Garthan and Melsei Part 2

Garthan looked up from the pile of bodies that he had created and wiped his bloody sword on one of them. As expected, more people were here. They were still nothing special though, just criminals who didn’t even bother to train. He kicked a mangled head away in disgust and sheathed his sword and dagger.

Two other groups had come to this place as well. They had already gone further in while Mask’s group remained to inspect the area and join them later. Sword stabbed through a squirming body while Knife retrieved the keys from one of the dead criminals.

“We’re near finishing now,” Mask said. “The other groups will take care of the rest. Scout for those who are critically wounded among the slaves.”

The three spread out. Garthan looked through the cages. Most of the slaves looked malnourished but not wounded. He guessed they weren’t harmed until someone wanted to do some ‘art.’ He ventured deeper. Many of them were empty.

He heard a soft cry come from the corner of the cavern. Mask put his hand on his dagger and slowly approached the source of the sound. He passed some cages and finally saw the figure.

A woman was chained on a long, wooden platform. Her blonde hair had been dirtied with mud and grime, and her bare body was stretched out like a specimen. Her hands were chained to one side and her legs to the other. Her ribs stuck out visibly, as well as the bones on her legs and arms. Only her stomach was plump and round. Garthan immediately took off his robe and covered the woman’s body. He used a key to unchain her and let her weak body rest against the platform.

She looked young. Very young. She looked more like a girl than a woman. Her face was dirty and sunken, and her eyes were still closed. They looked very dry. She let out a small cry.

Without hesitation, Garthan retrieved an emergency scroll from his bag. He placed it over the woman’s body and poured his mana into it. Green light began to flow out from the magic circle, enveloping the girl. Slowly but surely, her bruises began to disperse, and her cuts began to close. But the swell on her stomach remained. He gently raised the barely-conscious girl in his arms and headed towards the exit. He knew a pregnant woman when he saw one. This one needed urgent care.

“Sword, take over the group,” Mask called out. “Report back to the Commander in my stead. I’m taking this girl to a healer.”

“Understood.”

Garthan swiftly ran out of the cave and out of the sewers with the girl in his arms. He ran across the night, across the shadows that the buildings cast under the moonlight. He ran across the closed shops and marketplaces. He ran across the intersections, the waterways, the dim lampposts. He didn’t stop running until he arrived at the Swordsmanship Training Academy of Danark.

He kicked open the large doors and dashed into the left hallway. He hurried up the numerous stairs until he reached the bedroom of the Headmistress. He banged on the door with his hand.

“Headmistress! Headmistress! I know you’re in there! It’s urgent! You can give me my award for the sword tournament now!” shouted Garthan.

Garthan sensed a large presence approaching from the other side of the door. He took some steps back. The door flung open slowly as an elderly woman in thick clothes appeared from the room.

“You better have a good reason for this, Garthan Limen,” croaked the lady, “or you will suffer the consequences. This time, you may not get a pass.”

Garthan swallowed his spit but remained still. He ignored the sweat that was pouring down on his back.

“I apologize, but this is very urgent,” said Garthan as he motioned for the Headmistress to see the girl he was holding. “I need you to heal her. That will be my reward.”

The old lady retrieved her glasses from somewhere and placed it over her eyes. She squinted at the weak girl who was in front of her.

“You were the only reliable healer I could think of,” pleaded Garthan. "The city is asleep, and all the shops are closed."

“Don’t you have scrolls, dimwit!” scolded the elderly woman. “Or potions?”

“We were on an extermination mission, not a rescue one,” said Garthan. “And as you can see…”

The lady frowned. She glanced at the girl in Garthan’s arms. She finally motioned to Garthan to come into her room. Garthan sighed and took the girl inside.

“Place her on the bed,” said the lady. “This will be your prize, am I correct?”

“Yes. Please. Help her.”

The elderly lady pushed her robe up her arms and stretched them out. “Take off the covering,” she told Garthan. Garthan retrieved his coat and left the room, closing the door behind him. He had somehow made it. The girl was in good hands now.

He placed his hand on his head and closed his eyes. He had acted impulsively again. His father always had scolded him for that. His emotions had taken control of him when he saw the pregnant girl, hurt and dying. He didn’t want to experience that kind of death again. He released a deep breath and relaxed his muscles.

His group must be waiting for him. He left the door behind him and descended the stairs.

〄 〄 〄

“Garthan, I realize that you are talented, but by no means does that allow you to abandon your post,” stated the Commander of the Goblin Squad.

Garthan looked down at his feet. He knew full well the responsibility of a group leader. A group leader had the duty to protect and command his group. One misstep in the field could end in everyone losing their lives.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” Garthan replied.

The Commander sighed sadly. Garthan was a fine young man. He had come into the Goblin Squad by the Academy Head’s personal recommendation and had climbed the ranks quickly. He had been the one to win the national swordsmanship tournament for Academy students. He could have taken a position of higher prestige for himself, but he had chosen the path of killing and extermination out of personal feelings.

And those feelings had gotten the better of him the day before.

“You are off for the next two months,” said the Commander. “Reflect on yourself. Maybe you are still too young to be in here, Garthan.”

He placed a stern hand on Garthan’s shoulder and left the room.

Garthan looked at his lap. He had done nothing wrong. But the Commander was right. His emotions had gone over his duty. For a soldier, that was a dire crime. He was lucky he got away with two months.

He picked up his sword and dagger from the side of the table and stood up. He’d relax his head a bit while he waited for the missions to pass. His footsteps headed towards the barracks where his squadron resided in. He would train himself for now.

But first, he’d go check the status of the girl he had rescued.

〄 〄 〄

Garthan treaded his feet through the long stone halls of the Academy. He had visited the Headmistress’s bedroom only to find it unoccupied. Having nothing else to do, he decided to walk around the Academy and dig up some nostalgic memories. The training he had undergone, the pain, the sweat, the cheers of the students when he returned with the prize—he still remembered them all clearly.

Garthan waved to a group of students that bowed their heads as they passed by him. He was well known, after all. Graduates of the school were almost always welcome to tour the halls and use the training areas.

He passed by a busy classroom where an instructor taught students about basic anatomy. The knowledge was required for simple healing and strengthening magic, after all. He smiled as he saw a student sleeping during class get whacked on the head with a stick. He understood their fatigue. Training was harsh here.

But there still weren’t any signs of the girl. He trusted the Headmistress. She was capable and true to her word. Even so, he couldn’t help but worry. He wandered through the halls while peeking at students study or swing their swords. Maybe he would train too.

He entered an open area of grass and grabbed a wooden sword from one of the stands nearby. The wood was special—it weighed as much as a metal sword, so it was perfect for training. He quickly swung the sword to the side a couple times with his right hand and repeated the warm-up with his left. After stretching his legs a little bit, he did some simple attacking patterns while swinging at the air. Strength was important, but control was crucial. He gracefully slid his blade through the air, making it whistle. After a couple of exercises, he was already sweating.

Then Garthan felt a familiar presence approach him. He turned around to see the Headmistress entering the area.

“You’ve made yourself clear, Sir Limen. Your mana is practically leaking everywhere.”

As expected. She had noticed. Well, he had wanted her to notice. He placed the sword back on the stand and walked up to the Headmistress.

“You weren’t at the bedroom.”

“Of course not. Only a fool would go there during the day.”

Garthan scratched his head.

“If you’re wondering about the girl, yes, she is here.”

The Headmistress turned towards the corner of the room. The girl with blonde hair was peeking through the side of the open area. She shyly eyed Garthan.

“Come out Melsei. He is the one you wanted to meet.”

Melsei nodded. She slowly emerged and approached Garthan while holding her round stomach.

“She is a strong girl,” said the Headmistress. “I’ve heard her story. She’s managed to survive all of that. More than what boys these days could manage.”

Melsei stood in front of Garthan. She gave a small bow in gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said.

Garthan stood there, not knowing what to say anything. This was the first time he had gotten thanks in his line of work.

“Don’t just stand there, fool!” chided the Headmistress. “I’m very busy, so I’ll leave her to you, Limen.”

She headed off without another word, leaving awkward Garthan and grateful Melsei alone together under the sunlight that came through the glass ceiling.

“Well…Melsei,” began Garthan slowly, “come walk with me.”

Melsei gave a weak smile and followed Garthan out of the room.

〄 〄 〄

Upon Garthan’s insistence, Melsei sat on a cart while Garthan led the horse through the city. Garthan’s mother had told Garthan to treat women in the best way possible before she passed away. He rarely had experience with women after that besides fighting against them with swords. His definition of ‘proper treatment’ of women was slightly more exaggerated than the average person’s.

The cart seemed appropriate for Garthan. They arrived at the marketplace where Garthan bought some fried potato slices with a white sauce along with a drink made out of assorted fruits. He held them in front of Melsei.

“You look malnourished. I mean bony. I mean—ah, whatever. Would you like these?”

Melsei reached out and accepted Garthan’s gift.

“Thank you,” she said. She took a bite and her eyes widened. “These are delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it,” said Garthan. Well. Now he had run out of things to talk about. “Tell me if you want anything else,” he added.

Melsei smiled through a mouthful of chips and nodded her head. She looked awfully unhealthy. Her cheekbones were still very visible on her face and her blonde hair gleamed dully. She’d at least need a few weeks before she would be in prime condition.

Garthan impulsively bought more food as they traveled through the city. He just thought that Melsei would need them. The food filled a section of the cart as they went around the roads. Melsei was just happy that she was receiving so many gifts from her savior. That was what Garthan was.

But she also knew the moment would not last. It never did.

She sadly looked at the man’s sturdy back as he led her through the streets. When all hope had been lost, he had appeared. But she was also afraid of him. The men that she had served under all had acted kind in the beginning. But their nature would reveal itself sooner or later. The bulge on her stomach proved that. This man was younger than the rest, but men were rarely any different.

Now she would have to live her life bearing the consequence of their madness. She gripped her hand tightly until the whites of her knuckles began to show. Garthan obliviously led her through the streets while thinking of a topic to talk about. He was having little success.

Finally, he opened his mouth.

“Where will you be staying?” he asked.

“The Madam has told me I could remain until I give birth,” she replied. “After that, I don’t know.”

“When is the expected date of birth?”

“The Madam has said in about two months.”

The two continued to move in silence. They finally arrived back at the Academy and Garthan helped Melsei get off the cart and assisted her back into the building. The Headmistress was at the desk, and she motioned to her assistants to help Melsei to her room. Garthan kept his eyes fixed on the fading figure of the frail girl.

“She is nineteen.”

“Nineteen?! That’s one year younger than me!”

“And if you haven’t noticed, she is a victim of rape and violence. You must have seen the wounds.”

Garthan turned towards the Headmistress.

“Will she recover?”

“In time, yes. But her emotional scars run too deep. Even I am astounded by the mental strength she holds. I will help her recover as your reward.”

Garthan nodded. That was what he wanted. He had rescued her, so she was his responsibility for now.

“Will you abandon her once she gives birth?” asked Garthan.

“That depends on her. If she wishes to stay, she and her child will have to serve in the Academy or enroll as students. The prior is much more likely.”

“If not?”

“Then where she goes is not of my concern. I’m doing this for your reward, not hers.”

Garthan stood there in thought. She was just a stranger, after all. He didn’t have to give her anything. But his mother had told him to do his best in treating women. That was essentially her legacy. He shook his head a few times to clear his thoughts. No. He would do this because it was the right thing to do.

“I’ll visit every day,” he said. “I have nothing to do. Mind if I work here?”

The Headmistress waved at Garthan dismissively and returned to her papers.

“Do what you wish—the Academy will not turn away a skilled graduate.”

Garthan smiled. “Thank you, Headmistress.”

The Headmistress watched Garthan as he went out the door. The boy was too kind and too soft. He wasn’t suited for a work of killing. He had insisted on it, so she had written him a recommendation, but he hadn’t changed since the last day he ate in these halls. He was still a child.

She adjusted her glasses and continued to write.