By Cordelia's estimation, Mark would bleed out in 4 minutes if she didn't help him now. He was laying now across her lap, and she was trying to make sure he wouldn't fall off of Catria. Flying away from the fight she had to dodge the archers attempting to shoot her down, trying to keep the tactician balanced, and made for a forest that was sitting a good way from the fighting.
The Risen did not disappear when Gangral fell, seeming to even increase in numbers since Plegia's defeat. Mark had organized everyone into "cleaning parties" to take care of the groups of fell creatures that were roaming the land. When Cordelia, Mark, Gregor and Virion had made their way across the bridge on the Northroad from the capital, Mark had been ambushed by a detachment of archers. One arrow had caught him in the stomach, and one had grazed his neck, opening a stream of red that was growing with each second. Thinking as fast as she could, the redhead swept Mark up and used a cloth from her satchel to try and ebb the flow coming from his neck.
Easily, the Pegasus landed in the midst of the small forest and allowed Cordelia and her passenger to dismount. The pair made their way to a tree, were Mark fell with his back onto a tree and slid down it. Now sitting with the cloth against his neck, his free hand now grabbed at the arrow that stuck out of him, and attempted to pull with no progress. Giving up, Mark let his arm fall, his pale face turning down as his head drooped.
Cordelia searched through her pack for a vulnerary or tincture and found none. Cursing, she tried to lift the tactician's head and keep him conscious. But all the bottles she had were empty. Mark groaned in pain while Cordelia groaned in frustration. She was going to lose Mark and it was because she forgot to restock this one time. What would Captain Phila have thought if-
Wait. Phila. Cordelia sprung to her feet and ran back to her Pegasus. She remembered, whenever Phila oversaw her unit's training, that whenever someone was injured that the captain would offer to heal them on the spot. Experienced knights could wield staves, she had explained. Ever since, Cordelia had packed a basic staff on Caria's saddle with the hope of one day learning how to use it.
She untied a few knots and the shaft of wood fell from its place, hitting the ground with a thunk. Quickly picking it up, she ran back to where Mark sat, now nearly motionless. His hand that held the bloody cloth was now dropped at his side, some blood still trickling now from his neck. Cordelia knelt beside, staff in hand. She pled with Naga for a brief moment to help her, before holding the staff in both hands and bowing her head. Oh Gods, she didn't know what she was doing. What do you do with a staff? Do you say something? Do you chant? The knight just sat there, only moving to place her hand on the man in front of her's shoulder. Tear's started to form in her eyes at the thought of not being able to save her friend.
It felt like they were there for minutes, motionless, before Cordelia heard a heavy cough come from in front of her. She lifted her head in time to lock eyes with Mark, slightly more color in his face than just a few moments ago. The wound on his neck was gone, the dried blood the only evidence of anything having been there before. A smile crossed the Yllissian woman's face, as her fear turned into joyous tears. She had done it, just like Phila had.
"Th-…thanks, Cordelia. Now…can you get this arrow out of me?"