791.II, 17 Berelii: One last battle

There is a ship awaiting for me. My friends have secured a place for me on board, for a ludicrous price it seems. As if they had not done enough for me by now, I owe them my life five times over. The ship will take me to Amaal, its final destination, in only a few days. Then I'll be able to rest hopefully, and wait for my right arm to fully heal.

I am starting to feel better. Yesterday the healer finally came and did a great job cleaning my wounds. He had to stitch me up in a few places though, for I had shallow but long cuts on the side of my back where I landed on this cliffside. His aide had given me a copious amount of alcool to numb the pain. He made me a nice and tight holder for my arm, but took care to leave some room in the swollen area, so it feels much more comfortable now.

Soon after though, while I had barely started getting up on my feet again, the healer came back with several people and had me come out of the house. Aided by Astrid, I was conducted outside the village, pressed by a growing mob of villagers. It was hot in the late afternoon. I progressed slowly in what was now a full-fledged procession towards the gates of the desert. They conducted me atop the closest dune. Silent. A grim atmosphere surrounded me as I climbed painstakingly the few meters of sand. Each step stung and vibrated in my back. Each step as my feet were sinking in the loose sand I almost lost balance. Astrid had to haul me up at times, taking most of my weight on her shoulder while whispering some encouraging words.

What was supposed to be a simple walk up the dune felt like torture. Having finally reached atop the dune, I fell on my knees. As everyone had stopped behind, only the healer had accompanied me atop the dune. He was also one of the main priests after all, and was supposed to oversee the event to the end. He handed me a short dagger, and in a solemn voice, commanded me to complete my part of the bargain. Right, the price of blood I was to pay, I understood it was to be taken in a literal sense.

-"now give back to the desert, child", he insisted.

I laid the blade's edge in my right hand. So light, it still weighed heavy on my broken arm. Sharp, it took no pressure to slice my skin and draw blood. I watched the blood permeate from my flesh, the pain would come a second later, but honestly it was little compared to what I had gone through. I lifted my hand by a few dactyls -it was as high as I could go honestly- and contemplated the carmine liquid fall on the hot sand.

It pooled and dried quickly, forming a dark amalgam in the sand.

-"that is good enough" the healer broke the silence.

He wrapped my hand in a clean cloth, quick but mindful of my arm. I looked behind, met the eyes of Astrid and Berthod in the crowd. The others were still in prayer. Hopefully, my debt was paid now. Hopefully, the village was protected.
A few dunes further was the Ryn, immobile.

I was transported to the main dormitories after that, and enjoyed a nice meal in a festive mood. Tensions soon faded among the caravaneers and villagers, and I enjoyed visits and discussions with many people eager to hear my adventure, although all I wanted was to rest a bit more.

"In the desert [...] every step, every cord we advance is in an of itself a little sacrifice of life."

Leen Latour, 791.II, 10 Berelii