Happy Friday! And an early Happy Christmas to those who celebrate it (and Warmest Winter Wishes to those who don't) :)

Last week, we left Lyon in the clutches of the Blendy cousins. As much as I love our girls, I really don't envy him right now...

As a side note, I am not a medical professional, so I'm taking creative license with injuries and such. If you get blasted by a God-Slayer (or any other Guild Wizard, for that matter) I would recommend you seek medical advice from a professional. :) - K. Chandler


After being manhandled into the Lamia Scale Infirmary, Lyon found himself being poked and prodded by Chelia as she started her examination.

"Well?" asked Sherry.

"Eh…it's kind of hard to say. I don't think he has a concussion," observed Chelia. "Maybe…"

"I'm sitting right here, you know," he reminded them sullenly. Lyon mentally added First Aid Training to his curriculum for Chelia.

"But you can heal him, can't you?"

"I can try…" Chelia frowned. "Do you want me to? I don't want to make things worse…"

"If you have enough magic to waste on this, you should have done a better job of beating me," grumbled Lyon.

"I think she did just fine 'beating you,'" said Sherry crossly, addressing him for the first time.

"And I wasn't even trying!" Chelia piped up, making Sherry glare. "Sorry…" she mumbled, rubbing at the back of her neck awkwardly.

Lyon scoffed. "I hardly call that beating me," he said haughtily. "Had we actually been fighting, I would have kept going." The corners of his mouth twitched upwards mockingly.

"That isn't funny." Sherry's eyes narrowed as she brought a shaky hand up to her hair.

"I'm not laughing."

"You could have been seriously hurt!" Sherry would go off on something like this.

"I hit my side kind of hard when I landed. That's all. There's really no need to worry."

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Sherry demanded.

"They're just bruised ribs," he said flatly. His crossed his arms over his chest.

"You said you were fine!" Her voice reached a new level of grating.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, clearly you didn't believe me."

"Of course, I didn't! That wouldn't be love."

He blinked at her. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're an idiot who pushes himself too hard."

Lyon snorted. "They'll be fine in a day or two. All I need is some ice."

"I'll go fetch some!" said Chelia. Lyon had forgotten their she was there. "I'll be right back," she said. Chelia flashed her teammates a thumbs-up before dashing out the door.

To fetch ice? Lyon stared after her, shaking his head in open-mouthed disbelief. "She can't have forgotten that I'm an Ice-Make Wizard, right?"

Sherry sighed fondly, turning to dig through one of the infirmary's storage cabinets. "She's not used to seeing us argue," she said. She shut the cabinet and pulled open a drawer. "She hasn't been with us for as long as Toby and Yuka have."

"That wasn't arguing."

"Yes, but she doesn't know that," said Sherry. "I'll talk to her later. In the meantime…" Sherry plucked an object from the drawer, holding it up dramatically.

"What's that?"

"It's a roll of gauze."

"I can see that. What are you planning to do with it?"

"Wrapping your ribs for you, what else? You'll need to take your shirt off."

Lyon resisted the urge to sigh. Sherry cared deeply for all of her guildmates in Lamia Scale—love, she called it. Lyon suspected that at one point she actually had loved him—or at least harbored quite the serious crush. But thankfully she outgrew her misguided phase. But she and Lyon still shared a special friendship, despite it all. And she still tended to express that in the only way she knew how: by worrying and fussing over him.

And Lyon knew that. So he'd indulge her. For now. Without protest, Lyon undid the buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off. He'd do as she asked, despite knowing that this was the wrong way to go about addressing a rib injury.

Sherry gasped, one hand moving to her mouth. "That isn't love," she whispered. She ghosted a hand against his left side.

"Hm?" Lyon couldn't quite see what she was looking at, but he imagined there was probably a bruise starting to form at the bottom of his ribcage. And with his fair skin it probably stood out in ghastly contrast, making it looked far worse than it really was. He didn't feel like twisting around to try and confirm his suspicions. The pain had reduced to a dull throb if he stayed still and he wanted to keep it that way.

"I think they're more than bruised, Lyon. You might have actually cracked this one here," Sherry said, frowning.

"Like I said, rough landing," he said dismissively. "Nothing we can do about it now."

"Sorry," said Sherry quietly. "All this is kind of my fault, you know." She unrolled the end of the gauze, keeping tension on it as she looped it around.

"Why is that?" he asked. He hissed, stiffening as she tugged on the bandage, tightened it around his torso. He hoped she didn't notice.

If she did, she didn't comment. Instead, she said, "I was… distracted. I wasn't paying attention, and that's not love. If I realized the two of you were sparring out there, I wouldn't have said anything. I should have known better."

"It's okay." Lyon wasn't about to try to convince Sherry that she wasn't to blame. In the past, that sort of thing tended to upset her more.

Sherry's movements were crisp and efficient. A decade of adventures and more than a few near-misses had given all of them ample opportunity to patch each other up. But even after all these years, it still surprised Lyon how his over-dramatic friend could be so clinical when she worked.

She certainly had changed. They all had.

"What was it you wanted to say earlier?"

Sherry shook her head. "It wasn't all that important," she mumbled.

"I find that hard to believe. You wanted to talk, right?"

"No, not like this," said Sherry.

"This is as good a place as any," Lyon pointed out.

"Now?"

"Why not?" he asked.

Sherry shrugged. She looked away.

How much more encouragement did she need? Maybe he'd just rile her up instead.

"So, what's going on with you and the Blue Pegasus Playboy?" asked Lyon, deliberately.

"He's not a playboy, Lyon."

"You still haven't told me what happened." Lyon gave Sherry a pointed glance.

"….You know I've liked Ren for a while now." Sherry spoke slowly, a smile pulling shyly at her lips.

"Since that joint mission."

Sherry nodded. "Well, he told me…that he liked me too."

Lyon pressed his lips together, forcing himself to think before he responded harshly.

He'd never liked this guy. But it was obvious that Sherry did, despite the fact that he was nowhere near good enough for her. Lyon could think of a number of perfectly respectable men that he would have been happy for Sherry to date. How did she end up falling for this philandering Blue Pegasus mage?

"Congratulations," said Lyon, trying hard not to sound sarcastic. "So, are you two together now?" he added.

Sherry nodded, her eyes distant. "Yeah. Blue Pegasus is a little bit far, but Ren thinks we can make it work."

"Oh? And what do you think?" Lyon asked cautiously.

"…I was happy he thought so too," said Sherry.

Well, that settled it. If this was really what Sherry wanted, then Lyon would be supportive of her decision, despite his misgivings. Ren seemed to make her happy, and that was all that mattered.

"I'm happy for you, Sherry," he said warmly. "I'm glad it worked out."

Sherry hummed in agreement.

Lyon caught sight of a glimmer on her finger. "Sherry." He narrowed his eyes. "He didn't propose, did he?"

"Hmm? No, of course not," she laughed. "Don't be silly."

"Well, then what's that?" Lyon pointed at the offending jewelry.

"It's a promise ring." Sherry flushed. She looked away. "He promised that he'd always be faithful. And that I was the only one for him," she said softly, holding her hand up to let the gemstone reflect in the light.

"Did he?" Lyon's jaw clenched. Faithful wasn't a word he'd associate with any of the mages Blue Pegasus. They were insincere, the lot of them.

"Well, you know how he is," said Sherry, with a fond smile.

Lyon did know. Ren was the type of man who didn't admit his feelings easily. At least, not if he truly meant them. And Sherry was describing it as if Ren had poured his heart out. Lyon didn't like it.

Sherry's eyes shimmered with that love that she always talked about, a soft smile playing at her lips. She was serious about Ren Akatsuki.

Even though Lyon had intended to be supportive, for Sherry's sake, he couldn't let this one slide.

No. He'd have to talk to talk with Ren personally. Face-to-face. Man-to-man.

"There. All done," said Sherry, looking him over. She seemed pleased with her handiwork. "How's that?"

Lyon drew an experimental breath, pleasantly surprised by the effectiveness of Sherry's work. He hummed approvingly as he put his shirt back on.

"I have to go," said Sherry. "I promised Ooba that I'd help her out with something this afternoon."

"You'd better get going then. You don't want the old hag to spin you."

Sherry nodded. "And you'd better take it easy this afternoon," she said, pointing. Her finger almost touched his nose. "Lyon, I mean it."

"Certainly."

Lyon smirked. He'd certainly take it easy. After all, giving that Blue Pegasus Playboy a piece of his mind couldn't be anything but easy.


Gee, Lyon. Over-protective much? Ha! I love the friendship that Lyon shares with and his team - especially Sherry. Those two have been through a lot together. The promise ring on Sherry's finger is just one reason for the title of this fic. Keep your eyes open for other sorts of promises in upcoming chapters.

Next time, in [Mazeverse] A Promise, Lyon runs into trouble on his way out of town: But he was barely out of the guild when…he ran into the little God-Slayer. Great.

Stop back next Friday for the next installment, or just follow me, Karine of R011ingThunder.