In another situation, I believe the people would be shouting for the heads of the Warlords who attacked the city, but now, they merely observed in silence, a mixture of admiration and fear, the spirit beside me.
A tall being, translucent blue, with a strong physique and long hair and beard, wearing long robes and bearing a staff that surpasses his height by a small margin if you don't consider the horns pointing upwards.
Berakhiah Stein observed the ruins of his city with an impassive face, but there was sadness gleaming in his eyes. I can't imagine what he felt seeing the state of what he fought to build.
"How long has it been since I last saw my beloved home?"
Spirits could speak, Latenna and the Jellyfish were proof of that, so I believe most remain silent of their own accord. The people recoiled at his words, their curious faces turning to fear for a second before marveling at the sight of an ancestral spirit.
However, their joy was short-lived, for pushing their way through the crowd, two delegations of mercenaries, escorted by a mixture of knights and defenders, approached, each representing one of the warlords' armies.
It wasn't long before shouts erupted, accompanied by stones and whatever else the people could find, forcing the escort to quicken its pace, disappearing inside the House of Knowledge, but not before facing the spirit in surprise.
"You should go and explain to the mercenaries that the promises of riches were nothing but lies."
"So be it, sorcerer. My city has suffered enough."
Berakhiah turned his back to me, his clothes flowing in the wind with the regalia of a king before his footsteps disappeared into the building behind us.
The crowd focused on me as he disappeared from their sight. Sighing, I ran my hands through my hair, taking a step forward.
"Very well, I believe an explanation will be necessary for…"
I failed miserably in my attempt to calm the people, my eyes widened, and my escape route was blocked, the ground trembling with the number of footsteps stomping across the earth.
Soon I found myself surrounded by a crowd that seemed like a sea of bodies, their agitated voices mingling in a deafening cacophony.
"HEY, ARE YOU A SARKAZ?"
"NO, I AM NOT!"
"THEN WHY DID YOU HELP US?"
"DO I NEED TO BE A SARKAZ TO HELP THE PEOPLE OF KAZDEL?!"
"YES! NO ONE OF ANOTHER RACE WOULD DO THAT!"
My expression darkened, reminding me of how these people were treated by the rest of the world. I could even draw a parallel with the undead in certain aspects.
"YOU WERE THE ONE WHO SUMMONED THE SPIRIT OF THE CITY'S FOUNDER?!"
"YES!"
"CAN YOU SUMMON MORE?!"
"GIVEN THE FAVORABLE SITUATION, YES!"
To my frustration, a side conversation began, partly asking if I was a Lich priest or something similar due to my ability to interact with spirits.
They wanted my help to speak with deceased loved ones and ancestors. The attempt was valid, but unless there is an spirit ash or soul that resisted the call of the afterlife and remained in the physical world, I can't do much.
The other side called me a monster, a heretic, and other similar names, because according to them, the dead already suffered in life, and I have no right to bring them back to fight in my name, something I can agree with.
"IS IT TRUE THAT YOU CURED THE INFECTED FOREIGNERS?!"
That question pierced their voices like an arrow, silencing everyone present who had been watching me with anticipation. I admit, having so many people staring at me in complete silence made me nervous. Facing a giant seemed like a better option.
I clicked my tongue, muttering an insult in a language these people didn't understand. The secret had to slip out at some point, and if I wanted to help the infected, then it would be best to show that someone was making some kind of effort.
"I CANNOT CURE ORIPATHY, ONLY RETURN IT TO ITS INITIAL STAGES! IF YOU ARE INFECTED OR KNOW SOMEONE IN THAT STATE, TAKE THE OPPORTUNITY, I WILL NOT STAY IN THE CITY FOR LONG! AND FOR THOSE WHO DO NOT BELIEVE ME, JUST WATCH!"
-XXXXXX-
There was a commotion in the streets, I could hear everything from here, probably a celebration of victory. For a moment I was glad I wasn't there, I didn't have the patience for such turmoil.
Looking back, I saw the wounded and chained warlords inside what was once the city prison, now a crumbling place with rusty bars.
The one I faced at the gates was covered in bruises, I think I may have gotten carried away when he almost cut one of my antlers off. The other one looked like he'd fallen into a bonfire, covered in burns, courtesy of the spirit Alden summoned.
Hm… The more I observe, the less I can determine that man's race. Does he have Sarkaz blood? That would explain some of the things he can do.
KNOCK!
KNOCK!
KNOCK!
"Enter."
"Sir Buldrokkas'tee, here are the mercenaries."
"Very well, let them in."
I pushed those thoughts away, stepping aside as some furious mercenaries burst through the door.
"YOU DAMNED SON OF A BITCH! YOU LIED TO US! BOTH OF YOU!"
I placed a hand on the group leader's shoulder, stopping him from going any further. He tried to escape, but gave up, his face contorting in pain as I tightened my grip.
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU DAMNED TRAITOR?! GET ME OUT OF HERE! I'LL PAY DOUBLE FOR THIS!"
One of the warlords replied, specifically the one I had defeated, who now struggled to speak, missing some teeth and with a swollen face.
"PAY US WITH WHAT MONEY EXACTLY?! THERE'S NOTHING OF VALUE IN THIS CITY!"
"HOW DARE YOU! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!"
"YOU ARE A NOBODY, JUST LIKE THE TRASH IN THE CELL NEXT TO YOU! BECAUSE GUESS WHAT, THE FUCKING GHOST OF THE CITY'S FOUNDER TOLD US THE WHOLE TRUTH. YOU ARE NOT HIS DESCENDANTS AND ALL THE GOLD HAS BEEN USED A LONG TIME AGO!"
The remaining warlord cowered, his face terrified, knowing exactly what the mercenary was talking about.
"ARE YOU BLIND OR AN IDIOT?! THEY TRICKED YOU ALL! TRICKS AND NONSENSE!"
"YOU…"
Before the situation got out of control, we removed the mercenaries from the room, continuing the conversation outside.
"I believe you've had more than enough proof to leave. Spread the word, there's nothing of value here, only death for a nonexistent treasure. You've lost many, and so has the city."
There was a moment of silence; for an instant I thought a fight would break out, but the group unleashed a series of insults, caused more by not being paid after so many problems than by the suffering they caused.
They are mercenaries; I don't know why I expected anything different. The knights then took them away, and with that done, I returned to the ruined prison where both prisoners stared at me with hatred to hide their shame.
"I'll be direct, a message has been sent to the capital; someone will come soon to take you to your trial, that is, if you survive until then, because I won't stay here to ensure the people don't take justice into their own hands. As for your territories, they will probably belong to the crown to avoid a conflict caused by a power vacuum."
I left the room again, ignoring their shouts and protests, which the closed door behind me did little to muffle. I sighed in exhaustion, looking at the sun, trying to estimate how much time was left until the shift change.
-XXXXXX-
"NEXT!"
I wonder if this is how true healers feel, because if it is, I have to commend Warfarin for her patience.
The next infected stepped forward, a woman wearing clothes that concealed most of her body, leaving little skin exposed. For the umpteenth time, I refused payment, a handful of coins offered by a trembling hand, probably all she had.
I held her wrist, and for a moment her expression became even more dejected than it already was. With my remaining hand, I rang my chime, conjuring the miracle.
Her eyes widened as the golden light surrounded us. I heard the sounds of the black crystals on her body shattering and falling to the ground.
With a wide smile, teary eyes, and lowered gaze, she tried to offer me the coins, but I refused, no matter how hard she tried. Before the situation spiraled out of control again, Berakhiah's spirit gently guided her away, allowing the next infected person to approach.
Great, I was getting tired of people throwing themselves on top of me and grabbing my robes as if I were some kind of saint, I was tired of wiping away tears and phlegm.
"This is a miracle. I never imagined I would see Oripathy cured, even if not completely."
The spirit stopped beside me, watching attentively as I healed the man before us.
"Did it exist in your time?"
Berakhiah let out a sad laugh, his posture slumping before he answered.
"Did it exist? Oripathy has always existed, since the time of my grandparents and my great-grandparents."
"And nobody did anything to try to cure it?"
"Many have tried, but without success, so isolating the infected proved to be the only option, because at the moment of their death, they explode, spreading the disease, and you never know when that will happen; after all, people fear what they don't understand. But perhaps things will change now."
"Don't put all your hopes in me, I'm just a man and I can't be everywhere at once."
I finished healing the person in front of me, who bowed, thanking me repeatedly before leaving.
"Even so, you're striving to do good, aren't you? How can I not have hope when I see my people having their afflictions relieved, even if by a foreigner?"
"What can I say? I lose nothing by healing people. It's easy, although tiring in the long run, and as long as the cases aren't serious, they can return the next day when I'm recovered. It would have been worse if I had just watched without acting, even though I could."
Next came a young man, his sisters and brother, all infected, forcing me to conjure an area miracle.
"I'm surprised you don't charge for your services; many would."
"Let's just say that where I come from, money has lost all its value, so I don't have the same attachment to it as others. And if I'm going to charge, then let it be from someone who can pay without spending everything they have."
That, and I prefer to avoid repeating the strange situation where some of the poorer infected offered me something more carnal as payment.
Their desperation was terrifying.
The young people left, laughing merrily; the spirit and I couldn't help but smile, but the work wasn't finished.
"Tell me, Alden? Who are you? How do you do these things?"
"It's a long story; you wouldn't believe me."
"I doubt it's that absurd."
"Then I'll tell you when we're alone, not in the middle of a crowd."
"Fair."
The next infected one came, but that didn't interrupt our conversation.
"Berakhiah, when this is over, would you like to return to your rest?"
The spirit didn't answer immediately, its face consumed by an expression of deep thought.
"Not yet, I wish to remain in my city and help its inhabitants. The glory days will not return, but I still possess the knowledge I acquired in life, and now I can share it with its inhabitants."
If I remember correctly, the Liches were organizing the restored tomes, and the archaeologist couple, Joel and Dafna, were trying to assemble a cohesive record of the city's history. Perhaps this will aid the spirit in its endeavors.
"Then so be it. I will respect your wish."
We exchanged a nod, then our work continued for the rest of the day.
-XXXXXX-
I didn't hate the people of this city, however, I had to spend the night hiding, because even after healing all the infected I encountered, there were still individuals wishing for favors or wanting to please me.
It wasn't bad, just irritating after the hundredth time.
Fortunately, it was time to leave. The mercenary armies were the first, taking all the equipment they could carry, whether from their dead or the supplies the warlords brought.
I can't say all the problems were solved, but stability seemed to be slowly returning. The forces from the capital would arrive soon, so perhaps the process would be accelerated.
Right now, we were at the North gate with the wagons ready to depart.
"How many fingers am I showing you?"
"Miss Warfarin, that's not necessary, I feel perfectly fine."
I couldn't help but laugh as I watched Warfarin perform some final tests on Ephram.
"Don't be stubborn, a blow like that to the head isn't something to ignore."
"I can assure you there's nothing wrong."
"That's right, then let go of Tis'adel's arm."
The vampire crossed her arms and half-closed her eyes, observing the knight who hadn't removed his hand from the shoulder of the woman he'd grown close to in the few days they'd stayed in the city.
"You will remain resting with your lover until I say otherwise, so no fighting."
The knight tried to protest, but it was too late. Warfarin turned her back and entered her usual wagon.
"Come on, you heard the healer. You're all mine for the rest of the journey."
The red-horned Sarkaz dragged the flushed man away, climbing into her own wagon . I was about to call Torrent and leave, but someone shouting my name interrupted me.
"Alden, wait!"
Turning around, I saw Mats running towards me, stumbling and almost falling along the way. I watched the sweat-covered man, gasping in front of me as he tried to catch his breath.
"Well, here I am. What do you want, Mats?"
"So what you said was true? You really are in the king's service?"
"Yes, temporarily due to personal matters."
"But how? Why these de…"
He stopped immediately, but I knew what he almost said.
"Why do these people treat you so well?"
"I wouldn't say well, I'm still viewed with hatred and distrust by many, and I can understand why. To be brief, I don't hate the Sarkaz, I have no reason to, they've never done anything against me, except for trying to kill me in some cases, but that's nothing new in my life. I treat them as people and respect their culture, and they reciprocate most of the time. I help in any way I can and don't become a burden to Kazdel, but I also believe that as a warrior people, they respect my strength, so you could say that my preferential treatment is due to a number of factors."
Mats stared at me with something I couldn't describe. Surprise? Disbelief? Either way, he clicked his tongue and spoke.
"That doesn't matter now! Please, teach me your arts!"
He bowed like a student before his master, but I showed no surprise; it wasn't the first time someone had asked me this—in this case, people from my world wanting to learn magic.
"Why?"
He stood up, his brow furrowed and perhaps anger in his eyes.
"What do you mean, why?! You did the impossible! Your combat and healing arts are amazing! Don't you want to share and develop them?!"
"Mats, if I teach you my arts, what do you plan to do with them?"
"I-I just told you!"
"You, specifically, what do you plan to do with my arts? If I teach you to summon lightning from the sky, pillars of fire from the ground, whirlwinds of darkness, what will you do with them? I am not a saint, I will not be hypocritical and say that I will not use my arts to kill or get what I want, but I have limits, principles, a philosophy, call it what you will, but what about you? You are in Kazdel and clearly have prejudice against the Sarkaz, what guarantees that you will not put that hatred into practice when you have power in your hands? What guarantees that you will not spread my secrets to the wrong people? As long as you don't give me a good reason to trust you, then I will not teach you, but if someday you need help with your Oripathy, come to the capital and my doors will be open to you."
I left the dumbfounded man behind as I heard the snap of the reins and the sounds of the pack animals. It was time to leave, I called Torrent and rode towards the expedition without regrets. If I were to share my knowledge with someone, it would be a trustworthy person.
I admit, I was surprised to see the city's population on the walls, bidding us farewell. Berakhiah was among them, the sun shining through his body.
I don't think I'll ever get used to this sort of thing, but I couldn't help but smile back, returning the waves. Deep down, I felt something warm in my chest.
When we were far enough away, Warfarin sat in the driver's seat of her wagon and turned to me with one of her characteristic smiles, but eyes that promised anything but kindness.
"So, Alden, when were you going to tell me you could revert Oripathy to its initial state?"
The sweet tone in her voice was sickly, similar to her grandmother's, and in less than a second, I found myself stared at from all sides by the expedition.
END OF CHAPTER