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The Waystation Ch.54
🕑 Added 2023-08-16 09:03:16 +0000 UTCChapter 54
Just Passing Through II
To say the sudden arrival of the enormous Express created a stir would be an understatement. The various forces appeared unsure of what to do at first, and ultimately it did not matter. They couldn’t stop it, and Wendy was not in a slowing down kind of mood.
It pulled up to the Waystation just as Bert came around the back of the giant vehicle. He practically flew over the ground as Wendy threw open the door and waved.
There were a lot of hugs and a few growls as Tim happily reported everything that had happened to Bud, paying particular attention to everything they didn’t want him to tell. Those bits he took extra care to point out.
Wendy parked the Express in its dock between the Waystation and Trailer One before they all crowded into the Barn for a longer explanation of everything that had happened.
“Dad!” Wendy yelped as Bell tried to downplay how badly they had both been hurt. It was clear Wendy was not buying it. Scruff kept trying to sneak away and check on her plants, and they finally relented.
Next, Wendy brought out her new toys, the ‘Pretties’ gave Bert the creeps, but Bell loved them. Bell seemed to be getting along with Wendy a lot better than before, which both Bert and Wendy noticed, exchanging a relieved look.
Bert was amazed at the bone and muscle exo suit, almost wishing he had thought of getting one. In the end, it was also a little creepy, however.
He would stick with his regular armor; it was a medieval world, after all. No need to upgrade what already worked.
Bert left them all talking and went to go check on Scruff. She had been a little quieter than usual.
“How’s the farm?” Bert called as he came down the stairs into Trailer One. The place still looked a lot like a war zone. One where the plants had eaten all sides involved.
“Overgrown, unruly, and I think they missed me!” Scruff said happily as she moved between the rows of deadly plants and strange fruits.
“We all missed you,” Bert grinned. “So, want to tell me yet?”
“Tell you what?” Scruff looked away.
“Whatever it was that you didn’t want to say in front of Wendy.” Bert clarified despite them both knowing what he meant.
“It’s nothing,” Scruff said, her face looking troubled.
“Spill it,” Bert laughed.
“You don’t complain about the owner’s daughter!” Scruff grinned back.
“You do,” Bert said. “Unless you think the owners are assholes.”
“It was just one thing,” Scruff still looked hesitant.
“Go on,” Bert said. “I’ll keep it between us if you want.”
“I do,” Scruff said, still reluctant. “You’ll probably think I’m just overreacting.”
“You never have yet,” Bert was starting to get worried. What had happened?
“She just… she got really into killing those cultists.” Scruff winced at the memory. “I’ve never seen her like that before.”
“How bad was it?” Bert asked seriously.
Scruff told him about the glee and joy on Wendy’s face as she tore the People apart. About how they had tried to run, but she wouldn’t let them. How Wendy laughed as they screamed, and how she swore to come back and kill them all.
Bert winced a few times.
“Well?” Scruff asked when she finished.
“Look, I know there is something between you two…” Bert started.
“So you think I’m making it up? Out of what? A lovers’ spat?” Scruff huffed.
“Do you ever let people finish?” Bert laughed.
Scruff looked a little flushed but sat down to listen to him again.
“I was trying to tell you that I know there is something between you… and that you need to really think about if that is something you want.” He said.
“Why?” Scruff asked.
“That killing frenzy you saw? That is one of the things she got from Bell, and it probably isn’t going anywhere.”
“You think?” Scruff asked.
“She is young; she may change as she gets older, but…” Bert shrugged. “Bell has the same thing; she loves killing stuff. I made my peace with that a long time ago. You might have to think if you can do the same.” He paused. “Did you talk to her about it?”
“No,” Scruff admitted. “I didn’t know what to say. It just scared me a bit.”
“My advice is to just talk to her about it. Tell her how you felt, and get her to tell you how she felt. Maybe you can understand each other that way.”
“Okay,” Scruff said, sagging like a weight had been removed from her shoulders. “Thanks. I think I’ll do that.”
“Glad to help,” Bert said. “By the way, there is a vampire type of woman here who loves your blood berries.”
“Oh, nice,” Scruff said. “I got some new seeds to try as well.” She hesitated. “Umm, also… Wendy ran down a whole herd of deer on the way here.”
“Yeah, Bell did almost a whole herd of the Armored Bison as we went past them.”
“Gods above, they really are alike,” Scruff laughed.
“Don’t tell them that,” Bert chuckled. “They are just starting to get along.”
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The exchange of wounded was much less of a formal affair than Bert had thought it would be. Each side turned up with a group of injured, and then they just shuffled between the groups.
Winifred, Rikard and a few of their men even went and had a few drinks together afterward. The wounded themselves were either taken back to the army healers if they were nobles or left to the independent healers if they were common folk.
The healers were suddenly swamped again, with the now energized Dee dashing to and fro between the groups and keeping them apart.
Now that they had three tents, they were better able to prevent the injured from fighting each other.
The orcs kept an eye on the lines while Bud stood on the Gatehouse, a rapid-fire arrow landing at the feet of anyone who got out of line.
Bert loaded his storage bracer full of dead deer and headed down to help. They soon had a pretty good system going. While the other healers dealt with life-threatening injuries, Bert handled regrowing limbs, closing wounds, and simple issues.
In no time, they were churning through the injured before sending them to rest, eat, or in a lot of cases, back to their armies fully healed.
The healers had to tap out one by one, their mana pools empty. While they rested and ate a meal at the cafeteria, Bert churned through his stack of deer corpses.
It was almost morning by the time the last of the injured was seen too. Bert stumbled into the cafeteria, grabbed a large bowl of bison stew, and began to eat mechanically.
“All done?” Dee asked, sliding silently into the place opposite him.
“Yeah, at last.” Bert yawned. “I’ll probably go grab a bit of sleep once I’ve eaten.”
“Your people are impressive,” She said. “I’ve not seen a single fight or anything all night.”
“That are, aren’t they?” Bert smiled.
“You better eat quick,” She sighed. “They’ll be back at it in a few hours.”
“Back at what?” Bert asked. “The injured are all healed.”
“That was yesterday’s lot.” She sighed. “They are going to fight again in a few hours.”
“Seriously?” Bert sighed.
“Stupid, isn’t it?” Dee laughed. “We heal them up, and they go straight back to trying to kill each other.” She looked into the distance, “I think this will be the last day of fighting here, at least.”
“What makes you say that?” Bert asked.
“Experience,” She laughed bitterly. “Two hundred years of miserable experience.” She leaned aside as Bert spat his food across the table.
“Two hundred years?” Bert gaped at her. He would have guessed twenties at best. “You’re two hundred years old?”
“I’m closer to three hundred,” She chuckled. “But I've been with healers for two hundred.”
“What level are you after almost three hundred years?” He asked.
“No levels for vampires,” She shrugged. “We just get stronger as we consume more blood.” Dee looked at him, “That must seem strange to you.”
“Not really,” Bert shrugged. “I know pixies don’t level, and a few others. Hell, there are probably more species that don’t level than do.”
“True,” She smiled, “I’m just surprised to see a human who knows that.”
Bert let a trickle of the mana tides light up his knotwork.
“Oh!” She chuckled again. “I’m getting old. You’re Fae.” She grinned. “I wondered why you didn’t run screaming when you figured out what I am.”
“Well, I do plenty of running and screaming as it is,” Bert said with a smile. “I can’t just do it full time.”
She laughed and then wished him good night.
Bert sank into his bed, grateful for the rest.
That night he dreamed of fire and teeth and his wife watching as he struggled. She smiled and waved but did not come to help him. Just as the fire and the teeth closed around him, she turned away.
Bert wept in his sleep as the fire burned at him again.
============
On the top floor of the Barn, in her own private art gallery, Bell tossed and turned in her sleep. She flew through the skies, dodging as fast as she could. No matter how fast she moved or where she went, the bolts closed in on her.
She felt searing pain in her back as she was sent tumbling from the air.
This time no urn caught her as she fell. Her legs broke, and she whimpered in her sleep. The Lich loomed over her, laughing at her as she pulled herself away from it across the floor.
The door burst open, and a fat, swollen man with bright red skin and no hair tumbled through the door. He was wrapped in stained canvas and carrying a wooden staff. Bert, as he had been.
She cried out a warning, but the Lich moved too fast.
It turned and blasted the stumbling figure with flames.
Bert screamed in pain, and she screamed as she watched him burn.
But…
As he burned away, the fire revealed a new figure. He stood taller, with muscles covering his tanned form. Iron, Steel, Bronze, and Copper armor emerged from the flames as lights emerged from his skin. His eyes burned with wicked mirth as his mouth stretched into a crooked smile.
He posed against the fire as the lich seemed to shrink. A single smash from the burning fist of the more up-to-date Bert sent the lich screaming into nothingness.
Bell felt her heart rate increase as Bert looked down on her.
“Hey there.” He smiled, a fleck of light glinting in his eye with an audible ‘Ting.’
Bell awoke, breathing hard and irritated.
“No. Fucking. Way!”
Bert was just emerging from his room as she buzzed down to the ground floor. He looked pale and a bit shaky, but she was too pissed off to care.
“Stay out of my head!” She snarled, changing into human form just long enough to kick him in the crotch before huffing and flying off.
“Why?” Bert gasped as he fell to the floor.
=====================
Dee had been right, and the first casualties arrived before Bert had even finished breakfast. Bell wasn’t talking to him for some reason, so he headed off to help out as soon as he was done.
The flow of injured wasn’t too bad. With his help, only two of the healers needed to be on shift at any one time. That meant lots of time for them to rest and recover mana. By lunch, the injured were turning up with the occasional dead deer or other unfortunate animal.
Word had gotten around about a healer that used animal flesh. On one memorable occasion, someone missing an arm turned up with a human leg and a hopeful look. Bert carefully put the leg aside and healed the man, stressing that cutting bits off other people was not a good idea.
“So, how’s your day going?” Seb joked as Bert ushered out another man with a severed limb over his shoulder.
“That’s not going to work, soldier!” The other man Bert had met that first day had turned out to be Seb’s best friend and now bunkmate, Felix. He tore the soldier a new one and sent him to the back of the line. “It has to be animals!” He yelled out the door. “The spell does NOT work with anything else!”
“Trust me, this will save a lot of time and amateur amputations,” Seb told Bert. “I’d rather not doesn’t really get through on the battlefield.”
“Got it,” Bert nodded.
The three of them worked together well, Seb and Felix’s dark sense of humor working well with his own. The two healers often worked faster than Bert could even process what was going on. The only hiccup came with the change over to the next pair. A female healer with long red hair wound with flowers called Maggy came in together with her frequent partner, Anton, a bald monk-like man. The two pairs got on like oil and water.
It didn’t take long to see why. Anton seemed to be a faith-based healer. He often turned away those of other religions. To make it worse, his healing was slightly underpowered. Twice Bert caught someone leaving with only half their wounds healed. Anton had declared them ‘cursed’ and sent the men on. Bert found the wounds easy enough to heal and was betting Anton was trying to hide a smaller mana pool.
Maggy herself was a wonder at healing. If anything, she was almost better than Seb and Felix. Or she would be if she didn’t have to covertly assist Anton on the more difficult cases.
Bert didn’t say anything. He was no healer, just a guy with a handy ability. He cast the spell, directed it, and the magic did the rest. That fact made him reluctant to second guess what were apparently experienced healers.
None of that changed the fact that he breathed a sigh of relief as Maggy and Anton were replaced by Libby.
She took a shift all on her own because she was frankly amazing. She made the whole thing seem effortless as she weaved a series of spells that spun across the space, knitting the injured back together as the color returned to their skin and their tense bodies relaxed as the pain faded away.
“You doing okay?” Libby asked him as she let another set of spells fly across the tent.
“Fine,” Bert nodded. “You are fucking amazing, by the way.”
She laughed. “Thanks.”
The last pair of healers were twin brothers Leon and Marcus. They walked the front lines all day, picking the most injured people that could still be saved and speeding them to the front of the healing line.
Both of them were incredibly strong at self-healing, allowing them to shrug off blows and accidental spell impacts like it was nothing.
And they never stopped.
All day.
Bell even sent a pair of Multi-Bells out with food for them as the day wore on.
The battle was over by sunrise the next morning, and those still alive had been healed.
Thanks to the power of the Waystation, they walked away from healing tents as clean and fresh looking as when they first woke up that morning.
When sleep claimed him that morning, he once more found himself back in the flames and teeth of the Fortress City. This time he chased his wife as she danced through the streets. The flames and undead opened ahead of her and closed just as fast behind her as they went.
Bert fought until his energy was sapped, and his arms refused to move before he awoke, sweating and gasping at midday.
Bert sat at the lunch table and picked at his food, uncertain what to do. He couldn’t keep going with the nightmares like this. And why the hell was his wife always there?
“Talk to Libby,” Dee said as she slid in beside him.
“What?” Bert asked. He had been miles away.
“Talk. To. Libby.” Dee said again. “I know the look, so go talk to the boss.”
“What look?” Bert knew what she meant, but hey, he was stubborn.
“I heard a lot about you and this place over the last couple of days. Go see Libby. She can help.” Dee leaned forward conspiratorially, “And thanks for keeping the vampire thing quiet.”
“Okay,” Bert shrugged. “I’ll give it a try.” He smiled. “And no problem. Did you talk to Scruff yet?”
“Yeah!” Dee grinned. “She and I have been trying different methods of drying the berries and found one that keeps the effect intact!”
“That’s great, really.” Bert smiled. “I hope they help.”
“Oh, they do!” Dee grinned. “That’s why I’m coming with you when you go.”
“Huh?” Bert spun back to the table.
“Bell said I could come with you. You don’t mind, do you?” Dee asked.
“Uhh, no,” Bert said. “But isn’t Libby going to be pissed with me?”
“Oh, definitely.” Dee chuckled. “But that would be your problem.” The little vampire chucked a couple of Blood Berries into her mouth and turned away.
He was on his way to see Libby when Rikard and Winifred came over, with a third person trailing behind them.
“Caretaker Hudson!” Winifred bellowed. “How does the day find you?”
“I’m good.” Bert nodded. “And you?”
“Delighted!” She laughed. “I won!”
“No one won,” The third person was a tall, angular man with a balding pate and deep-set eyes.
“She won, Jura,” Rikard said. “We capitulated. Accept it and move on.”
“Jura?” Bert asked.
“It is of no matter!” Winifred laughed. “He will not speak again.”
“Ookay,” Bert said awkwardly.
“The point of our visit,” Rikard said in a deliberate way, “Is to thank you for the help you gave the healers.”
“My pleasure,” Bert said. “Always happy to help.”
“Good!” Winifred said. “Libby said you would agree, but I had my doubts.” She clapped him on the back and walked away, the reluctant Jura following.
“Agree to what?” Bert asked Rikard.
“Your camp, and those healers, saved a lot of lives the last couple of days.” Rikard nodded to the tents. “Much more than usual.”
“Glad to hear it,” Bert said with a sinking feeling.
“So the Waystation and the healers are now formally Neutral ground and a place of healing.”
“Wasn’t it already?” Bert asked.
“In an informal way, yes.” Rikard nodded. “A temporary way.” He said meaningfully. “Now, it is law agreed amongst the Houses.” He grinned. “As long as the Healers are with you, so are they.”
“Ah, fuck.” Bert sighed.
“I thought you would understand.” Rikard laughed.
“In short, if I leave them here and move on…”
“Then one side, probably Jura, will kill them.” Rikard shrugged. “They healed many enemies here. And House Jura may blame the loss on that.”
“Well, I’ll just take the healers with me then,” Bert said.
“To the next battlefield, of course,” Rikard said.
“Straight out of the area,” Bert corrected him.
“Good luck with that!” Rikard laughed as he walked away. “Healers are a stubborn breed.”
Bert went to find Libby.
