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Warchief was standing in what had come to be his office inside the dragon orders western pillar. It was smaller than most of the other rooms, with bare stone walls and floors as he had removed all of the valuable rugs that had once covered it. He had chosen the space, as it had been the only one devoid of other furniture except for a stone-made desk. Most would have been bothered by how empty the study was, but for Warchief it provided a sense of serenity.
At least it normally did. Currently, he was staring at the two envelopes in his hands as he leaned on the writing table behind him. They had been delivered that day and were the meager returns of the dozens of letters he had sent months prior.
One of them he recognized at a glance as belonging to his brother. There was no mistaking the elvish tradition of writing on speckled gold paper. As he had learned it to be typical of the elves, they flaunted their wealth at every chance. The other letter was a normal off-white color, and as Warchief turned to open it, he could see a rare blue seal imprinted with an insignia he recognized immediately. Iberios had answered.
Although he was glad to have received a response, he couldn’t help but feel deflated. Iberios was by far the most remote area that he had contacted, if they had the time to respond, it could only mean that the others should have responded by now as well.
Using the small dagger that he had strapped to his leg, he opened up the envelope. Inside he found a letter written in swirly cursive lettering, considered fashionable to the nobility all around the continent. To Warchief, it just looked unnecessarily complicated and ridiculous. He scanned the letter, feeling a sense of relief as it stated that Iberios would support them. Not that it mattered much as the country had no military means to help back them up. Their support was therefore more symbolic. But it was better than nothing. At least they would be willing to send supplies or be a safe haven if things went wrong.
Frustrated, he put it to the side and looked at the elven letter. Debating himself if he was in the right mind to deal with his brother's nonsense. But before he got to decide, a short knock sounded from the door behind him. Without his reply, it opened and Crystal walked in carrying her medical bag.
“Am I disturbing you?”
It was a rhetorical question, as they both knew that it did not matter if he had been busy or not.
“Do I need to answer that?”
She just shot him a smug grin, as she came to stand beside him. Not bothering to answer his question, she noticed the envelopes on the desk. She picked up the letter from Iberios and he could see her eyes flit over the text, scanning its contents.
“That is good news, for once.”
“I suppose so. The king has answered that he will support our mission. Not that it helps much. But at least someone seems to recognize that we should band together and stop that insane religion from spreading. I can’t wrap my head around what the rest is thinking.”
The half-demoness started to lean against the desk as well, nodding halfheartedly at his rumblings. They had had the same conversation multiple times now, and she didn’t seem interested in repeating the same points she always did. Instead, her eyes fell on the elfish letter.
“And Neoire?”
Warchief looked at the envelope as she waved it in front of his face and shook his head. He didn’t have to read it, to know what it would say. The elves felt themselves to be safe as the deadlands formed a natural barrier between them and the human world. They knew that the god of the dead wouldn’t allow anyone to pass.
She nodded in understanding as she gave the letter back to him.
“Maybe, we should consider leaving Lynoës and moving South. As they start to advance further, people might start changing their minds.”
Warchief knew that it was a good suggestion, but he couldn’t help but immediately reject it. Maybe if he had been a wiser and more cutthroat kind of man, he could have followed her advice. But he couldn’t help but imagine how many lives it would cost before the powers at be would start to move.
“You know that I can’t do that. We will make do. Even if I have to stand there alone.”
His grin grew wider as Crystal rolled her eyes at his nonchalant tone. He knew that she thought him to be too careless but he wasn’t. There was just no way for him to forsake these people.
“And I will have to fix you up again, don’t I?”
“I know I can count on you.”
She was growing annoyed at his flippant answers, but her expression rapidly turned to futile acceptance. They had known each other long enough, to grasp when they couldn’t change each other’s mind, and while Crystal might nag at him, she had never abandoned him.
“At least tell me, that you aren’t planning on fighting a war with only that rickety group of men.”
She sounded exasperated and Warchief could understand why as he thought back to his men outside. They were all civilians who had never fought a day in their life. The reason why he had agreed to lead them, was because he understood that they wanted to fight for their home. Fighting for one’s country could be a powerful motivator and he had seen them as a valuable source of information. Never had he considered them to be a serious battle regiment, as he had hoped for foreign armies to join their cause. However, nothing so far seemed to go his way.
“Well, it’s them I have so unless you have a hidden army somewhere, they will be the only ones helping us. Them and our new recruit. How is she doing by the way?”
Seeing the chance to change the subject, he grabbed it. Knowing that Crystal would always be open to complaining about her patients. The healer narrowed her eyes at him but a look at his smile, made her roll her eyes again and relent. Turning to the desk, she started to unpack the contents of her bag onto it.
“She is doing well, considering everything. The worst of her wound will be healed by the end of the month, and her vision seems to be mostly unaffected which is good. But she will need time to regain the weight and muscles. It was good to see what she was still able to do today, but I don’t want her in the training sessions yet. It takes too much of her body.”
Warchief thought back to when he had picked her up after she had fallen unconscious. He had been shocked at how light she was, considering she was as tall as him. He had expected her to not leave the infirmary for a long time, but she had surprised him by showing up at practice.
“She seemed to be doing well.”
Crystal snorted unladylike and looked at him as if he was the greatest idiot on this planet.
“She doesn’t know her limits. Which is no wonder as she has been training daily for years now. I am sure that she has gotten hurt before, but it was simple. You train, or you risk dying. However, her body has gone through too much now, to just walk it off. She will have to learn to rest and recover. But that is only the physical side of it, I don’t even know how long she will suffer mentally.”
He considered her words and nodded in understanding. She had seemed fine, but Crystal was right. There was no way, that she could recover this fast after being locked up for two months. He was optimistic that she would heal, but it would take time.
With a sigh, he accepted that it was yet another unplanned hindrance to their plan. He had hoped, to let her train with his men. So they could get to know one another and they would start to accept her as a possible figurehead.
“Did you tell her already?”
“Of course not. I will tell her in the morning, not when she is half asleep on her feet.”
Warchief wondered how the girl would react. She seemed to be of the stubborn variety, but then again, so was Crystal. The healer tended to get her way more often than not.
“Ow, before I forget. Could you send somebody that get her some new clothes? I would rather not have her walking around as if she is drowning in fabric.”
Warchief smiled as he remembered how Lidea had looked as she came onto the exercise field. Even though she was tall as him, she missed his width and as a result, the clothes practically fell off her frame. He had seen how she had to roll up her sleeves and pants to even try and join the training.
“Makes sense, I will sort it for her. Any special requests? I suppose if she is mostly resting, it would be good to get her some nightrobes.”
Crystal tilted her head sidewards as she thought about it and Warchief had to smile about her little habit. She reminded him always of a dog when she did it. Not that he would ever say so to her.
“Just comfortable clothes in general, I don’t think she will enjoy any nightrobes, but you can bring one and we can see if she will use it. I will give you a list.”
“That would be helpful. Add anything that you need for the infirmary as well. No sense in doing two separate trips.”
Crystal nodded and grabbed the pot of Silverroot salve that she had put on the desk. Looking at him expectantly.
“Did you think, that I wouldn’t notice?”
Warchief groaned as he turned his back towards her. Sometimes he questioned if she had the talent of foresight, for how easily she noticed when something was ailing him.
“I barely noticed it myself. Just didn’t think, to let you know.”
The frown on her face told him that she didn’t believe a word of what he was saying and he decided to leave it. Removing his shirt, he exposed the bandages that covered him from his waist to his shoulders. Hiding away the old burn scars that covered his back. He could hear Crystal clack her tongue in disapproval even before she removed the dressings, telling Warchief that the blisters must have started to ooze again. He hadn’t been lying when he mentioned that he barely felt anything. His back had been scarred so heavily through the years that he didn’t feel much anymore. Except for the never-ending sensation of burning flesh that happened to him every night.
“You need to come in daily Warchief. That is the only way for me to stay on top of it.”
“I’m sorry Crystal, I was just busy and forgot about it.”
It was a lie and they both knew it. Neither spoke for a while as Crystal started to treat his blisters and Warchief focused on keeping the memories at bay that appeared in his mind at her every touch.
“I will give you a sleeping potion for tonight.”
He didn’t like taking something that would make him sleep like the dead, but he knew that it was inevitable if he didn’t want his back to become worse. At least she hadn’t badgered him about seeking help. Even if could see the frustration in her eyes after she was done treating him.
He knew that it wasn’t right and that he had to do something about it, but he wasn’t ready to confront his inner demons just yet.
He looked on as the healer grabbed a potion bottle from her bag. Evidently, she had expected this outcome and had prepared it upfront. Sometimes he was still amazed at her skills as a healer.
“Thank you, Crystal.”
Her eyes narrowed at him as she pushed the potion into his hand.
“Don’t thank me, if you are just going to continue hurting yourself.”
She packed her bag in a hurry and left the door. Warchief knew that her anger was born out of concern for him and that it would be short-lived. But it didn’t make him feel any better.
He glanced again at his brother’s letter but decided that he had enough for that day and it would have to wait. Grasping the potion instead, he hoped to leave the world behind him. For once not plagued by the nightmares that normally tortured him. Even if it was only for a couple of hours.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
