Chapter 42: Licking Wounds and Imbibing Brews

Now that the big battle is over, I can get to writing what I feel that I'm best at creating: slice-of-life and/or banter scenes. Not to doubt my own skills in other areas too much, but I just feel more comfortable doing character dialogue and descriptions. Everyone has their own areas of strengths, I suppose. Anyway, onto the story.

XXX

Bernadetta woke up with a start, taking a deep gasping breath as her vision filled with a view of a canvas ceiling. Inside her head, it felt like there was some kind of strange buzzing going on as if a hive of bees had nested inside of her skull. That buzzing was giving her a headache, the kind that throbbed inside of the eye sockets. She tried to rub the pain out of her eyes, but Bernadetta's hands had no luck. It was moments like that which made Bernadetta wish that she had stayed back at Garreg Mach.

With limbs that felt like they were made of pudding, Bernie pulled herself up from the cot she was resting on to take a look around. From what she could tell in the twilit brightness of the tent, she was in a medical treatment area for students injured during the battle. Only a few candles were lit, to allow for the other injured students to more easily sleep away their pains. The gentle sounds of breathing surrounded Bernie, coming from other students who were in the same boat as her.

"Oh, you're up," an older feminine voice observed in the shadows.

Focusing on the direction of the voice, Bernadetta could make out a somewhat familiar, if obscured in half-shadow, figure. It was none other than the resident healer and faith magic professor, Professor Manuela.

"Y-yeah. What happened...?" asked Bernie, before her question trailed off with a few short coughs. Now that she noticed it, it felt like someone had stuffed a bunch of cotton balls into her mouth and left them there for hours on end. It was feeling that dry.

Fortunately for her, Manuela quickly joined Bernadetta's side with a goblet of water in her hand. "Drink it," she firmly offered. Bernie had no reason to reject, and so took and drank the water. It felt like heaven trickling down her throat. The water felt like a river springing into existence in a dry land. As soon as she finished, Manuela then said, "Try not to be too loud, people are trying to sleep."

"Ah, r-right…" nodded Bernie, handing the goblet back. "So, what happened to me?"

"Same thing as everyone else here," Manuela explained. "They got hurt in the battle."

"Ohh…" Bernie groaned. She sank back down to lay on her back. "Did the Black Eagles at least win?"

Manuela shook her head. "Nope. The Golden Deer took it. Although everyone at least tried their hardest," she said with a sweeping gesture towards the sleeping recovering students. What she had just said was evident enough.

Bernadetta massaged her sore eyes again. From the looks of things, everyone had failed to protect her, in spite of what was promised to Bernie before the battle. It really did figure that way. No way reality would just stop trying to torture her very existence. Although if there was at least one bright spot to things, it was that she didn't have to face Sylvain out on the battlefield. Poor Bernie's heart would've broken otherwise.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to rest," said Manuela in a lowered voice. "Trust me, you'll be needing it."

"Thanks…" Bernie mumbled before rolling over on her side. She didn't even bother to look at Professor Manuela walking away from the rather stiff cot that Bernie now laid upon. There was honestly nothing left in her she could muster to interact with others, however limited it could possibly be.

The day was rough. Bernie didn't even need to consciously think about it. The ache in her muscles and bones were screaming that message loudly and clearly enough. Besides, all Bernie could think about, at least faintly, was how she behaved out on Gronder Field during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. It was completely unlike her. Although the image in her mind of it was hazy, distant even, it was still very apparent to her that the Bernie who tried to savagely defeat Lorenz wasn't the one who was laying down in the medical tent, agonizing over how pained her entire body felt. Something in her mind had taken over her body, something that she had no idea even existed before.

A dark recess of her mind had been given light in a moment of need, but Bernie had no idea how to feel about that. To think that she could change like that, almost like some kind of were-beast, or some kind of demonic creature… it was an utterly terrifying thought. One that felt almost sickening to her.

But it wasn't her fault that things reached such a state, right? She had been pushed to an extreme by external forces. There had to be someone to blame. Maybe Knights of Seiros? It was possible, since they helped to organize the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. However, they didn't actually take part in the battle itself. Same could be said for Garreg Mach Monastery itself, but that was such a larger organization that the blame would just be dissolved among everyone working for it.

Maybe the Black Eagles themselves? That one sounded fairly possible. Bernie did receive a promise of protection, and the students of the House had clearly failed that promise. She was forced to rely on her own wits, and when those failed, she had to unleash something that was utterly primal. Yes, that sounded just about right. It was a bitter thought, but it was at least one to consider. Otherwise, how else was Bernadetta going to reckon with what happened to her that day?

Bernie closed her eyes and ruminated on those thoughts as she tried to fall asleep. It was one of those ideas that one needed to sleep on. That, and given how tired and achy her body was feeling, Bernie hardly had any other choice but to rest it.

XXX

Meanwhile, the upper classmen of the Blue Lions all sat around the large campfire burning at the center of their corner of the camp. Shadows danced across the tarpaulin walls of their temporary shelters as their bodies merely sat there, contemplating the days events as they gazed into the bright flames. Chatter sprung up here and there, but overall, the mood pervading the area was of a pensive sort. It was easy to obsess over the what-could-have-beens and the never-weres of the hours before. It was instinctual to the human mind.

Sylvain took a sip of his waterskin before speaking up. "I'm just saying, I felt like we had it there for a moment."

"Victory was practically in our grasp," lamented Ingrid, agreeing. "But, at least we can say that we fought our hardest up there, right?"

Felix scowled, the shadowy glow cast on his face from the fire making his frown looking deeper. "If that was our best, then that clearly wasn't enough."

"Now, now, Felix," started Prince Dimitri. "The fact that we made it so far into the battle only proves that we truly have what it takes. All we need is more practice, and I'm sure we would win if given another chance."

"Yeah!" nodded Ashe. "I'm sure we impressed the Knights of Seiros up there today. Just a little bit more, and we would be standing shoulder to shoulder to them!"

Prince Dimitri nodded upon hearing Ashe's declaration. "That's precisely the message to keep in mind, Ashe."

"Still though," interjected Annette, "it does suck that we got so close and lost…"

Dedue shrugged. "There's no changing the outcome, we may as well accept that."

"In any case, we may as well learn something from this whole experience," summarized Dimitri. "If we ever face the other Houses on the battlefield again, we'll know what to do. We just need to internalize it all."

"Speaking of other Houses…" a voice called out from the darkness between the Blue Lions tents.

The Blue Lions all turned their heads to see who the voice belonged to, and out of the shadows stepped Claude von Riegan himself, followed by Hilda von Goneril behind him. In the Riegan heir's hands was a large glass bottle filled with amber liquid, and some kind of odd coiled shape resting in the liquid as well. It was hard to tell what exactly it was in the bottle due to the glare of the fire against the bottle's glass.

"...I hope you all don't mind the leader of the great Golden Deer coming by to be a gracious victor," the tanned man then finished, his grin still evident in the glint of the camp's flames.

"If you'll have us, of course," added Hilda.

Dimitri shifted aside from the spot on the log he was sitting on to make room for the camp's new guests. "We'll have you, of course. There's a spot for both of you to sit over here."

At that invitation, Claude and Hilda strode across the group and sat next to the Faerghus heir. For the most part, they had gotten battle-weary looks cast at them, as if the Blue Lions were too tired to complain to the leader of the Golden Deer about their loss against them. Dedue kept his normal stoic gaze leveled at the two though, and Felix couldn't help but glare at the pair as they passed by him. Out of all the Blue Lions, he was by far taking the loss the most personally.

Once settled, Claude propped up the bottle he was carrying on one of his knees, displaying it proudly for everyone else to see. "In the spirit of being a gracious winner, I bring you… spirits!"

The small pun that Claude made got a few chuckles, mainly from Mercedes, Annette, Ashe, and Hilda herself. Felix absolutely refused to let go of the death glare he was fixing onto Claude's face. If Claude noticed it, he didn't pay it any mind. Instead, he gave a smile to the Blue Lions camp.

"It's a generous gift, Claude. What kind of brew is it?" asked Prince Dimitri.

"Snake wine," was Claude's proud declaration. That made everyone else short of Hilda take pause.

"What?" Ashe asked, dumbfounded.

"Snake… wine?" thought aloud Mercedes, trying to process the idea.

"Is it poisonous?" Dedue then bluntly asked Claude.

"Nah, it's fine," waved off Claude. "I'm… pretty sure that most of the venom didn't get inside the drink."

Dedue wasted no time in saying to Prince Dimitri, "Don't drink that."

Prince Dimitri's eyes flashed down to the shape in the liquor bottle, and now he could clearly see that the coiled shape was that indeed of a dead snake. However, in the spirit of good sportsmanship, he felt that he had no right to turn down the gift offered by the day's gracious winner.

"Thank you Dedue, but I trust Claude's judgement. I'll gladly share a glass with you and Hilda," said Dimitri.

At that prompting, Claude uncorked the bottle and passed it over to Prince Dimitri, who took it and looked at the snake preserved in the alcohol. It appeared to be rather thoroughly dead, with glassy, unfocused eyes frozen open and reflecting the flickering fire at the center of the camp. Seeing that the viper was truly dead, Dimitri brought the bottle up to his lips and took a sip.

As soon as Dimitri let the liquor flow down his throat, he coughed some back up with a hacking wheeze, unprepared for just how strong the snake wine was. "My good—ACKKK—goodness! That's strong!"

"I know, right?!" exclaimed Hilda. "First time I drank it, I nearly puked. But try a bit more, it's a little bit of an acquired taste."

Prince Dimitri decided to put that idea on hold. "Where did you even get such a spirit, Claude?"

"Through the grapevine, my friend," was Claude's cryptic response.

"It's some Almyran stuff that Claude said was smuggled in by some bored border guards," then explained Hilda.

Claude actually sounded somewhat disappointed that his mysterious explanation was shot down instantly. "Oh come on, Hilda. It's not as fun when you put it that way."

"I dunno, it being smuggled goods adds kind of a neat edge to it," countered Hilda. "Like, it makes someone want it more because it's some stuff we're not supposed to have."

"She has a point, you know," Sylvain piped up. "I kinda want to try it now."

Dimitri stood up and handed the bottle over to Sylvain. "By all means, go ahead. But please do so in moderation."

Sylvain only took a sip to test the snake wine. Unlike Dimitri, his coughs weren't as severe, although the strength of the brew still made him wheeze out. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed.

"Uh, Claude?" Ashe asked. "What's the point of the snake in the wine?"

"Rumor has it that if you drink the snake wine, the power of the snake gets transferred into you," explained Claude. "And I don't mean the venom, I mean that you'll get the power and deadliness of the snake."

"Certainly sounds like something that would come from Almyra…" Ingrid observed out loud.

Sylvain took his time with his next sip of the snake wine, which was much easier on his gullet. The stinging affect of the alcohol still made his eyebrows shoot up, however. "Anyone else want to give this a try?" he asked.

Felix scoffed at the thought. "The idea that you can gain combat prowess from some liquor with snake in it is absurd. No, I don't want any."

Ashe looked around at everyone slightly nervously, before standing up and reaching out with his hand. "I'll try it, Sylvain."

"Oooh!" cheered Claude, clapping his hands in amusement. "Go for it, Ashe!"

Sitting back down with the jug, Ashe took a few deep breaths before chugging down a mouthful of the snake wine. Most of those around the campfire burst into cheers and claps of encouragement at the sight. Ashe had some real courage to go for a big drink of such a powerful spirit like that rice-based snake wine.

Ashe put down the bottle and started to cough fiercely into the crook of his arm, as if one of his lungs was going to come out. He only managed to catch his breath long enough to let out a hoarse "Wow…".

"That was awesome, Ashe!" cheered Annette next to the wannabe knight, before reaching over and taking the tiniest of sips herself.

Annette's curiosity rewarded her with what felt like a sudden jolt to her system and a suddenly nearly horse throat. "Oh wow, it's burning going down the back of my throat—ACKKH!"

Mercedes gave Annette a somewhat concerned clap on the shoulder with one hand, while gently pushing away the snake wine bottle with the other. "I wouldn't recommend drinking that again," she advised.

"Pass it back over, I wanna give it another shot," beckoned over Sylvain.

The night's festivities at the Blue Lions camp was one of liquor and merriment, with most of the upperclassmen partaking in the imbibing of the snake wine. Although there were a few hold-outs, there were enough of the students drinking the snake wine that the bottle steadily grew emptier. On his part, Claude couldn't help but enjoy the scene. He didn't need to drink a single drop, him and Hilda were getting plenty of entertainment from watching the Blue Lions dare each other into drinking more of the wine. As for the vibe of the overall campfire circle, it was as if the crushing defeat given to the Blue Lions was completely forgotten, with everyone short of Felix letting go of the loss in favor of taking in the cheery atmosphere being created.

Indeed, it was as if one could get drunk on the sense of community present there itself.

XXX

I've been wanting to get snake wine into this story for a while, as one of my self-set writing goals. Like, it isn't enough for everyone to bond over drinking, it has to be an unusual drink to make it really interesting, at least to me.

Anyway, this is The Draigg, and I'm signing off on this chapter for now!