Born a Monster-Chapter 486
486 Night and Morning
βHm?β I mumbled. βIs it my guard shift again?β πππππ eπ£π·π°Ρ΅eπ.com
βWhat? Hell no.β a female voice responded.
Well, there was only one reaction for that; I stretched out, fluffed my pillow, and started back to sleep.
βWake up!β she hissed. βWake up, or Iβll slit your throat.β
I grunted, and grumbled something. As if by magic, I found a blade pressed against my neck. It was cool to the touch, and sharp. With a final protest, I opened my eyes.
Yes, my human eyes. Which were buried in the pillow, and could see nothing.
I gradually became aware of the young woman sitting on my lower back. She smelled like a mixture of paprika and cinnamon.
βSholwyr?β I asked.
βNot so loud.β she whispered. βWhat are you even doing here?β
.....
βInfiltrating the army.β I said. βYou?β
βNever mind me.β then she took a deep breath and sighed. βInfiltrating the army. Are you trying to assassinate the Fire-Friend captain?β
βHm?β I rolled the words around, looking for whatever meaning would let me get back to bed quicker. βNo, no. Iβm supposed to find a way to disrupt the supply caravan.β
βWhat the... What are you doing HERE?β Sholwyr asked.
βThe Conclave of Thorns is insane.β I said. βIβve ended up here because they wonβt leave me alone.β
βThatβs not even... shit!β she said, throwing herself to the left and down.
The tent flap opened. βKid.β Ragnal said. βShut the hell up and get some sleep. We work sixteen hours tomorrow.β
I did some quick math in my head. βNot fourteen?β
I couldnβt tell if he was shaking his head or using his beard to brush his hand. βKid... You are sleeping in a cot.β
βYes.β I said. βIt is much more comfortable than the ground, thank you.β
βBigni and I will be up before dawn. Weβre going to wake you. If you donβt get. Some. Sleep. Then tomorrow will be very, very bad for you. You understand?β
βI understand.β
βGood, then stop talking to your imaginary friends. Good night.β
βGood night, Ragnal.β I said.
He let the tent flap fall closed. Before you think I was in some sort of officerβs or luxury tent, it was a fabric and leather box so small my cot stretched both walls, and Ragnal could easily slash open the back wall from the door, were he so inclined.
Sholwyr slowly, carefully, pulled her head over the edge of the cot. βThat. Was. Ragnal.β she said. βOne of the Dark Narwhals.β
βBlack Narwhal.β I whispered back to her.
βHow has he not sussed out who you are?β she asked.
I shrugged. βLack of focus?β I suggested.
βYou are an idiot. Do you know who that WAS?β
I smacked my lips together. βI gather not, by your reaction.β
βYou want to live one tent over from HIM? Heβs the closest thing they have to Miletus. Maybe even better.β
I stretched out quietly.
βIβm serious.β she said. βHe survived being thrown into a river full of Makura.β
βIβve survived...β
βItβs not the same!β then, βIf you endanger my mission, I. Will. Kill. You.β she said.
I wrinkled my face, then yawned. βWhat IS your mission here, Sholwyr?β
βWhat? I canβt tell you THAT.β
βHow do I navigate around...β
βJust go to sleep.β she said. βAnd donβt freaking do anything that kills anyone above a third sergeant, if you can help it.β
What? What had become of my reputation NOW? I had one, only one, level in a Military class. How was I supposed to... You know what? Two people had told me to just go to sleep. With a final yawn, I did so.
Ragnal was true to his word, flipping the cot upside down on top of me. βI said. Get. Up. Exercise takes time.β
βHuh?β I said, or something similarly profound.
βUp.β he clapped his hands. βUp, up. As a group, we exercise together.β
βMeh.β I said, rolling the cot off me. Even as a yawn rolled forth from me, I sat up. βI suppose I canβt decline?β
βYou suppose correctly.β he said.
I emerged into the night sky, the cool night air. I squinted, turning in a circle. βThe sun isnβt even coloring the horizon.β
βWelcome to our world, young soldier.β Bigni said. βNow pay attention. Weβre going through the stretches that loosen your muscles.β
βIβm going through stretches.β Ragnal said. βYouβre just flapping your gums.β
Bigni replied with a yawn that would have done a dog proud, exposing his sharp teeth to the chill of the night. But it might have been for show, because he walked me through ten minutes of stretches and light exercises.
THEN the real work started, forty four minutes of arduous repetition, possibly originally designed as a torture technique. Variants of it, Bigni told me, existed in all armies across the world.
βItβs why soldiers... real soldiers... are worth two or more militiafolk.β
βLike the bulk of the army we have here.β Ragnal said.
Bigni continued as though Ragnal had remained silent. βSure, anyone can be trained to hold a weapon. But soldiers maintain their weapons, their fitness, their discipline. We can perform as a unit, not just a group of rabble. Our morale is better, our fighting is better, and we can do it longer.β
I was having enough problems getting air into my lungs; I didnβt dare to respond and risk the breathing that was going on.
βThereβs a leap of ability power at each level.β Ragnal said, βBut thatβs not the only measure of strength.β
βJust so.β Bigni agreed. βBut... ten counts of butterfly sit-ups and then letβs go splash some water on our faces.β
I accepted the hand he offered, and was almost surprised that I could stand without swaying.
βHeh.β Ragnal said. βLook at the color of his face; heβs been away from proper exercise for too long.β
Ah, the water was glorious! Cold and wet and...
[Exposure to Yellow Fever. Resistance confirmed.]
βAnal assfarts!β I exclaimed. βI just got over that infection.β
Ragnal tasted the water, spat to his left.
Bigni sighed. βAgain?β
βNot as strong this time.β Ragnal replied, upending the barrel. βBut yeah. Itβs still making the rounds.β
βHow,β Bigni asked, βdo you survive to adulthood in such pestilent lands?β
βThe same as everywhere, I guess.β I said. βMothers, herbs, magic in some cases, faith in others. And yet, I am told roughly one in ten doesnβt make it to adulthood. It amazes me that a full half died getting to adulthood during the Dragon Age.β
Ragnal squinted. βThat,β he said, βhas to be human propaganda. I mean, look around today and tell me that thereβs any shortage of humans.β
Bigni nodded. βAnd that figure, the one in ten, that sounds low to me. It is unlikely that human mothers care more for their children than real peopleβs mothers do.β
I held up my hands. βIβve done no study on either figure, myself. And I yield that the Graveyard of Hattan would be overflowing if those figures were accurate.β
But... could they have been accurate? That amount of death would explain how the place had become an undead nexus. But then, where were the other massive graveyards that had to exist? Ghouls couldnβt have eaten them all, could they?
Ragnal slapped me across the furred part of my head. βHey, pay attention, kid. We still need to find a clean source of water.β
It wasnβt hard; the next barrel was safe when we got to it, and I left it alone as we left.
After a quick washing and hydrating, it was time to return to camp, and don armor.
βI donβt have armor that wasnβt confiscated.β I said.
βItβs your turn to do the supply run.β Ragnal said.
βNo, I even have that recorded in my System.β Bigni said. And then, βAh, Lokiβs Balls on Fire. Okay, I guess itβs my turn.β He made a flicking motion and sighed.
βShouldnβt take long.β Ragnal said. βHeβs small.β
βYou know it doesnβt work like that.β
βIt had better not take long.β Ragnal snorted. βCaptain needs both of us if another citizen soldier gets uppity.β π³π―πeπeππ―πΞ½πl.πoπ’
βCitizen soldier?β I asked.
βOur name for the land grubbers.β Bigni said. βThe colonist militia.β
.....
βOh.β I said. βBut why would they have any reason to complain? It seems to me that they were getting some good chunks of farmland back north in Whitehill.β
βLet me get my armor on, Iβll see what I can explain while weβre waiting on your new soldierβs kit.β Bigni said.
Ever notice how long twenty minutes is when youβre just dying to learn something?
For those of you fortunate enough not to know, a butterfly sit up brings the right elbow to the outside of the left kneecap, and then down, and up the other way, left to outside right. Two reps, or repetitions, made a single βcountβ. At no point are your shoulder blades allowed to touch the ground, or your count starts all over again.
Because I wasnβt about to try spreading diseases without even a casting. It just doesnβt end well if you do that continuously. Or, since it involves heinous things happening to the one spreading disease and death, I suppose it does end well ... for everyone else.