Realm of Holocene, a Game of Thrones-esque world with fewer politics and more creatures. Mystical and Believable.
Aden El-Rahm, a young sellsword with a -cool, calm, and confident- demeanor who holds a debauchery secret, finds himself facing a fate...
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Aden woke up in the infirmary. It was already sunset. This time he wasn't accompanied by Laura. Instead, he was tended by one of Laura's friends who happened to be also Indry's maid. She was petite and cute with dark hair and a round heart-shaped face.
"Agnes, isn't it?" asked Aden.
She glanced once and only answered Aden with a hum.
"Thank you," Aden thanked the cute small woman who tended his wounds. She didn't reply. She just hinted with a smile. Aden didn't know what that meant.
She was one of the three Aione sisters in this village, Indry and Laura's friend—Agnes. Or so he heard. unlike Indry and Laura, she was a small woman with a small lovely face and nothing of her parts appealing to Aden —only her lovely round face.
He was a bit disappointed as he expected Indry or Laura who tend his wounds. He glanced at their tables, They looked back at him. Laura smiled and Indry gave her subtly seductive gaze. They were busy with the numerous casualties of the volunteers and villagers who defended the front yard this day.
Around the perimeter of the room, at the arranged wooden cots, some patients lie still, their faces drawn with pain, while others sit upright, conversing quietly or clutching tightly to the hands of loved ones.
In one corner, Father Edgar, acted as a skilled barber-surgeon attends to a wounded townfolk, deftly stitching a gash closed while murmuring prayers for a swift recovery. Nearby, Laura and Indry move about the room, offering comfort and tending wounds to those in need.
Shirtless, Aden rose and grabbed his tunic. His line was still full of townfolks with injuries waiting for medical care.
"Ugh," Aden gingerly slipped into his tunic, wincing as the wounds from the battle stung with pain. Although they were only cuts, scratches, and bruises, each movement was agonizing. He knew he had been lucky, but still felt grateful to be alive after such a harrowing ordeal.
"I think I should avoid returning to this place more often," Aden grumbled.
Agnes giggled as she tended to another person. She happened to hear what Aden complained about.
Aden walked out of the courthouse, looking for some fresh air. He watched the villagers gathering junk and debris in the front yard. The harpies messed up the front yard really hard. They needed them to fortify the barricade back to its former sturdy state.
In the distance, Aden saw some harpies take away their fellow wounded and dead sisters. Never had Aden seen the harpies leave a dead body of their own kind on the open more than a candlestick burn.
A golden hue of ray blinded his sight from the west. He raised his hand and tried to block it.
The sunset was on the horizon, concluding the day. The harpies were once again repelled. their new strategy foiled. They went back to their nest after collecting their wounded and dead.
