Born a Monster

481 Blood and Fire

I squinted. “It looks like under two hundred soldiers.” I said.

Mother shrugged. “Better night vision than I have.” she said. “Can you see the banners?”

“Not well enough to make them out.” I said.

“Pity. Can you make out colors?”

I laughed, shook my head. “I am unaware of any human with that ability.” I said.

“Bah.” she said. “Still, that’s probably exactly why they chose night; they probably think they’ll get into less trouble if nobody knows who they are until morning.”

“I don’t see how they could believe that.” I said.

“They think their wounded can just vanish in here.” she said. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

She tapped her foot twice. “How many cots do we have free in the red tent?”

.....

“Three, I think.” I said.

“Assholes. Okay, then. Set out all the bunks, sanitized or not. Unsanitized near the yellow tent, sanitized by the red. I need to send my useless son and my adopted son to ask for all the cots our supply sergeant has.”

I blinked my eyes. “How many wounded are you expecting?” I asked.

“I don’t know! Between ten and sixty, depending how good the defenders are.” she said. She then set out to find her relatives.

Would anyone CARE if I just put the cots near where they needed be and went to sleep? That was a stupid question.

[Progress: 28...]

There was a loud crash, then another, as a series of ladders fell against each other like dominoes.

[Progress: 44/100 soldiers slain. You must kill 56 more soldiers to complete this quest.]

What?

No, I needed to focus. If sixteen were dead, then there were... roughly three times... close to fifty wounded. “We’re going to need more cots.” I said, and began running.

Both Husband and Son were out when the first soldiers began arriving, those carried by their fellows. NOW I could see the heraldry clearly. Eagle Strike and Wolf Howls. Both professional soldier units, both of whom saw the other as rivals.

None of those arriving in anything resembling good shape.

“Orderly!” Mother commanded. “Get them to bunks! We’re too busy doing triage!”

There was an orderly? I looked around for him or her.

“You!” she shrieked, “You, human boy! Tonight, you’re an orderly. Get new wounded to us rather than bunks, and get the ones we’ve triaged to bunks by red or yellow, as we tell you.”

“There won’t be enough bunks; if they don’t get back soon with more, I’ll be wrapping wounded up in blankets and putting them on the ground.”

She nodded. “Good, you understand. Get to work.”

Merciful Gods! Strength AND Labor still wasn’t enough to get them all in bunks. There was a backlog, and it didn’t take long for the soldiers to realize those with light wounds were near the red tent, and those who were just being made comfortable until they died were near the yellow. And, in the manner soldiers do, they physically picked up the bunks containing their friends and lugged them back to the yellow area.

I was busy, and I wasn’t sure I cared. And then he arrived, his guards striking aside those who were between him and the senior Vordhamsdottor. “My daughter.” he said, weeping openly. “You must fix my daughter.”

“General, I... my adopted son just became available.”

“NO!” he said. “Your husband or you, it must be one of you.”

“That choice is yours, but I need to stop this bleeding, or this soldier here will die.”

“Then he dies!” the general said. “This is my DAUGHTER, and you WILL treat her RIGHT NOW, or I will kill this soldier whose name I don’t even know.”

The paleness on the soldier’s face was not entirely due to anemia. “Hrolf.” he said, “My name is Hrolf.”

“Hrolf.” I said, reaching out to grab him by the belt. “I need you here, by this campfire.”

“Why?” he asked. “You can’t just leave me to die.”

“I could,” I said, “but I’m not going to. Now get over here and let me see.”

[Bleeding Wound, Ongoing Seepage: one health per minute.]

“Archer?” I asked.

“Fell on one of our own spearmen.” he said.

“Okay.” I said, handing him a wooden dowel. “Put that between your teeth and bite on it, I’m going to need to burn the wound closed.”

“B-Burn?” he said. “Maybe we should just apply more pressure?”

“No. The wound needs to be shut.”

“My fortune is to die in fire.” he said. “Is there no other way?”

I grumbled. “If this kills me, I’m hanging around to throttle your ghost.”

Then, I did the incantation. You’re not supposed to do that to convert mana, but he didn’t look like he’d be alive if I took the ten to fifteen minutes that normally took.”

“Spirits of Blood and Water, of life-giving Sun and Nature, hear my voice. I am Shaman and Dreamwalker, and I implore you this favor. Help me transform the mana of your essences into that of the Miko Light. Minor Radiant Miko Hands.”

SOMETHING was there, it was watching, and it found it amusing to assist.

“Oh.” he said. “Oh, that feels much better.”

He looked like he was going to pass out, but instead his wound closed. “Get him to that cot.” I told his friend.

“You... you just used forbidden magic to save his life.” the soldier stuttered at me.

“IF that offends you, then by Loki, you have a knife. Slit his throat. Or if you want him to live, get him in that cot there and get both blankets over him, with the edges tucked underneath him. Grab one of those candles, and watch the color of his lips. Without getting too much wax on him if you can manage that.”

“What color am I looking for?”

That was a good question; I didn’t know if hobgoblin lips turned blue or purple, or some other color if they were suffering [Severe Anemia]. “Look for any unusual color, and get one of us if you see one.”

I got back in time to see the general draw his sword and set it against Mother’s throat in a single motion. Kudos to him; I certainly couldn’t fault his technique.

“And I say, you live less than a breath longer than she does.”

Mother met him, gaze for gaze. “Nothing can restore your daughter. Even if she lives, it will be as a cripple.”

“But she WILL live?”

“No, you dolt, that’s what I’m telling...”

“Healing potion!” I said thrusting it between them. “Lesser healing potion mixed with twenty four nutrition. Depending upon her nutrition...”

The general swept it out of my hands, tearing at the cork so hard that it broke off. He smacked the rest into the bottle with the hilt of his sword and poured it into her lips so quickly she nearly drowned on it.

She coughed, and then swallowed, her eyes rolling back into her head.

“She looks worse!” he said, glaring at me.

“Her health total is marginally better.” Mother said. “But the internal bleeding...”

“You!” he said, grabbing the collar of my medical shirt for emphasis. “MORE. NOW.”

Incidentally, dropping orderlies on the person they’re trying to save is NOT the proper, approved, or even experimental medical procedure.

I had bandages, but she wasn’t bleeding. She had [Broken Ribs, times eight], a [Concussion], and a [Fractured Wrist]. She had [Anemia], [Nausea], [Faint Aura], and...

Wait, [Faint Aura]?

DAMN YOU, LOKI.

To some extent, guardian angels of all faiths look distinct. No angel needs to burn in those colors. Colors that shouldn’t exist; that there just aren’t words to describe. She burned in those colors.

she said.

I asked.

she asked.

I asked.

She looked at the general.

“General.” I said. “I need to get some of your blood into your daughter. About twenty health points worth.”

“My blood will kill her.” he said. “She takes after me in soul, but her blood is more her mother’s.”

I asked the angel.

she said.

“Okay.” I said. “We bleed you into this bowl, convert the blood into this second bowl, and then get it into your daughter.”

“General.” one of his guards said, “This seems ill-advised, sir.”

“You can do this profanity?” he asked.

.....

“I think so.” I said, purchasing the [Blood Conversion] ability from Lifeshaper. I’d need other abilities, some of which I didn’t understand why I had access to.

There was no time to care about such details. Mother hadn’t been entirely wrong to consider Brittani Fire-Born a lost cause.

Without the angel there? We’d have had a vastly different type of bad night.

I would later learn that the soldier who caused that error was infected. Much as I hate my System, sometimes it is uncannily well informed.

No, it was NOT foresight. I had them because they were snacks.