"Must you be so aggressive?" Viren snaps as the Doctor-In-Training dabs at his wounds, fingers clenching around the armrests of his seat.
"My apologies, Lord Viren," Mathias smirks, keeping his eyes on the task at hand. "Did you want me to bring Lady Lissa in here to hold your hand?" he teases.
The mage chuckles. "If anything she would probably chop off my hand." He sighs, eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. "Things weren't too bad after my departure, I hope."
Mathias shrugs, dumping another batch of bloodied rags into a bucket. "Things weren't too different." He wrings out a clean towel from a second bucket and gently wipes around the lacerations on Viren's arm. "Soren was off playing crown guard, for the most part. Claudia was still a happy child, and Lady Lissa's still doing her best."
A fond smile forms on Viren's lips. "Yes, the children are quite a handful." The apprentice nods and a comfortable silence falls between them. Viren lets his thoughts wander, imagining how his children would react to seeing him tomorrow.
Soren would no doubt greet him with the unparalleled enthusiasm of a six-year-old child. He was a chatty boy too, so Viren knew to prepare himself for a bombardment of questions about Xadia. He eyes the dragon plushie sitting on his work desk, a gift he picked up from Duren on the way to Xadia, and considers making a wooden sword for his son as well. It would be good practice for the future captain of the crown guard.
Claudia, on the other hand, was a little more difficult to place. Though his daughter was still young, she had clearly picked up the duality of her mother: stubborn and fussy, then cheery and bright all in the same breath. He'd like to imagine that their reunion would be as seamless as it would be with Soren, but it would probably take a little more persuasion for both his wife and daughter to forgive him for his decision. Perhaps I should have gotten them gifts as well, he ponders.
Mathias is just about done by the time they hear footsteps coming down the hall. "Ah, perfect timing." He starts preparing for his next patient and Viren draws a deep, audible breath as he buttons up his top.
The doors push open and the trio shuffles in. Adriel heads over to the seat Mathias is gesturing to, Amaya pulls up a chair, taking a seat by the door, and Sarai remains standing with her arms crossed. "Viren," she greets curtly.
"Sarai," he says slowly. Adriel's movement as he interprets for Amaya briefly captures his eye, but he wills himself not to look away from the former General. "I understand that you're upset—"
"Upset?" Sarai sputters. "I don't even know how to begin telling you how absolutely furious—" She cuts herself off, pausing to close her eyes and exhale. When they open, she turns to face Viren. "My stance on this mission has been clear since the day I found out. I expected the worst, but even that didn't include this." She leans over so her piercing gaze is in line with his. "So tell me, Viren, was this staff worth it?" she questions, keeping her voice low.
He matches her glare as he answers. "Let me show you." He pushes himself up, ignoring Mathias's protests, and hobbles over to his desk. He then rifles through one of his drawers and produces two vials containing a luminescent green fluid. After downing the contents of a single vial, he utters a familiar, haunting incantation.
He pulls up the hem of his shirt, revealing a long gash across his abdomen among other minor cuts and bruises. They glow an eerie purple and rapidly heal, the raw, open wounds transforming into scabs within seconds.
Sarai and Amaya exchange looks. They were well aware of the healing properties of dark magic. It was common practice for military personnel to approach the mage for a cure to their various ailments if they did not respond quickly enough to his wife's treatments. Even though the sisters chose not to partake in this practice, his display was still nothing new to anyone in the room.
"Adriel," Viren's voice regains their attention. "Please remove your armor."
His command is met with a conflicted look on her husband's face. "I promise it's not as bad as it looks. It's only this way because we had a rough ride back," he says to no one in particular, looking down as he slowly took off his shoulder and chest plates, then the top of his uniform beneath it.
Amaya hisses, and Sarai presses her hand to her lips, the shock rendering her completely numb.
His torso was a mosaic of a muted blue from his ruptured veins and angry red of the second-degree burns that littered his body. There was a glossy sheen over his injuries, likely from the blisters that had popped on his journey home. He had some cuts and scrapes, but most heart wrenching of all was the deep stab wound situated right below his left collar bone. It was meant to be the killing blow, that Sarai was sure of. By some miracle, the assailant has missed, but the realization of just how close she was to losing her husband was enough to bring her to her knees.
Amaya rushes forward, holding her sister up. "How…" she begins to sign, but she hesitates. Her mind is racing with so many questions, she's not even sure where to start.
"We were ambushed," Adriel defends weakly. "Viren was able to perform a healing ritual on me, but we didn't have enough to prevent… this." He winces as if only now realizing the extent of the damage.
Viren wordlessly walks over and hands him the second vial. Adriel takes it and swallows the fluid with a grimace. He'd undergone the ritual enough times to be familiar with the taste that touched his tongue, but there was no way he'd ever get used to the bitterness of grasshopper goo. He shudders.
He looks up and the staff they stole from Xadia is now positioned right in front of him with Viren holding it up. Tightening his grip on the staff, Viren recites the spell, and Adriel's wounds radiate a purple light, significantly stronger than what they had witnessed on the mage.
Sarai feels nauseated watching his healthy skin almost… slither up to the blistered sites, as if there were flexible strips of cloth being pulled over them. The bruises on his body were yellowing out and the stab wound was starting to shift as if his muscles were writhing.
Adriel lets out a strangled cry, pressing a closed fist over the open puncture on his shoulder. "All part of the process," Viren assures through gritted teeth, his stance unwavering. Adriel leans his head back and lowers his fist with a pained groan, allowing the others to see his muscle fibers rejoin and pull together like tiny vines. The injury finally closes to form a pink scar, and Viren allows his form to relax.
The final results stunned everyone into silence, Viren included. He had expected the spell to work better with the staff, but not to this degree. The man before him was still covered in a thin sheen of serum, now joined by sweat. He seemed a little drowsy based on the way his head leaned to the side and his eyelids drooped, but otherwise appeared relatively healthy. Most of the blisters were healed over, and although there was still some bruising, the most pressing lesion on his shoulder was gone.
When the mage recovers, he speaks. "Now do you see? The elves and dragons banished us from the land our ancestors called home, left us to fend for ourselves against the elements. This—" He brandishes the staff as he turns to face the sisters. "This allows us to level the playing field. This could save our kingdom—our people." He holds out a hand to Sarai. "Now do you see why obtaining this staff was of utmost importance?"
Sarai stares blankly at his outstretched fingers, not making any moves to respond. Amaya, on the other hand, had her eyes trained on his face. He notices and raises an eyebrow. "Your eyes," she signs simply before pointing to the reflective surface of Adriel's breastplate resting on the ground.
Viren, curious, picks up the piece of armor and holds it up to his face. The fully black eyes of his reflection stare back at him, looking as though his pupils had expanded well past his iris. He brings a hand to his cheek, perhaps to check that it was truly himself that he was looking at.
"It…" His voice falters as he fights to keep it devoid of emotion. He doesn't look away. "It's all part of the process."
Lissa wakes up the following day to the sound of squealing toddlers. She stretches with a moan and takes her time sitting up—until she feels a tug on her long blonde hair halfway up. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and peers down to see her son sprawled on the sheets of her bed. With a lopsided smile, she tries to free her locks from his grasp… which only manages to rouse him.
Seeing no point in subtlety, Lissa scoops him up and wraps him in a tight hug. "Good morning, Sor-Bear."
"G'morning, mommy," he yawns, releasing her hair and returning her hug with all the strength he could muster.
Just then, two tiny bodies join them on the mattress, hand in hand. "Mommy mommy mommy mommy!" Claudia shrieks. "Callum's here, Callum's here!" Callum matches her energetic bounces, excitedly repeating after her to the best of his ability.
Lissa laughs, despite a headache forming due to the loudness of the children. Callum's liveliness was a pretty clear indication that the events of the previous night have not affected his well being. She still wants to check him, though, just to be sure.
She places Soren back onto the bed and holds her hands out to Callum. "Callum darling, will you come here, please?" Claudia nudges the tot in the direction of her mother, but Soren drapes himself over his mother's lap before Callum reaches her.
"I'm here, mommy!" he announces with a goofy grin, his blue eyes bright and alert.
Before Lissa has a chance to respond, Claudia shoves Soren away. "You're not Callum!" she yells, yanking the youngest of the three and pushing him into her mother's arms.
Soren elbows his sister. "Don't push me, Claudia!" Claudia starts screaming, Soren continues to reprimand her, and Callum wails, probably overwhelmed by all the stimulation so early in the morning.
You and me both, my boy, Lissa mentally groans.
She rubs her face and gets off the bed, carrying Callum with her in one arm. She firmly grips Soren's forearm, giving him a stern look. The child freezes. "Soren, do not push your sister. Say sorry to Claudia." His protests are met with a glare and he eventually yields. His mother releases him.
"Sorry, Claudia," he pouts, but she doesn't hear him even though her screams have reduced to tears. He looks up at his mom for guidance, but she's pacing now, rocking Callum in an attempt to soothe him. His frown morphs into a look of determination and he crawls closer to his sister. "Claudiaaaaa." He smooshes her cheeks between his hands and tilts her face so their eyes meet. "I'm sorry!"
She peers at him through a watery gaze, her squished cheeks forcing her lips into a pout. "That hurt! That hurt right here!" She points at her sternum.
He releases her. "But. I said. I'm sorry. Claudia!" he whines, lifting and smacking the blanket onto the bed to punctuate his words. There's a pause… then his eyes widen as an idea crosses his mind. "Snuggle party!" He lifts the blanket once again and encases his baby sister in it. She squeals as he wraps his arms and legs around her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
The duo is laughing now, and little Callum chortles along in Lissa's arms. She sits back down on the bed and snatches her literal bundles of joy into a hug, making sure to include Callum in their little cuddle fest. "Everyone alright now?" she asks, and the children respond with a chorus of "Uh-huh"s. "Perfect." She pulls away, brushing Claudia's hair off her face. "Now, why don't we all get ready so we can see what everyone else is up to?"
Soren leaps off the bed first, his grin never leaving his face. Claudia follows shortly after but not without grabbing her mother's hand, declaring that she was going to show Callum how to brush his teeth.
Hello again!
Hope ya'll enjoyed chapter 2 as much as I enjoyed writing baby Soren. Ugh what a cutie.
Next chapter will be up on 08/08/20~