Some medic tents were worse than others, some had males with giant gaping holes in their sides so big that healers had to hold them down while they tried their best to save them. Kol grabbed a bandage from a basket and found her way out. The screams, she decided. Were not something she wanted to hear. She shivered.
She was fortunate to come out with only the wound she had. Calum walked beside her surveying the bustle of the camp. They found there way out into the woods with the trees and woodland mammals scurried across as they found a fallen tree to sit on. Her legs were stiff and sore as she sat, Calum sat beside her making the tree creak. The sounds of the quite forest were comforting in the late daylight.
Mor walked over with urgency in her step. Kol knew she'd already sensed she was hurt, Kol's heart hurt as Mor smiled lightly. She looked as if she was going to embrace Kol but thought against it. Putting her hands by her side. Her blonde hair was in a fashionable tumble.
"You're okay."
"You need to be more careful," Mor paused looking down clenching her jaw she looked stressed to be away from the battle. But, as she did, she gathered herself and looked up steely, "give me the bandage."
Kol removed her breastplate hesitantly, it pulled at the wound making her hiss. Calum stroke her back calmly behind her. Mor didn't blink at the blood and started cleaning it. Calum had come out of the battle with bruises. He was undeniably better in battle than she, skilled with a sword.
"I hope the Male who did this is in a lot worse shape," Kol snorted closing her eyes and nodded.
"Definitely."
Mor tapped her knee, Kol opened her eyes slowly blue meeting brown. She thought of life after, maybe she'd garden and eat to her heart's content. She could almost smell the spices, fragrance of wildflowers, and sleepy orchards. Of course, she might head back to the Steppes to one of the camps. Stay with Richon and continue their comradery into a quiet life. Kol had already decided that Hewn would not be where she'd end up. She wondered what Mor thought of the thought of golden wheatfields and green woods.
"Hold your shirt would you?"
Kol lifted the cloth covering her torso letting Mor wrap around tightly before tieing it off. Kol said nothing as Calum left, she assumed to check on Richon who'd been limping earlier.
As Mor worked she cleared her throat.
"I don't want you to fight tomorrow," She reached up and cupped Kol's cheek, her hand felt warm and soft, comforting.
"You know it's not that simple-."
"It is that simple. Just simply leave, sit it out we've enough Males between our armies," Mor looked annoyed and slightly sad. Kol knew her getting hurt was grating on Mor but it wasn't simple. Kol couldn't have someone dictate whether she'd be out of the fight, "I know you-"
"You don't know me," Kol stood up and hissed, Mor, let her arms fall to her side her shoulders slumped, "We're Mates, but I realize I know nothing about you, and you know nothing about me."
"Let me learn," Mor brushed a piece of hair out of her eye as she begged her eyes wide, "please."
"After."
"After what? You die?" She huffed she stood up roughly knocking the bowl of water she'd been using to clean, "You've already been hurt."
"I'll live," Kol crossed her arms raising her voice, sure it hurt, but the fact was she was fighting. The stress of the war ground on both of them. It remained her wish to fight.
"And then what? Do you die tomorrow? Absolutely not."
"I won't," Kol leaned in putting her hand on Mor's waist, Mor tensed for a moment before welcoming it. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I promise."
"I wish you'd listen to me."
"You give really good hugs," Kol muttered holding tightly she squeezed her eyes were glassy and her voice was laced with exhaustion, "Fuck, I won't die tomorrow I promise you."
From a few meters away a tall Male with a quiet demeanor watched them. Shadows licked his boots as he walked towards the couple. He had an elegant face and black hair that seemed void of life, an Illyrian but not the same as she. He walked towards them to meet them in the wood. His voice was smooth and dark his eyes betrayed nothing. A shadow singer.
"Mor, Cas has asked for your time," Mor looked up breaking the hug and straightened up slightly she hid a rosy flush.
"Sure," she nodded with slight disdain and turned back to Kol who stood and stared with tired interest at the shadow singer. "We'll talk before dawn breaks tomorrow."
Kol nodded as Mor was escorted away by Azriel. He followed behind her acting every way a shadow. Kol had wondered what the Court of Dreams would look like. She wondered before if they'd appeared different to how she had pictured them. The version she got was different for Azriel, she didn't expect them all to look so human in away.
While everyone was undeniably more beautiful than any human with their fae features. That was what they were. Beautiful, but the same in so many ways.
She wandered back into the camp searching for Richon or Calum. She weaved through Summer Court males and Lord Keir's men. Peeking in through the damaged bloody cloth she found Richon who clutched his leg with nervous hands. His breath ragged from the pain his dark hair was limp. The medic tent was cleaner than the others, only slightly. Cots ran up in rows with patients, there was a faint smell of distant herbs the wafted over the tent that otherwise reeked.
Kol found she was used to the smells now.
The healer stood after examining it, she shook her head and made a straight path to Kol, Calum in tow. She looked like a healer from the Dawn Court, her apron was stained the same color of her hands, dark maroon. She rubbed them as if trying to rid her self of it. Her hair was frazzled and knotted back away from her face. She looked tired.
They were all tired Kol thought.
"His sprained it very badly, I know you Illyrian are ones to fight bed rest. But he shouldn't be fighting tomorrow if he cannot walk," She huffed tensely, "Excuse me, you can see your friend now."
She rushed away to help the next person who came into the tent screaming. Kol thought her strong to be so confident in the face of gore. Kols side throbbed under the bandages.
Calum checked on her his eyes looked weary, "Are you good?"
"Yeah," she said, "have you got any water?"
Calum nodded hand her his flask she put some on her hands and tried to crudely wash her face of grime. She desperately wanted a bath to wash her sore and weary bones. She raked water through her hair shaking it as they walked back over to Richon who seemed restless sitting in his cot. He smiled seeing them. Kol leaned over and hugged him tightly he smelt like coals and pine that had been muted by the odor of sweat.
"Hey."
"Hi," Richon smiled before looking at both of them narrowing his hazel eyes sitting up, "I am fighting tomorrow, don't listen to whatever bullshit that healer told you, we all heal fast, I'll be running by tomorrow night."
The thought that he'd be willing to fight enraged her, he could barely walk how well would he do during a fight?
"Greenes, you motherfucker," Kol hissed pulling away hitting his chest lightly she looked into his eyes, they were tired and scared, "No you're fucking not."
Richon mumbled something incoherent, Calum put a hand on her shoulder she looked up.
"He's fighting if he's able, that is the way."
Kol pulled back and took in a breath, she knew she'd just done the same thing to Mor for the same reasoning. She knew it would be unhelpful to yell when she knew that he'd fight until he was unable. He was Illyrian, it was how they worked. Stubborn bastards. She snapped back by pulling herself to her feet as she surveyed him.
"Help me up, Cal?" Richon asked sticking out a hand Calum gripped it and pulled him upright steadying him. The air was colder but hinted at the heat of the summer. Kol knew rain was coming. She had a doubt about Richon's ability to take care of himself but knew he was capable of\ he wasn't going to let himself get killed.
Richon bore the smallest amount of weight on his foot making him swear and look up at the greying sky.
"I," he paused, "I got it."
He let his foot come down and he groaned as he hobbled out of the tent out into the bustle of the camp. Calum looked worried as he followed but didn't mention it. Worry was taught as a weakness to a warrior.
They were again rallied to fight, there wasn't as many of them this time.
They marched forward under a large glamour to Kol it felt like a thin film covering atop her, like a clear blanket of magic. It was interesting to feel magic around her, while she had her own, via her siphon it wasn't the same as high fae magic. That seemed to thrum with the power contained within. She carried her pack aswell as a bundle of cloth to the edge of the battle-field.
She considered it was a better position, as the camp was built with her help reconstructing tents and cots. Kol fixed a fire starting on some food, the clouds looked like they were to be upon them soon. Kol thought of the books she'd read so long ago. They grew hazier day by day, knowledge of the battle was something she didn't have in full. She knew it was big, but not what to be afraid of.
The thought of not knowing daunted her.
She wondered if someone really could be brave while afraid.