Chương 10: Clay

After eating what little we had left, I boiled a pot of water. Once the water reached its simmering point, I tossed a handful of weed into the pot. The water stopped boiling, and I began using a wooden spoon to stir it slowly. I knew it wouldn't be this easy. But I was pretty sure that boiling would be involved in the process. It was the only way to heat the weed without burning it, and hopefully, that heat would kill some of the poison.

As I kept going through the motion, I observed and thought about the next few steps. I took a deep breath and felt the hot steam enter through my mouth and nose. It traveled down my throat and into my lungs. My eyes widened with panic. I scrambled to my feet and into my tent. I frantically rummaged through my belongings before finding a cloth. I tied it around my nose and mouth. I let out a breath I had been subconsciously holding. I wasn't sure if the steam would already be poisonous.

Even though I didn't bother paying attention in most of my chemistry classes, I remembered one thing. Safety first. It would have been quite ironic if, after being given a second chance, the thing that took it away would be poisoning myself. I scoffed. For the night, I just kept repeating the process of boiling the weeds. Then, once the water was gone, I would let one of my knights who could use some fire magic dry and harden it.

I originally had planned for that to be Sebastian's job, but I wasn't sure where he ran off to. He wasn't even found inside his new, fully black room. The knights had to do it. They complained but complied. They would leave soon anyway, so it didn't matter too much to them. Once the weed was fully hard, I added water again. Then I repeated the process with the knights again, and over the whole night, that was the only thing I kept doing. I didn't even go to sleep in my excitement of trying to figure this out.

But eventually, exhaustion caught up to me, and I fell asleep inside my tent after another hardening process. Of course, we also fed the children that came to us. They were still as shy as before, but after the second meal, I could see glimmers of hope return to their eyes. Later, Sebastian would do this. I awoke to the birds chirping, the insects buzzing, and my knights talking and laughing. I stepped through my tent and was hit with a ray of sunlight.

I lifted my hands to defend against the assault and just stood there for a few minutes trying to understand that I was alive. Soon, I was eating breakfast and looking at the brick of weed lying next to me. I tapped it with my fist. It sounded like a rock. It was too hard to eat that way. So, this time I added a pot of water with the brick. Once it boiled, the brick absorbed the liquid and turned into a greenish porridge. It looked like spinach. Now, of course, I wasn't dumb enough to eat this food myself first.

So, I had my knights catch multiple test subjects. Rats and other small mammals they could find, and fed it to them. It was cruel, sure. But so was letting my town starve because I wasn't willing to go above some of my morals. Let thousands of people die or a few rats? The answer came easy to me. It made me wonder how so many mammals had survived despite the famine. Usually, they are in the same boat as humans. I also asked myself why nobody in the town had tried to capture them, but then I realized.

It was hard to—especially if you are starving. After a few hours, the rats and other mammals threw up inside their makeshift cages. It was big progress. Normally, they would have died. It was not good enough for human consumption, however. I was missing a piece. The boiling process killing a good amount of poison. But I was sure I wasn't the first to try it out. It was a given after all. I also didn't think I had to boil the weed more. There was something I didn't get.

So, I went on a walk, much to the dismay of my knights. One of them had to follow me after all. The town was as dead as before. People wouldn't leave their houses and there were even fewer curious glances than yesterday. The weed was growing rampant inside the town. Each house was accompanied by a wall of weed, almost as high as one's waist. I grit my teeth. So much food. So much of it. I knew the weed was edible. Yet, I couldn't figure out the exact process. I hated it. I hated it with all of my being.

It made me feel like I was back on Earth. Like a failure. For a brief moment, my emotions ran rampant and my mana flared. I subconsciously used it to feel stronger. Then I heard a rustle inside the weeds next to me. I ignored it for a moment, but the rustle was accompanied by a chewing sound. Again I ignored it, then it hit me like a hammer. The weeds were poisonous. Who the fuck was eating them? Through the green strands of weed, I spotted a small brown four-legged creature. A wild hare.

It bit down on the poisonous weed, and swallowed a few more times, then bolted to the side. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. I promptly followed. My thoughts ran wild, and a small smile formed on my face. Who said I had to figure this out myself? Nature would have a way, and I was going to copy it. I tried to stay low while following the hare. It wasn't concerned about me, however.

Instead, it ran in a straight line rather than in a zigzag motion when trying to lose a predator. It was bolting towards a small river in the distance. We followed. I made sure my knight stayed a good distance away from me so as not to scare the animal away. He obliged. As the hare went down a slope towards the riverbank, I lost sight of it. But I didn't panic. Instead of speeding up, I slowed down and made sure to be as quiet as possible.

I crouched, then crawled forward until my head peaked over the edge of the slope. There I could see the hare. The one that ate the poisonous weed. Yet, despite its fast digestive track, it was perfectly fine. And instead of drinking water, the small little fella chomped down on what looked like white clay. The fur around its mouth turned the same color. It hit me like a lightning bolt: Geophagy.

The process of neutralizing toxins via binding them to the clay, which would allow them to pass through the digestive track easily. I grinned. Back in high school, one of my teachers spoke about the practice of Geophagy with such passion I wondered how I forgot. She said it was a practice that connected cultures, and all mammals, regardless of where one came from. She even tested it herself and mixed extremely poisonous leaves with clay. She was hospitalized because the ratio was off. Thank you, Miss Smith.

And thank you, little hare. I let the little fella finish his meal before it hopped back to the Town, probably ready for another round. I slid down the slope and onto the riverbank. The river was by no means large. Maybe a couple of feet wide and a few inches deep. Not enough for fish, but enough so the village had a steady supply of water despite those starving times. It was more of a stream. But I knew it was part of the same raging river we had seen in Fort Barthorn.

I walked across the sand, my feet sinking down a little. A couple of feet further, the sand morphed into white grayish clay, before meeting the water and continuing below it. I stepped inside and sank further. My shoes masked in a layer of clay. Quickly, I took off my shirt and began stuffing more and more of the wet clay into my clothes. I knew a good chunk would be lost, but I didn't care. I had to do it. In the process, the white, grayish clay covered me up to my elbows, and my whole body was masked in it.

Even my face was caught in the onslaught. A few streaks of the material stuck to my cheeks and forehead. I didn't care. But apparently, my knight did. I turned around with my shirt full of white clay the hare had led me to. A man in full plate armor, with our family's insignia engraved upon his chest–a black lion's head. His hand was on the handle of his sword. It always was. But his usually calm expression was replaced with shock. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape.

He worked his jaw, but no words came out until he finally managed to speak, with his brain still not processing what was going on.

"What the hell are you doing?" the knight that was with me blurted out.

"Have you finally gone completely crazy?" I grinned brightly at him.

"Saving a starving town."

-Sebastian- He had completed his task. He had assembled the necessary force to vanquish the evil back inside the mansion. Sebastian looked back. Two middle-aged women and an old grandma followed him behind. The middle-aged women's steps were unsure, but the gait the grandma had put all of them at ease. Even him. They entered the mansion. The women gasped. Sebastian nodded. He understood their fear. Their apprehension. The enemies were creatures of nightmares. He could have sworn they multiplied.

A group of lizards hid away as they spotted them. Cobwebs had conquered all of the furniture, and rats ran rampant.

"I already suggested burning the place down and rebuilding it," he said.

"Unfortunately, my suggestion was denied, and the Lord is busy right now. There is no way to put forth a reconsideration." The grandma swatted his shoulder. Her strike was weak. Her arms bony and thin, yet the life inside her eyes seemed to refuse even death. Sebastian didn't understand how she hadn't starved yet.

"Pahh," she said.

"Boy, this is nothing. This old woman has survived wars and famines before you were even born. We will get this cleaned up soon once we have an idea what we will be dealing with." Sebastian nodded. He had recruited right. The three women had all lost their husbands in varying stages of life. One was a hunting accident. The others were famines, even if one of those famines aged back ages ago. It seemed to be a common death here outside in the Barren Lands at least every few generations.

The women were close to being next, but by now they had learned how to survive. Sebastian had no doubt Ivor had a plan in mind. He shook his head. Thinking about him was not good right now. There would be a time for this in a few minutes.

"I will leave this mess to you," he bowed slightly.

"Don't worry, boy!" The grandma smacked him again.

"Alright, girls! Let's start moving. Don't start cleaning yet, but give me a battlefield report in 15 minutes. I want to know what we are dealing with, where the problem is, and the quantity of it. The animals and insects are first. Then comes the grime and dirt." The three middle-aged women nodded wordlessly and started moving. Their steps were light, and a little wobbly, but Sebastian had already tasked the knights with bringing some provisions for them to eat. Otherwise, it would be too cruel.

The grandma seemed unnaturally enthusiastic. She walked over to a table and tossed everything on it to the ground. Next, she grabbed multiple pieces of paper and pens from different drawers that she rummaged through. Sebastian knew he had picked right. He walked into his room. The pitch-black walls and ceiling greeted him. Taking in a deep breath, he couldn't help but feel energized. The air felt clean, albeit a little burned, but for a fire mage, that might have been heaven.

Sebastian closed the door behind him, then walked over to one of the corners. There, a mishmash of twigs, sticks, and bushes had been plucked and carefully placed against the wall. It was time. He couldn't have done it inside the carriage. But now he had his privacy.

"I have to make up for the lost time," Sebastian mumbled and slowly undressed. It had been more than a month now. A few seconds later, a slender and skinny body was revealed. A body that was filled with scars upon scars. Some big, but most of them being small, with the largest amount having accumulated on his back, legs, and shoulders. For a brief moment, Sebastian stood there, frozen like a statue. Ivor's face flashed across his mind, accompanied by a brief moment of grief. The sadness was gone a second later.

It was what it was. And this was not about him.

"Oh, the gods in heaven and hell. Please forgive this sinner for the things he and his family have done, and may my pain be worth forgiveness," Sebastian closed his eyes and started praying. His hands wrapped around his bouquet of twigs. Then mana began to flow through the twigs, sticks, and bushes, strengthening them to a great degree while still leaving them flexible. A brief moment later, his hand lashed out, and the bouquet struck his left thigh, then his right thigh, left shoulder, right shoulder, back.

The process was repeated over and over again. The prayer was kept spoken in a calm voice. Blood flowed down his upper back, thighs, and shoulder, pooling below him. It formed into a crimson lake, a representation of his pain and anguish. The bouquet of suffering never stopped hitting him.