Kadian

The Great Agony

“What in Onile’s  good name?!”  A wiry man came to an abrupt halt, causing the rest of the men behind him to stumble.  Before they could reprimand him, they froze when they saw the beast lying on the ground.  Assuming it to be dead, they sat their own kills down and walked towards it, poking and prodding at it with their weapons.  

“What da hell is this?”

“Looks like a freaky wolf.”

“This is some devil type shit.”

“Isn’t that Omose’s-”

“Look!”

The men rushed to the other side of the beast.  The chief pushed forward (he had insisted in going along despite his injury), followed by his son shortly after.  The latter gasped.

“Is she dead?”

“What happened to her?”

“Kadian took this beast down!”

“Not by herself?!”

“Impossible, no girl is that strong.”

“Ah, but she isn’t just a girl, she is The Savior.”

One of the men raised his finger.  “So this was the danger then!  We’re saved!”  

Chief Mohoso tried to silence the cheering and whooping as Mohassen knelt down to the ground.

“Wait wait wait!”  Daewon  shouted.  “I don’t hear the drums.”

Everyone paused.  “Are the women okay?”

“Let’s go find out!”

“Yes, we need to check on the people immediately.  Mohassen, can you handle that?”  Chief Mohoso motioned to the limp, bloody Kadian.

“Yes, Mighty Chief.”

“Good.  See to it.”  The chief then called to the other men to slow down as he caught up.

Mohassen stared at Kadian a while longer before gingerly picking her up.  He tried to grab her by the least bloody area, but realized there wasn't one.  He slowly carried her back to his tent, as not to disturb her.  Kadian’s breathing seemed non existent, but Mohassen convinced himself that the night air was deceiving him, that he’d hear it once they made it to his tent.

When they arrived, he gently lay her on a mat on the ground.  He quickly  cleaned and dressed her visible wounds before gently lifting the skirt of her dress to see if the blood was her own.  Confused, Mohassen studied the extra fabric underneath the skirt.  There was no visible skin, so he gently pressed on her stomach area to see if any fresh blood would arise.  There was none, so he assumed that she had not been severely injured on the front of her.  There was, however, a large gaping cut on her back.  He couldn’t undo the dress, so he simply grabbed a knife and cut the fabric free.  

He winced at the deepness of the slash.  It would require stitches-something he had not done for awhile.  His memory, however, proved to be enough- the wound was successfully closed in thirty minutes.  

Kadian’s pulse was hardly present when Mohassen had begun, and it was even harder to find after he had finished- she had lost a lot of blood.  He tossed the dress to the side and covered her with a fresh sheet.  

“Kadian?”  He snapped his fingers by her ear.  “Get up.”  It took several more tries before Mohassen was convinced that it was not going to work.  

“You can get up when you want to,” he finally said.  Gauze, astringent, and a variety of tools were scattered across the ground.  Mohassen began to put them away to pass time.  

“I would not have guessed that you could have killed something like that,” he said. “But I believe you did, and I am proud.  That was no easy feat.  I am actually proud of your overall progress.  It’s great.”  He finished packing the first aid bag, set it back in its corner, and washed his hands in a clean basket of water.

“They may not believe that you did it.  I didn’t  want to believe it myself, but I know you did. And once they know you did, all of the great things anyone else ever did will seem little.”  His hands were beginning to wrinkle from the soapy water.

“They spoke of me in the same manner that they will soon begin to speak of you.  I was the great one, the one who was up and coming. I thought I learned fast, until I met you. We didn’t believe in the Savior tales then, but if we did, they would’ve said it was me.  But things have changed, and no one will think of me that way when you wake up.”  He briskly dried his hands before turning to look at Kadian.  

“But that does not matter, because at least you would be awake.  I know they talk about you, and doubt you, but some of the people here really appreciate you.  They can talk all they want, but nothing this exciting has happened in years before you showed up.  And I know they are going to be devastated if you don’t wake up soon.”  He knelt down besides Kadian.  Her normally warm face looked ashen and battered.  He winced before gently shaking her.  

“Kadian, I’ve seen worst wounds on conscious men.  Wake up.”  A clap of the hands still did not stir her.  He gently patted the least bruised side of her face- it did nothing but open her mouth, which he quickly pushed closed.  

Mohassen’s heart began to pound in his ears when he still couldn’t feel a pulse on Kadian.  Her wrist, neck, temple- it simply wasn't there.  He blamed this on his imagination, and hoped it was nothing more than that.  The thought that it could be anything other than that invoked a panic in him.  

“Kadian get up!  You know how wrong it would be if you didn’t?!”  He began to shake her.  “Please don’t do this to us, not after everything.  Please.”   

He shook her a little harder before shouting to himself more than her- “This isn’t a game!”  Defeated, he slumped down beside her.  “And it's funny, this is the only time I wished you were playing.”  

Mohassen made no attempt to hold back his sobs.  His body began to shake when he tried to drape his arm over her stomach.  When he finally managed to, he was genuinely frightened not to feel her presence.  Life existed not just in a body, but all around.  And yet, Mohassen was in the same room with her, with his arm around her, and he couldn’t feel everything that made her...herself.  Kadian was dead.

Mohassen snatched his hand from her body and curled up into a ball, blubbering and crying like a child.  Never again would she smile, or laugh at something so trivial.  She would never again complain about the staff, or the villagers not liking her, or being tired.  She would never hurt or exert herself in The Patch, she would never again improve in leaps and bounds without fully realizing it.  He would never see her wandering around in her green clothes, or walking to the hotel, or to Elder Zee’s hut.  She wouldn’t be walking anywhere now- but instead lying, lying lifelessly in a display.  This was her last day to ever be physically close to anyone, and she wasn't spending it with her own family, but with him.  And she wasn’t even alive to be disappointed about it.  

The weight of these thoughts finally proved to be too much for Mohassen, putting him to sleep.