Runes, Eyes and Radiance

11-Arrival

The end of the travel was admittedly less comfortable than its start, whether due to Hector's still sore body, the fact that travelers were cramped in the remaining wagons or simply the palpable tension between Erik and their stonewrought savior.

Sadly, as the days passed, many of the wounded finally passed on and, since the caravan had to hurry both due to low supplies and the health of those still hanging on, were unceremoniously thrown out and cremated when the caravan stopped.

Even outside of the infirmary wagon, the smell of sickness spread. Within the passenger wagon, the heat of the bodies and the smell of dried blood from the battle made nearly everyone nauseous.

As supplies were low, rationing had to be done, leaving all unsatisfied and thirsty.

So, when Hector finally heard one of the scouts announcing their arrival to Merlik, the great phoenix city, he quickly shuffled to the front of the wagon, shoving his fellow passengers and getting away from the awkward situation between the two other flow users.

Merlik truly deserved its name: it had been built into the ruins of Before, abandoned, ravaged and rebuilt multiple times. As a result, the city was an amalgamation of new buildings, desolate, seemingly empty buildings as well as reoccupied and modified ruins. The air itself had a smell rust and dust, from the eroding streets, but even that felt refreshing, when compared to that he had to endure those last few days.

The city's great doors were protected by rune turrets of the past golden age: two smooth pillars of iridescent metal, atop which floated a dome of dark glass. Behind the contraptions, from the windows of the wall, guards stood watch, their runesticks glistening in the afternoon sun. 

Seeing the state the wagons were in, the guards quickly opened the doors, leading the wagons within the city's walls. At the entrance, many waited for the caravan's arrival: friends, lovers, colleagues, fellow believers, clients or employers. No matter their reason for being here, they all felt the same thing: fear. Had the person or thing they were waiting for been lost? Had the money spent or the time invested been for nothing? If it had arrived, in what state was it? As the sick and cargo were unloaded and the healthy clumsily stumbled out of their wagon, that fear became something else: for those who saw that which they were waiting for in one piece, relief and joy. For those who found it in an uncertain state, while they too felt relief, a certain fear of uncertainty crept its way into them.

But the worst, by far, was for those who waited for something or somebody who hadn't made it. They had no way to confirm it before all the wagons were emptied, yet kept hope, even as they saw others getting off, even as the chances plummeted, they kept hope. And, when they finally saw that the wagons were emptied, that all the others who had waited for something leave, they then had no choice but to face reality. This was a tragic thing to witness: all hope leaving their body in an instant, their eyes left hollow and distant. Some cried, some even collapsed, others simply turned around and left. 

While it wasn't the fault of those grieving, this despair was contagious to those who had no one waiting for them, those who had fought to protect the caravan and the survivors. For the ones that traveled alone, an insidious thought came: "It could have been me, and no one would have wept." For those who had given their all to protect, it served as a reminder that they had not been able to complete their task and the survivors were simply left with the bitter feeling that it was merely by chance that they had not been in the place of the dead.

And so, after a long travel, after the hardships they had faced, no one felt as though they had achieved something.

Quietly, Hector followed the guards, as they guided the survivors to an inn. When they arrived, the caravan master spoke.

"Don't worry, the caravan has already payed for your stay this week. I truly am sorry we could not keep you safe, but this ambush could not have been foreseen. Please forgive us."

He then simply bowed and walked away.

Hector spent the rest of the day in silence, eating his fill and getting to his room.

As the sight of the grieving still haunted him, he drifted to sleep.