A Gathering of Heroes series: Anhu

Chapter 10 (Li)

He's crying, I think to myself. Vaguely, I know. I don't know how I know, but I know.

Don't cry, I implore him futilely with my mind. I can't seem to say the words out loud though. I try to reach out to him, but my arms feel leaden by my side. What's wrong with me?

Don't cry, I think again. I wonder if it reaches him.

***

I groan. My mind is groggy. Somehow, I think that I should be in pain, but all I sense is pure numbness. I can't even tell where my limbs are in this haze.

I move my head experimentally. It still moves. I try to remember where my fingers are and try to move them as well. They move. Slowly, methodically, I run through my body parts in my head and move them one by one. I don't appear to be missing any and feeling is returning to me.

I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse though. I seem to have broken through the haze all too suddenly because, without warning, my head starts pounding, my body feels like it's been set afire, and my lungs can't catch air quickly enough. I sit bolt upright, or as upright as I can with this weight on my right arm, and wheeze for air. It doesn't help. The weight on my right arm lifts, and someone is saying something. I can't hear what they're saying and I can't see what's going on. Everything seems too bright, yet too dim, all at once.

A cup of something is brought to my lips and they're trying to make me drink it. I don't know what it is. I struggle on instinct and I think I knock it away with my left arm. There's a shock of pain that runs up my arm at that little contact and I gasp again. I feel nauseated. Dizzy. Someone is murmuring something next to my ear and I can't hear what it is, but somehow it doesn't feel too bad now.

***

When I wake this time, I am more aware. I stare in front of me at the tarp that must be a tent of some sort. I feel the heavy weight on my right arm again and this time, I recognize it as a body, Xiaolong's to be precise. I glance down at the way he is curled up around my arm and wonder how long he's been like that. I wonder how long I've been out and where we are. We don't own any tents like this, so we've obviously been picked up by someone, hopefully a friendly someone. I wonder where Qiuhuo and the others are. It seems odd that Xiaolong is here when the others aren't.

I again test my muscles, twitching each one only barely so as to not disturb Xiaolong's sleep. I am indescribably sore. I don't think I've ever been this sore before, not even after that one terrible row I had with Hongye when I was younger. I think back to the plains, to the cluster of firs, to the river, to the flood, to the water. The water that didn't feel like water. I close my eyes and think on it. Qi-imbued water. That must have been what that was. Even though water has always been a weak point of mine, the qi must have made it that much worse.

I think I hear someone open the flap of the tent and I close my eyes and remain still, feigning sleep. The person moves quietly around the tent and, eventually, I feel the blanket removed from on top of me. Xiaolong stirs and murmurs something, but he doesn't move. The person carefully unbinds my loose tunic and starts removing the bandages from my wounds. I wince when the person puts on a fresh dressing and rebinds my wounds, but I don't think they notice. I'm not sure why I'm feigning sleep, but for the time being, it seems like the better approach. After some more quiet movement around the tent, I hear the flap open softly again and the footsteps fade away.

I let a good measure of time pass before I open my eyes again. I hear sounds all around now, signs that people are moving about this camp and beginning their day. Again, I wonder where we are and who these people are. Xiaolong stirs next to me and sits up quite suddenly, rubbing his eyes blearily. He looks around confusedly, then comically crawls on all fours to the side of the tent before pulling himself up by the tarp and letting himself out. There is a clatter of noise outside, followed by quiet murmurs. I can't hear what's being said, but after a while, Xiaolong shuffles away with his characteristic shuffling gait, taking with him what sounds like four or five other people. Strange. The footsteps do not sound like Qiuhuo and the others, and there are too many people at any rate. But Xiaolong also doesn't trust easily. That begs the question: who are these strangers outside?