming will only buy your fallen leader more pain."
She let herself relax, still pleading in her mind, hoping to Pelor and Heironeous that somehow Fox would hear her and awake. "How did you get in here?" She asked quietly.
"Quite easily." Wolf chuckled. "And you were so focused on making sure that McCloud was still well that you didn't think to check the room, or put on a light." He roughly took her sword and released her. "Don't worry, we're not going to hurt you. We're here to kill him, not you." He nodded toward the bed.
"No, you can't…" She protested, heart speeding up.
"He's a danger to us. Sorry…" Wolf made a move toward the bed, and stopped.
Fox's breathing was speeding up, and even as they watched, his eyes opened. Moments later, an aura of light blazed out from him, and he pushed himself up, reaching an arm out. His katana, which hung across the room, leapt from its sheath to his hand, and he was on his feet, a crown of fire surrounding him. "A danger to you I might be, but to attempt to kill me when I lay helpless…" Fox spat, the tip of his katana just barely touching Wolf's throat. "Who, pray tell, is paying you to commit this act against me?"
"And why do you care?" Wolf returned, squinting. "Would you kindly dim the halo? You are not an archangel, it doesn't compliment you."
Fox smiled, and the aura around him diminished. "Leave, the three of you." He dropped his arm, holding his katana loosely at his side. "Now. Leave town. And I suggest that you come up with a better plan to rid the world of me."
"You aren't going to fight us?" Pigma asked, stunned.
"No, I am not, nor am I going to take you prisoner. Leave."
"Have you become cowardly?"
A deep growl welled from Fox. "No. I am merciful." He whipped the blade of his sword in an upward diagonal slash, and a blade of light flew from it toward Pigma. Pigma cried out and staggered backwards. "GO!"
"We will meet again at a later date." Wolf promised, and led his two teammates out of the room. When Fara looked to see if they were truly leaving, they were gone.
"Why did you let them go?" She asked, stunned.
"It would be a bad idea to fight them here." He sat back down on the bed, shaking slightly.
She sat down next to him. "Are you alright?"
"No." He brushed his hair back absently. "I spoke to Heironeous; he told me who was following us."
Silence for a moment. "How did you make the sword come to your hand?"
"It's an artifact tied to my family life, Fara. That's merely a side effect, though one I have never used before…" He looked at her, then suddenly drew her close, tucking his face into her hair. "How is the rest of the group fairing?"
"Well. We've bought supplies, we're ready to leave as soon as you are able to." She replied, somewhat surprised, but leaned into him comfortably.
"Tomorrow most likely, I don't want to linger here, especially with O'Donnel and his friends so close." Fox sighed. "And we have delayed long enough. We are after all on a mission."
"You've been unconscious for a time, you should allow yourself to recover…"
"I don't need to recover." He shook his head. "Because I didn't become weak."
She looked at him. "You're shaking."
"I was channeling directly from my God. Tell me you wouldn't be." He sighed.
She shook her head in amazement. "You spoke to your god, and channeled power from him, and this doesn't strike you as a bit unusual?"
He let her go and spread his hands. "I'm a disciple, Fara. It was my first time doing so on either subject, so to me it's new, but not the least bit unusual."
"And to think once upon a time my father dishonored you." She shook her head.
Fox stood and went to the window, throwing the shutters open and looking out at the city streets that passed the infirmary, looking at the city up close for the first time. He wasn't too tired, having slept for a long time, but he knew it was night and that he'd have to be rested in the morning. All the same, he wanted to survey his position. "Who was leading during my… absence?" He glanced at her.
She stood and joined him. "We all were a bit, but I was the one that got everyone moving when you first fell. Kind of surprised the others."
"Doesn't surprise me, you would make a great leader and very dignified, just ruler."
"Women typically aren't in positions of power." She shrugged. "But I'm happy you think so."
Fox's unicorn trotted up to the window, nickering. He smiled and leaned out the window, soothing his steed. "I'm all right." He assured the unicorn in a gentle voice, hearing the worry his steed projected to him.
"The whole group was rather distraught over what happened to you…" Fara leaned forward to scratch the unicorn's ears. "Turned out that hawks had been harassing this city's carrier pigeons for a good time before we even got near this city, and there was a bounty on them. The young man that shot Osiris didn't know any better." She looked at Fox apologetically. "Your steed is the one that tracked the young man down."
"I am not surprised." He sighed and hung his head. "Much as I'd like to, I can't go back in time or undo the past. Osiris fell."
There was silence for a moment, and Fox lifted a hand to cover a rather wide yawn.
"Strange. I've slept for two days and yet I need more sleep." He shook his head and laughed to himself.
"I suppose you will be up at your usual early hour?" Fara turned to look at him.
"Yes indeed. We move out tomorrow." Fox rubbed the back of his neck. "You were the one watching over me for the majority of my time asleep, weren't you?"
"Yes I was."
He drew her close for a moment, tucking his face into her neck. She returned his hold, leaning into him.
"I shall see you in the morning, then." He released her and folded his arms.
"God ye good eve." She smiled a bit, returning to the inn, much lighter of step.
"Alan? Alan…"
"Mm?" Alan woke up with a start, blinking at Fara. "And a wonderful morning to you dear lady! Bit earlier then past mornings, what's the trouble?" With a mighty contortion of his body, he snapped to his feet, standing on the bed.
She stood and crossed her arms, laughing. "I want you to wake everyone up, and get them in a good mood. I have good news. Fox is alive, well, and awake. We move out today."
Alan whooped, leaping off the bed and pouncing on Fara, crushing her in a hug. She gasped in surprise, then laughed and returned it. "Our hero returns to us! That is simply wonderful news!" He straightened his clothes and grabbed his violin. "And I will gladly awake everyone and inform them!"
"Good, good. Do so." Still laughing, she watched as Alan happily leapt out of the room and rattled the bow of his violin down the walls and across the doors, rapping on the doors of the rooms inhabited by their group.
One by one the doors opened, and Falco was the first to say anything. "What IS your problem, you insane bard?" He demanded, somewhat cross.
"No problem at all!" Alan threw his arms wide and grinned. "Our leader has awakened, and we leave today, fellow travelers! Awake, awake, we must make ready!"
Falco's sour mood dissolved, and he smiled. "Well then. I suppose that would be a good reason to be woken up early. Thank you Alan."
"It is no problem my friend! Now let us get ourselves ready, we don't want to appear shabby to our leader, now do we?"
The healer sighed, looking at the young man sitting on his examination table. It was absolutely, mind-bogglingly amazing. His patient showed no ill effects of what had been done to him, sitting calmly on the table during his examination.
"So, do I pass inspection?" Fox asked calmly.
The healer spread his hands. "I must say you do. You are in perfect health, Sir McCloud."
"Thank you kindly." Fox stood and tied his tunic, then left, leaving a stack of money on the examination table, a good bit over what was required to pay.
His unicorn was waiting, in full tack, and he swung into the saddle. Dawn was sending rays of sunlight across the sky and down the streets, and he basked in the sunlight for a moment, head back and eyes closed. Smiling, he made his way down the street to one of the inns where he guessed his party was—even from where the infirmary was, he had heard Alan's vibrant violin playing, and from a block away had seen his bard friend dancing on the roof. When Alan saw him, he cried out happily, and before Fox could stop him had leapt off the roof, soaring through the air and landing easily, crouching on his toes. Then Fox was plowed off his mount and into the sandy road, laughing even as the wind was knocked out of him.
"Easy Alan! Easy!" He held up his hands in treaty, looking up at the bard, who was sitting on his stomach. "Rest assured that I am glad to see you too, but I am still recovering, so be a bit more, ah, gentle, all right?"
"Oh of course!" Alan leapt to his feet and yanked Fox up, almost dislocating Fox's arm in the process.
"Morning, Fox." Falco clapped hands with his group leader. "Very glad to see that you are up and around."
"I'm very glad to be up and around, believe me." Fox looked around at his group, which had surrounded him, a few pummeling him friendly-like on his back and shoulders. He took the abuse in stride. "I'm sorry I worried you, everyone. Unfortunately, I must worry you more. I almost never woke up. Had I decided to come to consciousness a few moments later then I did, I would have found my throat slit and my heart cut out. Our old enemies Wolf O'Donnel and Pigma Dengar have found us, and they have a third with them, Leon Powalski. They have been following us all this time, and they mean me much bodily harm." He shook his head. "Thus why we must move out immediately if at all possible."
Everyone nodded, processing this.
"Also, while I have greatly recovered, I am still rather weak and it will probably be a day or two before I am at full performance. However, I am not willing to delay any longer." He looked around at all of them. "So are we ready to move out?"
Nods and cheerful affirmatives answered this, the entire group's morale lifting.
"Then let us continue on our journey."
