"Give it up, it's over." He said, standing over my limp body. I was barely conscious. Reality was fading in and out. I blinked away the red hue that had slowly crept over my vision. I felt my arms move on their own, pushing me up. I coughed as my knees bent and I rose. My balance was unsteady as I felt the wind against me, threatening to push me over. I put my feet under me and lifted myself off the ground.
"It's not over until I'm dead. Don't you understand that? You have to put me in the ground, and then it'll finally be over." I spat out the blood that had been gathering in my mouth. The sanguine liquid tasted sickly sweet with a hint of iron. "This world is already mine, you just haven't realized it yet."
"I've stopped you at every turn in your quest, Koga. So let's stop this nonsense." He said as he raised my sword above my head. I couldn't quite remember how he had gotten it, but it was certainly mine, however. I looked my nemesis in the eye and saw the exhaustion in his face. I just needed a few more moments to catch my breath.
"You don't have it in you to kill me. I know you don't. Killing me would mean giving up on everything you believe in," I smiled at Mathios. He raised my sword higher and started to swing. Every muscle in my body was screaming at me to move, to do something. I couldn't let myself die. This encounter wasn't the end of my story. I felt my hands moving towards him and grabbed the metal. The sharp edge dug into my flesh and caused another cut on my palm. I grunted in pain and winced. I used the last bit of my energy to rip the sword out of his hands. The metal clanged on the stone floor a few feet away.
"Why are you still fighting? This battle was already decided when I walked into the room." He said, grabbing my cloak. His fist connected with my face for the umpteenth time today. I stumbled back; I had to keep standing. It was almost over. My victory was almost at hand. He rushed over to me again and punched me in the gut this time. I groaned and took another step back. I felt the stone window on my lower back.
"You don't have the guts to finish me off; I'm right here," I said, leaning against the window. My breathing was heavy, and all I could feel was my entire body throbbing from the pain. So close; one last push and it'll be done.
"I'm over this; I, the great Mathios, will kill you once and for all, you, menace to the good folk of this land." He grabbed me, lifted me, and held me over the open window. I smiled; my plan had worked. This was my moment.
"Do it then, insolent whelp." I sneered at him, trying to contain my excitement. I felt myself slip from his grasp and began to fall into the depths of my castle. The wind rushed past me as my plan came to fruition. I hit the water of my moat with a loud splash, but that was of no matter. The imbecile would believe I drowned in the river. I summoned the last bit of energy I had and cast a very minor healing spell so I wouldn't succumb to my wounds. I let the water carry me as my vision slowly faded out.
I don't know how long I was in the river, but I was aware when I was caught in a fishing net. I grumbled to myself about the stupid peasants. I heard children yell from beyond the river's edge. Then the voices got louder. I couldn't turn to see the source of the voices.
"Theo, what's that in the river?" One of the voices said.
"I don't know, let's take a closer look." I could only assume it was Theo who was speaking.
The voices stopped for a second, and then a high-pitched scream filled the air. "It's a dead body. What should we do?" A girl's voice said from one side of the net.
The boys said in unison, "Let's poke it." They all laughed. That's right, laugh, peasants. Laugh at my broken form; I'll have your heads for such a transgression. I felt myself drawn to the river's edge. Then my body was being prodded by a long stick. Then it was joined by another, and a third.
"St-Stop that," I groaned. My body hurt, and my throat was coated in dried blood. The children screamed and dropped their sticks.
"He's a zombie," The girl yelled.
"Zombies don't talk, Marssa," The boy who wasn't Theo said.
"Well, what should we do about him?" Marssa asked, her voice was now lower.
"We should tell Gord about this. He'll be able to figure something out." Theo said. I felt the children's footsteps get softer. I sighed, and soon I drifted back into the void. The next thing I knew, I felt myself being picked up and put on a makeshift stretcher. I made a noise as they put me down.
"Wow, friend. You're lucky they found you when they did. Don't move now. We'll get you patched up and on your way in no time. Our medicine woman is known far and wide." A man's voice said as I was lifted in the air. He was holding the stretcher's front.
"Yeah, she doesn't even charge for her services. She wants to help people," The man behind me said. My stomach turned, human selflessness. So disgusting, and often untrue. Everybody in this world wants something from somebody. "Rest now; we'll be in the village shortly."
I tried to protest, but I could patch myself up just fine; I just needed to rest more. I felt my magic at the edges of my fingertips. It was close. In another day or so, I can fix most of my physical problems. I stirred and felt my strength give out. The men chuckled at my plight. I swore when I got back to my full power, I was gonna start my vengeance with these two. I blacked out as the stretcher was being rocked back and forth.
I awoke when I felt my body hit the ground roughly. I groaned in pain. Every inch of my body was screaming at the sudden stop.
"Gregory, what are you doing?" The other man scolded him.
"Sorry, he just slipped from my hands. It wasn't that bad." Gregory sheepishly said.
"It's fine, just put him on the bed and go fetch Analise. She should be at the village elders' house," The man said, leaning down, grabbing my feet. I felt a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders, and then I was lifted onto the bed, if it could be called that. The mattress was made out of hay wrapped in wool, but a few of the pieces had poked through and were stabbing the exposed parts of my body.
'How embarrassing, having to rely on these imbeciles to get me to full health.' I thought to myself. The man named Gregory left the room, and I was left alone with the other.
"Can you speak?" The man said, pulling up a chair next to the bed. I groaned out a grunt and looked at him. He was very plain-looking, probably a farm hand if I had to guess.
"I figured as much. You're in a bad way, friend. Your body is covered in cuts and bruises. I wouldn't be surprised if you have a few broken bones, especially your ribs. My name is Breanan; the fool that dropped you is called Gregory." He said, pulling out a pouch and a pipe. He filled the pipe with what I assumed was tobacco and lit it. The smell of the leaf filled the small room. "Do you know where you are?" He asked me as he exhaled the smoke. My head moved slightly from side to side, and he sighed.
"Well, you're in the humble little village of Thyme's Refuge." He explained. I've heard of this town before. Though not for a famed healer, however. I nodded my head and closed my eyes.
"You've heard of us? I'm not surprised; not many are ignorant of our existence." He said before taking another puff of his pipe. "Where the hell is Gregory? The Elder's house isn't that far away." He sighed, knocked the ashes from his pipe into his hand, and threw them into the fireplace. As he started filling his pipe again, Gregory burst in with a woman in tow.
"There he is, I told you I wasn't exaggerating when I said he's on death's doorstep," Gregory said as the woman pushed past him. I couldn't make out what she looked like from the dark room, only being lit by the fireplace and a small candle on a table behind Breanan.
"What do you think you're doing, Breanan?" She scolded him. I couldn't see her face, but from her tone, she was definitely scowling at him. "How many times do I need to tell you that smoking in a patient's room is not allowed?"
Breanan put the pipe in his pocket and said, "Sorry, Lise, it's just that-"
"Save it for someone who actually cares. Now get out. If I need your help for something, I'll call you." She said, kicking the chair out from underneath him. I managed a small chuckle that filled my torso with sharp pain, as the scene unfolded before me. This woman had some life to her. She looked at me, and I could feel a smile coming from her, "Good, you can laugh; that's a start at least." Though I soon felt her smile vanish, she scowled at the pair as they started towards the door. "You didn't take off his soaking wet clothes? Are you serious? He could have caught death just from a cold right now. Give me your knife, Breanan; we have to cut these wet rags off of him."
Breanan handed her the object, and soon she was standing over me, cutting off my clothes. I was annoyed that my clothes couldn't be saved. Every piece was hand-tailored by the world-renowned Pierre. It was pure silk with silk threads. I winced every time I felt the blade slice away at my wardrobe.
"What in Thyme happened to you?" She muttered as she saw my body. I hadn't seen what I looked like right now, but I felt it, though. She rubbed my torso, tracing the many scars, my new wounds, and bruises. "This is gonna take a while for you to feel completely better. It looks like you broke some ribs, and some of these cuts are really deep. I'm actually surprised you haven't died yet."
She started on my trousers, now cutting them away. She wasn't as intense on my legs. They were sore, but I had assumed it was from all the running I'd done during the fight with Mathios. I could see her face a bit better now; her hair was bright red and was tied back in a braid. Her eyes were still in the shadows, and I could tell they were looking at me with kindness.
She finished her examination and sighed, "To be honest with you. Your injuries are the worst case I've ever seen. I've seen wolf attacks, lumber accidents, and several illnesses, but you? It looks like you've been through several wars back to back with no time to rest. I'm not even sure about internal bleeding. I'm guessing not, because if you had any, you would be dead by now." I groaned in exasperation. She didn't know any healing magic, it would seem. If that were the case, I would be better in no time flat with my clothes intact. How can somebody be called the world's best healer and not know any healing magic? She walked over to a cupboard above a dry sink in the corner and opened it. She pulled out several herbs, a mushroom, and a mortar and pestle. She turned to the men in the corner and frowned, "What are you two still doing here? Fetch me a bucket of water from the well, Louis. I need his help. Oh, also grab me a bottle of Alphonse's strongest liquor as well."
Gregory and Breanan nodded their heads and walked out the door. She sighed as the door shut. "They mean well, but they're a little on the slow side when it comes to this type of thing." She grabbed a pot from under the sink and set it beside the fireplace. Then she began adding the various herbs and mushrooms to the bowl. She started humming a tune as she crushed the ingredients. I noticed that she was working in time with the song. I began to drift off as the song lulled me. I awoke when Gregory walked back in with a bucket and a green bottle.
"Thank you, Gregory. You can go now." She said, taking the bucket and placing the bottle on the table next to the mortar. Analise grabbed a cup from the table, filled it from the bucket, and brought it over to me. "Here, you have to be thirsty." She lifted my head and brought the cup to my cracked lips. The liquid filled my mouth, and it made its way down my throat. I could feel the blood being washed away from my throat. She lifted the cup away and smiled at me.
"Th-thank you." The words hurt me more than Mathios ever could. Me thanking a peasant. What was wrong with me? I couldn't believe this. I had to get out of this town immediately.
"You do speak. That's good to know. Just lie back and relax. I'll need to apply this salve and wrap your torso with a bandage." She said, walking back to the table, and poured the rest of the water into the bucket. She poured the remaining water from the bucket into the pot and placed it over the fire. She took the bottle and poured some into the mortar. She then took a sip of the bottle and wiped her mouth. "Oh, that's good."
I chuckled out of impulse and immediately regretted it. My sides exploded in pain, I groaned out loud, and Analise turned towards me with a frown. "Laughter is the best medicine, but in your case, I don't recommend it for you, at least for a couple of weeks." She said, walking over with the bottle in her hand, "Here, this'll help with the pain." She brought the bottle to my lips, and I greedily swallowed a few sips. The liquor burned my throat, and I could feel the liquid warm my stomach as it settled.
I haven't drunk alcohol in years; my family has a history of becoming alcoholics, and I wasn't interested in following that path. In this case, though, I welcomed the whiskey. "Thank you again, Analise." I could feel my voice starting to come back. I've thanked her twice in the same hour. This was unacceptable. I wanted to succumb to my wounds.
"You're welcome again. Don't call me Analise, though. My mother calls me that, and I hate it. Ana or Lise is what I prefer." She said, walking back to the table. She started to finish the salad. She started humming again, and I was being lulled into that sweet black abyss.