Path of Dragons 3 - Chapter 41 - Deserters (Patreon)

Carmen was in her element.

After spending so long away from the forge, she’d nearly forgotten how much of her identity had become wrapped around being a Blacksmith. But now that she’d been given access to a smithy – even if it was poorly equipped – she was reminded why she’d chosen the path of the crafter that first day of the apocalypse. At the time, she’d thought it was because of her past working with primitive skills, but since then, she’d come to recognize the simple joy of creation that came from her work.

That was why she did it.

And more than anything, she wished Miguel would follow in her footsteps. Being able to hold his own in a fight was important. Necessary, even. However, she’d never wanted him to devote his life to violence. Still, the boy had all but chosen his path. He worshipped Colt, and he spent the vast majority of his time training.

She just hoped he wasn’t doing it solely in pursuit of a revenge he would probably never get. Carmen had followed that path, albeit briefly, and she knew it was bound to end in ruin. She didn’t want that for her son. Since her failures – and there were so many of them that she’d lost count – she had vowed to leave that sort of thing behind. Instead, she would focus on survival. And once that was assured, she would rededicate her life to creation.

Because that was infinitely better than pursuing violence.

Of course, Carmen wasn’t so deluded that she thought she’d always feel the same. Anytime her mind fluttered past the memories of what Roman had done to Alyssa – and to Colt, as well as all the people who’d died in the rebellion – her anger flared. Working the forge was a useful coping mechanism for that. Nothing was quite as therapeutic as repeatedly banging her hammer into hot metal.

Well, nothing except doing the same to a certain tyrant’s head. Perhaps she hadn’t moved quite as far past the notion of violence as she wanted to believe.

In any case, she focused on the task at hand, which was to bring the town of Eber’s smithy up to her standards. The first step was repairing the forge, which was little more than a fire pit surrounded by a few bricks. Such a design was serviceable, but it was better to build an actual furnace, if for no other reason than so that it could maintain heat for longer. In the back of her mind, though, Carmen could acknowledge that her insistence on building a proper forge was based at least partially on a sense of completion and order. Such a structure appealed to her perfectionism.

With that in mind, she started in on the process. It wasn’t difficult. There were plenty of bricks around. On top of that, she could spare the ethera to use Bond to create an airtight seal between bricks. It was time-consuming, though, and it took most of the day to finish the project to her standards.

After returning to the longhouse to eat a hearty meal that tasted better than almost anything she’d ever eaten, Carmen started in on creating a proper anvil. Once that was finished, she forged some tools. And finally, just before the end of the day, she completed work on a pedal-operated grinder.

As she stood at the entrance to the smithy, she put her hands on her hips and let out a relieved sigh. It had come together better and more quickly than she ever could have expected. Much of the burden had been eased by her various techniques and skills, but her inflated Strength certainly came in handy as well.

“Oh, this is wonderful!” came Wendy’s voice.

Carmen turned to see the grey-haired woman grinning broadly as she beheld the remodeled smithy. So, she said, “It’s passable. I still need a proper smelter. And I’d like to forge some good files for detail work. But for now, it’ll do the job.”

“It is fantastic!” the woman insisted, clutching her hands before her.

Carmen wiped her dirty hands on a rag, then wrapped it over her shoulder. “I can’t believe none of you are crafters,” she said. “How did that happen?”

“A quirk of coincidence,” Wendy answered.

“Some coincidence. What about the two missing people?” she asked. They’d only been in Eber for three days, but each night had seen a single deserter. First, it had been Diana, but then Seth had disappeared during the second night. Now, Theresa, of all people, was missing.

“Our hunters tracked them for a few miles,” Wendy said. “But we didn’t dare go any further than that. The wilderness is dangerous.”

Carmen sighed. “You don’t have to tell me that,” she acknowledged. It was terrible that the others hadn’t even bothered to tell anyone they were leaving, but she understood it. They were probably resentful to have been banished like everyone else. Or that was how Carmen justified their sudden departure.

In the back of her mind, though, doubts persisted. She chose not to pay attention to that sort of paranoia. Eber had turned out to be a paradise. The people were kind, there was plenty of food, and there was a chance for each of them to create a real life. Even more importantly, they didn’t have to worry about monster attacks. The three days of safety they’d experienced since their arrival had been enough to bring Carmen nearly to tears.

No - if the deserters couldn’t see what an opportunity the town represented, that was their problem.

“Can you make equipment, now? We do not have much steel, but we have done some scavenging,” Wendy stated.

“Yeah,” Carmen answered, looking at the scrap metal with which she had been provided. Most of it was rebar, but there were some old car parts and a lot of steel tools as well. In all, there was at least a few hundred pounds of usable material, which meant that it was enough to make plenty of equipment. “What do you want me to work on? Armor or weapons?”

“Armor.”

“You know a good weapon can make –”

“Armor, please. Especially breastplates. As sturdy as you can create,” Wendy stated.

“Alright…I can do that,” Carmen said. “But I can’t get started until tomorrow. Is that okay?”

“Of course!” Wendy answered. “You should work at your own pace. Obviously.”

“Oh. Good. I’m starving.”

Hearing that, Wendy smiled broadly and ushered Carmen through the town and to the longhouse, where everyone else had already begun to dig into the extravagant meal they’d been provided.

“You really know how to put on a feast,” Carmen said, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

“Indeed. It is the one thing we can do well,” she said. “Go. Eat. We’ll talk about your project in the morning.”

Carmen didn’t need any more encouragement, and she quickly found a spot at the table, where she started shoveling meat, potatoes, and vegetables onto her plate. As she ate, she steadily lost all sense of decorum, and soon enough, she was using her bare hands to stuff as much food as she could into her mouth.

Even after she’d sated her hunger, she kept going.

It wasn’t until she felt like she was on the verge of bursting that she leaned back and really looked at the people who’d followed her into exile. Each and every one of them had food and grease smeared all over their faces. They were all smiling, too. However, there were a couple with tears streaming down their cheeks.

Clearly, they were overjoyed at the abundance before them. It was a testament to how much they’d been through that a simple meal could bring them to tears.

She was busy ruminating on that when someone grabbed her shoulder. Instincts born from weeks in the wilderness – where every step brought new threats – came to the fore. She whipped around and exploded out of her seat. Before she knew what she was doing, she had her assailant by the throat and had slammed her against the wall.

That’s when her mind caught up to her instincts and she realized who it was. A blonde woman – the same one who’d greeted them on that first day – stared back at her, clearly unimpressed.

Carmen released the woman’s neck, vaguely noticing that her fingers had left no marks. In fact, the blonde woman’s skin hadn’t felt quite right. Not nearly as elastic as normal skin. Perhaps it was a skill. Or maybe her Constitution was just that high. In any case, Carmen was embarrassed to have reacted so violently, so she said, “I’m sorry. Old habits.”

“It’s fine,” she said. Then, her eyes flicked to the others at the table. Carmen followed her gaze, but she was surprised to see that no one had reacted to her outburst. Instead, they continued to stuff their faces. The woman asked, “May we speak in private? What I have to say is not for –”

“Willa!” came a shout from the door. Carmen turned to see that Wendell was standing there, anger clearly etched on his face. “Leave our guests alone. You have responsibilities.”

Willa started to say something, but then thought better of it. With a sigh, her shoulders drooped, and she said, “Yes. I was just here to ensure our…guests had everything they needed.”

“They do.”

“I see that now. I will take my leave,” Willa said. Then, to Carmen, and without moving her mouth, she whispered, “Run.”

After that, she slipped around Carmen and marched toward the door.

Confused, Carmen watched the woman until she’d left the longhouse behind. The moment she was gone, the kindly-looking Wendell grinned broadly and asked if everyone was enjoying their supper. When they said they were, he encouraged them to, “Eat, eat! There’s plenty more where that came from!”

Then, he left everyone – including a slightly confused Carmen – behind.

“What’s up, boss?” asked Colt, looking up from where he’d been shoving food into his face. He looked so uncharacteristically enthusiastic. Normally, he was the epitome of stoicism. But now…

Carmen’s issues melted away. “Nothing,” she said, the incident all but forgotten. “Just making sure we have everything we need.”

Then, she sat down and continued to eat, not stopping until the last of the food was gone. Even then, everyone present looked for more, and when they didn’t find it, they left disappointed. That night, Carmen slept poorly, so she was a little cranky – and hungry – when she woke up the next morning. Fortunately, there was another feast for breakfast, which everyone took to with gusto.

But there was one person missing.

“Where’s Charles?” she asked around a mouthful of porridge.

Colt shrugged. “Must’ve wanted to move on,” he said. “Same as the others.”

“Right,” Carmen muttered. Was she so terrible that the other refugees would leave such a paradisical town just to get away from her? Clearly, they’d harbored quite a lot of enmity, if they’d so readily leave safety, food, and community behind. And without even saying goodbye.

She looked around. How many others were planning to leave? They all looked happy enough, but so had the others.

Sighing, Carmen pushed away from the table.

“You’re done? There’s plenty left,” Colt said. He’d already eaten what had to be his weight in porridge and fat, greasy sausages, but he’d kept going all the same. There was something else off about him, though Carmen couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. Still it was like a burr in her mind.

“Not hungry,” she answered, gripping his shoulder reassuringly. It was clammy and wet with sweat. “I’m going to get the forge up and running, see if I can start working on the armor Wendy asked me to make. I need to earn my keep, after all.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, going back to his meal.

That’s when she realized what was wrong. “Where is your sword?”

“Oh, that? I didn’t think I needed it ‘round here,” he said. “No monsters to fight, right? Why would I carry that useless thing around?”

That made sense, though it still struck Carmen as wrong. But if he didn’t want to carry a sword, she certainly wouldn’t make him. The less violence in the world, the better, as far as she was concerned.

So, with a shrug, she once again reiterated her plan, then headed out to the forge to get to work. As she traversed the village, she couldn’t help but notice how many of the townspeople watched her, most of whom wore the same blank expressions that she’d seen from a few people the first time she’d led her people into town.

“Weird,” she muttered, wondering if she’d done something wrong. Perhaps they were angry that she hadn’t held up her end of the bargain. That made some sense. So, Carmen resolved to get a few pieces done, just to show that she was willing to work for all that amazing food she’d been given.