Chapter 19: August Awakens
Chapter 19: August Awakens
Year 0002, III Month: The Imperium
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The Days After The Incident: Betty Snow (I)
Three days had passed since the incident. August remained unconscious, his breathing shallow but steady as he lay on the bed, his body wrapped in makeshift bandages filled with medicinal herbs.
To keep herself busy and her mind from wandering to dark places, Gel tended to the garden, carefully harvesting the ripened vegetables and fruits that August had taught her to cultivate. The soil felt cool between her fingers as she worked, a gentle reminder that life continued despite everything. She prepared meals for everyone, using the techniques August had shown her during their time together.
Between her chores, she taught Betty—the only other female beside her and the second youngest of the trio, but a year older than her, their newfound companions—the skills August had passed on to her. The girl was eager to learn, her small hands mimicking Gel's movements with surprising precision.
"Like this?" Betty asked, her brow furrowed in concentration as she carefully pulled weeds from around the vegetable patch.
"Yes, exactly like that," Gel replied with a small smile, one of the few she'd managed since the incident. "You need to get the roots, or they'll just grow back stronger."
Whenever she concluded her work early, Gel would return to August's side. She'd change his bandages, apply fresh herb poultices, and sometimes just sit beside him, watching the rise and fall of his chest, willing him to wake up.
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The Days After The Incident: Erik Rubbard (II)
The day after their strange encounter, Erik stood by the window, his tall frame silhouetted against the morning light. His mind was occupied with thoughts of contribution. These two children who were living in a secluded village had saved them, given them shelter, and he felt the weight of that debt pressing down on him.
Gel approached him, her footsteps light but purposeful on the wooden floor. "Hey, have you ever skinned an animal before?" she asked, breaking into his thoughts.
Erik's eyes darted outside, taking in the carcass of the massive Boarat that lay on the middle of the settlement, just at the edge of the property, then returned to Gel. He hesitated before answering, memories of his father surfacing unexpectedly. "Yes... I was taught by my father," he said, his voice carrying a hint of painful remembrance.
"Good then," Gel nodded, satisfied. "Since August is still sleeping, I'll ask you to skin that Boarat and prepare its meat. We need to dry it out and store it in the root cellar below." She paused, noting his apprehension. "Don't worry, I'll help you with some of the less strength-based processes."
Erik sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging slightly. The task ahead would be long and arduous—the Boarat was massive, its tough hide notoriously difficult to work with. But he knew it was necessary, and perhaps this was his chance to begin repaying their kindness.
"Alright then," he agreed, squaring his shoulders with newfound determination.
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The Days After The Incident: Bren Anglewood (III)
Meanwhile, Gel approached Bren, the youngest of the trio and the boy closer to her in age. His eyes, still carrying the shadows of recent trauma, brightened slightly when she addressed him.
"Bren? I need you to gather some firewood," she instructed. "Just outside the perimeter fence. We need to keep our kindling stock full." Her tone softened as she added a warning, "And don't wander deeper into the forest unless you want to be eaten by predators alive."
"Okay, pretty sister," Bren answered with unexpected joviality, a glimpse of his true personality breaking through the shell of recent horrors.
Gel's expression remained impassive. "No, I'm not your sister, and we're only a couple of months apart in age," she replied coldly, her face a blank mask that revealed nothing of her thoughts.
But Bren seemed unperturbed by her frosty response. He left the house with bouncy steps, visibly happier than he had been since their arrival. Perhaps having a purpose, no matter how small, was helping him heal.
Gel watched him go, wondering about their story. She hadn't asked them yet what had happened—she could only guess. They were probably refugees of war, like so many others in these troubled times. But how they had survived and made it this far remained a mystery.
They still carried the haunted look of those who had witnessed unspeakable things. So she decided to let them be for now, to let them open up gradually or wait until August woke up before asking questions. She might be stubborn and direct at times, but she possessed enough empathy to recognize when wounds were still too fresh to probe.
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August Awakens
"Agghhhh, my head."
August grasped his throbbing skull, the pain pulsating behind his eyes. His entire body felt sore, each movement sending waves of discomfort through his limbs. He slowly pushed himself upright, muscles protesting, and sat on the edge of the bed. For several minutes, he remained motionless, allowing the worst of the dizziness to subside.
Through the window, he could see the darkness and three moons illuminating the night sky—nighttime had fallen. He was back in their house, though his last memory was of the fierce battle with the Commander Rank Boarat. He recalled firing the fatal shot, but the beast had reached him in its final moments. By all rights, he should be dead.
Was this the afterlife? Some kind of heaven?
August inspected his body with cautious fingers. Bandages wrapped around his torso, with what felt like leaves packed inside them. Another bandage encircled his head, which he hadn't noticed when he first touched the tender spot above his temple.
But there were no wounds, at least none that matched the severity of what he remembered. He recalled his ribs being crushed, his internal organs damaged beyond repair. The memory made him nauseous, and he leaned toward the window, emptying the meager contents of his stomach into the darkness below.
When he finally calmed, he surveyed the room properly. Near the hearth, where embers still glowed faintly, several figures lay sleeping. The refugees they had encountered—children really, though they had seen enough to age their souls prematurely. Gel slept among them, all huddled together for warmth and perhaps comfort.
August realized it must be near dawn. The first chirps of morning creatures had begun outside, heralding the new day—the fourth since his encounter with the Boarat, though he didn't know that yet.
Slowly, fighting against the weakness in his limbs and the gnawing emptiness in his stomach, August rose to his feet. He needed food.
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An Unsatiated Hunger
The upgraded root cellar below revealed a bounty of fresh provisions, including newly butchered meat hanging from hooks—evidence of someone's hard work during his unconsciousness. August gathered ingredients, his hands moving with practiced efficiency despite his weakened state.
He started with some of the fresh fruits, each juicy bite sending shivers of pleasure down his spine, a visceral reminder of what it meant to be alive. But his body craved something more substantial.
Back upstairs, moving carefully to avoid disturbing the sleeping figures, August set about preparing a simple meal. The routine of cooking centered him, the familiar motions grounding him in the present moment.
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An Early Morning Surprise
Before long, a pot of hot gruel simmered on the stove, filling the house with its aromatic scent. The simple combination of grains, herbs, and a small amount of dried meat created a fragrance that seemed to permeate every corner of their dwelling.
One by one, the sleepers began to stir, drawn from their dreams by the promise of nourishment. Their drowsy eyes blinked open, scanning the room for the source of the delicious smell until they settled on the figure standing in the kitchen area.
Gel's reaction was instantaneous and explosive. Fully awake in an instant, she leaped to her feet with a cry that filled the room.
"GUS!!"
She ran to him, throwing her arms around him from behind. August braced himself, nearly spilling the steaming gruel as her weight collided with his tender body.
"Ow... ow... ow... Gel, can you, um, release me for now? It still hurts, you know..." he managed through gritted teeth.
She immediately released him, her expression contrite. "I'm sorry... I'm just so happy you're back!" Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, relief and joy mingling on her face.
August set down the bowl of gruel, momentarily at a loss for how to respond to such naked emotion. Finally, he reached out and patted her head gently, the gesture awkward but sincere.
"Thanks... for worrying about me," he said quietly. Then, his stomach growled audibly, and he added with a small smile, "But I'm very, very hungry right now."
He took a seat and began to eat while Gel sat across from him, watching his every movement as if afraid he might vanish if she looked away.
"Welcome back!" she declared, smiling through her tears, the morning light catching the moisture on her cheeks.
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A Recollection of Events
August rested for the remainder of the day, observing as the others went about their assigned tasks, duties that Gel had apparently distributed in his absence. He marveled silently at how she had stepped up, taking charge when circumstances demanded it.
When everyone had completed their work and returned to the house, they gathered around the table for a proper introduction. Each of the newcomers shared their names and a little about themselves, though they carefully avoided mention of what had driven them from their homes.
Finally, August asked the question that had been nagging at him since he regained consciousness.
"So... Can you tell me exactly what happened? I know I'm not supposed to be here right now, alive and talking to you guys..."
One by one, they recounted the events of that day—how Erik and Gel had searched for him after the battle, how they had found him near death beside the slain Boarat. Then came the strangest part: their tale of a mythical beast, of them glowing with a beautiful light being intertwined with each other, and that the beast had appeared as if from nowhere and tended to August's wounds before guiding them all home.
They also detailed the tasks they had undertaken since his injury—the skinning of the Boarat, the gathering of firewood, the tending of the garden.
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August's Third Chance at Life
When they finished, silence fell over the group. August processed their story, his expression thoughtful.
"Hmmm, so that happened, huh? That seemed like a fairytale, to be honest." He smiled faintly. "But I believe you guys, and I hope it was all true, because I'm alive right now."
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions—relief, gratitude, the lingering shadows of recent trauma. It was Gel who finally broke it, her voice tentative but hopeful.
"Since you are back with us now, why don't we have a Welcome Back Celebration for you? It will also serve as a celebration of your victory against the huge Boarat and our first harvest. And we could include the celebration of life for you, Erik, Bren, and Betty for surviving whatever trials you had gone through to get here."
The others nodded their agreement, their eyes fixed on August—their protector, their savior, the man who had saved them from certain death and had given them shelter when they had nothing.
"Okay, okay, I got it," he said, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "Geez, stop looking at me; I'll melt."
And so they celebrated. August although still with a sore body took the lead in cooking, creating dishes that were simple but flavorful. The others helped organize the space, gathering wildflowers for decoration and setting up the table with their modest collection of plates and utensils.
As night fell and the stars appeared one by one in the velvet sky, they sat together around the table, a blooming makeshift family and unexpected camaraderie in the vast wilderness forged in the trials of hardship and survival. They ate, they shared stories—carefully avoiding the darkest memories—and for brief, precious moments, they allowed themselves to hope that better days might lie ahead.
In the warm glow of the hearth, with the sound of cautious laughter filling the room, August looked around at these people who had become his responsibility. He didn't fully understand how he had survived or what mysterious force had intervened on his behalf, but he silently vowed to make the most of this third chance at life
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for tonight, life itself was celebration enough.