Dawn arrived in a grieving city. The first rays of sunlight pierced the cloud of smoke hanging over Bareon, illuminating the charred ruins of the church, the destroyed market square, and the bloodied city gates. It brought little hope or relief with it, but it did mark the end of the fighting, and terror.
Midhir woke up with Aodan’s arrival. The butler softly knocked on the door before stepping inside. He had the same gentle, caring smile as he always had, and carried a basket full of bottles and bandages with him. “Your wounds need tending, sir Induen.”
Hearing his ancestral name cleared his clouded mind as he sat up. He winced – even the smallest movement caused some ache or hurt. “Thank you,” he muttered.
By some grace, he didn’t have any deep wounds – just a lot of small cuts, and a few bruises that had turned purple by now. Aoden cleaned the cuts, wrapped the worst ones in bandages, and checked his right hand’s healing before putting everything back in the basket.
“How is the situation?” Midhir asked as the butler gathered everything in the small basket.
Aodan paused at the question for a split second before resuming. “Lord Alistair is alive and well, as are the rest of your classmates. Lady Aulorn has spent the night in the hospital, aiding the wounded, and Lady Maloid is still recovering from her wound,” he glanced out the window. “The city itself, however, wasn’t as lucky as them.”
Midhir followed the butler’s gaze. The city was visible from the window, and so was some of the damage.
“There were people in the church,” he remembered them, hunched over their small children, crying for help as smoke filled the air. He couldn’t save them before the pavement collapsed, and he fell down into the caverns.
“Several people were saved from the church,” Aodan said with a faint smile. “From the reports we received, crystal tools were unusable near the church, so some of the guards ventured out to find what was preventing their usage. Their findings were brought here for Lord Orlein to inspect.”
Midhir breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow, things weren’t as bad as he feared. At least those people – families and children trapped in that inferno of a church – had survived. “That’s good to hear…” He felt a weight he didn’t even realise he was carrying had lift from his shoulders.
“Indeed,” Aodan nodded. “Unfortunately, the market square was severely damaged by explosions – which also caused the cave-in that you suffered. Most of the buildings were destroyed, and I’m afraid there were losses.”
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The relief he felt vanished. “I see…”
“The city gates also came under attack, but Captain Rhianne was able to defend them,” Aodan glanced at the door. “The mansion also came under attack as you may have noticed. We’re not sure what their goal was, as they split into several groups, and only one went after Lord Orlein – he easily dispatched of them. The others thrashed different areas of the mansion but did no noteworthy damage.” He hesitated for a split second before lowering his voice. “Their assault here is what worries me the most.”
Midhir nodded. It was worrying, precisely because their intentions were unclear. “Some were caught alive,” he stated. He had knocked three of them out as he arrived at Bareon.
The butler’s expression darkened. “Indeed. They are being questioned as we speak.”
“Thank you,” Midhir pushed himself up on his feet. “I’d like to meet with Lord Orlein today, if that’s at all possible.”
“I will arrange it. I know you want to help, but I will tell you the same thing I told Lord Alistair – you must rest and recover. You have mud and filth all over you, please make sure to clean yourself, and have a proper meal before returning to your duties.”
“But-“ he motioned to protest, only for the butler to cut him off.
“You are no healer, nor can you help with rebuilding. You are a fighter – someone who will become a leader alongside Lord Alistair. A leader needs to know that he can’t carry all burdens. Some rest upon the commonfolk.” He bowed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I will return with your meal soon.”
The butler left, gently closing the door behind him, leaving the dumbfounded Midhir alone.
He wanted to ignore the butler’s words. He wanted to throw on a coat, and rush outside to help. That’s what his sister would have done – she wouldn’t sit and wait. She wouldn’t rest and recover while her people suffered.
But that’s exactly why their father would scold her. Because she would wear herself too thin, and eventually collapse from exhaustion, unable to perform her duties.
So, he suppressed the want to rush outside to help, and made his way to the bath. He let the hot water wash away the grime, mud, and dirt away. The sore muscles and aching bruises relaxed, the pain washed away, even if only for a few moments.
He stayed under the flowing water for quite a while before finally stepping out, drying himself, and putting on some clean clothes. By the time he was done, a hot meal was already waiting for him next to the bed.
Feeling some remorse about being here, and not out there helping people, he sat down and ate, cleaning his plate like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. With a full belly, he let himself rest just a little while longer before getting back up on his feet and making himself presentable.
He tied his hair back with a black ribbon, wondering when it had gotten quite so long. It was quite a bit past his shoulders now – it could get in the way when fighting. He considered cutting it off with a knife but decided otherwise. A ribbon was good enough right now.
He put on his boots, took the vibrant flower laying on the bed and carefully placed it in his pocket, then stepped out of his room, and hurried along the hallway, towards Lord Orlein’s study.
He needed to contact his mother – he needed access to the sending mirror. She needed to know about the caverns and the temple beneath the city. It was a disaster waiting to happen – with a greater death toll than the fall of the Rose Capital all those years ago.
He couldn’t let that happen.