What Is Done

Chapter 39 - Remnants

We huddled between the ruined buildings of the giants. Like the town we had our run-in with Druvrot, most of these buildings didn't have intact walls anymore. They had been subjected to the weather of No Man's Land throughout the centuries. There was no one to care for them anymore. I doubt there was much in the way of landscaping if you lived in an icy wasteland either.

Hunkering down, Sellion made a small fire using the driest sticks in the area. We could finally tell it was beginning to get darker. We cooked our rations and ate in silence. No Man's Land—this entire adventure had been a wild ride. I wasn't sure I could willingly go back to my old life after this. A small piece of me was hoping this would never end. I know all things have to come to an end.

While we ate, Sellion healed the wounds on his leg, using magic. Unlike when Farieth stabbed him, he wasn't in complete shock to do nothing about it. He made the mark Sangrell's jaw left on him disappear.

"Your pants are ripped," Essaerae pulled a needle and thread from a pocket in her cloak.

"I don't know how to sew."

"Give them here," Essaerae showed him the needle, "I'll do it."

"Why?" He stood up, turned around and peeled them off. His long, knee length shirt covered below the belt, for which Essaerae and I were both thankful. Neither of us really wanted to see what was underneath. His skin almost immediately began turning red from the brisk cold.

"Magic heat spell or not, this extreme weather isn't good for your skin." She said, "Just look at you, your knees are already red."

Sellion shrugged, then laid out his bedroll to sit on. He put his boots back on, too. I tossed an extra blanket over him. 

"Stay warm."

Essaerae sewed, humming to herself. She quietly sang a hymn that most Elven children knew. Its name was Oünde i Arinn, Fré'i Ellán. I joined her in humming. The words were familiar. I loosely remember my father singing it to Khaleesi from time to time. It had been one of her favorite songs.

Sellion peeled a stick of celery with a small knife, eating the pieces he peeled off. Essaerae sewed the holes in his pants. I could tell they were made of a thick fiber-entwined material, almost like they were made to be hard to slice into. Sangrell's enchanted blade had more of an effect on his clothes than any normal sharp object would. Meanwhile, I was not sure what I should have been doing, if anything. I ate my portion of food quickly. I had been starving.

The peace ended when Sangrell peeked his head over the decaying wall. Essaerae's and my mouth went agape when we noticed. Sellion gave us a questioning look. When I pointed to Sangrell, Sellion turned and punched him directly in the face without taking a second to see who it was. It could've been Wangji for all he knew. 

"Ow!" Sangrell shouted in pain. Essaerae and I got ready to fight. "Wait!" Sangrell held out his hands to show he wasn't holding his sword.

"You bit me! Why would I not want to fight you?" Sellion held his fist up, set to right hook Sangrell in the face. 

Sangrell slowly climbed over the wall. Sellion picked up a nearly perfect square ice block and broke it over Sangrell's head. Sangrell screamed and his body went limp. He had been clobbered halfway over the wall, now his body just hung there. The block's broken bits fell to the snow under Sangrell's hanging head. 

"I'm going to make a xylophone out of your kneecaps!" Sellion yelled at Sangrell, his threats as creative as ever. Then Sellion pulled him off and threw him into the snow.

"Sellion!" I criticized. I sincerely hoped Sellion didn't just give Sangrell brain damage—that is, if he lived. 

"What?!" Sellion voiced his confusion. "I'm still salty!"