Broken Bodies

Our journey has been a difficult one the past few days.
 
After defeating the shadow creature at the elf-home, we have been using the maps we obtained to travel farther through this great cosmic maze of the Shattered Realms. Each step we take brings us closer to our goal, and threatens to hurl us far astray.
 
Krisa’s wounds went foul following our battle. Some sickness traveled on that monster’s claws. The long, bloody gashes would not close, and leaked a murky pus. She would not last long. I was amazed she still stood in the first place, much less walked on her own two legs. On top of, or perhaps simply exacerbated by her wounds, her fading in and out had become more regular and more complete; time was slipping through our fingers.
 
My skill in medicine is lacking—my aptitude lies in repairing machines, not people. I have treated my own wounds before, though. In Krisa’s case, I thought that I might perhaps apply some of my usual treatment on a broader scale.
 
I fashioned a small device for measuring out minute portions of my medicine which allowed me to control the dosage I got in her wounds. Too little, and the infection might remain. Too much, and I risked blowing her arm apart. That being done, I cocked the hammer on my pistol, held my breath, and pulled the trigger, spending sparks flying upon the gunpowder I’d treated her wounds with. An angry lick of flame shot up her arm before burning out just as quickly, and she fell unconscious.
 
Krisa was alive. The infection had been burned away.
 
I found myself reflecting with Caesar. What I would give for myself, and all those around me, to be wrought in pneumatics and clockwork, rather than oh-so-vulnerable flesh! My medical expertise is crude at best. In the face of danger, I have always been able to rely on the resilience of my mechanical arm. I always know how to repair it afterwards, at the very least. Caesar, though… He speaks as a full automaton who perceives his metal body as naught but a curse. Every last inch a marvel of engineering, and every last inch reviled by him. He seems to miss human sensitivities he once had. If he’d lived for as long as I have, perhaps he would have grown numb to them, anyways—metal body or none.
 
My reveries did not last long. They hardly ever do, don’t they? We had made camp on the edge of a forest of jagged trees, right on the border of the place called Infernus. They looked less like ice-sheathed pines and more like fangs. They seemed to snarl at us through the dusk. Caesar and I kept watch. Krisa rested.
 
A shifting in the dark nearly took me by surprise, and I saw dark figures creeping through the teeth, flames licking through a dragon’s maw. It was the same sort of monster which nearly tore us open at the elf-home. Here, though, were many, many more of them.
 
No time to waste. I was up in a flash, jolting Krisa awake. They would be upon us in seconds if we attempted to flee with her together. Hungry eyes and churning jaws fell toward us in the twilight. I told Caesar to carry Krisa away while I held the beasts off. My Gryphon roared, and Caesar spirited the frail mage to safety.
 
If I peeled away too soon, the twisted things would have simply overran us as we fled. With every muzzle flash and crack of my pistol I saw them draw closer—closer—closer. Only when the frontrunner’s claws began to swipe past my face did I turn and run. Shadows lapped at my heels like hungry flames.
 
As I turned to run along the border of the jagged forest, I quickly noticed that my companions were not present ahead of me. Damn. Either they had been abruptly swallowed by the deep snow, or…
 
A quick glace ahead of me made the answer clear when I saw heavy footprints abruptly disappear: Caesar had fallen through a fissure again. I spared hardly a moment cursing the odds. With malignant beasts on my tail and nothing but desolation ahead of me, I decided to follow my party into the space between worlds. I leapt through the angry crack in the air, and in an instant felt an icy fist grip my chest.
 
Water filled my gasping lungs, and the cold seemed to crush my body. The murk pressed down upon even my shadow-piercing sight. I found myself flailing about, a primal fear keeping my head below the water. I had to regain control. I had to think.
 
I forced myself to still my body, ignore the chill fire in my lungs. My eyes swept the gloom, and I seized an understanding of up and down. My legs kicked off the soft, sandy bottom of a lake, and I surged to the surface.
 
Now that I was above the water, I had another threat to contend with: frostbite. A stiff breeze nipped at my face, and the ice water drenched my clothes and dragged at me like a mother pleading her little soldier not to go. Where were Caesar and Krisa?
 
The latter I heard explode to the surface, jettisoned from below. She beat the water more than she swam as she made her way towards the shore. Fortunate that it was close by—we might’ve froze to death otherwise.
 
Well, perhaps not all of us. Again I found myself in envy of Caesar’s metal body as he simply walked to shore from the bottom of the lake, breaching the water fully upright. I wonder if he rusts. My arm does not. But then again, I take good care of it. I wonder, had I a mechanical body, if I would simply spend all day maintaining myself. The hours disappear as-is when I have my opportunities to tinker. There is music in the gears, music it surprises me few others seem to hear. I could listen to it ceaselessly.
 
Krisa finally put her magic to good use, setting a fire for us as we gathered ourselves. I really don’t ask for much more than that, nor have I. From her.
 
On the other side of the lake there is a temple. It appears to be a forlorn thing, not unlike that which we saw in the Shifting Sands. Perhaps for that reason alone I’m not eager to approach it, despite the shelter it might offer. It would be unwise for me to separate myself from my companions in this hostile place, but I can’t say I’ll go happily…
 
After all, the last time I delved such a deep, those whom with I entered never left.