Ryckel woke to the smell of damp earth and the golden light of a Wistnan morning. The red mist had cleared, leaving the world looking deceptively peaceful.
The fact that he was still alive meant no Zhenren had smelled the carnage or heard the noise.
Ryckel removed his gas mask, breathing in the crisp air. He looked at the corpses of the Stained Brothers still in the dirt.
Serves them right!
Though he felt an uncomfortable nudge in his gut.
Now that Ryckel was free… what was next?
Simple. Get back to his family.
How was he going to do that…
Ryckel didn't know for now. He needed to eat and rest for a while before anything. He headed out into the woods, foraging for berries and eating them, when he got thirsty…
Since there was no river around, he looked right at the satchels that the Stained Brothers carried. Robbing the corpses, looking for their leather pouches.
He felt that they had water in them, or at least some liquid. He checked first for any openings or leaks. Anything that would allow the mists from the Bleeding Hour to contaminate it.
After checking, he opened the pouches and saw that it was indeed water that inside. Ryckel drank from them ate his berries without a care in the world.
Now… how do I actually get back?
Ryckel needed to travel back that's for sure, he needed resources for that. That's when one of the Hortes close by made a small noise.
He looked in their direction.
He looked at the Hortes, five sturdy, giant bird like beasts standing near the edge of the camp.
Maybe I can just ride them.
"Hey, easy," he murmured, stepping toward one.
The Hortes hissed, rearing back and baring its flat, grinding teeth. They were rejecting him. They knew their masters were dead, and they didn't recognize the smell of the boy.
"Fine. Have it your way."
He managed to snag a satchel from one of the saddles before the beast kicked at him. Inside, he found what was important: a map.
That's when nature called and he was forced to walk off into the bushes to handle his business, cleaning himself with soft, non-irritating leaves before returning to the map.
Lilliebore. That was the closest town to where they were that Brandy had mentioned. He located it on the map and found his own position. The Brothers had been heading out of Wistnan. He was far from home, but the road to Lilliebore was clear.
From there, he could find a caravan or a transport back to his town.
He tried one last time to mount the Hortes, but they lashed out violently. Ryckel reinforced his body with energy just in time to take a shoulder-hit that would have broken his ribs.
"Suit yourselves," he grumbled.
He turned to the corpses. It was time to scavenge some more. He found some iron chains and, more importantly, small coins with notched ridges tied to the men's waists.
Shards. The smallest unit of Barcas. He gathered ten of them, barely enough to buy a handful of nails, but together they made one full Barca.
At least their ridges are notched.
He hit each one against a stone. Each one making a pinging sound. The high-pitched ring confirmed they were legitimate metal, not lead fakes.
"At least you weren't cheap," he muttered to Hood's body.
He packed the berries and water into the satchel. He looked at the Hortes one last time, wishing he could sell them, but they were useless to him if he couldn't control them.
With a sigh, he cut their lead-ropes.
"Go on. Get."
The beasts didn't need to be told twice. They bolted into the woods, disappearing into the pale trees.
Ryckel walked over to Hood's corpse. He reached down, pulled Vega's dagger from the skull, and wiped the gore off on Hood's tunic. He tucked the blade into his satchel.
With the map's directions burned into his mind, Ryckel turned his back on the bloodstains and the ruins.
He began the long walk toward Lilliebore, his silhouette small against the vast, unforgiving landscape of Wistnan.
He was going home. And the Great Light help anyone who stood in his way.
---The End of Chapter 18---