Two weeks passed after the festival, and the streets gradually became cleaner. The thrash was cleared, the stage dismantled and everywhere, normal life returned to the streets. The weather gradually began to worsen, as the late-summer days gave way to autumn chill and rain. The festival almost appearing like a trigger to summon forth clouds of rain and wind. News from the siege around Adriested carried hopes of victory, but not without its chilling news: Several assaults upon the citadel of the city had failed. The wounded captives were mutilated and hung, still alive, from the battlements to meet their end. Few civilians remained, most having been killed or turned into mindless drones that launched themselves forth from the main gate in a murderous, but ultimately futile frenzy. The women, the elderly and even children were wasted by the besieged enemy in suicidal sallies. In between all the gloom, the news and town criers spoke highly of a strange soldier whom had distinguished himself in battle, and devised cunning plans to capture and secure any whom survived the brutal charge.

Every morning, before leaving to meet Charne for her practice, Mariel had made a habit of visiting Siravin in the cellar. Still placed under heavy nullifying wards and sustained by Casindire’s unwavering nursing, he still appeared as he did when he was still moving and talking. She shared with him the details and experiences, despite her feeling that he didn’t hear any of it. For training, Charne had stepped up his game, and put her through increasingly rigorous training exercises. Often she was left bruised and beaten, but her body had withstood it all, and she found her soft curves having somewhat straightened lately to her quiet appreciation.

Having left the temple, Mariel was soon back among the many streets of the city. The citizens went about their daily business, but a loud shout silenced them all, and almost all movement seized.

“Hear me, hear me! Later this evening, the first batch of refugees from the Free Town of Visantil will arrive! As you may have been told, the town suffered a siege, and was laid waste. The enemy was defeated, but reconstruction will take many years. During this time, the citizens will be divided equally among the nearby states and kingdoms! Our share is roughly six thousand eight hundred heads! Provisional lodgings have been prepared, but the duke’s advisors ask for your support in providing food, care and shelter! Any who take upon them such a responsibility will be compensated. In these trying times, we stick together!”

The crowd hummed with muffled conversation. Shock and disbelief mixed with anger and worry. The town crier stilled them to silence.

“I am also obliged to remind you that Visantil has a large count of humans, beastkin and elves in its populace! As such, remain vigilant and report any disturbances to the guards! However, any unprovoked aggression towards the refugees, and especially the humans, seeing how recent attacks were confirmed to be perpetrated by their kind… Will be punished!”

The crowd began to disperse. Some appeared to return to their routine, but a good number of people began forming into a line near the small podium, where a registrar was collecting signatures and handing out certificates.

Mariel wondered about signing up, but decided to confer the decision until later.

Standing on the bridge leading into the citadel, Mariel found Charne lazily watching for fish. She approached and greeted him.

“Hi Mariel… Training is suspended for today… I don’t know if you’ve heard, but a whole lot of refugees will arrive here in the city today. I… Was volunteered to offer medical assistance…”

“And? Don’t you want to help?”

“Sure I do, but I think it’s a little unfair you have no say in the matter, and I was sort of signed up without me knowing.” He sighed, before straightening his posture. “But hey, what sort of scum back out from pledge to help others?”

“I think you’re doing the right thing by going through with it.”

“Yeah, I also have a whole bunch of friends in the city that was attacked, so it’s also personal.” He rested his hand on the pommel of his sword.

“So instead of swords, I’ll give you a lesson in treating battlefield casualties… If you don’t mind infested wounds, mangled limbs and a whole river worth of blood? You are of course free to decline.”

“No. I want to go with you! Didn’t you tell me the other day that a soldier is more than just a fancy weapon?”

“That’s true, but I am warning you… It will be awful.”

The first refugees to arrive had been the first to be wounded in the initial attack and evacuated. With an encirclement looming, a full day had passed before a corridor had been pried open, allowing more civilians and wounded soldiers to sneak out. The first few hundred refugees were in bad shape, and the first carts more than filled the expansive accommodations prepared for the wounded.

Mariel adjusted her white apron, while trying to keep breathing with her mouth. The stench inside the tents reeked of festering, rotting wounds, and fresh blood. A continuous groan resounded from the dozens of badly wounded humans, demons and elves. She picked up the nearest bucket and emptied it into a nearby street drain. With a wet splash, she heard her breakfast land in the water.

“Here, drink some water…” Charne handed her a small waterskin. She drank from it, but still could not shake the feeling of her throat rotting from the inside.

“Well, it looks worse than I had expected… Just be ready, we’ll be called in soon eno…”

“Hey! You two! Stop talking and come help me here!” A doctor had lifted the flap of a nearby tent and was shouting at them. They hurriedly joined up with him. He led them inside.

“We’ll be doing amputations… I need you to secure the patients. Just hold them still while I remove the infected extremities.” He instructed them, while deftly manoeuvring between occupied slabs. On every slab was a patient being held down by assistants, while a doctor sawed or straight forward hacked off body parts. A wet thud was followed by a deafening shriek. Mariel felt a cold spike run the length of her spine. Her belly had long since grown bored of acrobatics, but continued to toss and turn just to add one extra layer of awful. The continuous shriek suddenly died down, and a body they just passed by went completely limp. The assistants began to wrap in a bloodied stump that had once been the lower part of the leg of the human patient, now unconscious upon the slab.

They arrived at their designated slab. Upon it laid a petrified, young human woman with a hand that appeared to have a life of its own.

“Gods…” Mariel wanted to look away, but could not find it in her to do so.

“Get used to it kid… Okay, now give my other assistants a hand with her.”

“What are you going to do!?” The woman asked with a voice overflowing with panic.

“Hush. We’re here to help you… And we need you to trust us. Your hand is very badly infected, and leaving it on might kill you.”

“B-but! Don’t you have any salves? Can’t you fetch a Brandt wielder to heal me? I don’t want to lose my hand!”

“Sorry… We have only three professional menders… One of which are already tending to your little girl… Her name is Lirasi I believe?” One of the other volunteers, a female about the doctor’s age interrupted.

“Y-yes! Please! Save my little girl!”

“I’m afraid the mender treating your daughter cannot leave her for long enough to heal you… You must make a choice… Your hand, or your daughter.” The answer came immediately, and without any hint of hesitation in its conviction.

“My hand! Just… Make it quick!”

“I will try.” The doctor reappeared, carrying a small saw in one hand, and a small bottle in his other.

“You… You’re going to… Saw?” The woman turned white as a sheet.

“Yes… Drink this… It’ll ease the pain.” The doctor handed his patient the small bottle, which she immediately drank, licking even the small drops.

“Okay, now hold her arm still, the rest of you, keep her body in place.”

“Here we go…” Charne mumbled, as he and Mariel began putting hold on the woman’s arm.

The afternoon bells tolled, which announced the end of their shift. At the end of the shift, Mariel found herself completely cold and indifferent. The first few hands, gushes of blood, disturbing shrieks and the occasional corpse being brought out of the tent had disturbed her deeply. But finally, the suffering had somehow overpowered her mind, and cause some strange shell to form over her heart.

“Well done… You took that mess on a lot better than I had anticipated.” Charne appeared from beyond the flap of the tent. He came over and hung his bloodied apron on the nearby metal fence.

“I’m going to have nightmares…”

“That’s alright, you did your bit well… So, I understand you’ve seen combat before?”

“I have… It was equally awful, but this didn’t have that feeling of brutal, unmitigated savagery to it… And helping others gave me some form of comfort.”

Charne bore a look of distance as he watched the steady stream of carts and refugees still trickle through the open gate below. “A word can be more powerful than a shower of arrows, and a voice of comfort stronger than any anaesthetising salve. These are tools you have to use and train with, to defeat your opponents.”

“That’s unusually deep… Who told you that one?”

“What? Are you saying I’m not clever enough to come up with such a thing?” Charne shot her a hurt look.

“No! Not at all, it just seemed a little, outside your usual.”

Charne threw on another layer of insult, before finally laughing. “You’re right… Maybe all this suffering is making me poetic.”

One of the menders, distinguished by a metal pin on his coat came rushing by with a small troop of volunteers. Some were carrying small boxes of medicines and supplies, while others brought toys.

“Hey, are you two free?” The mender stopped before them. He had an imposing presence, wearing a big white coat with leather belts sewn into the fabric and used to hold a variety of surgery tools. Of his more notable features was the pipe in his mouth, and bigger, sharp-flared ears, one of the elves.

“Yes, can we assist you?” Charne jumped to the chance.

“I need some help. A whole bunch of children… To me anyway, were brought to Vysanneh’s temple… You look young, and I could certainly need some more hands that were of relatable age to these youngsters, please follow me.” They both joined into the group, and in quick step they headed for the temple.

Vysanneh’s temple usually had a very soothing atmosphere of peace and calm. All of it had been thrown out in favour of a tumultuous hive of activity. The whole room dedicated to prayers had been cleared out, and replaced with provisional beds, squared-up playgrounds and a small serving station. The noise inside the temple were a mix of stressed voices, loud crying and shouting.

“Here we are! Now spread out! The children who need medical attention are on the left, in the back. Ulina, take six and see to them! Next is the kitchen! Agisto, go help them out, take your friends with you!” The elf shook his head and patted his pipe several times, creating large puffs of smoke.

“The rest of you, go play some games or see if any of them need some comforting!” He then headed straight for the area dedicated to injuries.

Mariel and Charne exchanged glances and dove into the crowd, looking for anyone who appeared to be lonely. On their way, they bumped into Saya, who was carrying a big stack of pillows.

“Oh… Hi Mariel! Sorry, I can’t talk, I’m busy!”

“Saya? Are you sure you should be here?”

“No…” She paused while adjusting the stack of pillows. “But these children depend on us.”

“Strange, she didn’t even react to me this time.” Charne noted while watching Saya hand out pillows and nearly drowning in a torrent of grateful and needy children.

“What do you mean?” Mariel asked, while offering a hug to a young girl standing next to her brother, being gently pushed forward.

“Ah, last time she saw me, during the festival, she drew a knife she kept in her dress… Not sure if you noticed.”

“I knew she had one. She’s a little wary of strangers, but she loves children though.”

“That’s true.” He nodded.

“I’m sorry lady… But have you seen our fathers?” The young boy asked, while receiving grateful, if shy knocks on his back.

“Sorry, I haven’t, but what do they look like?”

“Their names are Salen and Frel. They are big and strong. They fought those evil attackers off while we were brought to safety. We haven’t seen them since the attack.”

“Mm… We haven’t. But we’ll keep an eye out.”

“See Vili? They are good people… They’ll help us look.” He tried once more to sidestep to reveal his little sister, but she firmly kept pace with his movement. Scowling at Mariel from behind her brother’s back. The young girl appeared to spot a free toy and began to drag her brother away.

“Thanks for the help… But I know they are dead. Don’t bother looking.” The young boy whispered before being hauled off.

The pang hit Mariel deeply, and she felt a need to cry. She swallowed hard to keep her emotions in check. The pain spread deeply into her chest.

“Hey Mariel?” Charne patted her on the back. “I know that look. He knew their fate, didn’t he?”

“Yes…” She whispered meekly.

“Do you need a moment’s pause?”

“No. I’m fine, let’s go check on… That gathering over there!”

She stood up, wiped her eyes and began heading towards a small group of children sitting together in a circle, playing with a small green ball.

The time flew by as Mariel went around playing games, consoling children deprived of a parent’s loving embrace, and handing out food. At one point, she had visited the kitchen to find Casindire busy with smelling pots of stew and washing vegetables. They exchanged a few words, and soon the large pots were brought out to the small serving station. Immediately, every child dropped their toys or activities and came storming for them to get food. With some clever manoeuvring and commands from Charne, the other volunteers stopped the charge and managed with effort to get them to form up in neat rows. By the end of the day, Mariel was left with a small box of mementos she had been given by the many children she had played games with.

Before leaving she got to witness the first few parents arrive and collect their children. Some wept quietly together, relieved that their ordeal had ended. Others only stared blank-eyed, taking the full blow of the insufferable pain of seeing someone else reunited with their loved ones. A fair few parents called out their children’s names, only to be met by the wrong voice, or not a single reply. Despondent, they left soon after.

Charne had suddenly been recalled for reasons he did not want to share, and so Mariel was left alone. She decided to join up with Saya and Casindire in the kitchen, but by the time she had got around to it, serving was over and even the task of washing was largely finished.

A refugee curfew began to be enforced, and the doors were closed. Soon, after the strain of a long day, and the first sense of true safety finally sinking in, the children began to fall asleep.

“Well done today.” Casindire whispered while tucking in one of the youngest children. As soon as she finished, she led the other two out through a side door.

“I’m exhausted…” Saya mumbled, swaying gently from side to side. “I don’t think I’ve spent that long smiling and talking to other people before...”

“You were incredible Saya! You worked like a whirlwind and everyone could depend on you!” Casindire supported her friend and flashed a bright smile.

“Says the one who held together a kitchen, tested all the food, directed all the staff and, managed to feed like four hundred children in one short shift.” Her summary drew a beet-red glow from Casindire’s cheeks, and she quickly tried to hide her embarrassment.

“Really.” Saya grabbed Mariel’s hand. “You missed the moment when they realized she’s blind… The whole staff was aghast.”

“A lot of things might be impossible for me… But I know I can handle a kitchen…”

“Hey… What’s in the box Mariel?” Saya eyed the small painted wooden case with interest.

“Just, trinkets and small toys I got from the children… There are marbles, wood flutes, some small carved animals, one leather play ball, and some lures and whistles… I was thinking of finding a way to incorporate them into my equipment…”

“I can help you with that… Just let me know when you want to do it… But not now, I really want to go sleep.”

“That’s fine Saya, goodnight.” They both waved her off. With daylight fading fast, they decided to call it a night and headed for their respective rooms.