Chapter 3

  The Village

  Sitting next to Ellyn, Marco let out a sigh of frustration as he removed the bandages from the girl’s arm and got a good look at the injured area. The wound was closed with suture and covered with a bandage to prevent infection; however, it held only minimal difference from when he treated it two months ago. He had a mild suspicion of the reason when he first saw Ellyn, but as it left no visible trace behind, there was little then he could do except hope it wasn’t the case.

  His eyes wandered off for a moment, ending up on the girl’s face as she plainly stared at the window. It made him a feel bad that she had to endure a slow recovery. The bandits that had made these lands their own weren’t strangers to have an exchange or two with any unfortunate villagers that tried to make it to the nearest city to sell off goods. However, when it came to the Wood Fang, it was almost expected to be left in the same state as her or worse if you angered them enough.

  “Hold still, I’ll get a new one.” He quietly said.

  The girl nodded in response.

  She replied wordlessly, her eyes focused on the window, not daring to even give the chance to look at her own arm bare—Something the man did not notice. Marco quickly fetched a new, clean, and moistened bandage. Then he gently applied it with practiced movements cultivated by years of experience, just as naturally as he breathed. As he was the only trained doctor in The Village, and with the bandits so close by, it had become second nature.

  She gritted her teeth, “Nm...!”

  “Did I move too rough?”

  “It’s just burning a little, don’t worry.”

  Indeed, he was used to dealing with conditions like this, which made it all the more frustrating to attempt treat any victim of those men, as they consistently made use of magic to inflict as much damage as possible. The employment of magic was based on knowledge left behind by The Four Cardinal Lords and The Great Star God. Despite the extensive history and research and usage that disciplines like star magic had... it wasn’t the most commonly used magic; the others ones were.

  That achievement of most used belonged to the Cardinal Lord of The North, The War God’s magic, left behind for the world of men to use as they saw fit.

  Ellyn’s eyes darted around, “How long until...?”

  “It heals? About three more months, I’m afraid. Not only you were wounded by weapons employing the First Teaching, but you also got hit everywhere by it.”

  “Three more months...” She said with a gloomy sigh.

  The War God’s magic was more commonly used due to a single spell: ‘First Teaching: Allesk?rende’, the basic level. While it still needed a good amount of time studying to perform it; it was considerably easier than any other type of magic in the world. The effect of the spell was simple as well: It reinforced and enhanced a weapon’s power with the smallest trace of the god’s essence.

  The result was the object’s piercing, slashing, and crushing capabilities improved for a short amount of time. Everything it touched became twice as deadly thanks to it.

  However, what truly cemented its popularity was the damage it dealt. The wounds caused by enchanted weapons and arrows would heal considerably slower. While not unhealable: the greater the proficiency, the slower those wounds would heal.

  It was simple, really. Just a spell that made your sword cut better, for an arrow to pierce deeper. A simple enhancement made with the idea that even a random scoundrel out there that really wanted to hurt his fellow man could perform without too much difficulty.

  No wonder it was the most used.

  “Yeah, maybe if we are lucky, you’ll be freed from the bandages and sutures in less time, but be prepared nonetheless. We are just halfway through.”

  “Hopefully it won’t last that long…”

  “That’s good. An optimistic attitude helps the healing process too.”

  She awkwardly smiled, “Mn.”

  With a dry nod, Ellyn replied, not once she turned around her gaze towards him. Likewise, Marco did not lift his gaze from the bandages he was handling. The idea of being confined for even longer than she anticipated made her grimace. Though it was not completely unexpected, Ellyn had seen before the applications of the War God’s magic, alongside with her uncle during the time they spent together, so she knew the damage that school of magic could cause... That being said, being at the receiving end of the blade was a completely different experience.

  Two months had passed, and her wounds were still fresh, needing the sutures to keep them closed, for the bandages to soak and prevent infections, and for Marco to keep all sorts of treatment.

  Her wounds were aching as if they were cut open again. These past two months... She still feels like the first day she woke up here.

  Marco once again saw the girl’s face darken. Unrest is written all over it. Her eyes had an unmistakable, saddened look to them.

  But he only watched. Unsure of what he should say to her; what he should do for her.

  He only wondered, “What would you do in my stead, Teacher?”

  After having her bandages changed, she quietly returned to her room. A brief exchange about feeling unwell was all it was needed for Marco to guide her back to her bed.

  Marco adjusted his clothes, “I’ll be buying some groceries for today; I left some books on that table next to you. I’m gonna send Rigel to watch over you since I might take a while.”

  Ellyn looked at him with clear annoyance; He paid it no mind and simply smiled at her.

  “You don’t have to send him,” She begged, “I won’t be doing anything.”

  “It’s my insurance.”

  With nothing more said, the man left Ellyn in her room.

  Ellyn leaned against the pillow in resignation, at the very least; he could have left her alone to sleep through the entire day, instead of bringing Rigel to watch over. She understood why he made the decision, her condition was only slightly better than what it was two months ago, if anything were to happen, she would need someone of assistance on the spot.

  However, she hated the lectures he gave her about not doing anything reckless.

  Her eyes wandered across the new room in front of her. She had been moved out of the large-sized room meant to hold patients to a bedroom just for her. Considerably smaller than before, but it did not feel oppressively expansive as the other room. Now, the girl found herself in a proper guest room that Marco and Rigel’s mother prepared during the first month. It was a simple place, only having the minimum to make it livable and welcoming enough: A one-person bed, next to it a night table with books on top of it, empty wall shelves. Two sconces with fresh new candles were spread across the walls and a small closet that contained no clothes inside.

  It was... simple. It lacked anything in particular that made it feel like it was someone’s room.

  The furniture was of its standard brown-wood color, there were no rugs or colored sheets that would be of someone’s personal choosing, nor decorations that spoke about the taste of whoever might have lived here. It was a guest room, meant only to temporarily accommodate those who needed it.

  She was okay with it. That was exactly what she was.

  Letting out a sigh, the girl takes a look at the books next to her and peers into their covers. Most of them were about various medical-oriented topics like poisonous plants and how to use them, fictional war stories... As well as a romantic novel about the forbidden love between a maid and her master.

  “What the...”

  They were probably good works on their own, but reading the titles was enough for her to lose interest. She instead chose to lay down staring at the ceiling, hoping that at least boredom would take her to sleep.

  It was early in the morning, and the streets were buzzing with activity. The Village, as it they commonly called it, had quite the large population for how separated from the rest of the Kingdom of Vigram it was. Marco recalled well the last census the local government did: Almost one thousand people lived here, most of them in their thirties, he included.

  While The Village had a considerable distance from any other town both in and outside Vigram, people still made the journey to sell their goods to said towns and villages due to it being deep within the Bandit Lands. The majority came from the local fishermen, however, blacksmiths, shoemakers, rope makers, tanners, potters, and more also were contributors to the local economy. As such, The Village mostly consisted of fishermen and artisans in their mid-thirties. They did what they could to keep their families afloat, passed their skills to their children, and continued on.

  Marco walked through the street and wherever he looked, he could see his neighbors carrying out their usual business, offering their products and services, and for the most part educating their children about the family trade. Some had a small wagon being loaded with goods, with a tired old mule at their side ready to pull.

  “Yo Marco, good morning,” The shopkeeper beckoned, “how you doing?”

  He stopped at a vegetable stall, there wasn’t a particularly large variety to choose from, but what was there was at least fresh. On the other side of the table, there was a man slightly older than him sitting on a tall stool. Upon seeing Marco the man broke into a smile.

  Likewise, Marco smiled at his friend, “Good mornin’, Hector. As always, I never fail to see you work yourself like a donkey from early in the morning.”

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  “Well yeah man! You have to earn your bread, and I’m more than happy to do so.” Hector said with a big smile on his face.

  “You could at least get yourself some help here... Oh, right, how’s your leg doing?” He asked.

  Hector was a long-time acquaintance, due to Marco being a regular at his stall and Hector being once under the medic’s scalpel. Each week Marco would visit him first whenever shopping, as he was the closest by, and each week they would share this type of conversation on usual high spirits.

  At Marco’s question, the old man cackles with laughter before giving a light slap to his right leg in a display of confidence, “Aah, don’t worry about it; you did a great job with it. I don’t think it’ll need that staff, you said- Ghahahahaha!”

  “I’ll be the one to decide that,” The doctor chuckled, “and next time you can think twice about hitting Ladia’s Mule.”

  “Boy, we talked about this, that mule was eating my vegetables!”

  After their shared laughter, both men returned to being seller and customer. Marco selected a variety of vegetables, Hector occasionally recommending some of the freshest that he had to offer. With everything he needed, Marco bid his goodbyes to the kind old man and continued with his shopping.

  The street was considered as a marketplace of sorts, it was an unspoken agreement to gather most of their business here for the sake of convenience. Thanks to that, the street stretched for a considerable length as it contained several stalls and workshops alike.

  There, as he walked, Marco always saw a wide range of familiar faces: Dan the fruit seller, the nail-smith Vladimir, the blacksmith Mara, Samuel the fisherman, Ladia the saddler, Yue the shoemaker, and others. While he didn’t know them all on a personal level, he had contact with most of the people he saw. He had to. It was only natural for a doctor to keep up with the patients, regardless of how minor their cases were. He did have an appreciation for the people living here. He learned so over the years under his teacher and foster mother on the medical arts; “A physician’s duty is to care for your patients like members of your own family” or so she used to say.

  Such was the belief of a woman who lived her life loving this tiny corner of the world and the people who lived in it.

  As he walked through the street, he saw more familiar faces around him. It was only natural, as he had probably assisted them all at least once throughout the years as their doctor. Likewise, the more familiar people recognized their doctor. Giving him the usual ‘Good Morning!’ to which he kindly replied. It was easy to recognize his taller than the average figure, three-day beard style, short black hair, and blue eyes with bags under them. It was the look of a man in his thirties that seriously lacked sleep.

  While not many things happened within The Village, they were still in lands controlled by bandits, lands that belonged to the Kingdom on paper only. As such, injury and mistreatment were a possibility whenever someone headed out to the nearest neighboring town or city to sell their products. It did not happen all the time, at least not if the villagers were “cooperative” with the bandits.

  He wore a dark-colored, loose-fitting garment with long sleeves, closed in from the left side over to the right and held with a cloth belt, finished up with a pair of sandals. It was attire more commonly seen far across the ocean, which he always assumed she came from. They were pieces of clothing his teacher gave him, and he couldn’t imagine wearing anything else.

  But since he was the only person that dressed like this, it made him stand out.

  “Ah. Good morning, doctor.”

  When one stands out, it may call for unwanted attention.

  Marco turned around to face the source of the dignified and proper voice that called out to him. Despite her voice gave away her old age, she spoke with an authority that still had the energy to spare for years to come. An old lady that stood straight as a tree. Wearing a purple dress, hair as gray as the ashes, and a calm and distant glare that seemed to watch his every move.

  “Akira...” The man grumbled, “Waking up so early?”

  “Oh, come on, dear. You know I am a morning person. Rather, I don’t see you often at this early.” The old lady quipped.

  Marco delayed his response, looking awkwardly at his vegetables.

  “... As you can see, I’m buying some groceries for today.” He gestured to his bags, slightly stepping away from her.

  “Mn... So how is the girl doing? Has our esteemed doctor managed to take care of her?” The lady asked, taking a step forward.

  The question was so straight that it threw Marco off right after hearing it. Akira had never been one to give too many spins to a topic. Perhaps that straightforwardness and ability to make quick decisions was what granted her the position of Mayor within the Village Council.

  Marco gave an annoyed look at her, the heavy-handed way she approached the topic was not only rude, but also dangerous, “... She is doing fine. It will take a while for her to heal, thanks to them.”

  She looked at him with a stern face, “I see.”

  “Now,” Marco protested, “can you not bring this up in public? I thought I had asked you to maintain discretion over this.”

  Barely changing her poker face, she tilted her head. Then, she moved towards a small bench slightly apart from the business and people’s main road and invited him to sit down.

  “I’m afraid I need to be pushy now. They have been hungry for blood ever since their leader died.” The old woman explained.

  The Wood Fang; the largest bandit group in the now colloquially called Bandit Lands due to the sheer number of them holed up in the region. The Wood Fang controlled the region with undoubted dominance, but ever since the incident with Ellyn, they had suffered a sudden, massive blow to their power with the loss of their leader by Ellyn’s hand. Naturally, something so massive rippled across the region and beyond and now the Wood Fang was reeling from the unexpected blow.

  “But they think the other groups did it, right? We convinced them of that when they came a month earlier. They'll be fighting each other by now-”

  “Marco.”

  Her voice abruptly cuts him off, yet her expression remains as calm as ever, “I helped you cover that event because you are Karen’s son and I understand the circumstances that you come from. But I cannot endanger the lives of others for it.”

  It was this one time that her expression grew harsher, as well as the gravity of her voice, “They will eventually stop fighting when they find out that they didn’t kill Ray, when that happens, they will seek answers out of us. What then?”

  He was aware of it; he knew since the night he found her... Still...

  Marco didn’t reply, neither did Akira expect a reply as she left. Gritting his teeth, he remained there contemplating his options.

  Marco had finished his first stop on his shopping list, but after an exhausting encounter with Akira, he wanted to head back home right away. Barely half an hour had passed. He still needed to buy the rest of the groceries.

  As he walked towards Sam's fish stall, he found a familiar woman, wearing a beige off-the-shoulder dress with a black lace holding it up gently and attractively. Light brown hair, light skin that showed its lack of time under the sun, brilliant amethyst eyes that shone like gemstones, and most importantly: An ear-to-ear grin befitting an airhead. One that Marco knew all too well. Alongside the merry woman was Rigel, who stared into nothingness.

  “Saaam!!” The woman cried, “I don’t know what to pick, please help meee.”

  Unfortunately, the man named Sam was out of commission. Staying still on his seat, he rested his head on one arm on top of the table with all the fish as he tried to fight the exhaustion on him. Likewise, Rigel held with a similar expression of complete exhaustion. His gaze shot deep into space as the only way to escape his mother’s eccentricity. Both victims of Maya’s endless parroting, capable of making the most disciplined minds want to rip their ears off. She ignored them, however, or more accurately, she was completely oblivious to their reactions. Instead, she kept focusing on her fish.

  “Sam! I know you and the guys got a good catch this time around, even with the bad season. Tell me the best ones you caught!” She pleaded.

  Sam merely took a deep breath before lazily answering, “They are all good, girl. Most of them look identical and have some all around the same size. They’re good. They are all good!”

  The fisherman signaled to one of the fish before returning to his resting position. He was clearly tired at this point and wanted to either have her buy or leave. Both were fine to him. But Maya loved the taste of fish almost more than anything in this world, and would not leave any business until she had the perfect fish for dinner.

  Marco leaned over, “I see you’re working hard, Maya.”

  Maya was pulled out of her deep fish hypnosis by the voice of her best friend. Her eyes lit up with happiness when she saw him.

  Marco, however, had already braced for impact.

  “MARCO! GOOD MORNING! How are you doing in this morning?! I’m buying fish because I haven’t eaten it in two weeks, and you know fish is good for you because it has a lot of good qualities that make it a good meal, the best meal, the best meat, so I was buying fish because you need to choose carefully about the meals you choose to buy because if you choose poorly you'll have a bad time which is really bad, that's why I'm trying to choose the best fish, I already picked the best vegetables, did you know carrots make your eyesight better, apparently someone said it and put it in a book and I read that book can you believe it-”

  As if being hit with a thousand sound projectiles in a second, Marco’s face twisted in discomfort. Maya continued her barrage of words, being more than happy to talk about whatever she was talking. Being greeted like this by her was at this point an essential part of their relationship, one that he had come to accept.

  Maya was what he’ll consider his best friend, and he loved her for who she was...

  …But maybe she could tone it down a bit.

  She continued her rapid fire of words for a few seconds more. Marco stood in front of her with a smile on his calm expression. In the end, he was used to it.

  “So…” He awkwardly looked around, “fish, huh?”

  “Yes! I can’t decide which to pick.”

  Marco glanced at the fish stall. A rather larger number of fish ready to be taken was served neatly across the table, surrounded by ice. Clearly, the fishermen had no shortage, which also worked fine for Marco as he might just grab some for himself... however...

  “They all look the same... every single one.” He thought.

  He really couldn’t understand what was so hard about picking fish, he didn’t want to understand either. Marco decided to point the first one he saw, “Then how about this one. It looks nice enough.”

  Maya gasped, “That was my first guess! To be honest, it never left my mind. Alright, I’ll take this one.”

  Both Sam and Rigel let out an audible sigh of relief as she casually picked the fish. Marco took the opportunity to call out Rigel’s attention with a hand sign, to which the boy quickly approached.

  “Is something the matter?” He asked.

  “Yeah, can you head over to my place? I need someone to look over...”

  The boy stopped for a second before realizing what Marco was asking for. Rigel just gave him a casual nod. His solemn and distant, it didn’t allow anyone to pry into.

  “Ah... Sure, I’ll be happy to. Beats being here.”

  Rigel threw a very obvious glance full of disdain towards his mother, however, she did not notice and kept looking over her fish as Samuel cut it into pieces.

  Marco smiled, “Thank you, I’ll be there soon.”

  “Hm. See you later.”

  The boy replied almost nonchalantly before walking away. He did not question, nor did he voice any complaint. He just agreed and set out without delay. By now, the two of them made it a habit to chat almost daily, Marco would go as far as to call them friends. However, according to Ellyn, they only got along as acquaintances and to call them friends was an overstatement. But perhaps she was just being distant.

  Still, It has been two months since they met. While their exchanges were frequent, they remained at a surface level of discussion, never daring to touch on any sensible matter. Maybe he wasn’t ready to touch on the subject, having been witnessed during that eventful night.

  Even if it were different, Rigel probably felt the freshness of the situation as vividly as Ellyn herself.

  Marco and Maya left the fish stall after paying for the respective pieces. Walking through the business and seeing what was next on the shopping list, Maya calmly raised her voice, “... Is she doing alright?”

  Maya’s voice was low, only allowing Marco to hear, the sound of the street helped drown her voice. Yet she still was noticeably careful with her wording.

  “She might be with those injuries for about half a year total. Not mentioning how it’s gonna go after they close.” Marco lamented.

  With her finger on her lip, Maya nonchalantly spoke, “I see. So that’s why you sent him with her. You don’t know how to deal with her, and you send someone who at least can talk to her.”

  Marco stiffened as Maya detailed the situation from her understanding. Her expression softened, turning around completely from her previous behavior. Her hands tightly held onto her bags. Likewise, her eyes narrowed with concern, “What do you need me to do?”

  Marco looked in her direction, encountering the face of his best friend softly smiling at him. It was as if she could read what was going on in his head with a simple glance.

  Averting his eyes, he replied, “I... haven’t asked you for your help.”

  “Hehe... Well, are you gonna keep a girl waiting? Or do you want me to once again show that you were never good at being subtle?”

  Maya stood in front of him, forming a mischievously kind smile that played into the softness of her features. A smile that showed how much she had come to know her dearest friend over the years.