316

As your body calms from the rush to escape you begin to feel your injuries a little more. Naked, bruised and concussed, with still-caking blood on the side of your head, you look like you came out of the wars.

The sun begins to burn as you move into the valley, rejoining the path and walking toward the Citadel looming up above you. You shouldn’t be especially tired with most of the days still ahead of you, yet your legs feel like lead and you struggle to keep your balance. You end up hunching over and seeing only a few metres ahead on the path.

You’re vaguely aware of the track winding to and fro from left to right, never going in a straight line very long. Likewise the terrain rises and falls under you, not enormously, but just enough that you notice without having to see it.

You come into shade and straighten up to see what is blocking the sun. You’ve arrived near one of the small fortified farms. The place is surrounded by a stone wall made of prismatic volcanic rocks for bricks. You remember hearing that the entire fortress up above is made of them. They’re highly resistant to weathering, and stay a dark shade of grey no matter how much sunlight falls upon them. It’s a welcome change from the blinding chalk-white of the much-used footpath.

Almost without noticing, you stop in front of the entrance. You’re outright caught by surprise when a woman’s voice calls out to you. You pull out of your daze somewhat and see a girl walking hurriedly towards you. She shouts an unfamiliar name to you, but catches herself when you turn your face her way.

“What happened to you?” she asks upon reaching you. You try to speak but the words come out a little jumbled. You manage to mumble about falling and being attacked.

“Come with me.” She can see you’re not coherent, which you find odd, as although your body is stiff all over, your thoughts are clear. You feel you shouldn’t be struggling to articulate.

You’re led by the hand into the property, and then into the main house. You can’t see very well inside, but the girl guides you into a chair, and soon after has you drink. The liquid feels hot in your throat, and you realize it must be ****. A tepid, wet cloth is dabbed against your head injury, washing away the blood. You discover a cup is in your hand, and try to finish its contents. With each sip you feel a little better. Restore 1 VITALS point. After downing the last drop, you try and speak again.

“Thank you.” you manage, and to your relief, the words come out clear. Additionally, your eyes have adjusted to the light, and so you can see the girl waiting for you to recover. She nods at your thanks, but doesn’t smile. You soon see why. She’s holding up an object from your backpack, which lies on the floor, contents sprawled all over the floor. You don’t remember doing so, but you must have dropped it on the floor.

“How did you get this?” she asks. What is she holding?