MaerBear
patreon
Chapter 33: Loved Ones Back Home
🕑 Added 2023-07-17 07:02:00 +0000 UTC“Do you want another dose?” asked nurse Amhara.
Ren stared at her. What kind of monster would threaten a patient with that kind of torture again.
“Then I suggest you stop trying to get up and let me pour your water for you. You haven’t been cleared to get out of bed, which means you are still at risk of destabilizing your newly healed bones.”
He felt fine. Or good enough. And he was so gods-damned tired of lying in this bed. But… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to wait a little longer. He deflated.
Amhara smiled, just a little too much pleasure sparkling in her eyes. How could they let a sadist like her work as a nurse?
No. He was being harsh. He could feel that she did care. Maybe too much. Maybe in a way that he hated. But she did care.
The tent flap rustled and a chorus of soft thuds told him a group was approaching behind the curtain. Please, Bloody Light, not the damned investigators again.
Amhara disappeared to greet the newcomers. “Can I help you?”
“Ya, we’re looking for our friend.” Hamsa’s voice.
Who could he be looking for?
“Is recruit Ren here by chance?”
“Just behind that curtain. But you better not rile him up, or let him get out of his bed. Got it?” Amhara’s voice had a way of getting hard when she was giving a directive.
“Got it, ma’am.”
“Very good, I’m going to do my rounds.”
Four people appeared around the curtain. Hamsa led them, his usual confident smile gleaming. Gunney followed, running his fingers across the tray of gleaming medical implements.
“Don’t touch those, fool,” said Bahmul, right behind the older man. “Those need to be clean so they don't spread infection.”
“You calling me dirty, book-licker?” Gunney squared up to him, craning his head to meet his eyes.
“No, you dolt, haven’t you ever heard of bacteria?”
“So now I’m stupid and dirty?” The gruff man’s lip twitched up a hair. He was just playing now.
Bahmul scoffed and opened his mouth to retort, but Rhami pushed her way between the two men, worry melting off her face as her eyes traced Ren’s body.
“You two shut up.” Hamsa finally interjected. “I doubt Ren wants to hear us squabbling.”
“You don’t look hurt to me, kid,” said Gunney. “Just lying about to take a break, are you?”
Ren might’ve taken offense if it weren’t for the laughter dancing behind Gunney’s eyes.
Hamsa shook his head wearily at Gunney, but gave Ren an appraising gaze nonetheless. “He’s right though. You don’t look so bad that you should be on bedrest.’
“They gave me some special medicine that reset my bones,” he waved his arm about. The skin was still dark around where it had broken. Apparently it needs time to set.”
“Bone-flower broth?” asked Bahmul, leaning in.
Ren nodded, grimacing.
“Wow, I’ve heard of that. Potent stuff,” said Hamsa. Bahmul nodded sagely in agreement. “You must have gotten really worked over. I’m actually surprised they wasted some on a recruit. What happened?”
“Wait,” Bahmul cut in. “From what I’ve read, such a treatment would require the patient at least have an awakened dantian-”
“Grip yer runnin lips. A fish can only swim in one river,” said Rhami.
Ren paused. They all did. What the hell did that mean? And was that even true about fish? He was pretty sure it wasn’t. No, he was missing the point.
Gunney, surprisingly, was the first to signal comprehension with a nod. “Girl’s right. One question at a time.”
Ren looked to Rhami again, and she nodded confirmation of the translation. He decided to answer the easy question first. “Ya, I’ve been messing with my body’s Qi for a while now. Awakened it on the road to Rattan.” Before more questions could bombard him he answered Hamsa. “Got attacked the other night. Broken bones. But I’m okay now. Doc says I should be back in fighting shape in time for the trials.”
Gunney’s eyes darkened. “Figured as much when I found this.” He pulled two pieces of wood from under his tunic.
Realization hit Ren in the gut like a knee in the dark. Harder actually. It was the ney. One of the last pieces of his uncle left. The bastards had broken it. Music was the one thing he still had. The one way he could escape the grueling push of training day after day. Of acting like it didn’t bother him that everyone seemed to look down on him. Of being alone in a hard place full of strangers and sharp steel.
Bahmul scowled. “Vacuous swine! I’ve been looking forward to hearing you play that ever since it fell from your pack.”
“But we actually started looking for you for another reason,” said Hamsa, pulling an envelope out of a satchel that hung from his belt. “Mail got sorted wrong and this ended up at my bunk. Couldn’t find you so I got the old crew together to look.”
Ren took the letter and the pieces of his ney. He smiled and forced out a few laughs and offered his thanks. And he was thankful. Thankful to have friends here who cared enough to come looking for him. But his eyes kept darting toward the letter, and he pointedly avoided looking at the broken instrument, and he really just needed them to go. Dread and hope mixed together into a slurry of secret desperation. Was his family okay?
Thankfully, his friends seemed to pick up on his preoccupation and they departed. But they did update him about the upcoming competition. Groups had apparently been set for the first round of the trials, the Melee. He wasn’t in the same group as any of them. A small mercy that he wouldn’t have to fight against any of his friends, he supposed.
He took a deep breath as their footsteps faded out past the canvas walls of the tent and reached for the envelope.
There were three pages inside. The first folded up tightly, every crease laid with precision, but also—why was it folded so many times? He plucked it from the envelope and peeled it apart, trying not to rip the paper in his eagerness.
Ren,
You better be staying safe. You should be finishing up training around now and your family wanted to check in. Make sure you are updating them often, they are too good of people for you to worry them because you’re too lazy to write a letter.
-Norn
He couldn’t help from grinning. He’d missed her insults, and the look she always gave him–like his head was full of rocks.
He pulled the next letter out. This one was folded in perfect thirds to fit in the envelope. His mother’s flowing script covered the page.
My dear sweet boy,
We miss you so much. I miss you. I bet you’re making all kinds of friends, and all the girls love you, but a mother can’t help but worry. Your adorable, sweet little friend, Norn, has assured me repeatedly that you’ll be a medic so there is no need to worry over your safety. Ren, please please please stay safe. I’ve heard horror stories about the front lines and how they treat the base level soldiers.
Mrs. Kalindi’s son enlisted last year as a regular in the infantry, and she was so proud of him when he got posted up in the north to fend off the barbarians, but she just got word that he was injured in a battle. He lost an arm and cracked his skull and they don’t know if he’ll live to see home again.
So, Ren-ji, please do whatever it takes to stay safe. If that means being a cook and not making enough for our payments, then that is what I want you to do. You are already a hero to us and your siblings. It breaks my heart thinking about the challenges you have faced at your age. But things will work out somehow so don’t push yourself.
Your father got his first treatment at the military clinic, and he’s doing a little better already. He can sit up in bed now, and soon he should be able to walk again. And I know he doesn’t say much, but he’s so proud of you.
The twins now play ‘Ren vs the Barbarian horde’. They look up to you so much. You are already their hero, so you don’t need to try to be one.
You are such an amazing son, and such a great older brother. We are so lucky.
Love,
Mom
The letter was also signed by his father and the twins. Dad’s handwriting was shaky and uneven, Asana’s was the usual chicken scratch, and Mako’s was neat and curly like an imitation of their mother.
His eyes stung and he realized his face was wet with tears. He wiped them away with the sheet that covered him and pulled out the final letter. The folds were messy and uneven, and the page was covered in loose messy scribble. Asana.
Mom doesn’t know I’m writing you. Dad’s been really sick and mom is crying all the time. Norn is really cool. She says you’re going to be a doctor. I think that’s great. You always take care of Mako and me. And when I grow up and become a warrior you can patch me up.
I can’t wait to hear your war stories. You’re just like Sethjanaz the Wild from that story dad likes to tell. The other kids at the market don’t believe me, but I know when you come home you’ll prove them wrong.
The real reason I’m writing is mom didn’t want to tell you the truth. I heard her talking to the Osirus and they said if they don’t get more money soon we’ll have our rations decreased. We’ve all been so hungry, and mom is giving half her food to dad already so he can recover. Norn says the food shortage is all over, but sometimes she brings bread.
I thought you should know. I know you’ll save us.
-Asana
PS Mako says hi and be careful.
Ren was sure Mako had helped her with the spelling. He tried to focus on the image of the twins bickering over the letter, probably up late after mom and dad had gone to sleep, but he couldn’t escape the queasy feeling in his gut.
What would happen to them if he failed to move up a pay grade after the trials? Would they starve? Would his father die because Ren was too weak to prove himself here? The thoughts swirled and dragged him down. Bile rose in the back of his throat.
No.
He pushed it all down. He would make it work because he had to. If his family needed him to be the next Sethjanaz, he would be.
