21. Wound (Patreon)

Men were a nuisance.

That was a truth that became apparent as of late. The only men Aloe had seen as a positive influence and helpful were members of her family, and maybe Jafar. But that one was treading on a thin line. Only women had goodwill in their blood.

Well, even further than that, females.

It truly made Aloe’s blood boil that the stable master didn’t even know Fikali’s favorite food. But she managed to contain herself from decking the man straight in the face.

Just barely.

“That will be two drupnars.” The stable master extended his hand.

Wordlessly, and with a very expressive sigh, Aloe reached into her satchels and took out two small copper coins.

“Thanks for your patronage.” The man grinned. “I’ll see you in the future.”

Aloe ignored him and turned to her dweller. “Come on, Fikali. Let’s go.”

“Wrooo!” She was unaware of the conversation and Aloe’s sour mood, plainly overjoyed to see her again. Though mostly because she knew what was to come.

The dweller awkwardly bounced on her belly, the load on her saddle bobbling up and down as she made it to the main streets of Sadina. Soon enough, the two of them made it to the city doors.

The guards didn’t stop them, but Aloe gazed back at the city.

Even though Sadina continued to work as always, animals of burden moving merchandising across the open streets, clerks on the bazaar’s tents, and people living their lives, she still saw it.

The loom of the death.

People were like that, even if death was in the city, one had to eat. You couldn’t just not work. Sickness would mean quick death; hunger was different only in that it was slower. They hid it behind their expressions, but they knew it. They could be next.

Aloe was surprised at herself, even if her own mother had died because of this plague, she hadn’t cared much about getting infected. Mainly because she hadn’t cared about living these last two days.

“Only two days?” She sighed as she turned her head to the desert.

“Huo?” The bobbly monster tilted her head to the side in confusion, not understanding her master’s statement.

“It’s nothing, Fikali.” Aloe forced a smile and patted the dweller on the head. You are a campfire on a desert night. With that thought, that smile became ever-so-true.

{*}

The problem with leaving at noon was that the sun thrashed violently. The dunes became mirrors depending on the angle you looked at them and air the insides of a furnace. Thankfully, Aloe enjoyed a personal airstream.

“Faster!” She commanded as the dunes blurred in the background.

“Wroooo!” Fikali complied with a grunt and put even more speed on her swim.

The air was indeed hot, but when moving at such speeds, it became cold and refreshing.

Aloe had expected that Fikali might not be able to move at these speeds considering she had a way greater load on her back than when they came back to Sadina, but those two days had not only been a good rest for the dweller but also a source of boredom.

The sand monster pushed herself, not because her master commanded it, but because she wanted the speed. Resting on a pen was good for a while, but it was obvious that she enjoyed far more the freedom and speed, even at her advanced age.

Aloe tried not to think of it as she held for her life on the reins, but the thought was insidious. You are going to leave me too. It wouldn’t be soon but in a year or two...

She let those thoughts fly free.

Swimming across the dunes was an exciting and fun activity, not to be burdened by sadness and loss. Aloe let herself enjoy the speed and the blurriness of the background as the dweller did.

Fikali was a monster in more than one sense of the word. Aloe was still flabbergasted at the speeds an old dweller could get. How fast could a young one be? It was an equally fascinating and terrifying thought. I guess that’s why they don’t have any predators. Monsters infested the dunes at night, but the dwellers were the only ones who came during the day and were domesticated by humankind.

The reasons for that were beyond Aloe’s understanding. Karaim did theorize monsters were just Evolved animals, but how? There was an inherent problem with that theory. If someone did evolve them, then when? Dwellers and monsters have been around for centuries if not more. And there’s no mention of Evolution anywhere...

Nobles, but especially imperials, had special abilities. And some said that assassins had also ones that allowed them to keep themselves hidden in the shadows, but that was more of a rumor, a tale of the snake tongues, than anything else.

Did one of them do it? Once again, Aloe couldn’t tell. She didn’t know how their abilities and magic worked. She, though, doubted they were like Evolution. Otherwise, the fauna and flora of Ydaz would have been far more different. Far more mystical, far more presence of creatures like dwellers or plants like the Aloe Veritas.

Whilst incredibly interesting, Aloe knew those thoughts were dangerous. Associating with the imperials was dangerous, a decision that she had to unfortunately confront in the near future, but even more so with assassins.

These were questions that would go unresolved, for she could not inquire about them.

She had been so deep in her trance, her mussitations and theories, that she hadn’t noticed the pain in her body.

Surprisingly enough, it did not come from her calves or buttocks, but her hands.

Without letting go of the reins, Aloe looked at their hands. Originally black and brown, with the faintest trickles of white and pink, they were now searing red. Traces of bruises that neared purple.

Aloe lowered her body, her chest pressing against the backside of Fikali's head, and calmly whispered. “Stop.”

Calmness dictated her voice and body mannerisms.

The dweller obeyed, even if there weren’t any appropriate places for a stop. It took Fikali a full minute to come to a halt, that was the sheer magnitude of speed she had reached. Once the momentum was totally canceled out, Aloe slowly dismounted her, feeling a bit dizzy in the process.

She dropped to the ground, the hot sand heating her backside, but she didn’t worry much about it.

“Yeah, this is bad.” Both of her hands were bloodied and incredibly irritated.

It soon became apparent that this wasn’t because of Fikali’s speed forcing her to grab the reins with such force, but because of more psychological reasons.

She almost had to peel the leather of the rein strips out of her hand, the blood working as a powerful and gruesome adhesive. Those wounds weren’t symbols of damage or, at least, not of the type one might initially think.

Aloe stood for a few seconds looking at the clear skies absentmindedly, only snapping out of her trance because Fikali nudged her arm with her snoot.

“Hro?” The amount of worry in the dweller’s face was staggering.

“I’m fine,” Aloe patted Fikali’s head with the backside of her hand whilst giving her the fakest smile she had ever uttered. “I just need a moment.”

Before doing anything else, Aloe took a single pistachio out.

“Here.” And feed with her finger the single nut to the dweller.

With just that, Fikali visibly calmed.

“Good girl.” She patted her again, her smile becoming ever-so-truer.

Next, she grabbed one of her many waterskins and poured the contents into her hands. The mildly cold water didn’t hurt her, actually, her hands were rather numb. After cleaning the wounds, she took out a set of bandages – those were just a set of boiled old clothing strips – and wrapped them around her hands.

It doesn’t hurt. Aloe looked at her bandaged hands, hints of blood visible through the cloth. And that worries me.

Aloe sighed in defeat and took out another waterskin. This one, she drank from. She didn’t trust herself to know if she was thirsty or not. Knowing her, she may not drink until it was too late because she was distracted.

The water graciously trickled down her throat, making her feel ever-so-lifeful.

“Here.” She offered the rest of the water to Fikali, who happily accepted it as she snapped wide open her jaws. Aloe dedicated to her another smile. “Gimme a few more minutes and we’ll continue forward.”

Noon was long gone; in a few hours, the sunset would show up around the corner.

And even in her misery, Aloe had enough presence of mind to not spend the night in the desert.

Rather than resting, even if her thighs and arms were numb from riding, she sat in a meditation position and began circling her vitality.

She may not feel the pain, but she feared reopening the wounds. That meant making her body tougher. I wish... her mind was a whisp of what it normally was, I wish I could not just make my body tough... but also my soul.