iii. revelation

"Are you all right?"

Kella opened her eyes wearily, looking up at Domick's concerned face. As her eyesight became more pronounced, she realised they were in some sort of cottage. As she assessed her surroundings, she knew that it was not a place she was familiar with. However, Domick was here—perhaps it was an inn of some sort? She couldn't remember what had happened after they'd tumbled down that waterfall. She had expected to awaken washed up on to the shore.

"I'm fine," she managed after a few moments, forcing herself to sit. She gasped as her arm began to ache horribly.

"Don't move too much," he scolded lightly. "It may be fractured from the fall."

She was not in the mood to argue with him, but not entirely touched by what sounded like a patronising tone, either. "What about—the others? Are they—?"

Domick snorted. "Once a healer, always a healer," he shook his head. "They're fine. No worse off than you are."

Kella bristled. "You don't seem worried," she fired back. "Once a coercer, always a coercer, I suppose."

The change in Domick's face was almost immediate. He seemed almost repelled by her words—he morphed from nonchalant to annoyed in the span of a few seconds. "I was worried. How do you think it felt to be the only one conscious? I thought you…"

Her anger tapered off. While empathy was only her secondary Talent, she could feel that his emotions were sincere. He had been worried. About Elspeth, Jik and Pavo—but his worry had seemed to be centred on her in particular. She stared, uncomprehending.

"I'm sorry," she said eventually.

He remained silent, staring out of the window. She noted that he was not completely uninjured, as he was covered in bruises and small scratches. Her stomach turned uneasily. For some inexplicable reason, she hated to see it. She also noticed he was favouring one leg. It would be just like Domick to ignore his own injuries if he felt they were not safe. Once a coercer, always a coercer.

Kella got to her feet unsteadily. "Here," she said. "Let me help you with—"

As she tried to make her way over to him, she felt her legs give way. Obviously she was less recovered than she thought. Domick managed to catch her before she fell, and to her utter bewilderment, started laughing. She wondered if he was mocking her, but could only fathom surprise in response. Perhaps he'd hit his head. It would explain a lot about his odd behaviour, Kella thought quietly to herself.

"You are completely insane," he told her eventually, gently pushing her to sit back down. "Get back into bed and rest a little more. The woman who took us in, Katlyn, she is an herb lorist. She has tended to my injuries already."

His emotions seemed to indicate that he was not only amused, but seemingly touched by her display. Kella baulked. She had not meant to give him any sort of wrong impression! But she had to admit she had begun to warm to him since the start of their expedition. She had always convinced herself that she held no regard for him, and it was easy to keep up at Obernewtyn, for their guilds were barely civil with one another. But on this journey, she'd realised that guild rivalry was not enough of a reason for her to dislike Domick. She wasn't even sure if she ever had disliked him as a person, rather just disliked his guild in general. That complicated things, unfortunately, but not in an entirely bad way.

Whilst they had been travelling through the cave on the raft, she'd clung to his hand as long as she thought she could without looking odd. They'd exchanged glances over Elspeth's embarrassment, and she'd felt a certain sense of camaraderie developing between them. She felt she could understand him better now than she ever had at Obernewtyn. Maybe life-threatening situations were what it took to properly form a bond of friendship with somebody.

There was that word again. "Bond". Kella flushed, but Domick must've thought it had to do with her exhaustion, for he said nothing.

"I'm going to scout around the area," he told her. "If you feel the need to tend to somebody, I guess Elspeth could use it. But try to rest some more, please. Katlyn can look after them in the meantime. She's trustworthy."

Kella nodded slowly. "…all right," she responded. His tone hadn't sounded commanding or authoritative, merely tinged with that same worry she'd felt from him before. It caused a certain sensation in her stomach and chest that made her feel slightly giddy. "But you should be careful, if you're going out alone."

To her surprise, he smiled slightly at her. He did not often smile or laugh at anything, not even Roland's comical yelling, and here she had experienced both in the span of five minutes! It was odd, she decided. Very odd. "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

Kella stared down at her hands. "I never doubted that, Domick."

She did not often use his name, even when they had talked at Obernewtyn, and those times had been few and far between—except at guildmerge. She had always simply addressed him as a ward of his guild, then. To be completely honest, she'd often been a little apprehensive of talking to him in a personal context. He always seemed so distant and cold. Others in his guild frequently had similar personalities; she'd thought it was because the Talent of coercion demanded it. But maybe it was just a façade on Domick's part. He certainly seemed different now, despite their situation.

"I'll be back soon," he said carefully. The next thing he did shocked Kella very greatly. He put an arm around her, almost as if in an embrace, squeezing her a little. He drew back very quickly, face tinged a little pink, before he went back over to the window and disappeared without another word.

Kella remained sitting on the bed, the pain in her arm forgotten. She could still feel the warmth he'd left behind, and the tangle of emotions that had been released when he'd touched her. Fear, worry, anger—but, greater than those, gladness. She could not quite decipher why this was or when it had developed, but a dynamic had changed between them.

She thought back to her own fear at the Druid's encampment and the hope that Domick would rescue them. The hope that he would have a solution. The hope that he'd be there when they escaped. He always seemed so together and courageous, despite his views on necessary violence and death sometimes being the only way to silence an enemy. Albeit his tendency to block the Talents of "suspicious" Misfits even when they weren't a great danger, and coerce mental barricades in their minds when it wasn't completely necessary, it was all because he cared fiercely for Obernewtyn. For both what it stood for and its inhabitants. While Kella could not bring herself to completely agree with him, for her healer nature was still repulsed by some of his guild's methods, she knew she wouldn't need to ask for his justifications. She knew them already. And maybe she had always known them.

It was not a matter of arrogance or overconfidence. It was a matter of surety in his ability to change things. Hope. He wanted the same things she did. And those emotions—

Kella was certain that he was not all he seemed. That he hid the more vulnerable parts of himself to get the job done. She smiled as she realised that he had allowed her to get that close, even momentarily. He knew she had slight empathy—he must've known she'd feel it.

She leant back, staring at the ceiling. He really wasn't that bad... was he?