A cherished Aspiration

"Get up, you can do better than that!"

I am currently lying flat on the ground of our sparring place. Why am I lying here? Because Eleanor has 'neatly' placed me there during our last match. I drag myself away from the all-too-familiar dirt and give it another go.

Ever since the day of the raid, it's been clear for everyone to see that I got way worse at fighting. Eleanor and Loren seem to accredit it to me almost dying in that scuffle, that coming this close to death has left me scarred and hesitant.

After all, such an ordeal would leave any now fourteen-year-old shaken down to the core.

Maybe they aren't entirely wrong, but I also know of another reason. Though I can’t see her anymore, I can still hear her and still feel her presence.

"It burns..."

My would-be co-pilot seems to be out of sorts. Her rampant emotions keep crashing into me; she keeps talking incoherent nonsense and doesn't respond to me at all.

My working theory is that she’s fallen into some kind of slumber and is currently trapped in some terrible nightmare. Maybe the very same we both already know. But why? She's never slept before, at least not since she spoke to me the first time.

The only thing that still nags at my mind from the day was that weird plant. I have no clue why it was there. Is there a connection I'm not seeing?

"Focus!"

Eleanor lunges right at me. I barely manage to pivot away.

While I am certainly still performing worse without my assistant, these past few months have forced me to improve on my own. It seems relying too much on her help had stifled my growth.

For my counter, I drop down low and try to sweep her off her feet. She throws me a quick smirk and deftly skips over my kick. Not letting the opportunity pass her by, she hits me with a kick of her own straight to my head. And so I find myself on the floor again.

She hurries over and reaches out her hand to me.

"I didn't hit you too hard, did I?"

While I think I heard the bones in my neck make a very disconcerting sound, I feel fine, mostly. She's clearly worried enough about me as is, so I'll just keep that to myself. I simply take her hand; she drags me up.

"You're getting better; if you keep it up, you'll be ready again in no time."

Thanks for the encouraging words, my dear. I very much understand the need for me to be 'ready', but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

"Maybe so..."

"Let's take a break and watch the others, okay?"

She practically drags me away to a spot overlooking the rest of the hall. Her once-soft hands are now filled with calluses, both from working the mine and readying herself for what's to come. Her well-defined muscles are a testament to what she's endured so far.

Though looking around now, almost everyone around here now looks way healthier and bulkier than before. The supplies we got during the raid have been truly invaluable.

With the large amount of surplus food we possess, all of them need to spend less time in the mines. Which in turn does wonders for their health.

The time they've gained is now spent in diligent training. They are shaping up to be a capable force yet. When I first set foot in here, I doubted this could ever work. But now, I could trust any one of them to guard my back. Though it would be even more prudent to never let it come to that.

Furthermore, I see a lot of new faces; our ranks must've grown quite a bit. Though new slaves are constantly bought and brought in here, after a noticeable drop in human labourers at the mines, the overseers must have purchased a large number of slaves all at once.

Thus new humans and elves alike flooded the slums. Loren quickly recruited the elves from that batch. They are still in a somewhat healthy condition, so with a little training, they too will be an asset to our cause.

Our armoury was also greatly enhanced. Not only did we gain quite a few more crafted blades, but the craftswomen also managed to furnish a few metal breastplates out of stolen cookware. It's still all a bit shoddy, but better nonetheless.

Even the wine found some use, these spirits being used to lift the people's spirits. Eleanor and I both tried some, though I can’t say I enjoyed the taste. She, however, was over the moon. That night she was sticking to me like glue.

Looking at things objectively, I think we are ready. Or at least as ready as we'll reasonably get. But beyond 'bash in the gates with a ram while the others use shields to deflect projectiles', we don't really have anything resembling a strategy.

The best idea I've had so far was trying to climb the walls and open the gates from there. But after some quick attempts from both Eleanor and myself, it became rather clear to us that without any tools, this is an impossible task.

Even if we were to throw something akin to a grappling hook up there or use a very large ladder, we'd be spotted and shot down within seconds.

"What are you thinking about right now? I know what that frown of yours means."

"I'm at a loss how to open the gates. The ram might work, but there will be loads of dead. There has to be a better way. One that eludes me, it seems..."

I sigh. She huddles up close to me.

"We will manage, even if we just use the ram. I'll be there to protect you, after all."

She says these words with such confidence, I couldn't even begin to grasp where she's getting it from. Is she trying to appear strong for my sake? Trying to keep my faltering morale up? No matter.

"Thank you, Eleanor, for everything, really. I wouldn't know what I'd do without you. We'll be free soon enough, all of us."

She smiles at me, her cheeks flushed. She plays with her hair. After a short spell of silence, she asks:

"What would you like for us to do once we are free, Isayah?"

This question almost sends me into shock; I hadn't thought about it at all thus far. My new life had been nothing but a constant scramble to survive until now. Once my family is safely outside these walls, what would I like to do?

For my 'entire' family to be accounted for, I still need to uncover what my 'dearest' father is currently up to, or who he even is in the first place. If he is the scumbag I assume him to be based on Jesha's vague allusions, I'd really like to give him what he deserves for making Mother suffer.

But that isn’t what she’s asking. She wants to know what comes after, once everything is over.

“I think I’d like us to build a little cabin in a forest by a lake. Wait for Mother to get better and spend our days there in peace. Something simple like that. To even find such a forest, however, we’d probably have to travel quite far...”

She hugs my arm tightly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Was she always this beautiful?

"I think I'd like that very much. We could even see a bit of the world until we reach the perfect place. It'd be a dream come true..."

This is to be a reminder of why I am doing this, all of the awful things that make my stomach turn. To see her happily smiling in that cabin we'll build together. To see Mother happily working a little garden, her body fully able again.

"Where is Loren? I need to speak with him! It's urgent! Very much so!"

I am pulled away from the pleasant daydream by a panicked elf yelling for Loren. Eleanor is on her feet in but an instant.

"I know where he is; follow me!"

And she darts off, the elf in close pursuit of her. He appeared panicked enough for this to be a serious matter; I too hurry after them.

As we enter a small cave pocket that has been designated the 'strategy room', I see Loren standing around a wobbly table with the other warriors, the ones that instruct the others.

“Here, drink. Take a deep breath, then tell me what’s wrong.”

The panicked elf takes the flask that Loren is offering to him. After taking a few big gulps and some deep breaths, he continues.

"Several of our people have started coughing up blood and become feverish. It seems to be spreading, but we don't know how yet."

Oh no. This is terrible! I need to act now, before it's too late!

"Separate them immediately! We must set up a quarantine zone; no one healthy is allowed near the afflicted!"

They look at me, unsure if my orders are to be followed. Seriously? This is obvious! If you can’t grasp that much, I’d have to question what you’re even good for besides swinging a weapon; furthermore, what the hell are you doing in this sad excuse of a 'strategy room'?

"You fools! He's the only reason you are even fed; follow his damn instructions!"

Thank god I've got Loren; he backs me up without a second thought. The others quickly leave us to put the necessary measures in place.

I grab Eleanor's hand and clutch it tightly. I need to remain calm if I am to successfully navigate this calamity. She gives me a calming smile.

“Tell us what to do, Isayah. We trust your judgement completely.”

Both of you, I’m so grateful I can rely on you. Deep breaths. I can do this.

My greatest fear has come to pass: we might be facing a plague, one that could spell the end for everything I've worked for so far...