Aleria moved through the crowded clinic like a wraith, her footsteps silent amidst the groans of the wounded and the murmured prayers of the hopeful. Every available space had been pressed into service - cots crammed side-by-side, benches lined with makeshift pallets, even the floor itself blanketed with rough-spun mats.
And still, it was not enough.
Her own narrow bed had been one of the first sacrificed, the thin mattress now occupied by the girl and her brother, who'd survived the warg attack. Though stable, the girl would need Aleria's attention soon.
They all would, Aleria realised with a weary inwardness. Too many injured, too few hands to aid them properly. The attack had been brutal in its swiftness and ferocity - the raiders striking with the element of surprise before melting back into the night, fleeing Bernard's retaliation.
Aleria's lips pressed into a tight line as her gaze swept over the rows upon rows of battered bodies. Those were the fortunate ones, at least. Those who still drew breath, no matter how laboured.
A dozen sheets, each stark white and crisply folded, lay in solemn repose amidst the chaos. Simple shrouds concealing the faces of the fallen, pulled respectfully up by the volunteers who'd carried them out to the courtyard, so that room could be made for the living.
Thankfully, the goblins that had fallen to her cursed blade had provided her with more than enough life force to fuel her spells through the night.
In the years since the war's end, she'd let that overflowing reservoir of stolen power dwindle down to merely her own mana. But tonight, she'd needed the spare energies, tainted as they were by the goblins' monstrous bodies.
Aleria only hoped that in the confusion and panic of battle nobody recognized her magics for what they were - that she was not in fact what she claimed to be.
Aleria placed a comforting hand on Haddy's shoulder as the younger woman tended to a man's burns - earned in the effort of dousing the fires that had erupted during the raid. Haddy flinched slightly at the unexpected contact, but relaxed when she glanced up and met Aleria's reassuring gaze.
Haddy and the volunteers had been a tremendous help, seeing to the smaller injuries so Aleria could save her focus and energy for the traumatic wounds. Still, Aleria could sense Haddy's growing weariness, the strain of hours spent wrapping bandages and applying salves taking its toll. A bead of sweat trickled down the woman's brow as she worked, her hands trembling ever so slightly.
"You're doing well, Haddy," Aleria murmured, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But don't push yourself too far."
Haddy managed a weary smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Not plannin' on goin' anywhere, m'lady. Still got a fair few wounds to treat yet."
With a final squeeze of thanks to Haddy's shoulder, Aleria made her way towards the narrow staircase that wound up to the clinic's third floor and her chambers. Each step sent a dull ache radiating up her calves, a reminder of how long she'd been on her feet tending to the endless stream of injured.
The din from the makeshift wards faded as she climbed higher, the groans and whimpers giving way to silence save for the soft tread of her boots. Aleria exhaled a weary breath, rolling her shoulders in a futile effort to loosen the knot of tension that had taken up residence between her shoulder blades.
She would return to the lower floors soon enough, but first she needed to check on the girl and her brother.
She could already hear the faint sounds of pained whimpering as she neared the threshold. Steeling herself, Aleria slipped inside.
The girl lay atop the bed, her tiny frame swallowed up by the rumpled sheets and coarse wool blankets piled atop her. Even in the dim candlelight, Aleria could make out the sheen of sweat that bathed the child's brow, her eyes screwed shut as she writhed in discomfort.
Her brother perched vigil at her bedside, where he had been all night. He looked up as Aleria entered, his face drawn with fatigue and worry.
"She won't stop crying'," he said, his voice tremulous. "I tried everythin', but..."
Aleria met the boy's anxious gaze with a reassuring smile, though her heart clenched at the fear etched across his young features. "What's your name, child?"
"T-Tam, ma'am," he stammered, scrubbing at his reddened eyes with the back of his hand. "An' that's my sister, Lia."
Nodding, Aleria crossed the small room to stand beside the bed. She leaned over, gently brushing aside the sweat-dampened strands of hair that clung to Lia's forehead. The girl didn't stir at her touch, her breath coming in rapid pants.
Aleria pressed the back of her hand against Lia's brow, frowning at the feverish heat that radiated from her skin. When she had deposited the children in her quarters earlier that night, the clinic already overflowing with the more critically wounded, Lia's wounded leg had seemed a trifling concern by comparison.
Aleria had staunched the bleeding and hastily bandaged the ragged bite wound, intent on returning once the direst cases had been seen to. But in the chaos and frantic pace of triage, she had treated the situation like just another battlefield, prioritising those on the brink of death over lesser injuries.
A mistake, she realised now with a leaden weight settling in her gut. The warg's fangs must have been tainted, poisoned by the foul corruption that seeped through their unnatural hides. And in her haste, she had not properly cleansed and disinfected the jagged punctures before binding them.
Now, infection had set in, Lia's body consumed by fevered delirium as her small form fought against the vileness raging through her veins.
Aleria turned to Tam, her expression softening as she met the boy's frightened gaze. "Tam, I need you to run downstairs for me. Go through the treatment area until you reach the supply room at the end of the hall."
She paused, realising a crucial oversight. "Can you read?"
Tam shook his head mutely, his lower lip trembling.
Without wasting another moment, Aleria crossed to the small writing desk crammed against the far wall. She snatched up a scrap of parchment and a stub of charcoal, scribbling out the words 'Elf's Bloom' in a hasty but legible hand.
"I need you to find a jar with these words on the label," she instructed, pressing the parchment into Tam's hand and gently closing his fingers around it. "Can you do that for me?"
Tam's eyes widened at the weight of responsibility, but he gave a resolute nod. "Y-yes, ma'am."
"Good lad," Aleria said with an encouraging smile. "Don't delay now, your sister needs that medicine."
Tam didn't need to be told twice. Clutching the parchment tightly, he turned and dashed from the room, his footsteps fading rapidly down the corridor.
Aleria moved with swift purpose, retrieving a clean cloth from the washbasin nestled in the corner. She plunged it into the cool water, submerging it fully before withdrawing the sodden fabric and giving it a firm twist to wring out the excess.
Turning back to the bed, she perched on the edge of the mattress beside Lia. The little girl's face was flushed and beaded with sweat, her brow creased in a pained frown as she shifted restlessly atop the sheets.
With deft fingers, Aleria began to unwind the soiled bandages wrapped hastily around Lia's calf. The linen fell away in tattered strips, stained dark with dried and seeping blood.
Gingerly, Aleria used the damp cloth to dab at the oozing punctures, blotting away the fresh blood and grime. Lia whimpered at the contact, her eyelids fluttering, but did not fully rouse from her fevered delirium.
The pounding of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor, heralding Tam's return. The boy burst through the doorway, chest heaving from his frantic dash, a small glass jar gripped tightly in one hand.
Aleria straightened, as Tam held out the container. She plucked it from his grasp, squinting to make out the faded label in the dim candlelight.
A tight smile tugged at the corners of Aleria's mouth as she nodded in approval. "Well done, Tam. You're a great help."
She held the jar out to him once more. "Now, I need you to open this up and take out two of the dried flowers inside. Chew on them thoroughly until they become a paste in your mouth, but don't swallow."
Tam's brow furrowed in trepidation, but he dutifully twisted off the lid and peered inside at the shrivelled blue petals. With a grimace, he pinched out two of the withered blooms and popped them into his mouth, his cheeks puffing out as he began to chew obediently.
Aleria could see the distaste writ plain across his features as the bitter taste no doubt flooded his senses. But to his credit, the boy persevered, his jaw working methodically to grind the dried flowers into a viscous paste.
"That's it," Aleria murmured encouragingly. "Once you've got them properly chewed, I need you to take that paste and place it in your sister's mouth, on her tongue. Can you do that for me?"
Tam's eyes widened slightly at the request, but he gave a solemn nod. Scooting closer to Lia's bedside, he leaned over her prone form. With trembling fingers, he gently pried apart her lips.
Carefully, mindful not to let any of the precious paste dribble free, Tam deposited the mashed blooms onto Lia's tongue. He grimaced again as a few stray flecks clung to his fingertips.
Finishing her cleaning of the wound, Aleria reached out, cupping the back of Lia's skull to help guide the unconscious girl through the motions of swallowing the herbs. After a few tense moments, Lia's throat convulsed in a reflexive gulp, and the paste vanished down her gullet.
"There, that should help ease her suffering while I tend to the wound," Aleria said with an approving nod. "Grab a clean cloth and try to keep her cool."
Aleria focused her magic, letting the tendrils of power unfurl and delve into Lia's ravaged leg. She could sense the vile taint that had taken root - a foul, writhing corruption that lashed out as her magic sought to purge it.
Aleria poured more of her will into the effort, envisioning the emerald filaments of her power ensnaring and smothering that reeking miasma. Bead by bead, she scoured away the insidious infection, banishing it from Lia's frail body.
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It was a slow effort clearing the taint from her blood, but she did not relent until every last tendril of corruption had been expunged. Only then did she pivot her magic's focus to knitting together the ragged flesh and sealing the jagged punctures.
"There," she murmured, drawing back with an exhale. "That should set her on the mend."
Lia's pallid features had already regained a hint of colour, the heat of fever slowly receding. Her pained grimace had smoothed, giving way to the slack repose of restful slumber.
Tam peered up at Aleria with a mixture of awe and gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you," he said fervently. "I didn't know what..."
His voice trailed off, unable to give voice to the fear that had gripped him. Instead, he turned his attention back to his sister, carefully blotting away the beads of sweat from her brow.
Aleria watched him for a moment, a pang of empathy tightening her chest. The two children had already endured so much hardship tonight, pain that she'd never wish on a child.
"Tam," she said gently, drawing the boy's gaze once more. "If you don't mind my asking..., do you and Lia have any family out there? Parents who might be looking for you both?"
Tam's expression clouded, a shadow passing over his young features. Slowly, he shook his head, his movements heavy with a weight far beyond his years.
"No, ma'am," he said, his voice subdued. "Our dad... died in the war. An' our mum..." He swallowed hard. "She got sick, 'bout a summer ago. There's no one else."
A lump formed in Aleria's throat at the boy's simple admission. Impulsively, she reached out to grasp Tam's hand where it rested on the bed sheets, giving his slender fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
"You've been so brave," she said, her voice soft but impassioned. "I promise you, your sister will get better..."
At that, Tam seemed to break, losing what little composure he'd held together. He began to cry, great heaving sobs that wracked his slender frame as the floodgates burst open.
"I was so scared," he confessed between hiccupping gasps, his words tumbling forth in a breathless rush. "When the monsters chased us... Lia couldn't run as fast an' then... then it grabbed her."
Instinctively, Aleria tightened her grasp on the boy's hand, offering what small comfort and reassurance she could through the simple gesture. She remained silent, allowing him to pour out the harrowing feelings that had clearly been bottled up.
"I-I thought she was going to die," Tam stammered, his voice cracking with raw emotion. "That beast was going to tear her apart right in front o' me and there was nothin' I could do!"
His next words emerged in a strangled wail, anguished and laced with self-recrimination. "I shoulda' protected her! I'm the big brother. Mum said I'm supposed to keep her safe!"
Aleria felt her heart clench in her chest at the depths of Tam's guilt and anguish. Without a second thought, she rose from the bed and moved to gather the distraught boy into her embrace.
Tam went rigid at the unexpected contact at first, his breath hitching in his throat. But then, like a dam bursting, he seemed to crumple inwards, all the tension and fear he'd been bottling up unleashing in a torrent.
With a choked sob, he flung his arms around Aleria, burying his face against the coarse fabric of her tunic as he wept unabashedly. Aleria simply held him close, one hand cradling the back of his head in a maternal gesture as she murmured soft, soothing reassurances.
"Shh, it's alright now, child," she crooned, rocking him gently from side to side. "You were so brave, I saw you try to save her. You did the right thing - you survived. And because of that, your sister lives as well."
Tam's slender frame shuddered against her, his tears slowly ebbing though the occasional hiccup still hitched his breathing. Slowly, gradually, the tension bled from his muscles until he sagged bonelessly in her embrace, utterly spent.
Aleria guided Tam to the bed, gently easing the boy down to sit beside his slumbering sister. With a tender hand on his shoulder, she urged him to stretch out on the mattress.
"Rest now, child," she said in a hushed murmur. "You've had a long night, but you and your sister are safe here. I'll keep watch over you both."
Tam's eyelids were already drooping, the emotional upheaval and long night leaving him drained. He offered no resistance as Aleria tucked the coarse blankets snugly around him, cocooning him in their warmth alongside Lia.
Nestled amidst the rumpled bedding, his face finally smoothed into an expression of peace, the worries and fears that had plagued him melting away into the oblivion of slumber.
For a time, Aleria remained seated at their bedside, her gaze drifting between the two siblings as she listened to the gentle cadence of their breathing. Tam's lips had parted slightly, the faintest whistle of a snore passing between them with each exhale.
Only once she was certain they had both drifted into a deep, restful sleep did Aleria finally rise from her vigil. She moved with a quiet grace, taking care not to allow the wooden floor to creak beneath the tread of her boots.
At the threshold, she paused, turning to cast one last glance over her shoulder at the siblings swaddled amidst the blankets. A fleeting pang of tenderness tightened her chest as she drank in the sight.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Aleria's mouth as she committed the scene to memory. Then, with a silent exhale, she turned and slipped from the chamber, pulling the door closed with a soft click behind her.
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Aleria sat on the front steps of the clinic, fingers idling with her iron pendant as she watched the sun rise and mingle with the wisps of smoke still lingering from the extinguished fires.
She'd long since sent Haddy home for a well-deserved rest after the chaos of the night and burned through the last of her excess mana - and then some - to keep herself awake and tending to the wounded.
Villagers were now returning to their homes, many soot-stained from battling the blazes that had erupted across Last Gate, while others bore the telltale marks of battle. Bloodied and bone-tired, these weary souls trudged past with slumped shoulders, dismissed by Bernard's garrison soldiers now that the threat and searches for lingering goblin raiders had quelled.
Aleria's gaze drifted over the battered townscape, cataloguing the scars left in the wake of the attack. Scorched timbers and shattered glass, scattered debris - all would need to be cleared and repaired in the coming days. A heavy sigh slipped past her lips at the thought of the monumental task ahead, her lashes drifting closed for a moment as fatigue weighed heavily upon her.
Aleria's fleeting rest was interrupted by a gruff, halting voice cutting through the quiet morning.
"Kurg come... see if can help cuts. But look too tired."
Eyelids fluttering open, she found herself staring up at the towering form of the blacksmith, Kurg. The hulking orc seemed even more immense from her seated position, his frame silhouetted against the pale dawn light. With his mammoth stature, the blood caked sledge gripped in one meaty fist looked almost comically small, like a child's toy in his grasp.
Kurg's broad features were marred by a myriad of shallow wounds and smudged with soot, as if he'd been caught in the thick of the fighting. The scent of charred hair and sweat wafted down to Aleria. For all his intimidating presence, his yellow eyes held a look of concern as he regarded her with a furrowed brow.
Forcing herself to straighten, Aleria mustered what remained of her energy and rose on unsteady legs to face him properly. "I'm alright. Just... resting my eyes for a moment."
Kurg's shook his head, a small cloud of soot puffing from his matted hair. "No... can come different time. Cuts not bad. Had worse."
She glanced up at him, blinking away the haze of fatigue that threatened to cloud her vision. she waved him towards the clinic entrance. "Nonsense. Let me have a look at least."
Turning, she moved to lead the way inside, only to halt after a few paces through the door as her gaze swept over the chaos within. Every available surface, from the examination tables to rickety chairs was occupied by the wounded, - their ranks swelling beyond the clinic's capacity to contain them all. A frown creased her brow as she realised there was nowhere suitable to treat the hulking orc's injuries.
Her eyes raked over the cluttered interior, searching for something sturdy enough to support Kurg's immense bulk. At last, her gaze settled on an empty wooden stool tucked away in the corner, its thick legs and broad seat seeming up to the task. Nodding to herself, Aleria crossed the room and retrieved it, gesturing for Kurg to take a seat as she dragged it towards the entry.
The simple stool groaned in protest as the blacksmith lowered his tremendous weight onto it, the aged wood creaking ominously beneath him. But it held firm, granting Aleria an elevated vantage to inspect the various cuts and scrapes marring his soot-stained features.
Aleria's fingers traced over the various lacerations crisscrossing Kurg's craggy hide, her brow furrowing in concentration as she channelled her mana to knit the flesh back together. One by one, the angry red gashes sealed shut under her ministrations, leaving only faint pink lines in their wake.
"Goblins not much fight," Kurg rumbled with a gruff chuckle, his meaty hand coming up to inspect her handiwork.
Despite his joking tone, Aleria's lips remained a tight line as she continued her work in silence. The orc's thick skin had indeed protected him from the worst of the blades, but his cuts - though shallow - were many.
"Kurg's boy, Bran need wife," Kurg stated matter-of-factly, his words shattering the quiet that had settled between them after a while.
Aleria's hands stilled momentarily at the unexpected statement, her gaze flicking up to meet his yellow eyes. She gave a small, tired nod to indicate she'd heard, but said nothing as she resumed sealing a particularly deep gash along his shoulder.
Seemingly undeterred by her lack of response, Kurg pressed on. "You good woman, strong woman. Kurg saw you kill goblin and warg - save childs. Make good wife for Bran."
Aleria spluttered at Kurg's remark, nearly choking on her own spittle. His first statement that he saw her fighting would have given her pause - she didn't recall seeing the massive orc amongst the tents where she'd found Tam and Lia. The battle had been chaotic, however, so it wasn't unreasonable that she might have missed his hulking presence amidst the chaos. But his second statement, that she'd make a good wife for Bran... where in the hells had that come from?
Her brows knitted together as she met Kurg's steady gaze, searching the impassive lines of his soot-stained features for any hint of jest or mockery. But the blacksmith's expression remained earnest, his eyes open and sincere as they held her own.
Heat prickled at Aleria's cheeks despite her weariness. "I... that is..." She trailed off, struggling to find the words to respond to such an unexpected proposition. Her fingers stilled their healing work as her mind raced.
Kurg watched her impassively, seemingly unbothered by her floundering reaction. When she didn't immediately continue, he gave a slow nod and rumbled, "Strong bloodline. Many childs."
If anything, the heat in Aleria's face intensified at his blunt addendum. By the Nine Hells, was he truly suggesting...? Her lips parted, though what she intended to say, she couldn't rightly articulate.
Aleria took a steadying breath, willing the flush in her cheeks to subside as she met Kurg's gaze. "I'm... flattered that you think so highly of me, Kurg. Truly." She chose her words carefully, not wishing to cause offence. "But things are a bit more complicated than simply being both strong."
The burly orc let out a heavy sigh that seemed to emanate from deep within his barrel chest. "Bran say same thing, many time." A flicker of something like disappointment crossed his weathered features before his expression settled into a ponderous frown. "Not understand why complicated. When orc man think orc woman strong, they mates."
Aleria opened her mouth to respond, but Kurg barreled on, his gruff tones taking on a wistful edge. "Bran mother not orc. Elf woman. But when both flee demons, we fight together. Make love. Boom - Bran." A ghost of a smile played at the corners of his mouth at the memory. "She good wife… till die."
The healer felt her chest tighten at the unvarnished sorrow laced through Kurg's final words. For all his hulking stature and gruff demeanour, in that moment she glimpsed the vulnerability of a widower still mourning his lost love. Her throat worked, but no words came as she found herself at an uncharacteristic loss for how to respond.
Kurg nodded, seemingly pleased that she understood his intent. "Bran good man, but Bran need woman with good head sense." He tapped a meaty finger against his temple with an emphatic thunk. "You smart, you... Shaman? Kurg not know word..."
"Healer," Aleria supplied, her voice soft and unsure as to why she was even playing along with the orc's musings.
"Yes Healer..." Kurg rumbled, the word rolling off his tongue with the gruff cadence of one still mastering the language. "You smart to be healer. Bran need that. Would make Kurg happy to see."
A small, weary smile tugged at the corners of Aleria's mouth at his earnest statement. In that moment the blacksmith was simply a doting father, eager to see his only son settled with a capable partner.
With a shake of her head, Aleria ran her fingers over the last of the sealed cuts, making sure the thick hide had knitted together firmly. Satisfied with her work, she met Kurg's expectant gaze.
"I'm... I think I see where you are coming from," She chose her words carefully, not wanting to cause offence. "But truth be told, I've only met Bran the once, and briefly at that. I don't feel it would be right to entertain such a... proposal when we're little more than acquaintances."
The burly orc, seeming to completely miss her point, gave a slow nod of understanding. "Kurg see. You not know Bran." He let out a rumbling chuckle that reverberated in his broad chest. "Is okay. Kurg send Bran, so you get to know better."
Aleria's brow furrowed at his response, her mouth opening to protest, but Kurg had already leveraged his immense bulk off the groaning stool. Towering over her once more, he fixed Aleria with an earnest look.
"Thank you for healering Kurg." His meaty paw engulfed her slim shoulder with a surprising gentleness. "You do good thing here."
With that, the hulking blacksmith turned and lumbered towards the clinic entrance, leaving Aleria staring after him in bewilderment. Just... what in the hells had happened?
She raised a hand to her brow, giving her head a little shake as if to dispel the utter confusion clouding her thoughts. Kurg couldn't possibly be serious about... about whatever it was he was implying, could he? Surely, he didn't actually intend to send Bran courting at her door, did he?
The mere notion was utterly absurd. She let out a mirthless chuckle, she needed sleep… She must be hallucinating…