Ashes of Love and War - TodoMomo

||Chapter 14 ~ Part 1||

Shouto laid the unconscious pirate face-down on the makeshift cot.

The flames burning in the bronze tripods flickered, casting long shadows across the man's pale, sticky skin. Shouto sat back on his heels and tilted the man's head to the side to make sure the pirate didn't choke if he got sick.

The man stirred as Shouto adjusted him. His eyes fluttered open, and he moaned as he stared unseeing at Shouto for a moment before his eyelids closed again — hopefully not for the last time — and he shivered.

Shouto leaned down to the edge of the cot to grab the blanket but paused, hesitating. He stared down at the pirate, studying the gashes running across his back.

The skin had been shredded by the stympahlian's talons. The veins streaking out from around the wounds had turned green and purple from poison. And on the man's arm was a nasty cut from one of the stymphalian's feathers. It had sliced along his forearm, exposing bone.

The man shivered again, and Shouto wavered on whether he should cover him.

He decided not to. It wouldn't be safe to have anything touching either wound until they had been properly cleaned. The pirate would be lucky enough if he didn't lose his arm; he didn't need an infection on top of that.

Shouto folded the blanket back up and stood. The rest of the room was filled with the other gravely wounded. Pallets were stacked almost on top of each other in what had once been the dining room. Yet, the space wasn't big enough; only a third of those who were injured fit. The tents the pirates had brought with them were tattered. Men without life-threatening injuries were set up on cots in the courtyard or crowded in the hallway.

It was uncomfortable. Despair and pain hung over the house, sliding down Shouto's back like cold claws as it dredged up memories of the war. Of his comrades writhing in agony from incurable wounds, begging the gods for mercy — which they would never grant. And the civilians of Troy, the soldiers and innocents he'd killed, their screams and pleas as he tore Endeavor through them.

Shouto's fingers twitched, and he turned and walked outside.

The warm night air met him. During the dark, a heavy fog had crept out over the mountain, covering everything in a thick veil. It was denser than normal mist and most likely influenced by the dark magic lingering in the air.

Shouto walked until he got to the edge of the cliffs. The scent of burning stymphalian corpses from the courtyard stung his nose.

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the smell. There was a hollow sensation in his chest as he thought back on the attack. The timing. The coordination. Was it the patron's doing?

It had to be.

Shouto flexed his fingers and brought his hand to rest on Endeavor's hilt. The uptick in stymphalian activity had started a month ago, right around the time his brother had attacked their ship. Were the incidents related?

It was hard to say with the evidence they had. Dabi was certainly sadistic enough and petty enough that Shouto wouldn't put it past him to use monsters to accomplish his goals. But, Dabi hadn't known he was going to lose when they had fought. And even if he had, Shouto found it hard to believe his brother would have been smart enough to plan something like this himself.

Besides, Aizawa said it was a bird with purple and green plumage that had come to the island...

That didn't sound like Dabi. His brother's colors were purple and blue.

So who was the patron?

Shouto's lips thinned, and he tapped his finger against Endeavor's hilt. The only god he knew with purple and green as their banner colors was Overhaul — or Phobetor as mortals knew him — the god of nightmares. He had heard rumors that the god had some sort of relations with Dabi, but from what Shouto knew, the god hated monsters and considered them filthy beasts. So, there was no apparent reason he'd be involved with the stymphalian.