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64.1% Scions of Gaea / Chapter 50: Caravan, Pt 2

Chapter 50: Caravan, Pt 2

The township caravan is well on its way along the northward road, long before sun fully sets and night falls. Though you're all going at a rather slow pace, far slower than you're used to. But it's understandable. Most in the township are older folks. Or perhaps a different way to look at it is that you're the youngest person here.

Although the townsfolk are hardy and tough, the road is going to be a long one, and they all need a bit of time to acclimate to a much faster pace. Few can handle going too fast too soon. Or as Frank told you, 'we can't start out running, or we're gonna end up with a lotta strokes and dead folks.' 

The air surrounding you gets filled with tiny complaints and grumbles and groans as you all walk, both psionically and audibly. Clearly, everyone has some pains to deal with. Frank is right to keep the pace slow for now. 

Plus there's the wounded to tend to as well. Though they'll heal over time, it's best they don't strain themselves too much now. That is if they want to heal at all.

In time, everyone will all pick up the pace; you're sure of it.

Next to you is Frank, trudging forward somewhere close to the lead. Someone else is leading and on point, of course. Someone with better eyesight and hearing and plenty of stamina to stay alert. While Frank could do that, he just wouldn't last very long. Mostly because of his age.

You sense waves of pain wafting off from Frank, so much that you can practically feel your own joints swell and inflame. But unlike the others, he keeps stoically silent, and suffers it all without much of a peep.

You suppose he's trying to be a good example to everyone around him, and it seems to work. Those nearest him grumble less than those further out. 

"So, uh, Frank," you begin. Your voice is low and calm, not like you're trying to hide your conversation, just not trying to be loud. "About where you're all going… I hope you know where you're headed exactly."

"The pathfinders'll suss it out," he replies. "I'm just here to help keep people safe. Smarter folk can actually make sense of the directions we've got."

"You think it's enough?"

"As long as what your dad gave you is right, then we oughta be fine."

"And what if they're not?"

A few hushed whispers rise up around you, from those who are close enough to hear you speak. If they weren't doubting the path they're on before, they might be now. Thanks to you, of course.

Frank clears his throat and replies, a bit louder than normal. Just enough for his voice to carry further around him. Just enough for many to hear his reply, and hopefully stamp out any fears or doubts lingering in their minds.

Maybe not completely, but enough to keep them in control.

"If they're not, then we gotta make sure to ask people all along the way," he replies. "Anyone we run into, we talk about it. Ask 'em what they know where that place is. The more we run into, the more people we ask, the better idea we'll get. So don't worry too much about that. We'll get there."

Frank pauses for a moment, happy with his reply. Or rather, happy that his reply satisfies most around you. You can just feel whatever tensions lift as a result.

"And I'm sure your dad and his people would've done the same," he adds a few moments later, perhaps on realizing where your deeper worries possibly lie. "When I see him, I'll let him know you're doing just fine."

You nod your head slowly, trusting that Frank is right. He's been through quite a great deal, and you don't doubt his instincts. 

You can't quite place that much trust in your dad, though. He's more of a paranoid prepper as compared to Frank being salt-of-the-earth. There's a difference. Still, both of them have been able to get through everything thus far, so neither can be better than the other. Right?

You nod again, this time with a bit more acceptance of the unknown ahead of you. 

"You oughta go check on Nance," Frank says as you absorb some new lessons. "Things are good up front anyway, prob'ly won't need you up here much."

"If you do, just holler," you tell him. 

Then you walk over to the side and allow the rest of the caravan to pass by you. Being the only other heavily armed team, Nance and her men travel closer to the rear of the caravan. You nod and wave and greet the townsfolk as they pass, before finally joining up with Nance. You greet each other jovially, and you sense a great deal of tension lift away from her team.

It seems they're worried about what might be out there, and simply having you around makes them feel safer. It's an odd feeling to get that sentiment from strong, capable, heavily armed people. You suppose that's validation you're feeling, and it's warm and welcoming and somewhat uncomfortable for you.

You simply don't feel it very often, and don't know what to do with it. So you push it away to deal with later.

"Doing alright?" you ask Nance and her team. They all respond with moderate enthusiasm. They tell about a few of their joints and the pain surrounding them, but they're otherwise doing their best to stay alert. Of course, they can't help but express their anxiety, too - it's the dead of night and none can see past the trees flanking both sides of the road.

Which is understandable. People have always feared the dark unknown, and of whatever might be lurking just beyond. It's perhaps one of the most fundamental fears that we've all ever shared.

You sense Nance straining slightly with her powers out of that anxiety. And you find that the way she's using them seems to fatigue her mind faster than normal. 

She gathers up the energies of Cognition, then channels them as she activates her Foresight. Considering how much she's using and how well she's shaped it, you guess that the both of you are on relatively even footing. You probably have an edge on her, but you're otherwise Foresight besties.

And as far as you can sense, she has few other powers she can manifest. If you were to enumerate her abilities, you'd rate her a Novice. A High one at least, but still a Novice.

"You oughta try using your Scan more," you advise her. "It'll be a lot easier to figure out if something's coming with that. I mean, you can only see a few seconds ahead of you, right? And they aren't always accurate, so…"

"Oh! Like you were doing back at…" Nance says suddenly, then just as suddenly stops.

She's about to fling her thumb back behind you, to point at the township. You can sense the word 'home' about to leave her lips, but it's hung at the forefront of her mind and held in stasis. She pulls it back and away slowly until it vanishes altogether.

A bittersweet feeling comes in and replaces that word instead.

She then hooks her thumb awkwardly on one of her pack's shoulder straps, to give them something to do other than point. You feel her swallow her sadness before she speaks again, though the joyful note she began with is muted and shallow.

"Well, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, true, I was Scanning a whole lot during the fight," you reply. "Had to get a sense of where everyone was, where you were all fighting from, and who you were all fighting against. Doing that helps me figure out if anyone's running or pushing or flanking or sneaking, whatever. Well, most of the time anyway."

"Why not always?"

"I used to think always, but then Lisa came along and I realized that if someone's got a powerful enough Cloak, they can hide from your Scan outright. Maybe not more powerful… but at least more experienced at the power, if that makes sense."

"Experienced?"

"Yeah, getting to know the ins and outs of your powers more and more. Just getting better at using it, more efficient with your psionic reserves. They're skills and tools as well as powers, and have a depth that can be studied and refined. At least, as far as I can tell."

Nance nods as she soaks up everything you're telling her. Which makes sense considering she's a schoolteacher. Or used to be, anyway. Her mind's open to possibilities, which makes all this easier. 

"So, uh, Frank says you're a middleschool teacher?" you ask.

She nods at you with a smile.

"Yeah, way back when," she replies wistfully. "Was a good life, a shame it went away. But hey, things change right? Guess I'm this now and that's fine."

"In a way you're still at the head of a class," you say. 

"Yeah, in a way."

"Uh, in any case, I'm asking 'coz I've never taught anyone before, so I'm hoping you could give me some pointers while I try to teach you what I know about psionics. "

"Ooh, now that's an idea! Um. I suppose the first thing I suggest is some kind of an example, maybe? Or what about a demonstration?! That would be real helpful. I mean, I kind of know how your energy feels, but I don't exactly know how you shape it."

"I get it - you need to sense me doing a power up close so you can study it. I can definitely do that. In fact, I'll do you one better."

You inject a little extra power into your Network and extend an invite to Nance, who happily accepts. Waves of awe pour outwards as the sensations of the shared mind space fills her. It's as though she's a tourist in some strange land, and looking at all of the nooks and crannies with great interest. Her awe shifts to surprise when she senses Noir's presence among you.

"You have a cat!" she blurts aloud. The revelation causes some of the townsfolk around you to perk their heads up in surprise. None of them ever saw a cat around you… 

You didn't notice me the first time we were in a Network? Noir transmits telepathically.

"And she talks! I-I mean she's a Telepath like us! That's… I didn't even think that was possible!"

A few murmurs rise up around you. Clearly news of a psionic cat has gotten plenty of tongues wagging.

Seriously, I was there the whole time. I even added my own energy to bolster our collective defense! Jeez!

Take it easy, you transmit. Nance had a lot on her mind at the time. Anyway, welcome to the Network, Nance. 

Sorry for teasing you, Nance. Glad to meet'cha. I'm Noir.

"It-it's alright. Just took me for a spin when I saw you, is all."

I can see why talking to a Telepathic cat would get you out of sorts.

"It's the sassiness, too. Quite a heaping of it… Plus the whole party line thing on top of it all."

"The hell's a party line?" you ask.

"Oh, it's an old landline phone thing. Like back when I was just a kid the houses on my block shared a single phone line. So if someone was using it, we couldn't. Or, we could join it. Sometimes me and the other kids picked it up and just talked for an afternoon."

"Yeah… I guess it's a bit like that."

Although the Network is modeled more on a computer network, or at least your idea of it, you suppose that a telephone network also fits. They're basically iterations of a similar communications theory, one that binds people together irrespective of distance.

"Say, where's Noir?" Nance asks. "I can sense you right here, I mean physically, but also through the Network, which is kinda weird. But I don't sense your cat. How come? Is that this Cloak thing you were talking about?"

"It is a bit, yeah," you reply. "She'd normally be totally 'visible' to us in the Network, but I asked her to Cloak up a bit. Just enough to hide herself from you. But if you do a big enough Scan, you should be able to find her. Here, follow after me."

You gather up your energies slowly and form them into those of a Scan. You pulse outward in a relatively small area, about two dozen feet in all directions. It sweeps across the traveling townsfolk, pinging each of them as it goes.

Then it goes beyond all of you down the road and out to the woods at your sides. Out there you sense the various minds and emotions of various nocturnal creatures - mice and opossums and whatnot. And of course you sense Noir, who is out ahead of you, just at the very edge of your Scan's range.

And since Nance is in the Network, she experiences everything you've done almost viscerally. Not just how you've channeled your Scan, but the direct results of it as well. 

"That's wild," she mutters in awe, her eyes wide.

"Wanna give it a shot?" you ask.

"I doubt I'm gonna sense Noir. Obviously her Cloak's gonna be way better than whatever Scan I can do, since experience separates us."

"Oh you're definitely not gonna sense her, yeah. But you won't get better if you don't practice. Like, what did you tell your students to practice every day?"

"Penmanship, mostly."

"Think of it like that, but for Scan instead."

Nance nods, then focuses her mind as best she can. She calls up her energies easily enough, but when she attempts to shape them and focus them into Scan, it becomes clumsy and unwieldy. It takes her some time, but she's able to vaguely form a Scan and pulse outward with it.

With it comes the flashes of thoughts and emotions from the townsfolk surrounding the both of you, perhaps a dozen or so. They're faint, but at least they're distinct. Nance seems to be as good with Scan as you were when you first started, so you take that as a good sign.

You sense her parsing all the psionic information she's received from the Scan, and it seems to leave her mind in awe. Just having that level of heightened awareness causes her to be impressed, and not just with herself, but in the connectedness of it all.

She quickly goes into another Scan and pulses outward one more time. This time she does so with a slightly wider range, and it's a little faster to boot. It seems to you that she's studying the energies of it, along with her own process. Like she's double checking her own work and making small improvements.

It feels somewhat meticulous to you, as though she's sifting through the power itself, dissecting it.

Which makes sense, considering that she's a teacher. Being one clearly makes her an expert pupil. Well, at least it does for Nance, specifically. Not all teachers are made equal. 

Still, what she does is causing her to improve significantly over time. You can't help but take a few notes from her, from how she's doing things. It'll only help make your own self-reflection and power refinement that much more potent.

Nance then pulses outward with a third Scan, this one also slightly more powerful than the last. She once again sifts through all the data she's presented with, in awe.

"That's wild," she says again. You get a feeling it won't be the last.


Chapter 51: Caravan, Pt 3

The township caravan trudges on through long past midnight, passing by a handful of stops and small towns. A part of you is regretful at not being able to loot any place you cross, but another part of you knows to stick with the townsfolk as much as possible. You simply never know what you all might run into.

You do your best to keep aware, while also instructing Nance along the way. It's not too tough with Noir taking point.

Up above you is the pale yellow moon in all its weak, sickly glory. Thankfully it's bright enough to shed some light, though you see some dark clouds encroaching its periphery. 

You sense it might rain soon.

That'll certainly make your trek harder, though it's best if they experience some rainfall sooner rather than later. Better they learn how to travel in a storm now, while they're still getting acclimated to life on the road in the first place. There's going to be many more storms down the road for them to deal with, that's for sure.

You glance over at Nance and note that she's down to about a quarter of her psionic energies. She has been spending it Scanning left and right, with the occasional Foresight interspersed in every hour or so. Basically, she's practicing diligently. Probably something you could do more of.

Take it easy, you transmit to her. You wanna pace yourself a bit, especially while we're on the road. Wanna leave yourself enough energy to deal with anything that might pop up. I personally try to only use up about a quarter of my max each day. So maybe you could do something similar.

Oh my, you're right, she replies Telepathically. Guess I got a bit carried away with it and all. Hope nothing comes our way now, 'coz I'd be up a creek…

Well honestly, using up your energies as much as you can also helps. I feel like doing that trains my mind to hold more energy in the first place, if you know what I mean. The times I've emptied myself out, I've always had a larger pool afterwards. Like I instinctively grew it to prevent emptying out in the future.

Like working out. The more you do them pushups, the stronger you get.

Like that, yeah. Anyway, all I'm saying is you oughta keep an eye out on how much energy you've got at all times. If you end up running out… well, just do whatever it takes not to run out.

Nance immediately draws back whatever energy she's holding and cancels a Scan already in process. She then takes a deep breath in as though to reset herself, but the mental fatigue she feels barely budges. Her physical body is also pretty worn at this point, and she slump forward slightly as a result. 

You all have been walking for many hours now without much of a break, and can feel the townsfolk's weariness in the air. It feels thick, though not quite overbearing. And from the way the sky looks, with a very slight red tint, it seems like dawn isn't far away. 

Up ahead, you see Frank and his team turn down a worn pathway through the trees, then beckon the rest of the caravan to follow. It's slow going, considering that the pathway is just dirt. And although it's wide enough for the horses and carts to get through, it's only just so. Everyone has to go a little bit slower than normal to get through it.

It's otherwise an easy trek despite the darkness all around. It takes only a half hour of trudging on that dirt path until you come to an overgrown clearing in the middle of the forest. The clearing itself is rather small, certainly not large enough for everyone to camp out in it. 

Butted up against the far end of the small clearing is what looks to be a hunting shack, which is where Frank and a few others have gathered up. They direct people over to the edges of the clearing itself, and tell them to set up their tents just inside the forest. 

They also direct the caravan's protectors, such as Nance and her team, to camp a little bit further out west, to act as a kind of protective buffer. Frank and his team will camp out further east to balance it out. Which leaves the carts and their horses in the clearing itself, which is large enough to hold them. 

Though the horses have to be close to the edge of the forest if they want any kind of room to rest. There, their drives secure them to the nearest trees, then water and feed and brush and clean them. Certainly plenty of pats and scratches and words of encouragement are scattered throughout as well.

While everyone sets up their hammocks and tents, you head over to the small shack. The thing is very small, made of wooden planks, and perhaps decades old. The wood itself is more gray than brown, though thankfully none of it is rotten. 

Along a wall outside it are a couple of wooden racks, which you presume to be tanning and meat drying racks. There's nothing in them for now to give a hint to their true purpose, sadly. But a quick flip through your bushcrafting book confirms that those are exactly what they are.

There's a pile of chopped wood at the corner of the cabin, just to the right of the door leading in. Hanging on the exterior out front are a few empty leather bags, water bladders, a handful of spears and a couple of bows. 

All of them look well-worn, hand-made, and also untouched. It's as though they've been hanging there for years, if not decades. They're probably more decoration now than actual tools.

The inside of the shack itself is rather cozy, if a bit musty. There's a small wooden table with a chair in one corner with one of Frank's team seated on it. Another is sitting on the rickety wooden bed, resting up. He has since loosened his straps and let his pack flop on the bed behind him. He seems to stare a hole into the wall as he catches his breath. Clearly, the man is exhausted. 

Frank himself is up over by the old wood stove in the corner to your left, mixing up some kind of stew in a large pot. There's a plate with all kinds of ingredients on a small prep table next to him, cuts of beef, fresh veggies, that sort of thing. There's a second pot nearby half-filled with broth, but sadly there's no place on the stove for it.

Another one in his team walks up to him and says, "Lemme take care of that," to which Frank obliges. He steps back and hands over his ladle without a fuss. When he sees you, he steps over.

"I don't think they like my cooking," he says jokingly. 

"We never did," says the one sitting on the bed. "But we appreciate it anyway. Get some rest, we'll take care of the grub."

Frank nods, thanks his team, and the two of you head out.

The smell of the cooking stew follows you, which causes your stomach to grumble slightly. But it's far from ready, so you instead walk out to the clearing to get away from the scent if you can. No good getting your appetite all worked up right now.

Frank follows along with you, though he goes to check the welding on the hitching on each of the carts. He inspects them rather carefully, mostly with his fingers as it's still relatively dark out. He seems to be satisfied with what he finds.

"You figured out your sleeping spot yet?" he asks.

It strikes you that you haven't thought of it yet - your mind has been so focused on Nance and her progress. As well as how the rest of the caravan is coping, mentally. It's an odd feeling, putting others before yourself. You wonder if your psionic powers have anything to do with your rising empathy.

Maybe it just took one bad loss to realize you had one all along. All you had to do was stop ignoring it.

In any case, you like how it feels. Even though it's somewhat uncomfortable and unfamiliar, you resolve to try to do this more often. 

"Maybe over there," you say after a brief Scan. "Plenty of space south for me and my cat to rest up at."

"You've a cat?" Frank asks, surprise etched in his voice.

"Yeah, she's patrolling over on the north side right now."

He nods, but slowly for a second, as though he's carefully absorbing the word 'patrolling'. 

"Probably hunting, too," you add. 

"Alright, well," Frank says after a moment. "Any case, you'd better start getting set up now before it starts coming down."

He points upwards at the darkening clouds which are now mostly covering the brightening dawn sky. 

You take his advice and head straight towards the area you've scouted out for yourself. Like the rest of the campsites, it's out in the woods itself. A bit further out, too, to align with the caravan's defensive perimeter.

You take a spot at the southeast, pointed towards the direction you've all come from. Although there's quite a lot of space here like you said, you're mostly concerned about anything that might be following you. 

It's best if you face whatever might be there first. 

You end up choosing a rocky outcropping to set up your camp at. It looks ideal as a defensive position towards the south, while still being able to see everything that's happening at the rest of the camp northwards.

The first thing you do is set down all your gear, then flip open your bushcraft guide and look at whatever it says about creating a sleeping area. 

The guide has a handful of beds to create, but you choose the one that looks as though it's something you could do. There's basically two thin and long logs parallel to each other, and has shorter sticks running perpendicular along the length. Kinda like slats on a bed frame.

On top of it all is a layer of sticks, dry leaves, then clumps of soft moss. You could put your sleeping bag on top of that to make something incredibly comfortable.

You lighten up your load as much as you can, but quickly realize that you need a hatchet to chop down said wood. You distinctly recall thinking about buying one, but putting it off until later. Thanks to the attack and all the other things that have happened since, you've never gotten a chance to go get said hatchet.

Of course, it would be easy to borrow a hatchet from someone in the caravan - they likely have plenty to spare. But you do have your Telekinesis to practice, and could use that to chop down trees instead. You've still got plenty of energy left in the tank, after all.

How hard could it be, right?

You head over to a small cluster of short and thin trees, pick out a handful that's about the same width, then begin to chop the first down. Or at least, you try to.

Your energies mass around you as you channel them into your Telekinesis. Though you've gotten better over time, you're still nowhere near as good as Kaja was. But you hope that by being diligent about it, you'll eventually get there.

Though you consider picking up a rock and chipping it against another to create a sharp edge, you instead take a cue from Noir. You shape the Telekinetic energy itself into a sharp edge, much like an actual axe head.

You then swing that Telekinetic axe into the first tree, about a third of a meter up. It makes a truly satisfying THOK sound on impact, which also causes the tree to vibrate from the hit. More than that, you find that your Telekinetic axe has cut into the wood some. Seeing that brings you some joy.

It takes another half dozen swings before you're able to fell the tree, however. You simply can't seem to push your TK axe fast enough or hard enough to truly bite into the wood. Still, this will do. 

As advised by your bushcraft guide, you pick up the felled tree and strip off its thin branches with your survival knife. It takes you a bit of effort to accomplish this, as it's nothing like you've ever done before. The first few attempts result in your knife binding up in the wood and stopping short. A few other times, you gouge too deeply and weaken the wood accidentally. But by the time you're done, you're able to whip your blade quickly and take off whatever branches are left with ease.

You do this a handful more times so you have enough wood for your slats, then chop them up so they're all about the same length. Then you find two larger trees to make up your bed's frame and chop those down as well. Since these are quite a bit thicker, it takes you much longer to do. You find your mind drifting a little, even as you hack away at the trees.

And if your psyche could sweat from this level of manual labor, it would. Swinging an axe is certainly laborious, monotonous work, but somehow also deeply satisfying.

In the end, you have what you need and transport them bundle by bundle over to your campsite. There, you set up your bed frame butted up against the outcropping, then lay down your slats over top. You then place smaller sticks loosely on top of the slats, to make for a kind of springy underlayer. Then you go hunting for leaves and moss to make your bedding. That part doesn't take too long, as there's tons of them all over the forest floor.

Once everything is set, you create four stakes and pound them into the earth at each of the four corners of the bed. Similar to the TK axe, you use your Telekinesis to shape a mallet, and use that to hammer the stakes in.

Once the bed looks more or less done, you start on your lean-to. As before, you use your poncho to make the actual shelter by stretching it flat, but use two similarly-sized sticks to hold it up at an angle. You place it over the bed itself, giving you plenty of shelter. Though you shouldn't have to worry about the sun too much, as the forest's canopy should shield most of it from you.

Still, you prefer things to be cozier than it needs to be.

Now that you're done, you find yourself sweating profusely from the effort. You're even panting a bit out of exertion. It has taken physical and psionic effort, but it feels good. Your mind and body feel similarly tired, and having a nice place to sleep feels like a reward. 

You take a quick break to appraise your handiwork thus far… and you're not exactly impressed with what you've done.

The bed is serviceable enough, without a doubt. But it all looks a bit shabby at the edges. Your cuts of wood aren't the most even, your notches aren't all aligned, and your beddings looks a bit lumpy in some sections. 

While you're fixing up what you can to make your bed just a little bit better, you hear the patter of rain strike your poncho shelter. The few drops turn to dozens after a few seconds, and when those double you take the rest of your things and stuff them under the shelter, somewhere at the foot of your bed.

You then crawl in feet-first through the only opening left, and settle in as you listen to the rain drumming your poncho. The smells of the forest rises up as it all becomes damp, filling your nose with an indescribable scent. You feel soothed from deep within, and whatever weariness you feel in mind and body seem to dissipate away.

As a result, you fall fast asleep.


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