A new survivor

Whalen was covered in fading bruises of varying shades. If anything was broken, it wasn't displaced. Overall, Gabriel was impressed by how the hammock had suspended the man temporarily from the worst of what must have been a horrible experience. 

Or the Fae had helped him, somehow. Anything was possible in these uncertain times. 

Captain Napier was watching silently as Gabriel treated the man's injuries, intermittently allowing Whalen a sip or more of clean water. It was important to take these things slowly, lest he vomit it up and waste their precious supplies. 

"Where are we?" Whalen asked, his sunken eyes looking around vaguely. "I never got an answer to where I washed ashore."

"The center of the main Cetoan settlement, as far as we can tell," Captain Napier answered. 

Shock rattled through the man, followed by a single, wracking sob. Gabriel frowned. Whalen wasn't hydrated enough to produce tears, and he shouldn't be subject to such upsetting news. A reproving look to the Captain was met with a shrug. 

"We've only found a few bodies so far. Almost everyone got out, I think," The apprentice comforted. He didn't want to think about how many bodies might never be found, washed out to sea to be lost forever. A thorough census would be necessary to determine the full extent of the casualties of this horrible event. 

"That's… that's good." The man calmed slightly. "My wife, my Portia, did she get away? Our children?" 

"Klain is making records of all the refugees," The Captain said. "When we get back there, we will know for certain." 

"Please, let it be so." Whalen whispered as Gabriel handed him the waterskin again for another sip. "They are precious to me. I don't know what I will do if–"

"He needs rest from his injuries, and intermittent food and water until he recovers," Gabriel told the leader, interrupting Whalen's musing to try to curb the emotional outburst until he recovered a little physically.

"Mason!" Napier called. "Stay here with Whalen while we search further. We will make camp here once the cart arrives, but we must search for any other survivors, unlikely as that may be." 

The soldier nodded and settled in. Two soldiers had been left behind to pull the bulk of the supplies on a hand cart as best they could through the ruins. Once they caught up with the search party, the group would bed down and do the same again the next day until they were finished searching or their resources necessitated returning to Klain. 

The rest of the day passed fruitlessly, but Gabriel kept an eye on Evey in case she ran off again to find someone else. She whined occasionally, but no more survivors were located. 

It had been a miracle they found even one. To hope for any more seemed greedy and perhaps even delusional. 

The weary searchers headed back to camp, where a fire had been built and something was roasting over it. The smell was vastly superior to the acrid air and stench of death that emanated from the sea. 

It would be hard to have too much of an appetite while they were here, but perhaps that was best to help conserve supplies anyway. Gabriel tried to think of it as some small benefit to the terrible circumstances. 

Whalen was the most enthusiastic eater, and for good reason. Compared to being trapped inside a confined space with the rotting corpse of his friend, the air out here must be refreshing. 

He was still weak, but livelier around the eyes. His system was reacting well to the return of food and water, and Gabriel was grateful. 

"So everything, as far as the eye can see, got wiped out?" He was asking as Gabriel took a plate. 

"The wave was large enough that the river around Klain flowed backwards for a few hours." Captain Napier took a bit of the meal. 

"Thad said it was big as a mountain, but foul." Whalen shook his head. "He wanted to tell me everything before he died, in case I got found."

"Foul?" Gabriel leaned forward. "How can a rock be foul?" 

"He said it fell fast, but it looked wrong. Holes all in it. Like rotting wood that got eaten by worms." Whalen continued. 

Captain Napier was writing down the information. He'd elected to wait on sending the first messenger bird until their first full day of searching, in case some happier news could be included on the missive. 

The discovery of a survivor and the better description of the fallen object both qualified as worthy to be conveyed to King Commodore Roland. 

"I've never seen a rock that looks like that," Mason squinted at the man, skepticism in his voice. "Maybe your friends was mistaken, or delirious." 

"He seemed certain enough to make the description his dying words to me," Whalen looked about to punch Mason. 

Gabriel couldn't really blame him. The short time he'd spent in Mason's company did not give him any fondness for the man. It was no wonder he'd never been promoted beyond his current rank, despite his bragging about being in the military for over a decade. 

"That's enough for the evening. We need rest if we're to finish our preliminary search of the Settlement tomorrow. Mason, take first watch." Napier directed, removing the man from the conversation. Mason grumbled but followed orders. 

Gabriel chewed the inside of his cheek as he looked towards the sea. The destruction on land was so utterly complete that there was no real hope of finding anyone else that survived. It was only by virtue of Whalen's habit of keeping food and water while he slept that he remained alive long enough to be found. 

"If only the refugees had moved faster, or been able to send a message ahead," He whispered. "Maybe we could have done more good." 

Somehow, he doubted it. The bodies they found, from what he could tell, had all drowned in the initial flood. No one seemed to have succumbed to injuries afterward apart from Whalen's companion inside the ship. 

There wasn't much to be salvaged, no survivors to care for, not much to be done here except fruitlessly prod the devastation and hope for miracles. 

The sunset lingering in the sky was shades of red and purple. It would have been beautiful but for the utter ruination of everything in sight. Hanging over the desolation and rot of the once-thriving settlement, it seemed ominous and threatening. 

Gabriel pulled out his bedroll and spread it on the cool ground, despair creeping into his heart. He had a vague sense that it was good that there weren't throngs more survivors being discovered amongst the detritus of civilization. 

They hadn't the resources to provide for them. There wasn't clean water to replenish their supplies. Klain would already strain to the breaking point taking care of those who had already arrived. 

It would break his heart to have to triage hundreds of people, losing who knew how many patients. He imagined if they had arrived to the groans and suffering of hundreds of trapped people, unable to help them all. Surely this was better. 

Most, hopefully, had gotten away. Those who had died had done so immediately, without sustained suffering of days without aid. His conscience didn't have to bear the echoes of those he could have saved, for there were none. 

He had saved both survivors he had found so far. 

As he lay down, Evey nudged his arm with her nose. 

"Really?" He asked, a little annoyed. His bedroll was not large enough to accommodate both himself and the animal. 

Evey was apparently not convinced of this fact, for she nosed her way into it and wiggled around until she was comfortable. Heaving a sigh that was almost a snore, she settled in to sleep in her new master's arms. 

"I'm completely shocked that you actually fit here. Fine. At least we won't get cold in the sea air." Gabe muttered. 

Cold was amongst the least of his worries. The spring was becoming summer and the ocean's climate was steady and temperate so far. He hoped it would stay that way. 

Sleep eluded him for a long while. The odd silence of nature was something he was paying too much attention to… which was strange, because he didn't have any such noise in Klain. 

Still, his time being raised in a village as well as out camping during his year of military service were foremost in his mind. There were always owls, or distant wolves, and the pervasive chirping of nocturnal insects. Here, there was only the sea's quiet rush… and Evey's snores. 

He concentrated on the latter, hoping that the steady sound would lull him out of consciousness until his turn to take watch. Sleep was precious, and he needed to get all he could. Tomorrow could bring new challenges that he must be ready to face, with or without adequate rest behind him.