Chapter Text
The great beast wailed and roared, thrashing about in its death throes after the final strike. It had been a split second reaction from Barristan, blinded by fog, but his riposte had struck the Leviathan in one of its eyes; the only point of true vulnerability. Heaving from the effort of taking blow after blow from its immense claws, the older soldier stumbled back, turning his head to regard his allies…
Or what remained of them.
Dismas’ body lay broken, unmoving, coat and body torn up by sea debris and claw alike. Barristan felt his stomach twist from the sight, but what was worse was the lack of another body. There was no sight of Baldwin, though the leper’s golden mask rested at the edge of the pier.
The soldier’s mind swam at the awful revelation. He had let his troops, no- his friends, down. Again. Whatever triumph he could've felt from the victory over the Leviathan was immediately stamped out by the crushing weight of that failure.
But just before Barristan could give into the spiral of madness, something caught his attention. A spluttering coughing from behind him, of someone spitting up swallowed water. He tore himself away from his grief to turn and see Alhazred alive, but just barely.
The occultist was still standing, though dazed and unsteady on his feet. As quickly and carefully as he could, Barristan stepped over the body of the fallen highwayman to catch Alhazred as he teetered forward. The thin man collapsed into his arms, soaked to the bone but somehow awfully burned. Barristan recalled the way he saw the candle of his focus blaze with raw power as he summoned down a devastating blaze of eldritch flame.
For a few moments, all was still as the crashing waves subsided. Barristan held tightly onto Alhazred’s limp form. He wasn’t dead, but he could tell he was on the precipice, and he would be damned if he let that happen.
Quickly rummaging through his pockets, he found the last jar of burn salve he knew he had. Baldwin had given it to him at the previous inn, sharing with him a piece of wisdom.
“He won’t ask for it, but he’ll need it,” the leper had said, nodding his head ever so slightly to where Alhazred had been sitting. “We’ll need to aid each other if we are to make it through.”
Taking a deep breath, he unscrewed the cap off the burn salve. He could feel his sodden fingers growing cold and numb as he did his best to apply it. His attempts were fumbling, but anything was better than nothing. It was only when he heard a sharp hiss of pain from the other man did Barristan let go of the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in.
Regaining his sense of surroundings, Alhazred flinched away from Barristan’s clumsy attempts to heal. His entire body was aching, and he felt as though he was carrying twice his own weight with the amount of water that had soaked into his clothes.
“That’s enough,” he said, voice trembling a little more than he would like. “I’ll be alright, Barristan. Where is-”
Once he pushed himself out of the larger man’s grasp, the sight behind him stopped his train of thought right in its tracks. There was a moment of silence as he stared in disbelief, but he outwardly composed himself.
“We need to get moving,” Alhazred stated stoically, wheeling away from the sight and beginning to walk away.
“We can’t leave their bodies here.”
Barristan’s protest made Alhazred stop. The pragmatist in him whispered that it didn’t matter right now. This place was still dangerous even with the Leviathan dead, they shouldn’t be wasting time on a funeral at the cost of their own lives.
When he turned, Barristan had already gathered Dismas' body in his arms, his knife, gun and Baldwin’s mask resting on his torn chest. The soldier’s expression was mournful, staring at him almost pleadingly. Alhazred knew that arguing against him would get them nowhere.