How long had she been there? How long had she been in that coma after the operation? What had happened to put her there?
She had survived a few days on the plants she knew to be edible, but it wasn't enough to restore her strength. Yet her awareness of time and space returned, slowly, with questions, and with the need to find the world again, to find Mazé'Yum, to let him examine her. Her arm moved, slowly, at the cost of unimaginable concentration and pain. She could open and close her hand, and slightly bend her forearm. Yet even the smallest piece of bark seemed to weigh as much as a dead animal, slipping from between her fingers that were too weak to hold anything. She would spend hours and days watching her hand bend and unfold, so concentrated on trying to develop this weak movement that she would forget to scream out in pain, if she didn't collapse, exhausted, under the root that served as her shelter.
She needed to get back to civilization, to find help. But where to start? She had nothing but a light tunic, no pact, no dapper, not even a dagger to protect herself. Further on, at the exit of this labyrinth, was this tribe of fyros mercenaries, but she didn't know them well enough not to be suspicious. Oh, and then, she thought, a hominin in such a state can't be sold into slavery. They'd probably detected her presence, too. This could be her chance to get out, taking advantage of a patrol to reach the elusive garden, if they agreed.
She set off very slowly, knowing that she had to be on the lookout for the slightest danger, her teeth clenched so as not to scream out in pain, as each step activated the muscles in her right arm. She now remembered her last conversations with Mazé'Yum, that she had to avoid a return through the Powers at all costs, as even he was unsure of the possible repercussions. He'd said she'd lose her bearings when she woke up, but that much? Something must have gone wrong for her to find herself there, alone. She wasn't the first to survive such an operation, but the scientist had omitted to give her too many details about his previous guinea pigs, apart from the fact that the last ones had woken up alive.
She soon lost herself in thought, putting one foot in front of the other in the middle of the path, which luckily was free of predators. She regained her senses when she saw the tribe, and approached it with the utmost dignity.
- There you are again," said the Fyros guard standing by.
Eeri looked at him incredulously. At least he seemed relaxed, and rather unsurprised to see her there. She stopped in front of him.
- So, are you going to talk to us this time?
- Do... do we know each other?
The guard smiled, his gaze full of pity for her, then beckoned her to follow him.
- Come and sit by the fire, there's some food left.
Eeri didn't hesitate, and took advantage of the still-warm grilled meat, the fresh water and the warmth of the fire. There, another guard told her that a patrol had spotted her a week earlier in the north of the region. She was disoriented and exhausted, circling one of the tall trees. As they approached, she lost consciousness, and they took her with them, carrying her to their tribe. They made her comfortable by the fire. A few minutes later, as they looked around for warm clothes, she simply vanished into thin air. So she hadn't crossed this region alone, a mystery was clearing up. Then she told the little group that had formed around the fire why she was here, starting with the fight with the Flamboyant, the reason her arm was in such a state. Some had heard of this journey, and it was a story that circulated among the Fyros tribes like a legend whose details changed according to the storyteller's whim. Some even said they hadn't come back alive from the trip. Of course they did," she told them, "otherwise how would the story have got here? Fortunately, her explanations were enough for them to agree to escort her and a patrol as close as possible to the Mazé'Yum laboratory the following day, without asking too many questions.
They left her close to the Karavan host of the Jardin Fugace, unable to go much further, as the territory controlled by the Matisagoo began. From there, however, the path was relatively easy, and she reached her goal without difficulty, slipped behind the vines that hid the door, and pushed it open. No one was there. The operating bed was still there, in the middle of the room, a scalpel stuck in the cushion on which she had been operated. Her belongings were there, her armor, her pacts, her jewelry, her badge. Slowly, after a brief grooming, she equipped herself, then settled into the Zoraï's armchair and waited.
She had survived a few days on the plants she knew to be edible, but it wasn't enough to restore her strength. Yet her awareness of time and space returned, slowly, with questions, and with the need to find the world again, to find Mazé'Yum, to let him examine her. Her arm moved, slowly, at the cost of unimaginable concentration and pain. She could open and close her hand, and slightly bend her forearm. Yet even the smallest piece of bark seemed to weigh as much as a dead animal, slipping from between her fingers that were too weak to hold anything. She would spend hours and days watching her hand bend and unfold, so concentrated on trying to develop this weak movement that she would forget to scream out in pain, if she didn't collapse, exhausted, under the root that served as her shelter.
She needed to get back to civilization, to find help. But where to start? She had nothing but a light tunic, no pact, no dapper, not even a dagger to protect herself. Further on, at the exit of this labyrinth, was this tribe of fyros mercenaries, but she didn't know them well enough not to be suspicious. Oh, and then, she thought, a hominin in such a state can't be sold into slavery. They'd probably detected her presence, too. This could be her chance to get out, taking advantage of a patrol to reach the elusive garden, if they agreed.
She set off very slowly, knowing that she had to be on the lookout for the slightest danger, her teeth clenched so as not to scream out in pain, as each step activated the muscles in her right arm. She now remembered her last conversations with Mazé'Yum, that she had to avoid a return through the Powers at all costs, as even he was unsure of the possible repercussions. He'd said she'd lose her bearings when she woke up, but that much? Something must have gone wrong for her to find herself there, alone. She wasn't the first to survive such an operation, but the scientist had omitted to give her too many details about his previous guinea pigs, apart from the fact that the last ones had woken up alive.
She soon lost herself in thought, putting one foot in front of the other in the middle of the path, which luckily was free of predators. She regained her senses when she saw the tribe, and approached it with the utmost dignity.
- There you are again," said the Fyros guard standing by.
Eeri looked at him incredulously. At least he seemed relaxed, and rather unsurprised to see her there. She stopped in front of him.
- So, are you going to talk to us this time?
- Do... do we know each other?
The guard smiled, his gaze full of pity for her, then beckoned her to follow him.
- Come and sit by the fire, there's some food left.
Eeri didn't hesitate, and took advantage of the still-warm grilled meat, the fresh water and the warmth of the fire. There, another guard told her that a patrol had spotted her a week earlier in the north of the region. She was disoriented and exhausted, circling one of the tall trees. As they approached, she lost consciousness, and they took her with them, carrying her to their tribe. They made her comfortable by the fire. A few minutes later, as they looked around for warm clothes, she simply vanished into thin air. So she hadn't crossed this region alone, a mystery was clearing up. Then she told the little group that had formed around the fire why she was here, starting with the fight with the Flamboyant, the reason her arm was in such a state. Some had heard of this journey, and it was a story that circulated among the Fyros tribes like a legend whose details changed according to the storyteller's whim. Some even said they hadn't come back alive from the trip. Of course they did," she told them, "otherwise how would the story have got here? Fortunately, her explanations were enough for them to agree to escort her and a patrol as close as possible to the Mazé'Yum laboratory the following day, without asking too many questions.
They left her close to the Karavan host of the Jardin Fugace, unable to go much further, as the territory controlled by the Matisagoo began. From there, however, the path was relatively easy, and she reached her goal without difficulty, slipped behind the vines that hid the door, and pushed it open. No one was there. The operating bed was still there, in the middle of the room, a scalpel stuck in the cushion on which she had been operated. Her belongings were there, her armor, her pacts, her jewelry, her badge. Slowly, after a brief grooming, she equipped herself, then settled into the Zoraï's armchair and waited.
---
Eeri"Quand on a le nez trop près de la bouteille, on ne voit plus le bar"