Chapter 32: Roads & Rewards (Part 1)
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Announcement
Pre-chapter note: Hey y'all! Been a long time since my previous chapter of Illegal Alien, a lot has happened in that time which I wrote about in my December 25th Author's Note/Update including my plans for the future.

In addition to that, I finally fell sick with covid just hours after writing and posting that update and had to spent almost a fortnight recovering and then a bit longer again to recover from the stress, exhaustion and brain fog.
 
You don't know how happy I've been writing again, since Monday when the brain fog finally lifted and my ability to write returned, I have been writing each night.

Chapter 32: Roads & Rewards

The all encompassing black of digital displacement swallowed me with its sensory depriving void before it spat me out again. Right back into CORA. Thankfully this time I didn’t experience the accompanying vertigo of having my spatial orientation suddenly changed. 

Well not changed as much at least.

As the blackness lifted and my sense of my own body returned, I realized why. Just as I had been sitting up in the death dream, I had awoken sitting on the foundation stones of the ruined church with the altar at my back. 

That and Roxi’s shoulder behind mine, her arm snaking out between my own arm and my thigh. The Altar wasn’t quite big enough for the both of us to lean against and given her position under me, she must have respawned maybe a second or less earlier. How did I know it was her shoulder, that was hard to answer and I couldn’t really point to any one thing. Regardless of how or why, I knew it was her. 

A part of me almost wondered how I got here. The, umm, well causality of how I came to be sitting here. Even compared to waking from my first death dream this time’s violent death felt, well… Distant.

That incongruence meant sitting here was like a reminder going, ‘Oh right I'd died.’

Thanks to the, well, what felt like hours I'd spent in May's time-dilated office, my death defending the camp felt more distant, more dulled, than it should. Like it had occurred yesterday and not like five, wow… No really? 20 or so minutes ago according to the game’s real time clock. In a way from my perspective it had occurred yesterday or at least a decent span of hours ago.

In the end, what was really real to me was my perceived time and well that had been a lot longer than the almost twenty minutes that had passed in both real time and game time.

My most recent experience of death was no longer fresh and time heals all wounds, or so they say. At the very least my meeting with May yoinked me from the aftermath of a potentially traumatic death and gave me other things, more important things, to think about instead of dwelling on a death. As unorthodox as my hijacked death dreams were, they worked.

Between my self introspection and Roxi’s comfortable presence behind me, I was tempted to remain sitting where I was and pretend that I was asleep. To just enjoy the restful silence and her soft warmth behind my shoulder.

Fingers slipped between mine to hold my hand and gently squeezed.

My eyelids fluttered open in response, only to be blinded by a torch being waved in my face. Blinking, seconds passed before the white cleared from my vision.

“Hey you, you’re finally awake!” chirped the familiar voice of my tormentor.

Gael. 

It looked like she’d survived past our deaths. Looking her over, I couldn’t find a trace of any of the bleeding flesh wounds or lacerations from when I saw her last during the battle. Well aside from where they had damaged her clothes. 

“You’re looking well Gael,” came Roxi’s voice from almost beside my ear, close enough for her breath to set them both flickering and send a cascade of tremors down my spine that radiated out as shivers. 

Releasing my hand, Roxi’s arm slipped behind my back to wrap around me before she pulled me upright with her as she stood, her other arm pushing down on the altar’s surface for support.

“I figured I might find you both here after your bodies disappeared. You Blessed really suck at staying alive, but I guess it saves you a trip to a priest or priestess for healing.”

I guess that explains her lack of wounds. 

“What happened after we went down? Everything alright?” I asked, stepping out of Roxi’s arms to lean against the sanctum’s wall.

The mercenary chuckled in reply, “I’m not sure how much you saw before you decided to bite an arrow and take a dirt nap, but that neat trick you pulled off scared them shitless. After pissing themselves in fear, most of the fuckers who were still alive ran and kept running, even after that arrow got you.”

Roxi’s gaze jumped over to me and her eyes widened with curiosity even as she gave me an impressed look. Like a beacon flashing morse-code, her gaze was telling me I wasn’t going to get out of explaining later what happened after she died.

“It wasn’t hard cleaning up what was left afterwards. Anyway we did a headcount in the aftermath and the refugees almost all survived. Two died instantly in the initial volley and race for the cover of the church ruins. Three more died out in the open from their wounds from the volley. The rest of the wounded refugees got inside with the rest and were healed. Of our rag tag bunch of former guards and militia members, just three survived,” she sighed.

“Three more than there would have been if we, if you two hadn’t been here,” the catgirl added. “You two dished out a lot of fire and fury to those shitbuckets drawing a lot of attention and aggression off the rest of us. Allowed me to do what I do without being swamped with bodies. Fucking thank the Powers for flashy magic users.”

“So what now?” Roxi asked, interrupting Gael’s monolog before she could build up any more steam.

“Well our new friends have already piled up and prepped tomorrow’s meatbag roast for the morning and now they’re currently saying the last rites and burials for their own fallen. Now as for us, if I could I’d have us on the road as soon as we can pack our shit, but…” she said, drawing out the last word before continuing.

“That won’t be possible,” the merc stated letting her head slump forward in defeat. “Unfortunately none of us can really go anywhere in this terrain until morning. Too much risk of getting hurt or lost trying to navigate through a forest like this at night. Might as well try to rest until sunrise and then get the hell out before the corpse smoke draws even more enemies down on us. That said, I don’t think anyone is going to be able to get much sleep after all of this.”

 

Announcement
Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please leave comments/reviews as they fill us writers with joy! Happy writers write more! Don't forget to click next page and read Chapter 32 part 2.

Illegal Alien is a canon story in QuietValerie's Troubleverse setting. Make sure you read Quietvalerie's Trouble with Horns, her second Troubleverse story Witch of Chains and her other Troubleverse story on Scribblehub Lieforged Gale.

The Troubleverse & Kammiverse have their own discord where you can talk to other readers and the various authors including myself and QuietValerie.

 

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