Michael

Poke poke.

Michael scowled as someone poked him on the cheek over and over again. Just a moment ago he had been sitting at a table, completely lost in his book and now he was lying down with his eyes closed. He wasn’t even able to say goodbye to Thomas.

His eyes opened slowly as another poke found its mark and he looked at his tormentor. Eydis was sitting there with a bored expression and her hand raised for another casual assault.

“Could you please not?” Michael asked with a hoarse voice.

Eydis looked at him surprised and then jumped onto the bed to embrace him. They both hissed due to their individual injuries but ultimately didn’t care.

“Glad to see you,” Michael said after Eydis had retreated to her chair with a happy expression. He inspected her and the multitude of bandages that covered her limbs and torso. “Didn’t Rat reach you in time?”

Eydis looked at him with a darkened expression and signed, “It is a little more complicated that’s that.”

Michael stayed quiet while Eydis wrung for words. “I am a traitor to both sides, now,” she finally signed.

“Why do you say that?” he inquired.

Eydis looked strained as if she was a child about to be lectured. That picture amused Michael with him being the child and her the adult but he didn’t let it show.

“I tried to warn my clan and get them to safety before the attack which makes me a traitor to you, but I didn’t tell them about the attack specifically and then fought against them which makes me a traitor to them,” she explained in a resigned manner. “I know you are gonna tell me that I am not, but everyone is thinking it, I know that.”

Michael looked at her with empathy, he somewhat knew how she felt.

“Then let them think that. Who cares? Those who matter know of your loyalty and those with even an ounce of self-reflection know that they would have likely done the same in your situation. I for one know that I would be hard-pressed to decide between Telios and my family and friends if I ever had to choose.

“I told you from the start that what counts is that you are satisfied with the choices you made. So, are you?”

Eydis nodded. “I would have liked to get them out and if they had been more reasonable, I might have even left with them, but they are not the clan I remember. Please don’t think yourself a second choice, you are not, you all are the family I am glad to have.”

“We are also glad to have you, Eydis,” Michael said. “Let’s leave this behind us. How did the battle conclude?”

Eydi nodded. “It was a complete rout on the Rangda side shortly after Lord Grim reached the camp’s center. I don’t really know the specifics though. I can fetch Geron for you though if you want.”

“That’s good. No need for you to go out, I am fine to go look for them myself,” Michael said and began to roll out of bed. He was still dressed in his gambeson and patted pants, but the rest of his armor had been stripped off him.

Eydis stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a dreadful expression. “You should rest a little more. It has been a long march.”

Michael frowned and inspected his friend’s face suspiciously. “There is something you are not telling me, is there? How long was I asleep for?”

“Only two hours,” she volunteered slowly.

So little, Michael thought confused. It had felt much longer in the library with Thomas. He had been reading and talking for multiple hours at least. Then he remembered that the moment that the spirit wolf touched his soul back with the Vargr-Släkt had also been stretched unnaturally long. It was a subject to ponder on later though, Eydis was still hiding something from him.

“Spit it out, Eydis. The mother hen personality doesn’t fit you,” Michael poked at her with a smirk.

It didn’t lift her mood though as she slowly began to sign. “I am so sorry, Michael. It wasn’t just exhaustion that made you pass out.”

“I know. My soul took some damage,” Michael preceded her explanation to her surprise.

“You know?”

“Surely. I felt something like this before, but it is nothing to be concerned about. I doubt that it was anyone else’s doing but rather my own,” he explained calmly.

“That is not the important part though,” Eydis continued, grabbing Michael’s attention anew. “Kiran said this so you will need to ask him for details, but he said that you would likely not be able to use your magic properly anymore. Something about a damaged sword being expected to break even from normal use.”

This new information gave Michael pause, he hadn’t considered that the damage to his soul could have consequences apart from him being knocked out. It was obvious that that should be the case now that it had been pointed out.

“Do you know for how long?”

Eydis looked him in the eyes with empathy. “Souls do not heal. That is what Lynx said.”

Michael stared at her in disbelief. “Are you telling me that my magic will be crippled for the rest of my life if I don’t want to damage my soul even more?”

It felt wrong somehow. Michael wasn’t convinced that the strain of his magic had caused the damage but with a weakened soul it might not matter.

“I don’t know. I know little about magic or souls, but Lynx said that your soul was unstable before, and with the fracture, it will only become worse. It sounded like they weren’t certain about the effect it would have, though,” Eydis explained.

Michael pondered on that for a moment and then raised his hand in front of him. A small ball of light formed and pulsed in random patterns.

“What are you doing?” Eydis signed alarmed.

“I am testing,” he simply answered and slowly pulled more and more light into his spell.

His mana wasn’t topped off after only two hours of rest, but it would be enough to test out his limits.

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“I don’t know if that is such a good idea. Maybe you should wait to talk with Kiran or Sola,” Eydis tried but Michael ignored her. He knew that it wasn’t strictly the smart move, but he had to know.

He could see Eydis move next to him, but he was too engrossed in watching his mana move to read her words.

As the ball of light grew and pulsed more violently to his command he inspected his mana well closely. He couldn’t see his soul, but mana was closely linked to it which was also why Kiran reasonably suspected that a fracture in his soul could lead to problems.

For now, his mana was running as smoothly as it had just a few hours ago. It was starting to strain a little bit as he forced it into ever more erratic movements, but he could find nothing out of the ordinary nor did he feel any pain.

“Seems fine,” he said absently and then started compressing the mana he had already gathered as much as he could. This would strain him even more as mana never liked pressure differences.

He groaned a little bit as the strain of mentally forcing mana together increased with every moment but still nothing hurt and nothing broke.

After a few more moments of holding the ball, he slowly released the mana into the air to prevent a violent equalization of mana.

I already expected that, he thought to himself. He had just known that his magic was not the cause of his newest problem, but he still couldn’t quite put his finger on what was.

“See I am fine,” Michael said with a genuine smile. Eydis didn’t seem very amused by any of this but abstained from criticizing him.

This time Eydis didn’t stop him when he jumped out of bed and put on his boots.

They left the tent together and the guards in front of it saluted him briskly but also with an air of relief.

Michael nodded to them and then took a short look around. The army had made camp right next to the former Rangda encampment, he couldn’t see too much but they were mostly still working on getting everything up as far as he could see.

A couple of rows down to his right he noticed a larger tent with open walls. It didn’t take much to hear the screams and smell the scent of blood, identifying it as the medical tent.

“Sola wanted to be close to regularly check in on you, which is why we put your tent so close to the healers,” Eydis explained.

“Let’s take a look,” Michael said and strolled over there. This had two purposes, first, he could check in on Sola and secondly, he could get an overview of the number of injured at least.

It was at the same time better and worse than he expected. While the number of injured he found in and around the tent was smaller than expected, the number of those just lying around without being properly treated was high.

Michael changed from a casual walk to a brisk pace and barged into the tent. He could see Sola, his uncle’s court priest Ned, and two more in Idas robes working. Apart from them, at least a dozen soldiers were assisting, but they clearly weren’t overly trained in healing ways.

Sola looked up from the man she was struggling with as Michael entered the tent.

“Michael, come help me here,” she called out at him without even bothering with a greeting.

Michael did just that and looked down at the man lying on his stomach. He was definitely one of the Rangda, but Sola didn’t seem to care. He also had a deep cut spanning from one elbow to the next.

He was honestly surprised that the man was even still alive with the amount of blood he had to have lost until now but then he felt the dim glim of mana burning in his chest.

An oathbound, he realized. Sola was currently sewing the cut as best as she could, but Michael wasn’t sure how he could help her with this man.

“We have too many injured and too few trained healers. Lord Grim told me to ignore the injured Rangda and focus on our people but I can’t do that. We marked the injured with the level of their injuries. White for trivial ones, they get sent away for now. Yellow with more serious but not life-threatening ones. Red for life-threatening. Black for those we can’t help anymore.

“You need to give us a hand. You know more about medicine than any of the soldiers we have been provided. Over there is the red section, find someone to treat,” Sola told him. She was looking exhausted to the bone, blood was covering the front of her robes, her arms, and in smears her face. Her hair was messily bound back and also stained from where she had pushed it away with bloody hands.

Michael nodded and turned to the area she had pointed out to him.

He quickly found a man in a House Grim tabard. He was burned badly on his left side, with parts of his clothes and armor having melted into his wounds.

“Get me some hands and him on a table,” Michael ordered.

He spent the next few minutes showing a duo of soldiers how to cleanly extract the foreign parts from the wounds and then watched them for a while longer. This would take a while, and it would be not in the best interest of everyone if any of the trained personnel spent the next hours helping one man. Michael just hoped that the two men would be able to deal with it.

From the few words they exchanged apart from the instructions, Michael learned that all those soldiers here were those with the most experience in treating injuries, so he had some hope and sent a short prayer for the man to Idas.

Next, he turned to a man with a nearly severed arm. It was just hanging on by some fragments of muscle and the lower part was already changing in color. Michael wasn’t quite sure why he was in the red section, but this wouldn’t take too much of his time at least.

Michael inspected the bandaged stump and with a sigh he announced, “We are gonna have to amputate the rest. It is too far gone to be saved and if it gets infected it might travel up to the still healthy part of you.”

The man was a grim-faced veteran even if he was a little pale from the blood loss and pain. To his credit, he simply nodded.

As Michael worked, he heard his uncle’s voice asking for him and then heavy steps in the dirt.

“Michael, you are up earlier than expected,” he said as he approached the table.

“Can you grab that arm?” Michael said and readied the knife to slice off the other one.

His uncle firmly took hold of the man’s arm and shoulder and then Michael started to cut. It took little more than a moment.

Michael turned to one of his aids and ordered him to clean out the wound and bandage it properly. He then turned to his uncle and smiled.

“Uncle, good to see you unharmed. How did the battle turn out?”

“It was a success in all regards. We caught them by complete surprise and with your barba... with Eydis rampaging through their command staff they couldn’t even hope to strike back,” Lord Grim explained.

“How are the casualties?”

“Eighty-three on our side so far, I can’t give you an exact number on our wounded, but you can make an estimate,” he pointed at the space around him filled with hundreds of injured. They weren’t all their own soldiers but it still. “We estimate something around six to seven hundred on theirs dead and something around four hundred are here or in custody, again I can’t give concrete numbers until we have a clear count.”

“Nearly half their army? And so many prisoners?” Michael asked incredulously. They had planned to rout them, so he had expected their losses to be much smaller.

Lord Grim nodded with a satisfied expression. “It was quite the victory.”

Michael hesitated but then asked anyway, “About our dead. Is there anyone I know personally?”

It sounded cruel as if he didn’t care if any of the hundreds of nameless men marching in this army had died but he couldn’t find better words to ask this specific question.”

His uncle didn’t seem to notice his awkwardness thankfully. “Most of our losses have been with the militia and men-at-arms at the flanks so I doubt it. The injured are another case, the fighting was rough if brief in some sections.”

A memory suddenly shot through Michael’s mind, and he interrupted the other count. “Do you know if Baron Samuel Ragar is alright? I lost sight of him while he fought Cigurt the Giant.”

“I heard about that. I had hoped to face him, but it wasn’t meant to be. Lord Ragar should be around here somewhere. Sir Kilev came to me earlier to report, and he said that his lord got injured heavily but is at least not in life-threatening danger,” Lord Grim said, trying to get ahead of Michael’s worry.

Michael of course wanted to storm off in search of his friend, but Sola and the other medical staff still needed his help.

This will never happen again, he swore to himself. The first thing he would do once back home was establish a new branch of the military for medical support. He knew that their trouble was mostly because they were also treating the wounded enemies, but still, this was a problem he intended to prevent in the future.

“It will be wasted if I say that you should rest, right?” his uncle asked, startling him out of his thoughts.

“I am afraid so. I need to help until we at least have taken care of the grievous wounded,” Michael agreed.

“Well, then let us get started,” he said. After seeing Michael’s confused expression, he added, “I was an adventurer, and you learn how to treat even the worst wounds when you are weeks from friendly civilization. I can’t stay too long, but the rest will manage without us for an hour or two.”

Michael smiled and nodded in agreement before they went to work together.