Interlude – Duty

With Crown Prince Munnir's death, Marpha surrenders without further fight. The people were cordial, though it did nothing to hide the fear in their eyes or quaver in their voices. The fear softened ever so slightly when they realized the wounded we first brought were their own. Gradually, the fear turns to confusion as their fellows told of how we'd rode back to save them, of how Lord Sigurd promised to parley with Third Prince... with Crown Prince Jamke. Their moods even lightened when the first wave of refugees arrived from Genoa, ahead of the bulk of the army, and they learned of how we'd protected and saved so many, even at terrible costs to ourselves.

You'd think it would be something to celebrate, but I find it all mad. I do my best to not let it show, but the shadows engulfing Verdane are increasingly uncomfortable and disconcerting. Yet what else could we do? What else could I do? As Lord Sigurd said, we have to learn the cause behind the sudden assault, for all those who suffered. As for me, I cannot leave them to hurt. I cannot leave them to die. Lord Sigurd feels the same.

I suppose we simply do as our morals, conscience, and duty dictates. It's... all we can do, isn't it?

"Necro... what? Fasci-what?" Mister Dew blinked at me slowly, trying to parse out what I'd said.

"Necrotizing fasciitis," I repeated, more focused on my patient than him. I knew by now he wouldn't mind, especially when she'd just returned from surgery. "That is her condition, which is why we had to debride her wound." The sheer amount of necrotic tissue had been near-horrifying. I dared not think of all the blood she had lost in the process, nor of the complications such a large, open wound in her abdomen. Yet if we had not, the infection would've killed her outright.

"It looks like something tried to eat her and spat her out," Mister Dew noted, perched on a stool next to me. He watched me check the bandages, careful not to look my patient in the face. He did that for most of the patients, truthfully. "More than once."

"The infection is sometimes dubbed 'flesh-eating disease', so perhaps you are not far off." Absently, I reached for my staff; Mister Dew passed it to me without a word. "I most definitely will want to check her newborn again, given how much we had to cut away."

"I'll pass the message along." Mister Dew's eyes narrowed slightly. "Did all this really happen because she gave birth, though?"

"It was why she was cut open in the first place." I mentally reviewed what her sister had told us. During a routine check with the midwife, it became clear the baby was in a breech position. For the safety of the child and mother, an emergency surgery was done. A few days later, she began feeling unwell, with a terrible fever and even more terrible pain. By sheer chance, we had arrived in Marpha around the same time, and even more incredibly, she was related to one of the Verdanite soldiers I had personally treated, one of those who did not need to stay in the infirmary. So, when he had returned home and saw her condition, he immediately brought her and her sister here. "The wound became infected. It's not uncommon, particularly with abdominal surgeries."

"Didn't they clean it, though?"

"They did, very well." It had been both baffling and terrifying. The midwife's antiseptics were better than my own, better than anything I'd ever studied, yet the infection had resisted each and every one we used. I'd had to resort to 'burning' it with my magic before anything took. "Unfortunately, though, some infections are very resilient and very stubborn. In those cases, magic must be used." There had been no one who used magic in Marpha until we came. The closest were in a church in a nearby village days away, days my patient simply would not have had.

"That... sucks." That was certainly one way to describe it. "Wait, how did we get to talking about this again?"

"You asked about the uterus in the bucket at your feet." We had to remove it; the infection had already spread to it. It was miracle enough we caught it before it spread to her other organs. Her recovery would be lengthy enough as it was, and still far from guaranteed.

"Oh." Though slightly green in the face, Mister Dew's gaze dropped to it. "Right." There was another long pause. "So, why is it in the bucket? Still in the bucket, rather. Here."

"Sir Arden will take it along with the other limbs and organs we had to remove." Truthfully, I could and would have done so, but Sir Arden insisted and it was helpful since he could take all of them at once. "Then they shall be burned twice and buried." We stuck to that policy for now, though I did wish to speak with the local healers on what they did. I worried on accidentally insulting due to a difference in beliefs and, truthfully, I was curious if they knew a different way.

"There's more?!"

"Please mind your volume, Mister Dew. I'd prefer it if you do not startle our patients."

Perhaps due to morbid curiosity, Mister Dew squeakily asked about the other body parts waiting to be collected, and was more than a little green by the time I finished checking over the new mother. Still, he insisted on remaining with me as I tended to the rest in this infirmary, and kept faithfully at my side when I moved to the next.

As I had feared, many of the Verdanite soldiers had been dreadfully ill. To minimize the chances of it spreading, I had to isolate them in their own infirmary. Part of me felt uneasy about it, but I knew it had to be done. None of them complained, thankfully. Then again, perhaps it was easier on their hearts, to not share an infirmary with those who killed their friends. Regardless, they were separated, and Mister Dew accompanied me faithfully. After the surprise attack, and my stint as a hostage, everyone agreed I was not to roam the halls alone. Usually, either Mister Finn or Lord Oifeye would stay with me, but on days where both were busy, like today, Mister Dew was my escort, though he waited outside whenever I treated the Verdanites. I hated being such a burden; I'd have to work harder to make up for it.

"Yes, this looks much better..." I murmured, carefully cleaning the stump of one former soldier's arm. I remembered treating them in the field, the clotted rags peeling off rotted flesh. We had to cut more of his arm off, sadly, as the gangrene had spread too much, but now, the wound healed well. "You shouldn't need further surgeries, so long as this continues."

"Thank ye, ma'am," he murmured, not looking at me. It was still hard for him to look at the stump. "I... will it be much longer before I can rest at home?"

"I'd like it if you stayed at least another week, since the original infection had been so bad." Done with my cleaning, I carefully bandaged the stump. It couldn't be too loose or too tight, after all, and I'd had few chances to practice during my life at Yngvi. "But should everything progress as it should and you do not catch an illness, I see no reason why you cannot continue your recuperation home. You'll need to see a doctor quite regularly, though."

"Of course." Once the bandage was firmly on, he tucked the stump under the blanket and turned to smile wryly at me. "Might... I ask about the one next to me?" He nodded to the unconscious man laid out in the next bed. "We've known each other since we were small."

"Hmm? Ah..." I hesitated briefly, debating on whether it was proper. Medical history should be kept private. Yet they had to stare at them every day, and I did not doubt they were friends. Perhaps this once... should be fine... "I fear their condition still is not well, though they are stable." I stood and went to check on them, though they had been one of the first I'd tended to. Their breath remained steady, as did their pulse. The terribly deep gash on their side had been cleansed thoroughly, and the wound packed. There were no signs of infection, no fevers or chills. They had simply... been weakened already from exhaustion and malnutrition, and then had lost so much blood. "I fear I cannot give you any definitive answer, but they are not on death's door. They have a chance."

"Better than when ye found us." That certainly was true. I wished the same could be said of all of his fellows, but alas, I could not. Some, such as the one with a hole in their neck or the half-crushed skull, had not made it. The damage had been too severe, the bleeding too great. It had been all I could do to ease their pain as they passed. "His daughter turned two not long ago. He had me carve her a little talisman for protection." He smiled bitterly. "Maybe I should've carved one for him too."

"...Perhaps it is protecting him anyway." I was not sure what to say. "I imagine she wishes to see her father again, after all." How did one continue a conversation? My time in the army reminded me of just how little I'd spoken with anyone over the years. Most simply told me what was wrong, what was needed, and did not speak to me further.

Thankfully, I did not need to continue trying. A sudden yelp outside caught my ear and I went to investigate. I peered around the doorframe with a frown, worried someone had tripped and fallen, but when I saw the source, I... I could only stare. My words, my voice, froze in my throat. After all, the cause was... it was...

"Verdanite scum!" The cause was some of our soldiers screaming at some of the wounded Verdanite soldiers. I knew they were wounded; the bandages they wore screamed it. More to the point, I recognized them as some of the lesser wounded, those whose injuries and health allowed them to go home with the promise of returning for check-ups. One of them tried to shield the others, the same one who had first requested Lord Sigurd to allow them to assist. "How dare you even-"

I didn't hear the rest. I was certain it was something which suited the rage twisting their expression, and vaguely, I realized I recognized him too. He was a farmer in Yngvi, one whose daughters had been among the many captured. In fact, one of his daughters had been the one who'd dissociated from everything, with her sister crying herself to sleep in my lap. His anger... was understandable. Yet at the same time... at the same time, he pulled back his arm to punch my patient, and I... I...

Without thinking, I got in the way. Not even a second later, his fist connected with my face. It... hurt. It hurt a lot. My head rang from the blow, and I thought... I thought I tasted blood in my mouth. But it didn't matter. My patients were safe, so it didn't matter.

"I would ask you to refrain from hurting my patients," I whispered, regarding the puncher calmly. My cheek stung. I definitely tasted blood now. "I would also ask you do not cause a commotion outside the infirmary. The wounded and ill need their rest if they are to recover." The puncher opened their mouth, no doubt to shout. I steeled myself for it; I had practice, after all.

However, there was no shouting. Before the puncher could say a single word, utter a single sound, Sir Midir was suddenly there, his face dark with anger and eyes cold with fury. He wrapped his arm around the puncher without a word and dragged him away. When the puncher tried to dig his heels, Sir Midir simply glared and when he turned his glare to the other soldiers, the ones who'd stood with the puncher, they meekly followed with heads bowed.

It took me a couple of blinks to fully comprehend it all, and truthfully, I didn't fully wrap my head around it until Mister Dew appeared at my side. It was only then I realized I hadn't seen him when I first stepped out. I'd been too startled.

"When they started yelling, I figured it better I fetch someone who could carry them off, literally, in case things turned to a fight," Mister Dew explained, frowning worriedly at me. I wondered why, and then worried my patients were still behind me. They weren't. A quick look inside the infirmary showed they'd slipped inside, for the relative safety within. Thank goodness... "I'm too small to do that. For now."

"...I see," I whispered, nodding. I did my best to smile; it hurt, but I hoped it would help ease whatever worried him. "I'd best check on everyone and ensure there are no bruises." It had only been yells when I stepped out, but what had occurred before then?

"Beside your face? You should tend to that first. It's going to swell." Mmm... I supposed it would be distressing for one's healer to have a swollen face. Still, my patients... "I... I can help?"

"Oh, there's no need for that." Between running to fetch Sir Midir and running back, he had to be tired.

"Then... then I'll get Edain to help!" Ah, yes, if Edain could take over the patients for the moment, I could spare a little time.

"Thank you, Mister Dew." I'd best tend to this quickly, though. It was no excuse to shirk. "Let's do that, then."

It should not have taken long to tend to my injury. My jaw was unbroken, my teeth were uncracked, and the blood I had tasted had simply been from an already-healed cut on the inside of my cheek. A little bit of bruise balm and it would heal without issues. However, somehow or another, Lady Ethlyn had learned what had happened... and apparently pitched a right fit. As soon as Lady Edain arrived, she'd appeared from nowhere to literally drag me from the infirmary to her own rooms to tend to it personally.

"Hmm... the swelling is thankfully minimal..." Lady Ethlyn murmured, scrutinizing my cheek. I didn't understand why she insisted on tending to it herself, or why she had not tended to it in the infirmary. "It will definitely bruise, though..." But she had, and here I was, seated in a chair by her desk while she fussed. I couldn't remember the last time someone had fussed over my bruises. I purposely hid them from Arvis to keep from worrying him, and Father Eirik had never... "Shouldn't be hard to hide with make-up, mind." Lady Ethlyn paused then. "Wait, Miss Alicia, do you even wear make-up?"

"...No?" I answered, wondering if that was an issue. It had never been something I was interested in, nor did I ever have someone to teach me. I knew what plants were most often used for cosmetics, of course, but it was simply part of learning their properties. "Some would use them back in Ynvgi, of course, and I had to treat a few for skin allergies because of them. That's the extent of my knowledge, however."

"Wow... I thought for sure you did. Then again, I thought the same for Ayra, and she looked at me like I was crazy." Lady Ethlyn's magic was very gentle, especially given her usual energy. Perhaps the energy manifested in the warmth instead. "So many people in the army are so pretty. It's almost enough to make me jealous."

"Looks are not everything, Lady Ethlyn." I thought briefly of my mother, and Lady Cigyun. Their beauty only brought them pain, thanks to my father. "Besides, you are a beauty in your own right."

"Eh?" Lady Ethlyn froze, her cheeks turning pink with a blush. "I am? I mean; Quan thinks so, but..."

"Yes." I thought about explaining about the lovesick fools who'd gotten themselves colds while brooding in the rain in the wake of her marriage, but decided against it. It might trouble her.

"Oh." Her blush darkened, and a strangely shy smile crept onto her face. "...Growing up, I was always simply 'cute'. 'Cute', 'adorable'... that's what I heard. Edain was the beauty, and I was the 'cutie'." Well, she was quite adorable as well, but that was more due to her personality. "No one really called me 'beautiful'..." Well, how was I supposed to reply to that? "Oh, but um... er..." Then again, maybe she would prefer I did not.

So, instead, I looked about the room for a convenient change of subject and my gaze fell on the collection of tea tins on the desk, behind the makeup she'd taken from her vanity. "That's quite the variety of teas." Glancing over the labels, I noticed quite a few were 'fruity' teas, with berries or citrus. I also noticed most of them were shut tight with a faint layer of dust, as if they had not been opened in a significant time. The teas labeled 'chamomile' and 'lavender', however... they were only loosely closed, as if they had been opened recently or the person anticipated having to open it again very soon. "Lady Ethlyn?"

"Yes?" Her voice held a touch of relief. "What is it?"

"Have you or Lord Quan had trouble sleeping?" I studied the tea collection once more, noting the ones on the other side of the chamomile and lavender were decidedly different than the ones before. The ones labeled 'ginger' and 'cinnamon' were loosely closed. I remembered Lady Ethlyn telling me once ginger was difficult for her to take, as it was much too spicy for her. Did Lord Quan favor them, then?

"Hmm? I... uh..." Lady Ethlyn looked away sheepishly. "Are my eyes puffy? You're right, but I'm wondering what gave me away."

"No, they are not." At least, they did not appear so right now. "I simply took a guess."

"Ah." She still wouldn't look at me. "Well, however you figured it out... again, you're right. I'm not sleeping well. I might have spent a year in Leonster, but I'm still not truly used to battles. The screams, the death, the blood..." She shuddered at the memories. "Then I remember those children we couldn't save, among the refugees. They haunt my nightmares, and I keep thinking... wondering..." Ah, I knew this problem well. 'What if'. It was a terrible spiral, all the more so when you did not know how to carve a little space in your heart to place it. "Then, of course, I think of their mothers and I think of my little Altenna..."

"...Those are not..." What to say? What to do? Father Eirik would always tell me it was unsuitable for a healer to dwell on such. A healer had no place in being emotional. Yet I couldn't say that to her. I simply couldn't. "They are... valid feelings, Lady Ethlyn. It is understandable you would find it hard to sleep." I did not know what else to say, though. I devoted myself to my studies so I could save the next one, but Lady Ethlyn had so many other duties...

"Do you have any mixes to help you sleep?"

"...I'll make something up for you." I did not have a mix for myself, but it would be easy to make her one. I could add some of the fruits she seemed to favor, and some herbs to help new mothers recuperate from their pregnancy and birthing. While I was at it, I could make a mix for Lord Sigurd as well. It wouldn't be hard; I already knew what flavors he liked. "Come by the infirmary in the morning." I could make both tonight, while I waited for some medicines to steep. It would be simple.

"Thank you!" She smiled so warmly and sweetly. It was a relief to see. "Ah, hold still for one second. Let me get this concealer on..." She opened one of the containers on her desk, scooped a little of whatever was inside, and tapped something cold against the bruise, quick and light. I tried not to flinch, as each tap hurt. "There we are, nice and hidden." How thoughtful of her. I had been wondering how to maintain the air of a proper healer with a bruised jaw. "So..." A sudden knock on the door then, though, startled us both. "...It's open?" The hesitance in her voice hinted she hadn't expected visitors and her wide eyes when the door clicked open to reveal Mister Finn only further confirmed it. "Finn?"

"Mine apologies, my lady," Mister Finn mumbled, looking down. He seemed a little out of breath, strangely enough. "When I returned from patrol, I heard Miss Alicia had been hurt by one of our own." So, had he been worried there'd been a revolt? Was that why he was here? "So..."

"Aw, you're the sweetest!" Lady Ethlyn immediately walked over to pinch his cheek; Mister Finn made a face. "As you can see, though, all is well." Yes, though it had taken much longer than anticipated. I should return to the infirmary quickly. "How was the patrol? Anything unexpected?"

"Thankfully no, my lady."

The two continued to converse, with Lady Ethlyn leading Mister Finn from the doorway to minimize awkwardness. I took the opportunity to slip away, not wanting to intrude further. I'd been away from my patients long enough, and Lady Ethlyn's room was not far from the infirmary. I had to return to work.

Arvis was ever one to take advantage of opportunities, no matter if they were happenstance or engineered. Thus, it was no surprise he capitalized on Azelle traveling with me to send a plethora of letters. The contents of his latest letter, however, were... more than a little curious.

"You told him I was punched?" I asked Azelle, twisting in my chair to look at the storage room. As usual, Azelle used 'managing inventory' as an excuse to spend time with me, and I used 'studying' as an excuse to read through a letter from my dear older brother. "Truly?"

"He replied to that already?" Azelle 'answered', poking his head out from the storage room. I frowned slightly and he shrugged. "What? Were you not going to tell him?"

"Of course not." I never wanted to worry him, and I knew this made him panic. Usually in his letters, he'd ensure it was neat and easy to read, even if the writing was casual. This letter, however, was filled with scratched out words (misspellings primarily), and disorderly lines. "He also brought up Crown Prince Munnir taking me hostage..." Who had told him? Had it also been Azelle? No, it didn't matter. What did matter was finding some way to reassure him and keep him from rearranging things in Belhalla and Velthomer, again, to send us more soldiers. He didn't write it, but I knew he was already working on it. He barely slept as it was... "Perhaps I'd better send Aida a letter asking her to watch his health."

"Maybe with whatever means he sent his reply. I swear it's not been that long." It couldn't have been. It had been just over a week. It was surprising enough he'd even heard! "For it to come so quickly..." Azelle crept over to peer over my shoulder. "Did he use one of his personal falcons?"

"He would've had to." It was quite the risk as well. He rarely used them for anything but the most pertinent of messages. "Did you not see?"

"No, Lex passed it to me. I'll ask him later." Though now I wondered just where the falcon would've disappeared to.

With nothing left to say, Azelle returned to the inventory and I returned to the letter, reading through carefully. It wasn't as long as his letters usually were, hinting this was something he'd scribbled as soon as he'd heard from Azelle, and the message hidden in the haphazardly scrawled words was even shorter: 'Are you well?' Though I could see where he'd crossed out an entire sentence towards the end, using so much ink it was near impossible to make out the words. From the fragments I could discern, though, I guessed he brought up how I did not know how to fight. That... was not a conversation for letters, particularly when my own stance had not changed. I... it was my duty and pleasure to heal as a healer. I would not harm. I would not. Though it did make me wonder how to respond. Should I pretend to have not seen? Should I perhaps subtly remind him of my view?

"Miss Alicia, are you still here?" While I mentally debated, Lord Oifeye poked his head into the infirmary, and sighed in relief when he saw me 'studying' at the table. "Oh, good, I was worried when the strategy meeting ran over some..." he mumbled, stepping into the room. Ever since I'd been punched, Lord Oifeye had made a point to be free whenever I needed to check on our Verdanite patients. I hated causing so much trouble, particularly when he was not the only one who hovered near. Lord Lex and Lady Ayra often 'happen to pass by', to say nothing of the knights. They'd actively stood guard the last couple of days. "There is still time?"

"Yes, though I did plan to leave soon," I confirmed, making sure to smile and ignoring the twinge of pain in my cheek. It still hurt, but I would not let anyone know. Lady Ethlyn fussed enough as it was. "Are you certain you wish to escort me still?" Lord Oifeye still turned green at some of the patients' conditions, and I knew Azelle would not mind accompanying me.

"If I am not a nuisance, then I would like to, yes." Still, when he so earnestly wished, how could I deny him? "A knight's duty is to defend, and those under your care are under Lord Sigurd's protection. That our soldiers would attack reflects poorly on him."

"Whatever happened to them?" I hadn't seen them once since, and heard even less. Granted, my duties kept me near the infirmaries, but still, I would think I'd hear something by now.

"Lord Sigurd had the one who punched you confined for two days, while the rest were let go with a warning." Lord Oifeye sighed once more, this time in both exasperation and fondness. "It is... very light as far as punishments are concerned, but Lord Sigurd felt their anger was understandable. A heavy punishment for such would only further breed discontent, or so he believed." Lord Oifeye paused suddenly. "B-but it is absolutely unforgivable and he was greatly distressed you were hurt!"

"Why would you need to clarify?" I frowned slightly. Azelle, meanwhile, stepped out to join us, and he looked just as confused as I felt. "I know the one who punched me. His daughters suffered greatly. I am glad Lord Sigurd took the circumstances into account." Personally, I thought two days imprisonment was too much. It had simply been a bruise.

"Be that as it may, we do need to be cautious. Discipline is important, after all." I supposed he had a point there. Certainly, it became clear continuing the conversation would only lead us in circles.

"Still, there is no reason to dampen the mood with such talk." …That… was too blunt. How did I soften the words…? "Have you any news for today?" Lord Oifeye did enjoy sharing stories of our soldiers' antics.

"News? Hmm?" Lord Oifeye thought for a moment, leaning on the doorframe. "Oh! Well, there was an oddity earlier in the mews!" Mews... that was where they kept the birds, wasn't it? "A black falcon appeared from nowhere this morning." ...Ah. This... this was awkward. Arvis's personal falcons had black feathers. "Though when I left to get one of their caretakers and returned, it had flown off." This… certainly explained where Arvis's personal falcon had gone. It must have rested briefly before returning home to Velthomer. "But I swear I saw it!" Now how to address this...?

"...Perhaps it had belonged to a local noble, and found itself adrift due to the current circumstances?" Azelle suggested hesitantly, with a slightly awkward smile. Based on his tone and expression, I knew he'd come to the same conclusion I'd had and now was going with the first excuse he could think of to explain it away. "I'm certain there are quite a few former pets wandering the surrounding lands."

"Oh, that could've been it. If that's the case, though, we truly need to find an animal doctor." Lord Oifeye frowned. "How to best find one, though? Should we ask the townsfolk?"

"Bring it up to Lord Sigurd?" Azelle passed me his notes on the inventory. "Or, well, maybe I can, since you're about to be busy."

"Hmm?"

"I told you I would need to check on my patients soon," I reminded, keeping my calm. I might need to make a note of this in my reply to Arvis; his worry was no reason to make things awkward for Azelle. "Will you help me gather my things, Lord Oifeye?"

Thankfully, Lord Oifeye jumped at the opportunity to help me, and I heard nothing further on the topic. We did gather a surprising number of animals over the next few days, though. I could only hope they didn't bring diseases with them.

"There you are, nice and slow," Lord Sigurd murmured, watching as Lord Shanan walked one shaky step at a time. He tightened his grip on his hand, providing much needed support. "We're in no rush."

"Yes, you are doing just fine," I reassured, gently holding onto Lord Shanan's other hand. I had not initially planned it, but when we'd started the walk, Lord Shanan had taken mine without thinking. I would not let go. "See? I told you that you would walk before long."

Lord Shanan's recovery progressed beautifully, and shortly after we moved to Marpha, he'd begun his physical therapy. Through determination, and perhaps the resilience often associated with those of Major Holy Blood, he'd taken to it well, to the point he could stand with minimal assistance. So, for our regular walk through the market, Lord Sigurd had suggested Lord Shanan might try walking on his own. Though I worried about his stamina, I decided the benefit to his mental health was too great to dismiss. Certainly, Lord Shanan's entire demeanor brightened at the idea, so now, here we were, Lord Shanan walking outside for the first time since his imprisonment in Genoa, hand in hand with Lord Sigurd and me.

"Seems he's doing well," Lord Sigurd noted softly once we had reached the edge of town. Lord Shanan paid him no mind; he was too busy concentrating. "Ah, but I have been remiss. How are you healing?" All at once, though, Lord Sigurd peered at my face, specifically my cheek. "Your bruise..."

"It is nothing to fret about," I replied, curious and confused in equal measure. It was startling just how many asked. I expected it from Azelle, and indeed, my little brother asked on an hourly basis. But why would the others wonder?

"I think it's natural to worry about someone who has been injured."

"It is certainly natural for you, Lord Sigurd." He had to have a thousand things and more to worry about, though. "Lady Edain has checked on it personally, and healed it fully yesterday." There was some lingering stiffness; each smile felt like a pinch still. But there was no reason to bother anyone. "Ah, but I thank you for taking their feelings into account."

"...Whose feelings?" Lord Sigurd frowned, his face scrunched up slightly. "Edain's? No, you used 'their'..."

"Ah, my apologies. I meant the soldiers. I heard of their punishments." I supposed it was a bit of a non-sequitur. "I do not know if you heard, but the one who punched me... his daughters had been among the captured."

"I did learn, as I asked about it. I wished to discern if it was a personal pain or a... cultural bias, shall we say?" Lord Sigurd's smile turned a little awkward. "Discipline is important and truthfully, striking one's healer is grounds for two years of imprisonment." That... surely that was not the case! "However, after speaking to him, his fellows, and the Verdanites they argued with, I believed it hadn't been premeditated. They should not have confronted them at all and likely were looking for a fight, but the punch itself had been in the heat of the moment. So, I discussed it with Khasar-"

"Forgive me, but who is that?"

"Ah, Khasar is... well, I suppose he became the unofficial leader of the Verdanite soldiers since he was the one who first spoke to us." Ah, so that was his name. I hadn't learned, nor did I think to ask. "He was the one who suggested a light punishment, with the condition Verdanite soldiers who similarly lose their tempers were also given light punishments. After all..." Lord Sigurd looked away briefly. "No matter how much we try to dress it up, we did invade. We did kill their family, their friends. It's clear they have no more of an idea of what is going on than we do. So, now their loved ones are dead and so are their lords and who else is there left to blame but us?"

"I think I understand." Lord Oifeye had mentioned discipline, but Lord Sigurd worried more about everyone's feelings. "I... speaking as a healer, I believe anger is healthy to a certain degree. All emotions are. We are human, and humans feel. Biting such things back... it can lead to many health problems."

"Yet it must also be balanced against excess. The last thing any of us need is daily fistfights. That will only worsen relations between our countries." Lord Sigurd glanced at me hesitantly, but relaxed once he caught my eye. "We'll see in the coming days if it was the right decision. If not, I shall simply bear the consequences and find another path forward."

"I believe that is all anyone can do."

"Should I pretend I can't hear?" Lord Shanan suddenly drawled, his voice only a little breathy. Both Lord Sigurd and I jerked our heads down to see him pouting. Yet despite the pouty annoyance, I knew I saw fear and unease as well. "Father and Aunt Ayra would talk over my head back in Isaach, and I had to pretend then." Ah, that was...

"I apologize for reminding you of such tense circumstances, Shanan," Lord Sigurd replied, smiling sheepishly. For my part, I squeezed Lord Shanan's hand in mine, hoping he found it reassuring. "But no, you need not pretend such. If you have opinions on the matter, I would gladly hear them. You were simply concentrating so fervently I dared not distract you."

"I'm still confused by everything that's going on here, truthfully." Lord Shanan's pout grew, and the fear and unease retreated. Thank goodness... "But what's this about Miss Alicia having a bruise?" I... supposed he didn't hear? "Aunt Ayra was mad about something recently. Was that it?

"Likely, yes, and she and I had a very spirited discussion about it and it is why she's taken to patrols lately." Was that another way to say they argued? What would they have argued about? "Regardless, there was an argument between soldiers not long ago and when things escalated into violence, Miss Alicia intervened. Unfortunately, she was hurt in the process."

"That seems to be a very fancy way of saying I moved in the way of someone's fist," I noted dryly before I could stop myself. I shouldn't have slipped, and would've reminded myself of Father Eirik's lessons, but Lord Shanan looked so aghast I couldn't help but focus on reassuring him. Lord Sigurd was no help; he laughed and laughed.

By this point, we had made it to the town proper and discussions turned to other, less stressful topics as we made our way to the market. It was lively as we walked through, keeping slow so Lord Shanan never felt rushed. People waved when we passed, and no small few even giggled. I did not know why. Was there something particularly amusing about us? I did not think so, and I certainly could not think of why some of the young adults would sigh longingly. Were they infatuated with Lord Sigurd? Some in Yngvi suffered from such, though most knew it would lead nowhere. Lord Sigurd was as infamous as Arvis for avoiding the matchmakers, for reasons even the gossips did not know. I knew why Arvis did: his general distrust of people's intentions due to our father's crimes. He found it hard to trust anyone, after living so long with only Lady Cigyun and my mother genuinely caring for him in the mess of a noble court.

"Miss Alicia, is all well?" Lord Sigurd asked suddenly. Immediately, I glanced down worriedly at Lord Shanan, but found him still doing fine. He was a touch paler and his breathing was noticeably harder, but the determination in his eyes did not falter nor did his grip on my hand. "You seem distracted."

"I am simply wondering about the people," I answered, looking up at him. I could see him frown worriedly. "So many sigh and giggle. While I am gladdened by their high spirits, I cannot help but wonder the cause."

"Ah, you've noticed it as well. Quite a few stare at you in particular." That made little to no sense for a number of reasons. Besides, by my eyes, most stared at him. "Mayhaps they envy your serene grace?"

"I somehow doubt that." ...Again. Again, I let myself be too sarcastic. I looked away, mortified I would so easily forget my lessons. Father Eirik would've thrown a fit if he learned...

A flicker of movement caught and held my attention, and I focused on it with a frown. There... in the shadows of a nearby building... there was a man in poorly fitting armor, yanking on a woman's arm. Most walked past, ignorant or ignoring, despite how the man's voice grew louder, and the woman tried to pull her arm free, tried to somehow fold in on herself and hide...

"P-please, let me go...!"

"Shaddup! Keep yapping and you'll regret it!"

I... did not like the look of it and turned towards Lord Sigurd, wondering if he'd come to the same conclusion I did. The sudden hard look in his eye said 'yes', but he glanced worriedly at Lord Shanan, who still had his gaze fixed forward. When I subtly pulled Lord Shanan closer to me, though, he nodded and let go to rescue the woman. Keeping Lord Shanan tucked close to me, we followed slowly.

Absently, I thought of something Arvis once confided, of how he used to dream of Prince Kurth rescuing both his mother and mine from our father. Such fanciful tales never came true, especially in Velthomer, but... well, today, at least, it could be true for this woman. After all Lord Sigurd often acted as a quintessential knight in shining armor.

"I think you're the one who's doing something they'll regret," Lord Sigurd sighed as soon as he was within reach, exasperation making the words long and tired. He easily twisted the man off of the woman, and I skirted near to help her away while keeping a tight grip on Lord Shanan's hand. I did not want him to be lost in the ruckus. "That is no way to treat a lady."

"Shaddup!" the one in armor rounded on him. I used the distraction to firmly lead the woman away. "I saw her first!"

"Ladies are not commodities, sir." Never had I seen Lord Sigurd's gaze so cold. "Now what shall we do? There are none I loathe more than your kind, but I do not wish to cause a further ruckus. The people have had enough for a lifetime."

By then, I had found a cluster of boxes stacked neatly outside a store and lifted Lord Shanan onto one for him to rest. He blinked slowly, no doubt confused by everything, but I made sure to smile and smooth the hair out of his face before turning to the woman to check her over.

"That... just happened," the woman murmured after a moment, keeping her head down. She had kept it down the entire time, revealing only long and beautiful silver hair. "I... I am sorry for the trouble..."

"'Tis no trouble," I reassured, pushing up her sleeve. Her arm was mottled with bruises, made more apparent by how surprisingly pale she was compared to the other Verdanites I had seen. It was as if she had not seen the sun in some time. "I am a healer, miss." However, my focus went to the bruising and, specifically, how it was in various stages of healing. Had she suffered his company long or were these from elsewhere...? "This is my job."

"Still..."

"I assure you I had to heal worse this morning, from soldiers too hungover to keep from walking into walls." I truly shouldn't have shared that, but she choked on a startled laugh. "My name is Alicia, miss. I am-"

"Oh! Like from the story!" ...That... was not the usual reaction to my name. "Ah, I love that story! It's filled with wonders and dangers and, of course, a beautifully happy end!" She finally looked up then, revealing sparkling pale purple eyes. "My mother apparently liked it for the same reasons! I read her copy all the time!" All at once, she froze and ducked her head. This time, though, she blushed, a pale pink all the way to the tips of her ears. "Er... I'm sorry. I..."

"Perhaps I should look more into the story. I've not read it myself." I'd never given much thought about where my name came from. Arvis once told me it was his own mother who'd named me, because of course the one who eventually threw me away did not give anything to me. All she gave me was my life, just as all my father gave me was the blood in my veins which connected me to Arvis and Azelle. "What was your name again?"

"It's... um..." She ducked her head even more. "...Deirdre."

"It is nice to meet you, Deirdre." This conversation felt so awkward; I simply did not know how to make small talk.

"Well, that solves that." Thankfully, though, Lord Sigurd came to my rescue as well, via joining us by the boxes. I spared a glance at Lord Shanan, but he continued watching us with wide eyes. That was... worrisome, but... "Hopefully, he shan't bother anyone for a while," Lord Sigurd continued, not elaborating in the slightest. Instead, his focus went to Deirdre. "Are you well, miss?"

"I... um... yes..." Deirdre mumbled, looking up briefly. All at once, she froze, staring at him. Strangely, for his part, Lord Sigurd stared back. A long moment of silence hung in the air... "I..." Then she ducked her head once more, and broke the spell. "Thank you, Lord Sigurd."

"You... know my name?" Lord Sigurd smiled slightly. "I... did not think it had spread so far."

"There are some who only know it through rumors. There have been many stories of Grannvale's army being naught but violent raiders, come to conquer Verdane." ...Well, it was easy to see why those rumors came about, even if they were technically incorrect. Lord Sigurd had no intention of conquering, but one had to actually speak with him to know he had not even considered it. "I knew they were false, though. I spoke with a lovely lady named 'Edain' the last time I was here."

"You spoke with Edain?"

"Yes, after I gave her some apples I gathered." ...Ah, so was she the mysterious 'apple fairy', then? "She spoke so highly of you, so I knew the rumors were false. You are... exactly as I imagined..." She took a sudden step back. "I... If you're here, then Miss Edain is safe, yes?"

"She is."

"I see. Good..." I barely caught the hint of a smile on her face; she kept it down, and her hair fell over her shoulder like a shield. "In that case, I should... I should be returning home."

"Would you like an escort? I would hate for you to be accosted once more."

"...No need!" With that, she bolted, leaving both Lord Sigurd and me staring. Had we scared her? Had we overwhelmed her? Should I chase after her to apologize?

There were no answers for the first two questions, and while the latter was tempting, I knew I could not. For one thing, she had vanished from sight far too quickly. She might stand out with her silver hair and delicate features, but she clearly knew the area better than me. For another, leaving Lord Shanan alone would be irresponsible, and a health hazard. I doubted Lady Ayra would accept any excuses for doing so, and given how Lord Sigurd began chatting, and perhaps even arguing, with a village elder who crept near as soon as she was out of sight...

"Lord Shanan?" I called, focusing entirely on my charge once more. He... was pale. He was much paler than he should be. His eyes remained wide, and his pupils were dilated... "Oh, Lord Shanan..." How foolish. He was... he was panicking. Quietly and surely, he was panicking. How foolish of me to not realize sooner. "There, there..." Unable to think of what to do, I hugged him gently. Immediately, he clung to me, his fingers twisting into the back of my dress as if he feared I'd disappear. "I'm sorry. I had not realized... was it the yelling?"

"Sort of..." Lord Shanan croaked, clinging to me all the tighter. He trembled in my arms, and his breath caught in my throat. "He... he reminded me of Cimbaeth. The tone... the words... they..." Ah...

"You are safe." What else could I say? He already knew Second Prince Cimbaeth was dead and the dead did not return. Telling him such would do nothing. "It is all right to still fear. It is not silly or weak. But you are safe. We will always keep you safe. No one will harm you here."

We stayed that way for some time. I did not know how long. I wished I knew a better way to comfort him. But I knew no songs or stories. All I had were words I did not think mattered and hugs I was sure were awkward. But he clung, and I refused to let go until he was ready. Truthfully, when Lord Sigurd finally joined the two of us, he was still clinging to me.

"My apologies..." Lord Sigurd mumbled, refusing to look me in the eye. He refused to look at anything, truthfully, and kept his head bowed. "I... should not have been so rude as to ignore you for a... well..."

"I fear I paid no mind to the conversation you had with whoever that was," I replied, craning my neck to at least look at him. I didn't want to dislodge Lord Shanan by accident. "What were you arguing about? I guessed you argued; you are much too tense."

"Ugh... you're right..." Lord Sigurd sighed and shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Truthfully, I asked about the woman, worried I had offended her somehow. He said she was a denizen of the Spirit Forest to the north, and she was forbidden to interact with the world outside said forest." ...Forbidden? "To do otherwise would risk calamity, for she and her kin are cursed. That was what he said."

"..." Quite a few things raced through my head, not a one a proper healer should have. For the first time since I was a child, I thought I felt my blood boil and my temper simmer. I bit it back, though, shoved it down somewhere deep. Father Eirik always scolded me for anger; blood would always tell. So, it took me far too long to actually reply. "It sounds like superstitious nonsense."

"Precisely!" Lord Sigurd looked at me then, eyes glinting in righteous anger. He held back all else, though, no doubt worried for Lord Shanan. "The idea of someone being born 'cursed' is ridiculous!" He breathed out slowly, shaking his head. "Though I prefer respecting other people's cultures and beliefs, I fear I could not bite my tongue. Hence the argument and my rudely ignoring you both."

"In such a case, I would be surprised if you didn't." Still, I had no idea how to continue the conversation. Thankfully, I found the perfect excuse. "Oh..." Namely, Lord Shanan... had fallen asleep in my arms. "He must have been exhausted." Between the walk and the panic attack... yes, this had been much too stressful...

"No doubt pushed himself, and I'm certain the confrontation unsettled his nerves. I really shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me." Carefully and gently, Lord Sigurd gathered him up in his arms to hoist him up. Lord Shanan mumbled something, but otherwise did not stir. "We had best return so he can sleep properly."

"Yes, I shall need to give him a checkup as well." Though it was almost a shame, for he slept so peacefully against Lord Sigurd's shoulder.

Still, there was nothing for it. Once we were certain Lord Shanan was secure, the two of us headed back for the castle. The market was still as lively as ever, with people waving as we passed. Some still giggled, though a few now smiled indulgently. It still confused me, and Lord Sigurd's own little frown hinted he found it baffling as well. However, there was no reason to bring attention to it and, thus, we continued on. At least we continued until we reached the front gates.

Then Lord Sigurd stopped suddenly, and turned to me to say, "Miss Alicia?"

"Yes?" I answered, and glanced up at him curiously. "What is it?"

"Might you drop the title and simply call me by name?"

"...Pardon?" That... where had that even come from?! "It is only proper?"

"Perhaps in normal circumstances, but you are my chief healer. That easily makes you my equal." I wasn't certain about that. I was still confused where this came from. "You are, after all, the one person with the rank to overrule my decisions, due to the soldiers' health." ...Well, I couldn't argue that one. "And we have been conspirators far too much." He grinned, and I knew my expression blanked. It wasn't the 'proper' blank either. "First with Shanan." He shifted Lord Shanan up in his arms to hold him more securely, an accidental emphasis to his words. "And then with the 'enemy soldiers'."

"Twice is 'far too much'?" Yet again, I couldn't help the dryness, and almost winced. But he laughed. "...If you insist on the lack of titles, then it must be reciprocated." Perhaps I should just try to stop trying to figure out where this line of thinking came from. I somehow doubted I'd ever make sense of it.

"If you are all right with that, then so am I, Alicia."

"Very well... Sigurd." It was surprising how easy it was to drop the title. I was sure I would stutter, but it came almost naturally. I supposed it was just how he was. "I hope we see Deirdre again, though. That was her name, if you didn't hear."

"Ah, then I hope so as well." ...Strange, he sounded almost wistful. But why would he be wistful about someone he just met? "We could... ah, but I suppose inviting her to stay would be rude."

"Perhaps." Then again, maybe it was his kindness again. "We should head inside. Lady Ayra has to be worried, even if she knows Lord Shanan is with us."

"Indeed." Lor... Sigurd smiled, and I decided I'd misread the 'wistful' tone before. "Shall we?"

Though I followed, fussing over Lord Shanan even though Lord Sigurd had a firm grip on him, I found myself glancing over my shoulder, wondering if Deidre was somehow still there. Of course she wouldn't be, but I couldn't help it. Something about all of this... strangely, it unsettled me. I felt as if my very blood cried out in warning. But what sort of warning would it even be?

No, it was ridiculous and I'd keep quiet about it. It was only a distraction from my duty.

Arden

Class: Sword Armor

Skills: Vantage

Holy Blood: None

A kind and gentle knight of Chalphy, he is of minor nobility, though little was expected of him as he was the middle of seven children. Though he writes them fairly frequently, he has little contact with them otherwise, which suits him just fine as he considers Chalphy his home and the people within, his family.

Specializing in defensive techniques, he is most often the one left behind to guard the main camp or castle while others ride to the front lines. Most would rankle at such an inglorious duty, but he takes pride in it as he knows it is because he has his lord's absolute trust. With that said, he does dislike being teased about his 'slowness' in combat.

Though it is not often brought up, he almost died when thrown from a horse as a child, being saved only because Sigurd happened to be near on his own ride and carried him to his estate for treatment. The weeks which followed were maddening and terrifying, as no one knew if he'd fully recover or not, but Sigurd remained by his side through it, despite them being strangers. It's this incident which sparked his steadfast loyalty to his lord, though he remains terrified of horses.

Author's note: Patient mentioned in the first scene is a combo of two patients encountered in the hospital I work at (the new mommy with necrotizing fasciitis was not the same one whose uterus was carried down to the lab in a giant paint bucket, though she still lost the uterus due to rot). Have a Deirdre, Shanan recovering more (sort of), Alicia and Sigurd dropping titles with each other

(The mentions Alicia's name being odd is because when I first chose her name, I just focused on an 'A' name to match Arvis and Azelle... and neglected to have it fit in with the naming scheme of the other chars by accident (namely Norse and Celtic mythology). Though, I think the name's etymology can be traced to Old Germanic? Anyway, by the time I realized the mistake, I... couldn't call her anything else. So, instead, I pretend it was intentional from the start, yepyep XD)

As for 'Khasar', near as I could tell, both 'Jamke' and 'Batu' are Mongolian names, specifically the names of those related to Ghengis Khan. So, I went with a similar naming theme for our Verdanite soldier, with 'Khasar' being the name of one of Ghengis Khan's brothers, though I think it's more commonly written as 'Qasar'.