Chapter Text
The townsfolk of Oakhurst were settling in nicely. The beacon in the town had been consecrated without issue, eleven of the thirteen wanderers feeling relief from their weariness as the warm glow washed over them. Despite the monster hoards, and Cyyrus’s insistence on the existence of vampires, the people who wandered into this dump seemed to find some peace.
Which all changed when the man came from the river.
Legs was working to get a proper place to treat wounds open. Important for a settlement. Apo and Abolish were working on a watchtower, in case any monster hoards tried attacking in full force. Sausage went with Ren, Pearl, and Martyn to map out the area near town. Drift, Shelby, Cleo, and Pyro were building their own houses. Owen was getting lumber so they could build up more. And Cyyrus was pacing around the outside of the wall, wary about the threats both in the dark, and in the walls of the town.
Cyyrus scratched at their bandaged neck, Legs worked on an insulated cupboard for medicine, Shelby built up her walls, Apo checked the integrity of the outer palisade. Trees hit the ground with three swift chops from Owen’s axe, Martyn laughs at a dirty joke Sausage made. Cyyrus noticed movement in the trees. Coming down the path towards town. The groups that left the walls all had lanterns, so he was on edge. The shadows gave way to a humanoid figure, slouched and limping towards the light of town.
Cyyrus called out to the residents. “AAH! Guys, something’s out there!” Abolish looked up first. Then Drift, then finally Legs. As the figure moved desperately slowly along the path, it became easier to see. A sickly, blue-haired man, with dazed eyes and purple threatening his lips. Shivering, drenched in water and covered in blood.
Legs sprinted out to meet the man. He was dressed strangely, in blue and white stained leather that matched his cyan hair, with a fur-lined hood and boots. One of his arms was bandaged in its entirety. Gold and gem jewelry decorated his hands, neck, arms, and a pair of pointed ears. A white-and-yellow gold circlet glittered against his head, only overshadowed by the large golden antlers that sat on top of it.
The man raised his head as Legs ran towards him. He stumbled a bit in his stance, tears streaming down his face when the doctor got close. With an unceremonious plop he fell into the doctor's arms, unconscious. Legs was met by Apo and together they lifted him to the doctor’s pitiful excuse of a clinic. Legs needed proper space to examine him, but even in the dark he could see the worst injuries. Two giant slashes in his back. Big enough and deep enough to reveal his shoulder blades.
Many things happened in the days it took for the man to wake up. The townsfolk had come together to help finish the clinic, now that it was urgent. They had found two more beacons, one at the lake, one at some strange obelisk across the river. Cyyrus had convinced himself that the new mysterious person was a vampire, and was promptly banned from visiting him. There was a night where Owen had taken Pyro out to map the area, and at the same time Cleo, Pearl, Shelby, Sausage, and Ren had gone out separately. Cyyrus, drift, and Abolish went out on the night as well, but in the opposite direction of the others.
The townsfolk had discovered something terrible. They were trapped. There was some barrier that kept them in the confines of the town and surrounding area. Legs wrote it off as hysteria. Cyyrus blamed vampires. Ren mumbled something about strange well-dressed men who show up with frostbite in late summer. Said man had been the point of gossip in the town since he showed up.
Sausage was banned from seeing him like Cyyrus was, after he went off about a romance with someone he latched onto after waking. Martyn kept getting caught looking just too long at the man’s valuable jewelry. One of the rings did “Go missing” at one point, but it showed back up after a few hours of people throwing accusations.
But Legundo was most worried about the man himself. He was suffering from hypothermia when they got to him, it was obvious he had been near drowned before he stumbled in. Legs had taken note of every scratch and bruise he had, the moment he could. Along with zombie bites and arrow wounds from skeletons, he had the gashes on his back, a jagged rock in his head (luckily not deep enough to fracture the skull), cracked ribs, and a twisted ankle. Through unfortunate experience, Legs had discovered that the circlet and antlers were separate. The antlers were fused to the man’s head. God knows why, or how?!
The last disturbing point on his condition was the bandaged arm. When legs peeled the wraps away to examine it, the smell was the first thing that hit. The doctor had expected some of these injuries to be at risk of infection, but this- this was old. Black, sticky blood, discolored skin, and purple veins around it. Nothing like Legs had ever seen. A terrible gash on his forearm, caused by something. A bear, a cougar, it was doubtful that anyone would be able to tell. Doubtful, not impossible. If only one among them had seen it…
Legs was organizing the vials on his shelves with Drift when the man started. They both caught the sudden movement when he shifted onto his side. Legs sat next to the cot and before they knew it the man let out a groan. Drift took that as a sign to go tell the others that he was waking up.
A hand lifted onto the shoulder it stemmed from, rubbing circles in the places it could reach. Legs noted this as a sign that he wasn’t paralyzed and still had a nerve response to pain, both good signs. People were shuffling around outside now. With another groan the man opened his eyes slowly. He tried to prop himself up on his elbow, and Legs sprang out to support him until he was fully sitting up. Trying to give him gentle encouragement, Legs rested his hand on the man’s head once he was stable.
“There we go. You okay?” Legs gave a small smile as his patient gained more clarity in his eyes.
Then he started talking, and Legs’ face fell.
Looking back on the current circumstances, Legs was grateful that language barriers hadn’t been an issue up to now. Fourteen people all traveling from completely different places, all of them being able to communicate was nothing short of a miracle. But Legs didn’t even recognise what language the person in front of him was currently rambling in.
It was some roller coaster of hard sharp consonants, and softer breathy vowels. Not flowing and uvular like french, not harsh and clear like German. Legs knew a few latin-rooted languages through his travels, but this was nothing like the language system he was familiar with. And the man was panicked, which made it even harder to make out any inflective clues. He could pick up a couple words, names and important things he guessed(hoped). “Xor--th”, “Jim-uey”, “Tef–-des”. Legs put his hands up to try and calm the obviously distressed foreigner.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re safe. Breathe.” The man focused in on Legs when he spoke, and his frenzied words petered out into a small squeak. Legs paused, hoping that he got through to him, but then the man burst into tears. Legs grabbed the man by the shoulders, trying to calm him with more coos and soft words, but it was failing miserably.
The door to the clinic slammed open at the worst moment. Legs glared behind him as boots stomped in.
“-- And I don’t care about no ‘policy’! I’m getting my answers!” Cyyrus continued to yell as he stormed into the room, immediately the man jumped. Legs stood in defiance against the alchemist, ready to scold them all the way into the woods. Cyyrus bounded past the doctor faster than he could grab him, and shoved their face far too close to the poor, disoriented man.
“You! Who are you, what are you doing here, and are you a vampire? Don’t try to dance around the question; I know a vampire when I see one! No one just walks in the dark soaked through and is- AAGCKH!” Cyyrus yelped as Legs yanked him by the scruff of his shirt. Martyn and Cleo had pursued Cyyrus into the clinic, and helped Legs drag him out. None of them really cared if they were being too rough, they deserved it at this point. Legs watched as Cyyrus was pulled back to his house, kicking and screaming all the way. He sighed before going back into the clinic, hoping that the shock didn’t scare his patient mute.
But as he entered the room again, he was met with an unexpected sight. The man was sitting near the edge of the cot, still crying, but not hysteric anymore. He was fiddling around with some weird textured toy, like they make for children. Plopped on the stool next to the bed was Shelby, criss-cross, smiling at him. She looked towards Legs and gave a guilty look.
“Oh!... Sorry. I heard him crying, and I just thought- I know you said we shouldn’t crowd him, but, you know- touching something nice always helps me calm down, so…” Legs held up a hand to stop her.
“No, no. It’s fine. You’re right. You helped, thank you.” He pulled up another chair to sit in, and turned to the man. “Sorry about,” He gestured to the door, “All that.” The man looked at him in acknowledgement, and turned back to the toy in his hands. The three of them sat in silence for a moment.
“His name is Scott.” Shelby finally blurted. Legs turned to her in disbelief.
“You can understand him?”
“Well… no.” Shelby drooped. They rubbed the back of their head before continuing,”I have no idea what he’s saying, honestly. But I tried some gestures once he stopped hyperventilating. Pointed at myself, said my name and bowed a little bit, then gestured to him to do the same,” She straightened in her seat, puffing her chest. “‘Scotte Tefdersesdes Smajor Ga Rivenadelle. Xif Ga Frengray Delrm Smajor Ga Rivenadelle.’ That’s what he said, then bowed a little like I did.”
Legs let out a ‘huh.’, Turning to the man on the cot, getting his attention.
“Scott? That’s your name?” Scott nodded in response. Legs nodded, holding a hand to his chest, “Doctor Legundo.” Scott held up a finger as he set down Shelby’s toy.
“He... hello.” Scott was still hiccupping through his tears but was understandable.
Legs sputtered. “You- you speak English? Really?”
Scott took a second. “Not… well. Sorry. I Freaked out. could, could not… uh, translate. Not well. Sorry.” His face was going flush.
Legs sighed in relief. He was happy that at least they wouldn’t need to work around trying to explain everything. Scott turned to Shelby. “Also, Shelby. Your words. Words. That’s not right… Nevermind. It’s good, whatever it is. Why are you tall?”
Shelby tilted her head with a confused chuckle, “What?” The reaction made Scott go red. He seemed to realize something.
“Oh. Sorry. Aeor, I’m out of it. Um, I know someone named Shelby. Looks and sounds like you, too. But shorter. I got mixed around for a second… Sorry.”
“It’s normal to be delirious after all the blood you lost,” Legs desperately tried to shift the conversation back to an important topic, “Looks like you aren’t suffering from complete amnesia, thank God,” Legs didn’t notice how Scott flinched at that last word, “Do you remember What happened?”
Scott thought for a moment. “I think… I think I was kidnapped… or something. All I know is I fell asleep in my bed, and woke up drowning in a river. Then I trudged through the woods, got attacked by mobs, found a path, and ended up here,” He looked around the room.
“Where… where is here, by the way? It sure doesn’t look like the mountains.”
Legs’ brow furled. Shelby slumped back in her chair. There weren’t proper mountains for at least a provenance, more depending on if you consider a hundred-foot hill a mountain.
“Well,” Legs started. This was going to be heavy, so he went slow, “You’re in Oakhurst. Or what’s left of it. We’re in Baravian territory, near the capital.”
Scott nodded slowly, looking off somewhere else. Trying to regain his composure, straightening out and wincing as the stitched wounds on his back. He’d been too out of it to fully register the pain he was in. He reached a reactive hand towards his back. His eyes went wide.
“Wait- what? What’s-” He reached further on his back, breath speeding up. Legs could see the panic growing in his eyes as he threatened to tear the stitches just in his reach. Legs extended a hand to stop him, cursing himself for letting Scott’s environment become so hectic right after he woke up. He knew he didn’t have the best bedside manner, but-
“WHERE ARE THEY?!?!”
The slightly slurred mumbling Scott had been spouting since he woke up gave way to an ear-piercing scream. His eyes were blown wide. He doubled over in pain, another ragged scream passing his lips. His hand was still raking across his shoulder. Searching for something, but all he was doing was ripping his skin back open. Shelby yelped as the doctor tried to hold Scott’s arms in front of him, and Scott received the action rather well. Only kicking legs in the gut, instead of lower.
Scott was stronger than Legs and Shelby expected. Yes, he was tall, and proportional to his size. But his clothes, build, and condition made Legs lower his guard. Stupidly, as he was coming to realise. Scott flailed around, feet trying to keep Legs away while his hand was still straining his stitches. All while still crying and screaming about how something was gone. Or missing. In his panic he wasn’t really focusing on articulating what English he managed.
Legs moved without thinking. Maybe it was a trigger from the warzone, a kicking man turning into a cornered soldier. Maybe it was muscle memory from all the bleeding comrades that were too focused on staying alive to accept the help they needed. Maybe it was a misplaced pity. But whatever it was, his arm instinctively grabbed a small pouch in the bottom of his medical bag.
Legs had done it a thousand times, so it wasn’t long until it was over. Scott was held down after he missed a buck of his leg. One arm held across his chest as Legundo pinned the other to the table. The thrashing did nothing to hurt the doctor’s steady grip as he pinched the skin near the elbow smooth, before injecting a needle into Scott’s veins. The man tried to flip his body over, but Legs didn’t let up his grip. He kept Scott pinned until he went limp. Not unconscious, but too sluggish to do much else than shake and cry.
Legs straightened himself out, breathing hard. He leaned down and brushed blue hair out of a sweat-streaked face, eliciting a broken sob from the body below him. Legs didn’t know why. He tried to soothe him as he was coming into the high, telling him the pain would dissipate soon, but Scott didn’t calm down. Not really. The medicine had just dulled his pain enough for him to not hurt anyone. It seemed to do nothing for his mental state.
Shelby was obviously shaken from the event. She looked up at the doc with wet eyes.
“What- what did you give him?”
Legs put a hand on her shoulder. “Just morphine. I only have a couple doses on hand, but luckily I started preemptively making more, once I got him stabilized.” Shelby nodded weakly.
Legs sighed. “You should probably leave. I think everyone has had enough excitement for now. I’ll tell people if anything else happens, or if we get more information.” Shelby turned to leave, looking back at Scott one more time before walking out of the clinic.
Legs ran a hand through his hair, taking deep breaths. He refocused himself to preparing new bandages for the next time they would need to be changed, and antibiotics for when Scott could swallow medicine.
“...Do-c…?” Legs turned to the cot. Scott had shifted onto his side, closed in on himself. His eyes were glossed over. He looked up to the doctor through tears. “Can I… ha-ve my necklace? Ple-se?”
Legs opened the drawer he had set all of Scott’s jewelry in. It was much more than Legs would ever stand. Scott had been wearing three necklaces when he made it to town, but the doctor imagined Scott would break down if he had to speak again. He brought all three pieces to the bed and Scott lifted up one of them, holding it to his chest.
Legs would admit, it wasn’t the one he expected Scott to take. One necklace was purely ornamental, big and covered in jewels. One looked like a religious item, an elk emblem in gold that was accompanied by deer teeth and a white bird feather. That was the one Legs expected Scott to take. But no, he grabbed a simple golden chain, with two small emeralds on either side of a single, large blood diamond. Maybe it had sentimental significance?
Scott finally seemed to be calming down some. And Legs was exhausted. The sun was starting to set, a red moon peeking over the treeline. So as his patient dozed off, red gem still pressed to his heart, the doctor dragged himself upstairs. His bed enveloped him, and everyone in Oakhurst empathized with the sentiment. Scott's screams had sent his tiredness through the town. Even Avid just wanted to rest for now. So the red moon held watch over them as they slept.
Most of them.