Arcanist In Another World-Chapter 16: Conflict

Valens clawed clumsily at the woman’s hand and tried to jerk himself away, panting for air, cold sweat trickling down his back. Air tightened round his windpipe, breath wheezing weakly through his lips.

"You mad lass!” Nomad cursed and grabbed at the woman, wrapping an armored hand around her arm and wrenching her fingers away from Valens. He drove an elbow down into her chest to nail her back to the ground. “Show a little respect to your savior, will you?”

Valens rubbed his neck. He managed a hasty Lifesurge over his nearly crushed throat as the woman slumped back wheezing, eyes narrowing at Nomad. A defeated, pained gasp escaped her lips.

“I-Is this the Underworld?” she muttered.

Nomad tilted his head at Valens. “You just had to heal her, didn't you?”

“That’s the job.” Valens pinched the bridge of his nose and peered down at the woman, Lifesurge easing his pain. He certainly hadn’t expected such a reaction, though. He said to the woman, “I’m afraid you’re still a long life away from joining these foul creatures. Now take a deep breath. And keep those hands away from me, please. I don’t tend to respond well to sudden aggressions.”

“Eh?” the woman blinked at him.

“Take a deep breath, woman!” Nomad jabbed a finger into her face. “Haven’t they taught you to listen to your healer? You’re wasting our precious time!”

“Oh…” the woman gulped nervously, blue eyes darting back and forth between the pair of them. “Okay. Um. A deep breath. Yes. I can do that.” Then her eyes fell over her bare chest. “What… You!”

Valens massaged his temples. He could feel the promise of a headache crawling up from the nape of his neck.

“It's not a matter of taste why he’d stripped you half-naked,” Nomad growled at her, disdain stretching his rotten lips thin. “You were a mess. He pulled you out from the Lord’s claws. Be good, now!”

“I’m not dead,” the woman mumbled. She searched blindly around herself, and pulled the broken chestpiece over her bare skin the moment her fingers brushed against it, fumbling with it as her body trembled with a mixture of confusion and pain.

Valens nodded. A momentary shock was hardly a surprise. He’d seen many battle-hardened men wrestle against demons of painful memory. By comparison, the woman took her near-death experience like a true warrior.

She clambered wearily to her feet and wrapped a cloth around her breasts, coughed and swallowed nervously. “The Necromancer… Was he dealt with?”

“You can’t tell? Look around you, we’re still in this damned cave,” Nomad said. “We would be in the thick of a real battle if our healer hadn’t decided to check the corpses. Found you under an Oarfang’s carcass. A well rotten one.”

“So he still lives?” The woman scrunched her nose up as if she smelled something bad. “We should—“

“Easy, now,” Valens said strictly, scowling down at her. “I need to make another check. You still have poison in your blood.”

Letting go of a patient who came close to having been nearly murdered by an enormous beast right after the treatment would be, by all means, a scandalous offense which could’ve cost his reputation if he were in the Empire. Even though his world changed, that didn’t mean Valens would leave the practice drilled into him during his service.

A Lifeward poked the woman wide awake, curious eyes all blue and glinting, checking him up and down as Valens kept an ear over the Resonance. All kinds of wrong tunes returned to him, but some right ones too, the ones that he deemed as important.

“Hmm,” he muttered as he singled out a particularly disturbed set of frequencies, a shambled mess over the otherwise constant rhythm of her skull and brain waves. “A minor concussion, but it's wearing off. Your body’s doing a good job against the poison too. But, best we do another session to wash that completely. I advise you to stay away from trouble for a day or two.”

“Yeah, that ain’t happening.” Nomad jerked a thump toward the corner of the passage, from beyond which came the sounds of a chaotic battle. “I reckon her guild’s close here. Fighting off that bloody bastard.”

“Why are you here?” the woman said suddenly. Bloody threads of golden hair cascaded down her bare shoulders as she turned and gave Nomad a piercing look. “The Lightmaster allowed your Lich to break the Pact. I saw the other undead sucking his venomous fog. So how come you’re standing here, refusing the demands of the Everfog?”

“I’ve told you I was on my way--“

“Bullshit,” the woman fixed him with a glare, then turned slowly to Valens. Her gaze narrowed down at him as she jabbed a shaky hand round the air. “Step back. Both of you! I don’t know what sick game you’re playing here, but I’ll let my guild know about it.”

Nomad’s gaze hardened. Armored hand clenched the sword tight. He raised it high and pointed at the woman’s face, sharp tip itching slowly near her neck. “Don’t try me, human. I’m not known for my patience. We’re here for the same reasons. We’re not the enemy here.”

The woman’s gaze snapped back to Valens. “I don’t know you and you don’t have the Guild’s patch on you, either. Speak! Who the hell are you people? I’ll have you hanged if you dare to lie to me!”

Valens’s neck tensed like a fully drawn bow. He had little idea as to what was happening here, but one thing he was sure of was that this woman smelled of trouble. He doubted if he could get his way if he were to tell her he was from another world. So, he took some inspiration from Nomad’s earlier reasoning, and purposefully managed a pitiful expression over his face to fit the act. “I don’t remember. Found myself here all of a sudden. Something is wrong with my memories.”

“Uh,” Nomad grunted hesitantly, giving him a look. The thrum of his Heartstone quickened, which told Valens that his friend here had also done some injury to the truth of things he’d spoken. Then again, he had all the chances in the world had he wished to harm him in some way, so Valens wasn’t particularly concerned.

Though, he was curious.

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“Let’s say that you’ve forgotten your memories. Then what are you doing with this undead? Can’t you tell that he must be a foul breed, an illicitly roused criminal?” The woman raised an accusing finger into Nomad’s face while her eyes searched around the broken bones. Likely looking for a weapon. Her shoulders sagged when she couldn’t see one in reach. The finger remained pointed, however. “I’ll make sure you pay the price—“

“Can we calm down?” Valens said, stepping over and standing between the two. He tapped a hand over the woman’s finger, and lowered it slowly.

“Now I don’t remember how I got here, but this undead has been most helpful. He was showing me the way around, and doing it at my request, mind you,” Valens said, then he turned to the woman. “On the other hand, I’m not really sure why right after you’ve been granted a second chance you’ve decided to use it to accuse this proud member of the Ninth Legion. I do have to remind you of your position before any of us decide to resort to violence, though.”

“You’re alone, is what he’s saying,” Nomad muttered.

“What about his reasons?” the woman said, hardly convinced.

Good. At least she isn’t suspicious of me now.

“Didn’t you hear? I was helping him!” Nomad growled out. “That’s why I didn’t take the fog in.”

Her pale lips twitched. She wobbled a step back, holding her head as if she was dizzy. It took her a moment to gather herself, after which she continued, “I-I don’t care what the Ninth Legion schemes under that hoax of a world, but this kingdom has its rules! I have to report this criminal—“

“Enough. You do no such thing. Not now, at least. First, you will rest. You’ve been through something terrible and you should be glad that I have found you.” Valens scowled once the pitiful act didn’t seem useful. “And you,” he gave Nomad a glance. “You’re going to tell me everything.”

Nomad mumbled a sour ‘yes’ and the woman cursed silently under her breath.

With that, Valens decided to take a little stroll through the cave, forcing the other two to follow him.

….

It was cold and dreary in the cave. Shadows danced around the boneyard. The broken song of the Heartstones got muddled when another, more subtle tone mixed into their mournful rhythm. Valens swept an eye over the corpses of men and women lying in pools of their own blood about the cave, armors dented and weapons mangled in a horrifying mess.

He heard the woman mumble a prayer at them. She picked up a spear from an older looking man, gently closing his eyes and tapping a fist over his armor. There was nothing below the man’s bloodied torso.

“I’m waiting,” Valens said as Nomad kept stealing glances from him. “Speak.”

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“I’ve not much to say.” Nomad gazed at his sword. “It's all a blur in my head. Memories, I mean. I was searching for something before I came across you, but can’t remember much of it.”

“Why would she say you’re a criminal, then?”

“Because I am one,” he growled. “You don’t understand. A Lich’s order isn’t a mere call for help you can just refuse. It’s a command, one that speaks into your Heartstone. The fog takes control. You can’t resist.”

“But you can?” Valens said. “And that’s because you’re a criminal?”

“That’s the only explanation. I must’ve been buried alive. You ought to be a bastard to deserve that, you know? A real bastard. A murderer.”

“You’ve told me that the criminals can’t become undead. Why are you one, then?”

“That’s the real problem, eh? I don’t remember shit.”

“Shadow’s piece,” the woman hissed through clenched teeth, and spat at the ground.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Valens asked with genuine curiosity.

“She’s trying to say that I’m one of the Shadow’s pawns. You know, the Tainted Father, the King of the Damned, and so on,” Nomad chuckled humorlessly. “They say he likes to play games like this, but I don’t reckon I’ve had any worth to have been picked by that bloody fucker.”

“Uh, yes. Shadow. Sure,” Valens said tiredly. “So we’ve cleared the air for now, then? It's fair to say that the misunderstandings—“

“We’ve cleared nothing, Priest,” the woman hissed at him, one eyebrow arched in doubt. “The Lightmaster will see to it. And you… I’ve never heard of an Arcane Healer, but shouldn’t you be praying as well?”

“Oh,” Valens paused. “Why would I do that?”

The woman blinked at him, before pointing at all the death around them. “These people were men of faith. Their souls need guidance! Guidance only a faithful Priest can provide!”

“I’m not a Priest, and I don’t believe in a god, if that’s what you’re asking,” Valens said.

Nomad stopped at those words, glancing strangely at him. The woman’s eyes widened as the spear slipped from her fingers and clanked onto the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Valens asked the pair of them, feeling a little odd inside.

“You…” the woman’s voice trembled. “That beast crushed my chest! You couldn’t have possibly healed me without divine grace!” She snapped the spear back from the ground and raised it toward Valens. “Speak! You’re not from Melton, are you? Where did you come from? Or are you… of Baht’s cult? The traitor's spawn? If so, I shall end you now!”

Nomad glared at her before shaking his head. “I told you to leave her. She’s gone completely mad.”

“Look, I don’t know who this Baht is, but I don’t believe in any God,” Valens said tiredly. “And mind you, I certainly don’t need any sort of divine grace to fix a patient. My skills alone are adequate enough for the job, thank you very much.”

“You expect me to believe that?” the woman said.

Nomad patted him on the back. “I know the woman’s mad, but you don’t have to lie, eh? We’re all speaking our truths, now, don’t we? Just say it. I won’t judge even if you serve in a secret cult.”

“Hah…” Valens sighed out a long, weary breath. It seemed he had to pick every word coming out of his mouth lest he’d offend people of this world. First, he was taken to be a racist by Nomad, and now this woman accused him of being a part of some twisted cult.

What do I even say? Even though the Empire was full of bigoted fools, they never tried to force some belief over the people. That’s different here, I guess?

“If I have to say something, then you can consider me as a foreigner who happened to have lost his memories. Yes. Let’s go with that.” Valens said, and raised a hand at the woman. “Let me add one more thing, though. I don’t appreciate the tone you’re using against me as if I’m some terrible criminal with blood in my hands. As you witnessed firsthand, my job is to heal people, and I’m damned good at it.”

The woman tensed back at those words, lowering her spear. The poison in her bloodflow and the minor concussion around her brain likely had played a part in her sudden outbursts, but Valens had to put her in place.

“Good one.” Nomad winked at him. “We’ll talk later.”

“I wasn’t lying— You know what, It doesn’t matter.“ Valens sighed. “Speaking about the truths, though, she didn’t tell us anything about herself.”

“Why, she did!” Nomad sniggered. “She made it completely clear that she’s just some nut job. They don’t have much depth, her lot. Simpleminded folk with simple values. You know, the usual twist.”

“Says the criminal granted a false stone,” the woman said.

“Tough,” Nomad tapped a finger into his sword. “You want to see if my sword’s false as well?”

“I’ll smash your brainless skull right here—“

“Enough!” Valens said. “There isn’t enough air in this cave already. I don’t need you two wasting any more. Shut it.”

That gave him some peace as Nomad and the woman put some distance between them, both catching his eyes in a mixture of emotions.

Valens stared at them, managing his best scowl to keep their mouths shut. He was already in a different world and trying to understand the currents with which this place was governed. He needed not a pair of stubborn fools getting at each other for reasons he hardly cared.

The Resonance filled into his mind almost instinctively. A well to pour his thoughts in. Or a Resonant Healer’s own world of escape, Master Eldras had used to say. Different frequencies weighed over his thoughts. He looked around with his sound vision and picked out a stray tune amidst the mournful song, one that thumped rather strongly at the web of his ears.

Oh?

It had a strange, brutish tune to it, coming from round the next turn where muffled sounds of battle echoed. He couldn’t catch the details, but it belonged to a sprawling, wavering outline that refused to settle on a fixed form. Though it lacked any touch of conscience, it still felt alive. Almost.

“Now that makes me curious,” he said, loud enough to catch the pair’s attention trudging after him. “Something’s waiting there around the corner. Something strange.”

……