Olivia woke up to the light of dawn that cast heavy shadows in her tent. The camp now had a strategic tent layout structured around when individuals want to wake up; one of the perks of having a renowned tactician on their team. Light sensitive sleepers who wanted to wake up when the sun first comes up sleep in the tent with the most direct sunlight, and are waken at first light. Then the other tents are lined up so the shadows from the other tents block the light so they can sleep longer, until the whole camp is awake. As she likes to practice in the early morning, Olivia slept in the second tent in one of the rows.
Automatically, Olivia tried to get up for her usual routine, accidently shifting her weight on her bad arm. She gritted her teeth in response, remembering its presence.
And the man who saved her life.
She cursed herself at the thought; she promised herself the day before to forget about him. With a frustrated sigh, the dancer jumped to her feet, grabbing a fresh set of clothes. She stared down at them thoughtfully and glanced at her portable mirror, slowly turning the rest of her body to it. Her hair was a mess, one of her plats had come undone and so had her ponytail. She had bandages wrapped around her left shoulder and around her neck. But she wasn't looking at either. Dry blood adorned almost half of her body; it was smeared on her cheek and leg, and had absorbed in her clothes, making them stiff. One of her top straps was severed, dyed and flecked. Olivia traced the burning cut under her bandage, once again breaking the promise she made to herself. She re-tracked the events in her head; being pushed out or formation, realising there was a risen directly behind her, being swept away in warm arms, feeling sharp metal sink in her skin, seeing the crow and fallen risen, looking for the first time on her saviour. A ghost of a smile was stiff on her face.
"Look at all that blood," she quoted, eyebrows wrinkling.
After Showering and changing her bandages, Olivia headed from the camp towards the nearest village to buy talk to locals and look for inspiration. She skipped down the dirt road, humming cheerfully. She had a basket with her to bring veg for the night as she was on mess duty tonight. Suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks, horrified at the sight. In front of her, standing only a few feet away was a familiar white-haired dark mage crouching and muttering what could only be assumed as incarnations over a puppy! Without thinking, she dropped her things and towards them screaming.
"DON'T TOUTCH THAT DOG!" Henry turned to her wearing a confused face.
"Huh? What the," Henry protested as the girl violently snatched the puppy from his arms. "Hey!"
Olivia sharply regained her senses and wondered how to talk to him. With little time to think about it, she decided he wouldn't remember her and tried to carry on as if the day before hadn't happened.
"I know you! You're that creepy kid who likes blood and magic and...Blood magic! You stay away from that poor little doggy!" Henry's face held the same smile as always, unmoving as he argued.
"But this dog is hurt. See, his leg has this—" The man reached out to touch the dog's paw and Olivia jerked away.
"N-no! Stop! I'll take care of him and nurse him back to health!" She insisted
"Huh?" He asked again, taking a small moment to think before continuing. "Oh, okay, sure! We can take care of him together!" The dancer was taken aback at his suggestion.
"T-together? Waaait a second. Aren't you going to sacrifice him to your dark god or something?" Olivia's muscles loosened as she turned back to him. Henry stood up to face her and defend his now hurt pride.
"You're a crazy lady," he said coldly, striding towards her with his permanent smile on his face. Olivia felt sweat run down the side of her face and she stepped back. She half expected to be attacked and turned to hide the dog from him, but he continued cheerfully, waving his arms around like a child.
"Why would I do that? I love doggies! I want to save his life! Right, boy?" He asked, walking around the dancer to fuss the dog. "Who's a good boy? Aren't you glad the crazy lady wants to help us? Yes you are!"
"Hey! How am I crazy? You're the one who's obsessed with blood!" Olivia countered, remembering when her brief image of him being a gallant knight shattered.
"Hey, that's a medical condition! Show some respect!" His defence felt heavier to her than a hammer. Fate sure loved to tease her.
"Oh, never mind," Olivia half whispered, emotionally deflated. She kicked the basket to him and faced towards the village. "Right now, we have a dog that needs looking after. Will you run and get me some bandages?"
"You got it, crazy lady!" He replied. He sprinted away before she had a chance to retort and Olivia swore she saw his grin was even wider when he said it.
Ten minutes later, Olivia saw the recognisable figure of Henry came jogging, no, prancing back. Her eyebrow twitched in frustration as she watched his ridiculous movements from below a tree.
"Here are the bandages, Ma'am!"
"Ah, thanks," Olivia replied hollowly. She inspected the dog's cut to make sure there was no glass in it and dabbed it with ointment. Henry wordlessly took the bandages out of the bag and started wrapping the paw whilst Olivia held it up. The whole operation was done in respectable silence which started to mend her opinion of the dark mage. She glanced over at Henry, wondering if he still was smiling and to try to tell what about him put her so at ease now. A pang of disappointment surged through her heart when she saw his facial features hadn't moved. He seemed so damaged but he was so gentle. It didn't make sense.
"How's the wound?" Henry asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Oh. I think it should be fine, I don't think there was any glass in it and I tri-"
"No, not the dog. How's your wound?" The question caught Olivia off guard and flustered her.
"Oh, this?" She clumsily stroked her bandages. "It's OK… Not as bad as it would have been…" She let her hand gently fall back down to her lap and held it with her other hand. She turned her face away from the obscenely optimistic man in front of her to the mountains where yesterday's battle took place, her face locked in an unreadable expression. There was no way Henry remembered her, she was just a fluke; nobody would have noticed if she was gone. She wasn't going to waste her effort hoping for the impossible.
"It's true; you would have had your head cut clean off! It was like watching an execution; he had an axe and everything. Heck, you almost looked like you accepted it." Olivia snapped her head back to see his laughing face in shock. Her chest felt tight. He remembered it…
"You still remember?" She asked faintly.
"How could I forget? It's hard to forget someone when it looks like they're half normal, half blood!"
"Ha…Yes…Blood…" Olivia almost cried. She promised she wouldn't hope. Hell, she promised she wouldn't think about him and avoid him. Of course he only remembers her because she was covered in blood. "How's your arm?" She asked, forcing back thoughts and tears.
"Great! That healer guy fixed it up good, too good. Now I can't prod it," Henry pouted. He revealed his bandaged arm and tried to pick at the bandage. Olivia laughed, tears falling from her eyes.
'Oh heavens, no,' She screamed internally and plastered a fake grin on her face to hide her true emotion.
"You're so silly, don't pick at it," she ordered and grabbed her basket, still holding her smile, still crying. Is this what Henry's always doing? Is this what he's feeling? Crippling lack of self-worth and hatred? "Well I've got to go; I've got mess duty today! Try to find the dog's home OK?" Henry tilted his head, confused.
"…OK. See you later, then." He called back at the pink-haired woman sprinting towards the village.
"She really is a crazy lady," Henry confirmed when she had gone out of sight.