Garden Of The Abyss - Chapter 445
Attaching his sheaths back to his belt, he slowly walked around the room as the wood croaked beneath the steps of his boots. Inspecting the yellow-wood drawers, he found nothing of interest as he finally decided to venture out of the room.
In front of the bedroom entrance, veiled by a hanging curtain, he stood in silence for a moment as he listened to the rainfall continue to pour down.
More than the natural smell of the wood-made home, the smell of precipitation meeting with the vibrant foliage outside met his nose.
It’s still raining hard, isn’t it? That means the siege is still going, probably, he thought.
Finally pushing aside the curtain, he stepped into the main section of the abode as he was immediately greeted by a warm, sweet smell that had an uncanny resemblance to cherry jam. It definitely wasn’t the medical tent belonging to the doctor; decorated with the trophy heads of slain beasts on the walls, rugs made out of those beasts’ hide, and the large cushions–it was definitely somebody’s home.
“…Where the…?” He muttered to himself.
“Finally awake, are you?” An unknown voice called to him.
The words coaxed him to swing his gaze towards the source, finding himself looking into a kitchen that was occupied by an orange-furred chimpanzee, dressed in the lavish garments of a noble; tie and all.
“Sorry, but wasn’t I at the Doctor’s place…?” He asked.
The primate spoke without turning, tending to whatever sweet delicacy he was busy baking, “Dr. Kuregura’s establishment became incredibly busy once the siege began. A lot of soldiers wound up injured, and you weren’t in need of care anymore, so I was asked to take you in, for the time being.”
“I see…” He ruffled his snowy locks, “Excuse me for asking, but who are you?”
It was a question that arose from the peculiar state of the house, and the owner; the primate spoke with an eloquence beyond the others he had met, and his attire was completely different.
The orange-haired chimpanzee stopped, looking back at him as he adjusted the circular-rimmed glasses stationed on his nose.
“I am Regibald Carnarian, at your service,” the eloquent chimpanzee introduced himself, “A humble hunter, that’s what I am, if that’s the question you meant to ask.”
“Oh, alright, I see…wait, not really, but whatever,” he scratched his head, “how long was I out for, anyway?”
If the infirmary was overrun with wounded soldiers…it can’t be a good thing, he thought.
Regibald shifted a pot containing fresh, pink liquid as he took in a prolonged inhale before answering, “You’re curious as to the state of the battle against the Stormfallen, aren’t you? Worry not; Goroba’s men have managed to keep them from infiltrating Yon’s walls the past two days.”
“Two days?…”
“It’s not surprising. By the bags under your eyes, I imagine you haven’t had proper rest in a good while,” Regibald said while moving the sweet-smelling, pink liquid into pastries.
After his question was answered, he watched the well-dressed primate finish filling the basket of pastries before lifting it from the wood counter, walking towards the young man before stopping in front of him.
“What’s this?” He asked, looking at the basket.
The aroma greeted his nose pleasantly like a freshly baked pie, straight out of the oven–a scent he long missed.
Regibald placed the handle of the basket in his hand, “It’s for the children of the village. Take it to them, they’re all at the elders’ sanctuary. A siege is certainly not a comforting time; I’m sure they’re all afraid….this is the best I can do.”
“You don’t want to do it yourself?” He asked.
Lifting the basket to get a better look at its contents, Regibald already began to shuffle away. It was difficult to discern the age of the primates, but he could tell by the hunched-over stature of the eloquent man and the way he spoke, he was up there in age.
Regibald grumbled, scoffing quietly, “…I’m a busy man. If you’re up, then get going, already. Besides…the sight of the “champion” will be much better for those kids than one of a forgotten, old man.”
The words of the wizened chimpanzee drifted into melancholy as he stared up at a painting of a snowy land, keeping his back to the young man.
He could tell there was a reason for the hunter’s reluctance to go, so he put on a smile and a nod, “Alright, then. Thanks for taking care of me.”
Showing his gratitude, he bowed his head, though the gesture couldn’t be seen by the painting-spectating chimpanzee as he grumbled again in response.
“Thank me by delivering those pastries while they’re still hot,” Regibald told him.
All he did was smile and nod his head before leaving through the front door, finding himself standing on a balcony of giant leaves that overlooked most of the village.
The bridges were completely empty; no villagers could be seen at all now as only soldiers persisted outside the elders’ sanctuary.
“Woah, we’re pretty high up…this guy must be some sort of big shot, or just an introvert,” he muttered.
Though he stood at a high vantage point, he still couldn’t see over the colossal walls of reinforced dirt that protected the village. Connecting to the main series of bridges that acted as the way of travel throughout the entire village, steep-sloped steps of dirt were formed from the walls, shoddily connected to the wood bridges.
Along the walls, he could see the soldiers; they took turns between resting and shooting arrows down at the goblins below, sometimes tossing rocks off the side of the wall.
The sight made him stop for a moment in silence; many soldiers were wounded, stuck with arrows and daggers, some pelted by fire–agonized screams accompanied the rainfall that struck the dreadful sight.
Every ten seconds or so, an explosion would ring out; crashing against the northern walls as flames hissed in the precipitation, quickly fading out, though leaving a mark each time as the primate soldiers tucked themselves against the barricade.
Though they couldn’t be seen, the Stormfallen’s presence could be heard and felt against the walls, and by the expressions of anguish on the Velren soldiers’ faces.
This is what war looks like. Don’t get it twisted, he thought.
Shaking his head, he regained his focus as he scaled the interconnected bridges between the towering trees, making his way to the gargantuan tree of the elders.
It felt odd for him: carrying the basket of treats as he crossed the empty bridges by himself while the war was fought without him.
Bringing himself through the sanctuary inhabiting the innards of the colossal tree, he found himself completely surrounded by the entirety of the villagers; stationed in the guest rooms and inhabiting the halls, as well.
“Ah, is that…you…champion?” A familiar, low voice called.
Turning to his side, he found the lumbering orangutan at his side, carrying a basket himself that was filled with an assortment of bread and berries.
“Oh, urr, yeah,” He responded with a smile, lifting the basket of pastries he carried, “Regibald wanted me to deliver these to the kids.”
Momo peered at the pastry-packed basket before looking at the young man, beginning to walk through the halls as he ushered him to follow.
“I see. That’s quite…like Regibald,” Momo said.
It was difficult to match the pace of the sloth-like primate who walked as if stuck in slow-motion; he was forced to match the sluggish pace of the large orangutan as they passed through the corridors filled with lingering villagers.
“It is?” He asked.
Momo nodded, “He is…a difficult one. Rather, he…makes it difficult…for himself.”
By the inquisitive look he gave to the orangutan, the elder seemed to garner enough justification to continue speaking, “Regibald used to be…one of the elders. Not only that, he was the executive.”
“Huh?! Really? He’s that much of a big shot?” He asked in surprise.
Momo raised a finger to his lips, silently shushing the young man after he had suddenly raised his voice. It wasn’t because what the elder said was a secret, but because of the resting villagers that occupied the labyrinth of the tree-made sanctuary.
Along the way, he began to pass off pastries to the young ones of the village; earning excited smiles as they gleefully accepted the treats.
After walking around the length of the timber-built halls, he ran through the contents of his pastry basket, having bestowed the sweet treats to the primate children.
“…T…t-thank…ya’,” one of the small chimpanzees said in gratitude.
“No problem! But, if you really want to thank someone, thank Old Man Regibald!” He smiled, patting the kid on the head.
After being jumped on by the various children and experiencing the fuel that such sugar-filled treats supplied to the kids, he returned to Momo with ruffled hair and a sigh after a few minutes.
“They’re pretty energetic, considering the circumstances…” he sighed playfully.
Momo laughed quietly, “They like you. As the champion…your sight alone is a relief for them. I believe…Regibald knew that. Though, knowing him…it was an excuse for him…to avoid coming here.”
Hearing the orangutan’s words, he stopped for a moment after ruffling one of the young gorilla’s hair with playful vigor.
“That’s what I’m wondering,” he looked at Momo, “what’s the deal with Regibald? You said he used to be the elder, but he’s not anymore. Did something bad happen?”
Momo fell silent, fiddling with the collar of his beige shirt as he adjusted the violet fabric that decorated one of the corridor stands.
After a moment, the quiet elder finally spoke, “It was his own choice. Please don’t think…there is bad blood…between us. Regibald made his choice…it was his to make.”
It was obviously something he had little room to speak in, so he just stood there silently as he followed the elder on his way.
“Anyway, champion Ren…you’re awake now, I believe…Rohan wanted to speak to you,” Momo told him.
“Oh, that’s why you were tagging alone? Could’ve told me that sooner,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.
“Apologies…some thoughts just…slip from my mind,” Momo grumbled tiredly.
Following the lumbering orangutan down the halls, he found himself back at the chamber of the five elders, though only one elder awaited inside.