Chapter 18) Healer
Chagall hired Thracia's dragon knights to offset the loss of Eldigan and his Cross Knights. Their single attack was brutal and devastating, but our own counterattack must've spooked them as, after a couple of days, there were no signs of them. Erinys flew many patrols to make sure, even flying to the Tower of Blaggi in the very north to ask Father Claude and Tailtiu if they'd seen anything. They hadn't, but did speak of returning to Sigurd soon.
When Erinys returned from that patrol, Sigurd announced that we'd push forward to Silvail. It was time for Chagall to answer for his actions, once and for all.
When Sigurd made his announcement, Lachesis and Ethlyn insisted on doing infirmary inventory for me. Both had, mostly, finished their own preparations and needed something to do. I had protested at first, but gave in when I realized just why they wanted to keep working. They were on pins and needles. They were going to confront Chagall, who destroyed Agustria, harmed thousands, and killed Eldigan.
So, instead, I visited a nearby village to help them out instead. From them, I learned that while some of Eldigan's Cross Knights were killed while escaping Silvail, others managed to make it. I hoped they were safe. It would be impossible to know until we got the north settled again. But I hoped they made it to Noldion. I hoped they made it to Grahnye and Ares, so that they could be safe.
"Miss?" someone called. I held up a hand to tell them to wait as I bandaged up a little girl's arm. She'd cut herself on a jagged rock and it had gotten infected. "I'm sorry."
"Let me just finish," I reassured, still not looking at whoever it was. My attention was all on the girl, and I smiled when I tied off the bandage. "Now, next time you fall and get an owie, you let your mother know right away so that she can clean it." The little girl giggled and actually gave me a kiss on the cheek before running over to said mother. I smiled warmly at them both before turning to the person. "Yes?"
"My apologies for bothering you." They looked young, not much older than Finn or Oifeye, and spoke with an accent I couldn't place. "But my friend was injured a few days back and we can't seem to get the injury to stop bleeding?"
"Is that so?" I picked up my staff and stood slowly. "That sounds serious. Where is your friend?"
"I… well…" They bowed their head, and I noticed they were careful to keep the hood of their cloak up. "In the woods?"
"You're in the woods?"
"We're not locals, as I'm sure you've figured already, ma'am. We swung this way to avoid the trouble in east Grannvale." They looked up tentatively. "I know this sounds suspicious, but we were really trying not to bother the people here, so we camped instead, but that wound is…"
"I see." I frowned slightly. They wasn't kidding that this was suspicious, but there was an earnestness in their eyes that made me think they were sincere. "Let me post word to someone, if you do not mind, and wash my hands."
"Of course." They lifted their head and smiled brightly. "Thank you!"
I told a few villagers that I was heading out of the village to treat someone, and they reassured me that they'd let people in the army know. So, still uneasy but a little more reassured, I followed the earnest messenger into the woods. I snapped branches on the way, doing my best to mark my way. The messenger didn't stop me, even helping me over some particularly large roots and fallen logs.
"Thank you so much, ma'am," they babbled as we continued through the woods. We weren't on a path, and we were heading quite deep. "Like I said, we tried tending to it, but it's cut all weirdly and-"
"How did your friend get injured?" I asked, mostly to keep focused. "Do you know the weapon?"
"Not off hand, ma'am. He got it while protecting one of the others, and everything was pretty chaotic when we were attacked." Their eyes went dark with pain. "We lost a few."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm used to it, ma'am. At least they went quick, not like my older brother."
"May I ask what happened?"
"He starved himself so that my sister and I could eat instead."
"Oh." My heart panged in sympathy. Thanks to the church, and Arvis, I never went hungry, but I had many patients who had been near death because of starvation. Some made it; others hadn't. "How is your sister?"
"She's married now with kids of her own!" Their face lit up at that. "I work hard to help her out. Her husband is recovering from a bad leg injury. Hopefully it won't cripple him."
"Do you know how he was injured?"
"He's a lumberjack, but the pile shifted and, well… his axe got him instead."
"Did it crack bone or was it just surface?"
"Just surface."
"Keep a close eye on infections. It can sometimes form a pocket underneath the skin." A strange growl caught my ear, but when I looked, I saw nothing. "You'd also have to make sure the wound gets aired out a bit. When he's cleaning it would be a good time."
"I'll let them know when I'm back home." They smiled brightly. "Thank you!"
"It's nothing." I heard another growl, but this time, I caught sight of a large green thing moving in the distance. I felt myself grow cold, a very bad feeling creeping over me. "It's just simple advice."
"Still, though." They continued to smile and lead me. Another growl, though, made me look around again. This time, I caught sight of a winged thing, and knew my feeling was correct. "We're here."
They led me into a quiet camp. There were no signs of dragons, but the bits of armor I picked out reminded me of the dead Thracians. A few looked up from the campfire before looking down, continuing whatever they were doing. They were careful that smoke wouldn't escape the trees. They were careful to keep a small camp. I wondered how they dealt with their dragons, but there was no way I could ask that right now. The messenger led me into a tent set slightly apart from the others, a bit larger as well. Inside was… well, it was Travant. His face was more ashen, and he was propped up on makeshift pillows. The left side of his shirt was a sticky crimson, and he held something loosely in his right hand. I had a feeling I knew what caused that wound now.
"Sir, I found a healer!" the messenger brightly told him. Travant opened his eyes and smiled slightly. It faded when he looked at me. "She's really nice."
"Is she?" Travant asked. His eyes narrowed as he studied me, and then he nodded a dismissal to the messenger. "Continue with your chores then."When they left, Travant sighed, chuckling. "The lad is enthusiastic, but not the brightest." He shifted a little higher against the 'pillows'. "Healing staves are expensive to own and maintain, the same as any good weapon. A simple village healer wouldn't have one unless there happened to be a church attached to it. But there isn't here."
"No, there's not," I murmured. I didn't see a reason to hide it. He already knew. He'd known as soon as I walked in. "Is that what let you put it together so quickly?"
"Partly. I saw you in the camp, tending to a boy wearing Leinster clothes, while the Neir boy and the Vala mage killed some of mine." He smiled slightly. I was more surprised he'd spotted me at all, but the mention of Lex and Azel made me wonder if it was just happenstance. "Even if I hadn't, though… well, you can hide your Mark, but you can't hide the Vala-red hair and the presence of Holy Blood. You must be one of Victor of Velthomer's bastards, and if that's the case, then you'd have to be with Sigurd."
"You're quite clever."
"I have to be." He leaned back against the pillows. Blood seeped out of his side and into the blankets. I wondered if the soldiers had given him all they had, to try and make him comfortable. "Well, you just tell them that there's no helping me."
"…I can't make that assumption until I've actually assessed the injuries." I felt cold. I felt sick. I wondered if this was what Eldigan felt, when he realized just what was happening in Agustria. But I was a healer. I'd told him that. I'd told him what I'd do, so I felt that additional weight on me. "Shirt off so that I can see it better."
"You can't be serious." He frowned. "I'm your enemy."
"I am a healer. I am sworn to tend to everyone's injuries, friend or foe." I glared right back, annoyed at all of this. "If it makes you feel better, yes, I do hate you. I've still got people healing from your spears. I've held the hands of those you've killed. You nearly killed a boy I consider my little brother. Your first assault might've killed a baby, not even a year old yet." I paused when I saw him flinch. "You don't normally go after children, do you?"
"Why the hell do you guys have children in your camp anyway?" He rolled his eyes. It was enough of an answer. "Seems stupid."
"Unfortunately, we were assaulted in the castle, and all of us who remained behind in 'safety' nearly died, including that baby boy. The camp, believe it or not, is actually safer." I sighed, forcing myself to relax. "Regardless, yes, I hate you. Yes, I'm certain I'll regret this later. But I am a healer. I heal people. That is the oath I swore." That is the oath I told Eldigan I would follow, if things ever came into conflict. "So, let me see your injuries before I regret letting you talk long enough to bleed out."
He gave me an unreadable look, but did slowly get his shirt off. I winced when I saw how jagged the injury on his side was. "That wind mage. He's Prince Lewyn, isn't he?"
"Are you wanting an answer or a confirmation?" I knelt beside him and flipped open my pack before studying the wound. The edges of the wound were even worse up close, and while someone had tried their best to clean it, I could see and smell signs of infection. "Regardless, I'm guessing this is from that?"
"Confirmation, mainly. I'd heard the prince was the Forseti Major and I can't think of anyone else who could control the wind that easily." He winced as I prodded around the injury. "But yes, from that. Quan didn't get close enough to tear through me."
"That will explain a lot of the injury." It was gaping, with serious deep damage, and minor superficial spiraling out. It was almost like a tornado had erupted in his side. "I need you to keep your arm up. I have to clean this, and then numb it up."
"For stitching?" He settled his arm on the pillows behind him. "You're going to stitch it?"
"Yes. Though, if you really want, I can attempt to simply use a healing staff, but that could lead to sealing pockets of infection, and you getting a very twisted scar as the skin tried to mend every which way." I gave him my most innocent look before shifting back to the healer mask. "So, I need to stitch the pieces together."
He looked at me skeptically, but didn't fight me as I began cleaning the injury and numbing the area up. The worst was a slight hiss of pain as the infection burned out and he tightened his grip on whatever he was holding.
I thought to ignore it as I prepared my needles and threads for stitching, but his hand loosened as the numbing took effect and I caught sight of what looked to be a clumsily made charm. "What's that?" I asked, nodding to it before settling beside him again and carefully moving the wound so that I stitched this correctly. "Is it a charm?"
"It is," he confirmed. He opened his hand so that I could see it fully. I thought it was meant to be a pair of dragon wings, but honestly, it looked mostly like a lump of wood to me. "Arion just learned how to carve trinkets, and insisted I take it."
"Arion?"
"My son." He smiled softly, rolling the charm in his hand. I found where the edges should line up and began stitching very slowly to keep everything together. "I think Leinster has a little princess about the same age, now that I think about it."
"Altena. She's adorable."
"Most children are, in one way or another." His smile faded as he continued studying the charm. "I hope he's all right in the castle. They better not be letting him getting into everything."
"Would not your wife…?" I trailed off as he tensed. "My apologies for the question, but I do need you to relax." I waited until he did, and set my needle in my lap to clean the injury again and numb it up a little more. "May I ask what happened?"
"A Leinster noble decided to raid a village while she was visiting." He ground his teeth, and again, I had to wait before he relaxed to continue my stitching. "Sorry, a 'rogue knight formerly of Leinster'." He scoffed. "That's always their reaction."
"You don't like Leinster."
"Would you like someone who keeps tariffs on food stuff so high that you have to pick between food or medicine?" He laughed bitterly. "Oh, I'm sorry. You're friends with them."
"I am friends with Quan and Ethlyn, yes. That does not mean I know anything about their policies." I did feel the instinctive urge to defend them, of course. But, honestly, I really didn't know the politics there besides the absolute basics. "Besides, Quan's father is the ruler. I don't know a thing about him."
"That's a very neutral response."
"It's a truthful one. I never expected to leave my little village, so I only paid particular attention to Grannvale's policies. The rest is simply basics that came to me from biased accounts." I frowned as I noticed the skin slipping, and paused to readjust. After a moment of studying, though, I decided to just tie off the thread and begin again with a fresh needle. "I'm used to filtering out gossip."
"Why would a healer be used to that?"
"You would be surprised how many people try to play off beatings with a simple trip or a fall down the stairs." I began stitching again. I was hitting the worst of the wound by now. "You would also be surprised how many people try to play off that no, they didn't follow their grandmother's 'secret' medicine which somehow involved rubbing cow dung into the wound."
"Ha!" He actually shook a bit from the laughter. I had to pause for him to calm down before stiching again. "We had one like that in our infirmary not long ago. Luckily, his sister had the sense to not lie."
"My point is proven." I shifted so that I could try to piece together the skin again. It slipped a lot. "So, what brings you all the way out here, with Gungnir at that, for Chagall? Was the pay that good?"
"It was, and he was idiotic enough to pay most of it up front." He chuckled, shaking his head. I had to move his hair back over his shoulder. "Sorry."
"So, he paid for most of it up front?" I had to fight to keep calm. Gods, I hated Chagall even more. "He truly is playing at war."
"Rather accurate summation. You talk to him?"
"I was friends with Eldigan as well."
"Ah." He fell silent and, surprisingly, actually did look… not quite remorseful. 'Respectful' was closer. "Have to admire his bravery. He walked into that throne room knowing exactly what happened, and he did it with his head held high. He even gave advice to the kid who cut off his head, and removed his cloak to give a better target."
"Strangely, I'm unsurprised." I was also unsurprised by the fact that Chagall hadn't killed Eldigan himself. "I would've thought you'd hate him."
"I didn't know him, and I think the knightly types with honor and the like are hypocrites. But if there was a knight who wasn't, I'd believe it to be him. At the least, being able to accept your death gracefully, getting the last laugh even… that's a rare thing."
"…What were his last words?"
"That Agustria was entering its twilight, the land of knights has lost all its knights." He smirked. "And that Chagall would send Agustria into ruins, but it would rise again, and he'd be completely forgotten as nothing more than a footnote in its history. And that Chagall was going to die soon, so he'd wait for a proper lecture until the afterlife."
"That…" I had to laugh a bit, shaking my head even as I kept my hands steady. "He was definitely Sigurd's friend." I finished the last of the stitching and tied off my thread. "Hold still while I clean and bandage this."
"All right." He brought his other arm up to make it easier on me, and brought both arms down when I tied them off. "Thank you. What do I owe you?"
"Owe?" I frowned heavily. "I do not charge for healing."
"You should. It's a skill."
"I prefer people to worry about their injuries, not how they're going to 'pay' a healer for whatever herbs and charges I use." I sat back on my heels, and used some cloth to wipe the worst of the blood off my hands. "For one thing, I collect everything myself. For another thing, all of my necessities are taken care of, and there are very little things of monetary value I want."
"That so?" His hand slipped under my chin and tilted my face up towards his. I tensed, but maintained my healer mask, staring back as he studied me. "Huh. I didn't think there were 'real' healers anymore. But you actually walk the talk." His hand left my face, but he held my gaze. "That said, it would be untoward to not repay someone for a service."
"Is that so?" My eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to me. I thought of all those that died, all those still injured, from his attack. A second ambush like that… "How much do you have left on that payment Chagall owes you? You won't get it from him. Chagall is going to die fairly soon."
"Not a lot, truthfully. As I said, Chagall was an idiot. I just had to see who he was fighting to make him so very desperate. And, well, the money will set my country well for the next year or so."
"Well, why don't we take that supposed fee from that?" I reached up and took out my hair ornament. I felt a pang of regret, since it was the one Arvis had bought for me before all this trouble in Agustria began. But if I knew Arvis, I knew it was expensive. "We can add whatever this will sell for. I figured it's expensive."
"Now that is a very nice piece." He took it from me and studied it closely. "Real gold. Fine craftsmanship. It probably costs as much as a very good sword."
"So, take it, and the healer fee."
"You're hiring us?" He smiled very slightly, respect in his eyes. "And for what job?"
"It's simple. You stay out of the battle. You don't lose more of your soldiers. I don't lose more of mine. That injury…" I pointed to his bandages. "That will actually heal. I do highly recommend you just rest for that, by the way. Too much stress on that wound will rip it all open again. But so long as you rest, it should heal up with a scar."
"I see." He laughed, soft and low, and he leaned forward just slightly to look me better in the eye. "Very well. I think I'll accept that job." He shifted back and rested against the pillows again. "Ask for Donald. That's the boy. He'll escort you back."
"Thank you." I gathered my things and stood up, stepping out of the tent. Every single soldier's attention focused on me as I did, and I made sure to smile. Most smiled back in relief, and a few actually took my hands and kissed them in thanks. The messenger boy, Donald, happily escorted me back, thanking me a thousand and one times. I smiled and reassured him, though inside, I was hurting.
I knew I'd have a lot of things to apologize for in the future. But, at the same time, I was a healer. Just walking away… I couldn't do it. When I saw someone hurt, I tended to them. I had always been that way. That was why I was a healer in the first place. A healer made an oath to always be neutral, while on the job. That's just what happened here. Walking away would've broken my heart just as much.
But I still felt horrible. This was not a situation where I could've won.
When I returned to camp, I said I was tired and rested for the remainder of the day. Chulainn could tell something was wrong, but didn't push; instead, he simply let me cling to him and sleep. Sigurd asked about what happened to my hair ornament; I lied and said I must've lost it. Ethlyn asked about the blood; I told her I had to stitch a messy wound. It was almost a relief when, a few days later, Sigurd launched his assault on Silvail because, then, I was simply too busy to think.
"Shanan and Seliph are still in their section, Alicia," Finn reassured me once the first couple of waves of injured calmed. I smiled at him in return and continued to scrub my hands. "He was wondering if he could roll bandages or something?"
"He can cut down some of the clothes, actually," I murmured. He'd been near often enough to see how it was done. "I think he can set up a boiling station safely there too."
"I'll help him set up." Finn left, still limping slightly from his previous injury, and I turned my attention to the wounded. A few had died, but most were holding steady. There were lower numbers than usual, but that was apparently because Chagall simply didn't have a lot of soldiers anymore.
Based on the reports, it was only the fragments of Agustria's army that remained once of the Cross Knights were gone. There had been no sign of Travant or his knights. I wondered if that would continue, or if he was preparing for an ambush.
"Seliph is being particularly playful today," Finn noted as he returned. He shifted his weight, favoring his non-injured side. He was still recovering from his impalement, which is why he stayed with me in the infirmary. "But I think he'll settle down for his nap soon."
"I hope so," I replied. It wasn't the best of circumstances, but really, there wasn't really a safer place for Seliph at the moment. "How are you doing, Finn?"
"I'm a bit worried, but nothing substantial. The battle seems to be going well, and easier than expected."
"Indeed." I smiled, though. "But that wasn't exactly what I meant. How are you doing with Lachesis, Finn?"
"Th-that's…!" Finn went bright red, and I laughed, unable to help it. "We… um…"
"You lent her your horse when she headed off."
"I did. I knew she'd have difficulties keeping up, and she's a good rider." He shrugged. "We're… doing?"
"Have you kissed?"
"Alicia!" His face went even redder. "That's…"
"Right, right, a gentleman does not kiss and tell." I giggled and he sulked. "I'm sorry. I'm happy for you two."
"Lord Quan laughed for three straight minutes, while Lady Ethlyn gushed and cooed." Finn switched his lance to his other hand to rotate his wrist. "Then I had Lex asking if I needed tips."
"Oh, goodness." I kept on giggling, and he kept on sulking. "Well, we're all simply happy for you and-"
A loud thump-clang noise startled us both and we stepped out of the tent to inspect. I snatched a staff on the way, thinking it was someone injured. While that was true, I certainly didn't expect to come face to face with Chagall. I knew it was him; I remembered him from the 'peace talks' that felt forever ago.
"You, healer girl!" he declared, pointing at me. He had some minor cuts on him, and some blood seeping out of the joints of his armor. He carried two weapons: a silver blade and a fire magic tome. "I demand that you heal me!"
"Pardon?" I replied, not quite processing. But then it did, and I closed my eyes to resist groaning. It seemed life was very determined to test my oath lately. This was twice now. "Let me get my things."
"Alicia, what are you doing?" Finn hissed. He snagged my arm as I stepped back inside to gather my bandages and medicines. Chagall, meanwhile, was smirking. "This is-"
"The first promise I ever made, the first oath I ever swore, was to heal people, Finn. Friend or foe, an injured is an injured. Healers are neutral." I gave him the most stoic look I could. "Please, guard me?"
"As if I'd leave you alone with this psychopath." He glared at Chagall; Chagall promptly squeaked. "But-!"
"At the moment, he is my patient." I felt horrible, but I couldn't… I couldn't break this oath. It was like how Eldigan swore to never take the throne. I understood his pain all too well, now. "Please." Finn didn't say a word, but he did nod curtly. I stepped inside and returned quickly, healer's mask in place. "Drop your weapons, Chagall."
"What?!" Chagall yelped. He glared at me. "You make demands of me?"
"I do not heal anyone while they hold a weapon in hand. I am a healer, not a field medic," I explained calmly. "I need you to remove your armor as well. I cannot tend to your injuries through your armor."
"Tch… ordering a king…" Still, Chagall did as I bade, and sat on a nearby barrel while I took stock of his injuries. "Stupid mongrel. Pretty, though."
"I am of Crusader descent the same as you, Chagall." I kept perfectly stoic as he glared. "If you would rather I not treat your injuries, though-"
"No, treat them!" His glare deepened, and I continued my check. I almost laughed at how superficial they were. It was as if he'd gotten a taste of a real battle, and ran away. "Well? Heal me up!"
"That is what I'm doing." Deciding that a healing staff would be far too much for these, I began cleaning and bandaging the injuries. Chagall muttered more things, but I ignored him. A couple of growls from Finn hinted they were not anything I'd want to hear anyway.
At some point, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and saw Finn shift protectively in front of me. I glanced over and saw it was a trio of familiar people. Lachesis all-but-snarled at us, eyes burning with untamed fury. Quan, for his part, frowned, looking horribly confused. Both, however, were held back by Sigurd, who actually caught my eye and smiled. His eyes held only trust and understanding, and I had to admit, that did wonders to soothe my nerves.
Since Chagall's injuries were so minor, though, I was done quickly and so, stepped back. "That is the last of them," I informed him with a polite smile. He still glared at me. "I would recommend that you rest for the day, and do not put your armor back on. You will stress the wound, and make my work for naught."
"I… what?" Chagall asked. His eyes widened when he saw me walking away. "What are you…?"
"You asked to be healed. I have treated you, and now, I am releasing you. You are no longer my patient. Is that not a good thing?" I sweetened my smile and gathered my things. "Most are happy to no longer need a healer's services."
"I… you…!" He gestured at the bandages. "Staff!"
"Your injuries were not harsh enough for me to use a staff, nor are they bad enough that I would put you under observation." I bent down to take the tome and blade he'd dropped. The blade was heavy, so I let it drag on the ground as I returned to the infirmary tent. "Finn, if you can confiscate his armor like we do with the others? I truly don't want him wearing it on those injuries."
"You can't do this!" Chagall's voice went rather high. The look on his face was some combination of disgust, pride, and very real fear. "You're-!"
"I cannot stay out here. I have others to tend to, and surely, you cannot expect me to let you inside the tent." I glanced at Finn, curious as to what he was doing. He was obeying me with the biggest grin I'd ever seen him wear. "The soldiers inside want you dead, so it would be very bad for your health. It would be bad for them as well, to stress their healing wounds."
"You bitch! You tricked me!"
"You asked for healing. I gave it to you, because that is my duty." I set the tome and blade just inside the infirmary tent's entrance, and then snagged one of the staves resting there. "I do not know what else you were expecting. I have no place of sanctuary, of course. You could try a proper church for that." I turned slightly to face him. His face was turning purple with anger. But I kept my mask on. "I am a simple healer attached to an army, and I tend to all who come to me to the best of my abilities. You are treated."
"Bitch!" Chagall snarled and tried to lunge for me. He stumbled and slipped in the mud, though. "I should-"
"Silence." I brought Deirdre's Silence up and focused its magic onto Chagall. His voice left him instantly and he stumbled, clawing at his throat. "You are being too noisy. You are disturbing my patients, patients I must return to now that you are no longer in need of my skills." I set Silence back in the corner and walked inside. "Finn, drop the armor with the others, will you? I need you to check on Shanan and Seliph for me."
I looked back only once, just as Finn got the armor inside. Chagall had collapsed, tears of fear streaming down his face as he desperately tried to say something. But Lachesis advanced on him with a vicious smirk, bloody sword in hand, and there was no mercy in her eyes, even as he tried to push himself away. Sigurd and Quan followed her with their own weapons, and their intentions were very clear.
I let the tent flap flutter shut and started tending the worst wounded again. I felt bad, leaving him to his fate as I did. But it was not the first time a patient had died shortly after I'd healed them, and it would not be the last. That was what it meant, being a healer during a war.
"Did you really have to rip him apart, Sigurd?" I scolded as I tied a bandage around his bicep. With Chagall's death, Silvail happily let us 'conquer' it, and so, we had all moved within. Lachesis and Ethlyn took up my infirmary duty, so I went to tend to Sigurd in his study. "Seriously?"
"It was unintentional?" Sigurd half-defended sheepishly. He sat perfectly still in his chair while I worked. "It was more of 'Lachesis gets the first strike, while Quan and I follow', but we put more force into it than expected? Lachesis and Quan were just as surprised as I was."
"I wonder if they were as surprised as me. I was not expecting to step onto someone's intestines when I checked on you three." The smell alone had caused a few of my patients to start vomiting. A few had ripped stitches because of it. "But I shall forgive you this time, I suppose. I'm sure you three couldn't hold back your anger."
"No. I mean; I was doing a good job, until he ran away." Sigurd made a face and I moved to the injury he had on his lower arm. "I did lose it a little when I noticed he was running for the camp again."
"I wonder how he knew I would've treated him." I thought Travant might've told him, but I wasn't sure why he would. I did appreciate that he'd kept his word and stayed out of the battle. Erinys had, in fact, reported seeing them fly to the south, out of Agustria. "Thank you, by the way."
"Huh?" He tilted his head curiously. "For what?"
"You were the only one of you three not angry." I tied off his last of his bandages and rested my hands in my lap. "Thank you for that."
"You're a healer. You heal people. That's the first thing I learned about you, Alicia." He smiled sweetly and shrugged his shirt back on. "You answered my questions with frank honesty, was as calm as a still lake, and despite being absolutely exhausted, offered your help to heal my injured. After spending who the hell knows how long tending to the survivors of Jungby castle. Healing people is what you do."
"Even if you hate them, Sigurd?"
"Well, there's nothing that says I couldn't kill him after you healed him?" His smile became a little darker, but I could not blame him. "I mean; I figured you'd stop us if there was."
"I suppose." I found myself laughing, relaxing finally. "His wounds were minor. Did he truly run?"
"He did. The coward couldn't even die like a king." His smile faded and he looked out the window, to the sun setting on the horizon. "Agustria… it has lost its royal line. There's no one to take over. I suppose you could say it fell."
"But it can rise again. I'm sure that's what Eldigan believed, in the end. Perhaps that's why he chose the path that would take his life. Perhaps he felt he had to fall with Augustria, so that someone better, more qualified, could help it rise again." I rested a hand on his shoulder. "There is always some sort of light in the dark, Sigurd. It might take us a while to find it, but that doesn't mean it's not there."
"True." He laughed suddenly. "Didn't you used to lecture me on being too optimistic?"
"I can see that." I shrugged. "You're not yourself if you're not looking forward, Sigurd. You are a reckless one sometimes, but that's just who you are. You cannot turn your back on those who need your help, and you are a light for them."
"Thank you." He smiled again. It was softer and sadder than his 'normal' one, and I wished Deirdre were here to cheer him up. But she wasn't, so my words would have to due until then. "Am I cleared?"
"Light duty, and I will be vexed if you stress this arm." I stood up and brushed off my skirt. "Go play with Shanan. He was very helpful today."
"I will, as soon as I go through these reports." He grinned and I laughed. "Go rest, Alicia. You need it."
"I'll try." I shut the door behind me and walked down the hall, smile fading as I saw a few soldiers give me dirty looks as I passed. I expected that. Words spread quickly. But it did still hurt.
I did my best to ignore them, though, and made it to my room, marked by a ribbon, just as Deirdre always did. I smiled tiredly at it, feeling the urge to weep. If Deirdre was here, she'd make me laugh. She might not have understood, but she would've trusted me, just as Sigurd did. But she wasn't here, so I closed my eyes to stave off the tears and walked inside. To my surprise, though, Chulainn wasn't here, and I almost panicked before realizing he likely just went on patrol or something. I tried to not feel disappointed. I'd hoped to have a comforting hug or something, so I wondered if I should head to the infirmary and work until I no longer need a hug.
But Lachesis and Ethlyn had made it clear they wanted me to rest for the night, and I wasn't certain they weren't a little mad at me either. So, instead, I decided to indulge my self-pity and take a very long bath instead. I wasn't one for long baths typically, mostly just long enough to scrub down, but this time, I just let myself relax in the tub, letting the warm water take away my aches little by little. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, glad that all of this was finally over. It was probably not a very long campaign, compared to our last two, but it felt like it had taken years.
The door opening made me sit up and, after scrubbing the last bit of dirt, I got out and wrapped a towel around myself, using a second one to try and dry my hair. "Welcome back," I murmured when I saw Chulainn. He was unbuckling his armor, but he paused long enough to smile. That smile made everything feel better. "Is everything clear?"
"Seems so," he replied. He got the last of his armor off and came over to kiss me. "I would've thought you'd be in the infirmary."
"Lachesis and Ethlyn are handling it for the night, so I opted for a bath instead."
"I guess letting you rest so that you can explain in the morning why you tended to Chagall's injuries." He gave me a fondly exasperated look, taking the towel I was using to dry my hair from me so that he could play with the strands. "I have had no few people demanding me for answers on that one."
"I'm sorry, Chulainn." I snagged his hand to kiss his palm. His fingers twitched on my cheek. "But, I had to. I feel horrible enough walking away and leaving him to die when he was tended to. I'd sent soldiers with worse injures to fight. So, I mean..."
"I know." He leaned down and pressed his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and let myself relax again. He knew. He understood enough. That was enough for me, especially now. "It's just who you are. It's your job."
"I'll be trying to explain this for a very long while, I'm sure." I smiled warmly at him, giving him my silent thanks, before shyly slipping my fingers under his shirt. "But at the moment, I am really hoping to relax."
"Really?" He smiled back. His breath quickened as my hands traveled up his abdomen. "What were you thinking, exactly?"
"I suppose that depends. Should I bother getting dressed?"
"Mmm, no." He closed the distance between us and kissed me fiercely. "Not yet, anyway." He leaned down and kissed my neck. I gasped, already breathless. "Maybe later."
I was rather grateful Ethlyn healed me up. I was very, very grateful.
Notes on Lachesis:
The 16-year-old princess of Noldion, skilled in swords and staves. Wanted to learn how to heal to assist her brother.
Her Holy Mark is on her lower back.
Not the most experienced fighter, but gains more with each battle. She seeks the title of Master Knight now.
Courting Finn and enjoys teasing him silly. Healing from her brother's death.
Author's note: Chagall is dead, Chagall is dead. Though FE4 doesn't bring it up, FE5 makes some mentions that the Leinster-Thracia conflict is a lot greyer than originally thought. Thracia is like Ilia in FE6/FE7, Jehanna in Fe8, and like Nohr in FE14, being a nation that finds it hard to grow food and thus has a focus on combat (mercenaries and/or conquest). Travant's wife is never mentioned in game. Chagall is a 'baron' in game, an armored-looking class, and wields a Bolganone and a droppable Silver Blade. He's a rather mediocre boss, with only high HP and defense to make him any sort of threat. Eldigan's last words are based a bit on his in-game dialogue and the Oosawa manga.
Next Chapter – Interlude, Silvail
