Resurgence from the Abyss

Rufus opens his eyes. Staring at the refracted light coming from the surface above him. He feels his body heat leave at a much quicker pace than before the encounter of the void. With his renewed vigor, he pulls both of his arms back. His arms press against the floor and push him up. He feels his death breathing ever so closer. He fights through the water, forcing himself up the dark aqua, a little at a time. His waves become more nimble as they glide faster through the water. He feels his soul slipping away from the living world with every second.

Just when he thinks he is surely going to die, the tips of his fingers rise above the calm hell. With this new hope, he shoots up with the rest of his strength, pulling his head and half of his torso out of the water. As soon as he is exposed to the air breezing past him, his lungs shrink as much as possible, pushing out as much water as they can. Gushes of the mix, water and vomit, spew out of his mouth. This release of water was so violent that a portion of it even came out of his nose. After a few moments of pure regurgitation, it stops. He trembles fiercely as desperate gasps for air fill him slightly. Not a moment of relaxing before the next round of convulsing, forcing the contents of his insides. After a few minutes of this process repeating, he manages to swim roughly a small street distance to the sandy shore. There, he crawled onto the ground, his legs, and hands pushing his torso from meeting the sand. He gasped some more, even a few hiccups, and he still kept shaking. Streams of water, vomit, and mucus slowly flow from both his mouth and nostrils. The worst feeling is the burning of puke in his nose and throat, like he had drank a vat of acid.

After many minutes, he manages to calm down enough to sit down, however he makes sure to sit down far away from where he had vomited. He takes deep breaths, calming himself more and more. Water drips from his soaked hair, which is now free from the bun he had it in earlier. The tip of his hair reaches down to the middle of his waist. Rufus runs his fingers down the strands of hair, smoothing and detangling it. After brushing his hair with his hand, he wipes the damp off of his face.

Rufus' feet tremble slightly as he stands, however he manages to stay standing. He puts his efforts into an awkward step, and then into another awkward step. After the first dozen steps, his muscles regain the ability to walk properly. After leaving some prints into the sand, Rufus arrives at the water he tried so desperately to escape. He squats and looks into the shallow water. The water spat back an image of Rufus, which was his goal. Rufus stairs into his face, examining it. His eyes were still the same color. His cheeks showed hints of one in their early 30s even though they were a decade younger, which was his least favorite attribute of his face. His ears were a bright, poppy red, which wasn't anything too abnormal, as Rufus' seem to do that in stressful situations. His jaw was sharp and attractive, contrary to his cheeks, was his one of his favorite attributes. His teeth seemed decent-not too white and not too yellow. For someone from the place he comes, he had top-tier hygiene. He spots something on his chin that trailed to his upper lip. After some inspecting with his fingers, he concluded that his inherited beard and mustache was coming in. Something that he tried his hardest to get rid of, as it only added to how old he looked.

'When I get back, the second thing I'll do is get the shaving blade.'

Rufus felt mostly satisfied about his appearance. As this new burst of fortitude hadn't changed his looks at all, something that stories and fables often told of. He stands, releasing his neck from the painful posture he usually keeps. He rises on his toes, stretching his arms as high as he can. All of this so he can tighten his muscles in a soothing extension.

After freeing his body, he begins to look around. The row of a few dozen boats were still beached to the shore, so the soldiers couldn't have come over here in time. He steps away from the beach to peek over the hill. Rufus saw bodies in the near distance, some of the Sovereign of Isteria, but most of them of his allies. He was the only one left. Looking past the corpses, blood, and stained grass, he saw fresh footprints. The footprints of the enemies. He slowly steps over in the direction of the footsteps, cautiously moving as to not get caught.

Not too far after and he sees the hundred or so footmen. All setting up camp in that spot, but not just that. A large group of them was setting up cannons, catapults, and other weapons of war. The weapons were being set in a line across the edge of the shore. His allies have died not too far from the corner of the shore. He looks across the large body of water to see a massive stretch of familiar walls. The huge kingdom of Meyler, with houses and farm land that stretched far beyond than the horizon allowed you to see. A light bulb goes off in Rufus' head, remembering why he even came to this land. They knew of what seemed to be a small attack from the kingdom's weak point. They thought some common foot soldiers would be enough, but they were severely wrong. None of us knew of any martial artists with the small army. Even if they were the weakest kind of unit of martial artists, just a few of them were enough to overwhelm and slaughter nearly all of our men. Something else unexpected were the weapons too, there was at least 10 times the estimated amount. An over-glance like this would surely lead to the doom of the kingdom.

'But how? The kingdom is usually so cautious, it would have never glanced at such a concern like this!'

As Rufus pondered on how this mistake was made, his foot slips on the grass. Rufus only fell a little, however, the ground pushed the copper dagger that was still logged inside him a little further. He had left the dagger inside because he was taught that when stabbed, you typically want to leave the blade in so the bleeding won't be as severe. But as the sank ever so deeper inside his waist, not only did he feel an immense pain shoot through him, but his own warm blood had spat out. This stained his uniform more, as well as the grass beneath him. He grunts as quietly as he can so that no one will hear.

To Rufus' dismay, his trouble of releasing his pain through a quiet tone was in vain. An audible gasp could be heard behind Rufus. Worried and shocked, Rufus instantly looked back. A simple stand-alone soldier stares at him from a very near distance, carrying short, dry logs of wood in his combined arms. Rufus reacted swiftly, reaching for his blade. Something Rufus had not expected, however, was that his hands would grip nothing but the empty space where his sword was usually. He now had lost his weapon, the one thing a soldier is never supposed to do.

'How could I be so stupid!?'

The soldier drops the wood he carried and reaches to draw his blade, however Rufus reacts quick before anybody else can be alerted. Pulling out the dagger that stabbed into his waist, Rufus speeds with agility that surprised himself. Before the tip of the man's blade could leave it's sheathe, the copper dagger had impaled his neck. The man smelled of wood dust, he most likely was tasked with collecting fire wood.

"Please. . . Spare me. . . My sister will. . ."

The man pleads with Rufus, but his voice is filled with pauses as he struggles to breathe. Rufus tried to think of something else, but he felt the weak grip from the soldier on the hand that holds the dagger. Disturbing gurgles fill the air as he chokes on his own blood. Some of that same blood even drains from the sides of his lips. The man becomes abnormally pale before his hands eventually fall and his, now corpse, body becomes limp.

Any normal person would be deeply shaken by a similar experience if not traumatized, however Rufus is desensitized to this, from his military training. Even with that, however, Rufus still receives a slight shiver down his spine after the man mentions his sister. Rufus quickly shakes this feeling off, since it isn't anything much new. He retracts his now new weapon from the man's neck. Letting the corpse fall to the ground without a second thought.

'I don't know this man, and he doesn't know me. I have no reason to feel remorse about his death when he would have committed the same action as me if he were in my shoes.'

Rufus recited his beliefs in his head as begins to put pressure on his, now open, wound from using the dagger. He could no longer just put the dagger back in, that would cause more damage. The only thing he could now do is stop the bleeding and patch it up temporarily. With this new short goal in mind, he takes his bloodied uniform off and ripping it into pieces. He keeps his soldier badge, however, because he would need it for future identification. Once the rough cotton uniform was into many strips of cloth, he thought for a moment before deciding to stop the bleeding through unconventional ways.

He balled a few strips of cloth together before shoving it into his wound as quickly, yet steady, as he can. This was painful enough to make his whole body tense, but he just needed to finish it quickly and the pain would mostly subside. Rufus wanted to scream in agony, but he held the instinct in deep. Instead, he turned his pain into gritting his teeth. After the balled cloth strips were inside his wound, they absorbed a good bit of blood and turned out to stop nearly all bleeding. After that, he used the last bit of cloth to wrap around the wound like a bandage.

He felt a bit uncomfortable without his top clothing, exposing his body to the slight chill of the air. Rufus looked down at his body, seeing the usual rough skin, with the abdomen having muscles and aesthetics to prove his strength and training. It wasn't quite the perfect structure of a man's body, but it was a tough testament to his training.

'I should probably eat more, I am a little thin.'

Rufus' mind wandered to critsizing his body but he shook his head. He didn't have time to worry about that. In that moment he needed to figure out what his next course of action would be and quick. Rufus takes a glance down at the fresh corpse and begins to wonder, just how long will it be until he is reported as missing.