At the end of the day, Nyell almost dropped dead in his bed from fatigue. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Today had been a long day.
Still, Nyell could not fall asleep right away. Instead, he closed his eyes, and events of the day flashed under his eyelids like fragmented records. It was hard to put into words what he was feeling, for the White Moon tribe was riddled with so much corruption that the splendor of the town had been tarnished beyond salvation. He could not unsee what he had seen.
***
A few hours ago
While Abby and the rest of the rescue team pulled up the estranged sailors onto a safe plateau, Nyell decided to travel to the second cliff on the east side, which faced the cliff rising on the west, the one they had explored first. The west cliff was less dangerous, with a relatively flat shore and few rifts. Abby had said that if they were survivors, they would most likely be on the west side, which was why they oriented their rescue operation toward this cliff first. But now, Nyell felt like, maybe, another miracle had taken place on the east side.
If it had been a few months prior, Nyell could have simply crossed the sea via a majestic bridge. It had been towering over the entrance of the lagoon, connecting the two cliffs for ages, but only ruins remained now. Unfortunately, it got destroyed by the very first tidal wave that crashed onto the White Moon land. It had been replaced by a precarious rope bridge, which swayed dangerously back and forth due to the strong wind.
Nevertheless, Nyell walked through it despite Abby's protests. She wasn't too keen on him taking the risk, but she couldn't muster the will to hold him back, not after the stunt he just pulled. What if, and only what if, there were other survivors on the other side? She doubted it, just as she had doubted anyone was alive earlier. Still, a miracle could have happened on that side of the lagoon, too. Hope was contagious and hard to contain. As such, she didn't have it in her to stop him.
And for once, that hope wasn't vain.
It didn't take long before Nyell found another group of survivors from a second shipwreck, mostly children and women. However, their states weren't as good as the sailors. Only… that might not have been due to the crash. Their bodies appeared emancipated by starvation, and shackles dug deep into their wrists and ankles. They were terrified of Nyell, who stood motionless for a long time. It wasn't a sight he had expected to see, and now he knew for sure that someone, or maybe it would be more accurate to say that something, had intervened. Otherwise, these people would have drowned. They could not swim with these shackles.
Nyell was at a loss. Weren't shackles used on prisoners of war? But if Dangu had intervened to protect them, then they were most likely not prisoners from the White Moon tribe. They didn't have the look, either. And who would treat children and women that way? At the time, Nyell didn't know what enslaved people and trafficking were. He did have a hunch because of Miell's story from earlier, but he still wasn't completely aware of the cruel reality. It was a disgusting concept he discovered later, when Allen blew up at the fools who dared to orchestrate such a revolting thing in his territory.
For now, though, these shackles had to go, so Nyell broke them. For a werewolf, these chains were brittle, and he snapped them with his bare hands after exercising a bit of strength. The children and women obviously didn't understand a thing about what he said, crying in fear when he got closer before freezing in shock when they were freed from their shackles. They looked at him with uncertainty, snot and tears smeared all over their faces, and all Nyell could do was smile as reassuringly as possible.
The situation was strange, so Nyell paused for a moment, wondering what to do next. These people hadn't been treated well, yet Dangu went out of his way to ensure their safety. Even the cave they were cuddling in was situated higher than what the tide could reach. Tides were something he knew a bit about, thanks to Lapis' rambling back in his tribe and Abby's explanation as they made their way to the cliffs. She had been afraid he wouldn't know what they were and would end up being trapped by the rising water. The tide came at a regular time, but it was fast and could easily swallow those who weren't careful. But as long as Nyell traveled up to where the line of the ruined houses began, he'd be safe. The White Moon tribe was well aware of this phenomenon and hadn't settled down too low to avoid damaging their infrastructure, understandably so.
Nyell was still racking his brain when one woman, who appeared a little older than the rest, tiptoed toward him while a young boy clung to her leg. Even if she seemed to be fearful, she mustered the courage to speak. She had a strong accent but somehow managed to make herself understood.
"Please, don't bring us back to the White Moon land."
The pleading tone took Nyell aback. He frowned, trying to figure out what was going on. It wasn't like leaving them here to fend for themselves was an option, as the temperature was bound to grow too cold at night. The few pieces of clothing that hung onto their bodies were tattered, and they obviously needed a good meal. They would freeze to death if he let them be. Nyell was also sure Allen would provide them with shelter and warm food. But just as he was about to speak, he heard footsteps behind him. He instinctively turned around and placed himself in a defensive position in front of the children and the women, only to heave a sigh of relief when his gaze met the newcomers.
"What are you guys doing here?"
"Dangu warned me," Myrven simply said, a restrained anger stretching his facial features taut. He seemed about to go on a rampage, leaving Nyell speechless. He had never seen the familiar spirit this furious. He was usually calm and relatively quiet, the kind of patient man who rarely, if ever, lost his cool. Layla, too, appeared on the verge of exploding, her usual absent-minded look gone. What the heck was going on?
"Are you alright…?"
"Yes, we are, don't worry. I'll take care of things here. In the meantime, can you go back to Abby and tell her you found no one?"
The woman behind Nyell tensed at Myrven's words, and she grabbed his pants, a panicked look on her face. She didn't know Myrven, and his words seemed to indicate they wanted them to go unnoticed, as if to dispose of them quietly or worse. Her every gesture spoke volumes, and Myrven, aware of his current appearance, tried his best to hide his heavy mood. He then softened his voice as much as he possibly could and spoke in a language Nyell didn't understand. The woman still appeared suspicious and unwilling. That was, until Layla opened her mouth wide open and pointed at her tongue. Or more accurately, at the absence of a tongue.
"What the…"
Nyell was left dumbstruck, maybe even more than the children and women behind him. He knew Layla was mute, but he didn't realize she was tongueless. It was something he had never imagined possible, not with how impressive Layla's regenerative ability was. To him, it was inconceivable that her tongue was gone. And most troubling, considering how clean the cut was, it was done purposely. It wasn't like she wasn't born with a tongue. She did have one, once upon a time.
No wonder she opted for broth and soup rather than solid food like meat that needed to be masticated and swallowed. The fleeting thought made Nyell silently wince. Now wasn't the time to think about such things.
"Should I keep my questions for later?" Nyell smiled wryly, aware that getting into a discussion in front of strangers wasn't necessarily the idea of the century. And as an answer, Myrven nodded. Meanwhile, Layla ran over to hug him, as if to tell him that she was alright. That was when he realized he hadn't managed to hide his shock, his expression revealing how troubled he was by her tongueless mouth. He could not help but think of the pain she had to endure, nor could he fathom what reason there was for such a barbaric act. After witnessing his uncle's death, Nyell had lost hope in people and always imagined the worst.
A long, deep sigh escaped Nyell. In what kind of machination did he tangle himself by coming to the White Moon tribe? It had only been a day, a day! Yet, so many things had happened that it felt like weeks had passed by. He certainly wouldn't get bored during his stay, though he wasn't so sure if that was a good thing. He'd rather die of boredom than witness others drown in pain and sorrow.