Destined for Calamity (zelink)

Chapter 2

The evening sky stretched out before me, casting a soft golden glow on the familiar path leading to my residence. As I neared, a sense of tranquility settled within, only to be disrupted by the ominous figure lurking down the road. My gaze darted behind me, searching for any signs that others had also noticed this unsettling, shadowy presence. A flicker of relief washed over me as the outline unmistakably resembled that of a person. However, as I drew nearer, I observed the person's pronounced limp, with one arm hanging lifelessly by their side. The longer I focused on them, the more distinct their features became. Dressed entirely in black, they wore a dark tunic and hat. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the traveler's face seemed to be the color of charcoal with silver hair covering his face. What truly startled me, though, was the pair of piercing crimson eyes, which bore deeply into my own, reflecting unmistakable pain in their very essence.

Briefly, the thought crossed my mind: should I simply turn around and hastily retreat? There was something about this individual that sent shivers down my spine... yet, he appeared grievously wounded. Uncertain, I cautiously approached him, my mind filled with doubt. Frankly, I had no clue what I was getting myself into. In a matter of seconds, the man abruptly plummeted face-first into the soil, remaining motionless. How could I be certain he wasn't feigning his condition? What if he belonged to the elusive Yiga Clan or represented a newly discovered species of malevolent creatures lurking in the depths? Perhaps he was a predator targeting unsuspecting young women, employing fabricated injuries as a trap.

Regret washed over me as I chastised myself, thinking, 'Wow, I'm such a fool.' Nonetheless, I mustered the courage to cautiously prod the unconscious man and assess the weapons he carried. To my relief, he seemed too deeply entrenched in his state of unconsciousness to take notice of anything around him. My initial pessimism felt unnecessary; he posed no immediate threat to me.

With a sense of urgency, I stood up from my crouched position and bellowed, "HELP!" down the desolate street. "We need a doctor!" I called out desperately. The more time I spent there, the more silence enveloped me. Unfortunately, no one was in proximity, and I couldn't bear to abandon the injured man, fearing he might bleed out. I glanced back at his imposing figure, realizing that I couldn't possibly drag him to the nearest medic in town alone.

An involuntary gasp escaped my lips as I witnessed the traveler's skin undergo a remarkable transformation, shifting from a dark hue to a more natural tan. Curiosity piqued, I leaned closer, using my fingers to brush aside his bangs and reveal his closed eyes. However, my gaze lingered on his now-normal-looking face, and I noticed his hair had also changed from a dull, ashy grey to a light shade of blond. Was he human? I couldn't be certain. Nevertheless, my deep concern for his well-being outweighed any doubts. The haunting look of agony he had given me just before losing consciousness lingered in my mind, propelling me to lift his lifeless body from the ground. Perhaps it was a reckless decision. Maybe he was indeed some kind of monstrous being. Yet, there was something oddly familiar about his face, and I couldn't bear the thought of leaving him to perish. It was clear that his wounds would make survival unlikely without immediate care. While I lacked formal medical expertise, I possessed some knowledge of basic medical care, and my home was stocked with supplies. Straining with all my might, I endeavored to bear as much of his weight as possible.

"This is not going to work," I admitted to myself, acknowledging the physical challenge ahead. Determined to lighten the load, I decided to start by removing the metallic shield fastened to his back, as well as his intricately designed bow. Carefully, I flipped him over and proceeded to unfasten the sheath from his chest. To my surprise, the scabbard was empty, and there was no sight of a sword nearby. Next, I focused on detaching the utility belt from his waist, though my arms quivered under the strain as I slowly tugged the bulky equipment away from his body.

"Alright... I apologize for whatever discomfort this may cause," I uttered, addressing him even though no response came. Grabbing his arm, I exerted all my strength to lift it onto my shoulder, emitting a cry of effort when only half of his weight transferred to my back. He stood much taller than I had anticipated, boasting a medium build and a robust physique. Yet, if only I could manage to shuffle my way toward my dwelling...

It required considerable effort to forcefully kick open the wooden door, though it proved easier than the strenuous task of dragging the lifeless body into my yard. His belongings remained scattered on the street, but I settled to retrieve them later. Taking a moment to steady myself, I maneuvered both him and my own exhausted form into the house and somehow managed to seat him at the kitchen table. Despite my aching muscles and strained back, I forced myself to exit the house and retrieve the abandoned gear from the road, making multiple trips to ensure everything was gathered. I dragged the items behind my house, carefully concealing them amidst stacks of wood and other gardening tools. Finally, as I settled in, I noticed the blond-haired stranger slumped in the chair, the light casting an eerie glow on the bloodstains adorning his tunic. Was it his own blood or someone else's? Suppressing the thought, I distracted myself by carefully hauling him up the stairs and into my bedroom, enduring a few door frame mishaps along the way. Eventually, I managed to position him in a more comfortable manner on my bed, relieved that the difficult task was complete.

As he slumbered, a sense of tranquility washed over his features, yet the memory of his previously charcoal-colored skin lingered in my mind. Nonetheless, I took a brief moment to acknowledge his present normal appearance. Nodding to myself, I decided to carefully examine his wounds. I cautiously removed his shoes and peeled back his sleeves, revealing dark blemishes on his right arm and ankle. However, my attention was immediately drawn to a conspicuous tear on the left side of his tunic, where the crimson stain of blood seeped through the fabric. The visible wounds scattered across his body were proof of his recent engagement in a fierce battle, evident from the numerous cuts on his uniform. With a steady hand, I proceeded to remove the dark fabric covering his upper torso, revealing a set of chainmail and an undershirt, both easily taken off. However, when my gaze fell upon his exposed chest, I instinctively averted my eyes. His skin bore a tapestry of scars and discolorations, likely remains of bruising from harsh blows. Dried blood decorated his chest, yet the most concerning was the fresh laceration on his left side. While it did not appear infected, the risk of infection loomed close at hand. Furthermore, his left arm presented its own set of issues. Contrary to my initial assumption, it wasn't broken, but the muscles in his shoulder seemed severely torn, reduced to tattered remnants.

For the following two hours, I dedicated myself entirely to tending to the injured traveler. His sprained ankle was a straightforward matter to address, and fortunately, the cut on his side did not run too deep. However, the gash in his shoulder presented a gruesome sight. Whoever had engaged in combat with him must have possessed significant strength to penetrate so deeply into the muscle. After meticulously cleaning away the blood, I applied various healing remedies to the wounds, stitching them up with care. The exact nature of his condition remained uncertain to me. It appeared that he had suffered considerable blood loss, but ultimately, my options were limited. Knowing I had no work commitments the next day, I resolved to visit the doctor's office in the morning and request that they pay a visit to my home as soon as possible, seeking professional assistance for the traveler's condition.

After a few hours, I immersed myself in the task of cleansing his tunic, eliminating the traces of blood and grime that clung stubbornly to the fabric. Simultaneously, I diligently prepared a nourishing meal of Sunny Veggie Porridge, aiming to offer him a moment of comfort and relief from his anguish. The heavy aura of Gloom appeared to enshroud his entire being, further solidifying my initial suspicion that he was indeed a creature from the Depths, burdened by the weight of his own desolation that spread through his soul and body.

Summoning all my courage, I finally approached the stranger's room with the meal I had prepared. As I entered, I carefully placed the bowl on the night table beside the bed. The traveler lay motionless, so still that it was as if life had abandoned him. With a mix of concern and curiosity, I gently patted his neck, hoping to detect a heartbeat. To my surprise, I couldn't find a pulse, but I observed a faint rise and fall of his breath. Perplexed by this peculiar situation, I decided to stay in the room and keep a watchful eye on him. Weary from the events of the night, I settled into a chair at the foot of the bed, unknowingly succumbing to exhaustion as I gradually drifted into a deep slumber.