119 Reminiscence (2/2)

[Roots of the Kindred One] connected all their fates, amplifying their strength and mitigating damage by spreading it all throughout them. A supremely powerful spell on a level that Ivo figured had not been cast in centuries at the least, but even that was not enough.

Individually, Ivo knew none of them could do anything against the demons, not even the priests among them such as himself. There was simply far too much of a difference in raw power between an individual farmer and an individual demon, and there were far, far more demons than there were farmers.

So Ivo had linked them into an unified unit, but this could only go so far. The wounds they received from all ends accumulated among all of them, and as more and more of them succumbed, the worse these wounds would become and the weaker they would get.

Still, it was because of the great lady's spell that they had only lost a quarter of their numbers. They would have surely been wiped out to the last man by now without it, hunted down by hellhounds or bludgeoned to death by flying imps.

Ivo clenched his fists around his rake. The metal end had become warped and bent entirely out of shape from blunt trauma and extreme heat. He knew the great lady was still alive. He could feel her in his heart, though by the minute, her presence became weaker like a vanishing mirage.

His goal was to secure the great lady's safety, but to do so, he would have to get everyone to march soon, without proper recovery, condemning most of them to death. For almost a decade, he had led these very same people, nurtured them, guided them, told them when to plant, when to give offerings to the great lady, and now, he was telling them to die.

It felt so wrong. So awful. A knot twisted in his stomach, and he felt sick, wanting to vomit.

”Thinkin' bout' something?”

Ivo looked up between struggling breaths as the farmer that had responded to his speech from before limped to his side. The man was so young. Barely twenty, perhaps, with how there was still some youthful fat on his cheeks. Perhaps there would have been a rosy tint as well, but it was impossible to see through the blood caked on his face.

”Bernard, aren't you, lad?” said Ivo, his words coming out in a wheeze. ”I recognize you. Have those wonderful berries by the eastern walls, aye?”

”That's me alright.” Bernard coughed. A deep cough, the kind that rattled out when there was liquid in the lungs. In this case – blood.

Ivo shook his head. ”You're too young to be here. I thought I made meself clear – only those that left their farms, their ancestral lands, to the next generation were allowed to come.”

”Don't matter no more, does it? I'm here now, and it's not like you can kick me out.”

Ivo sighed. ”I suppose so.”

Bernard made a disgusted face. ”And I wasn't about to sit on my arse while the demons made a mess of our lands. Those primal runes them Lakelies carved onto our walls are mighty impressive, but even an illiterate fool like me can tell it won't do no good against demons for more than a few days. Better to go out fightin' than getting hunted down in that cramped little city.”

Ivo nodded, but he hardly listened, instead focusing on the battered and bloodied bodies before him. He had so little energy. His eyes felt heavy. His arms even heavier. He wondered if he could even stand up again. In the face of crippling mortality, doubt began to flower. If he was this weak, what right did he have to bring all his brothers and sisters out to a death march?

”Come on, old man, what's on yer mind?” said Bernard.

”Am I an old man already?” Ivo let out a weak laugh. ”Perhaps so. Only a senile fool would have thought this a good idea.”

”This ain't a good look for you.” Bernard lightly punched Ivo's shoulder. ”Yer our high priest. Know more about Druidry than all of us combined. Morrigan herself might've fancied you for one of her roots.”

”If only I wasn't so ugly, eh?” said Ivo, his smile baring chipped and crooked teeth.

”Heh, the great lady's just picky is what I say. You got a lovin' wife, too, so you got no room to complain.” Bernard extended a shaking hand to Ivo's shoulder and grasped it with a tight grip. But even as tight as the young man wanted it to be, Ivo could almost feel the energy just leaking out of the bloodied boy.

”All of us are here cause' we're ready to die. Some of us are willin' to die for our great lady, others for their land, others like me cause' we wanna' return to the dirt on our own terms. But in the end, it's all the same – we're ready to die.

But y'know, we wouldn't feel that way weren't it for you. High priest, you've led our harvests, healed our sick, and shown us the great lady's will more times than I can count. It's cause' of that that we trust you to make our deaths mean somethin', so what ya wanna do, just do it.”