“There are many, many things that people will find to be worse than death. Trust me. I’d know.” - Saying attributed to the Silver Maiden.

To say that Elfriede was nearly frustrated out of her mind would have been a massive understatement.

It had been a full two days after the assassination attempt, and her life for the past couple of days had been an experience she’d have categorized as worse than death. It wasn’t even the breathing trouble that plagued her. That resolved itself a few hours after the incident and she found herself able to breathe normally once more, if rather slowly and weakly.

No, it was being confined to a bed while reduced to utter uselessness that she could not stand.

Naturally, that was not all. The sheer indignity of having to have someone else aid her with her own ablutions was an utter embarrassment that made Elfriede wish there was a hole in the ground for her to disappear to. There was no other option, however, as while her subconscious muscle reflexes like breathing returned to normal, she still couldn’t actively move any part of her body besides her eyes.

At least they spared her some dignity as instead of having a stranger do it, Varsha thankfully volunteered to take care of her during that time. Being taken care of by her own grandmother – despite their pretty unusual relationship – softened the blow of the necessity of having someone else to clean her bottom like she was a baby as an adult. Elfriede would have probably chosen to kill herself if it was a stranger who did that.

The feeling had returned to her body on the first night. However, while she could feel her limbs once more, she found that she couldn’t move them. Mæster Goerenbrandt had declared that her life should be in no danger, but it might take a few more days before Elfriede regained control over her limbs properly, at the earliest.

It was a torturous period of time for her, to say the least.

Frustration built up as she was confined to bed, unable to move herself in any worthwhile manner. The first area of her body that she regained control over was her head, which she noticed as she woke up the next day after the incident. That at least allowed her to eat properly, even if she had to be fed by someone as her arms were still useless.

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Her speech was still slurred and unintelligible on that first day, but she made up for that by manipulating the sounds with the wind to make them intelligible. That allowed her to converse with Varsha to help while away the time, at the very least. She asked her grandmother if it was fine for the Mayor to be away from her office for days on end, but Varsha had just laughed and said that there was a reason she groomed Annelise to be her successor after all.

Sensations and a semblance of control started to return to her fingers around the evening of the second day. Elfriede immediately forced her body to move those fingers and toes as much as she could, until they grew numb and tired, in an effort to further stimulate her recovery. Even with all her efforts, she only managed to slightly move her hands and feet by that day’s end, however.

Reinhardt, Erycea, and Alycea visited her often during those days of convalescence, though they were thoughtful enough to make sure she wasn’t disturbed otherwise. After their decades of being together, Reinhardt knew all too well that such a display of weakness was something Elfriede would be loath to ever show anyone, and even having them see it was already something that greatly annoyed her.

“Any news?” Elfriede asked when Reinhardt and Erycea visited her on the afternoon of the second day after the assassination attempt. They didn’t bring Alycea along because the two were just back from a search, and were going on another after their visit. One of the assassins – the marksman who shot the enchanted bolt – had apparently managed to hide themselves despite the precautions taken. Repeated searches over and around had yet to find the assassin in question.

“Nothing yet. It was like that bastard vanished into thin air,” grumbled Reinhardt. They had captured ten of the assassins alive, including the leader of the band – the escapee Erycea caught – and killed another five, but the last marksman still eluded their hunt. “He must be hiding somewhere in the area, as we scoured and stationed guards at every exit from there, both aboveground and underground, but we can’t seem to find him. Not even the dwarves managed to.”

Several dwarven earth affinity mages had helped the Free Lances scour the area where the assassin disappeared in search of hidden passages and the like, but they failed to discover anything. That meant that the assassin was either hidden in a magic-dampened chamber – not an unlikely possibility given the relative wealth of the assassin crew – or that he had already escaped.

Given that Reinhardt had stationed his own men as guards on every exit of the city – including the underwater cavern Elfriede used in her infiltration a decade ago, which was patrolled by Loren and a handful of half-merfolk mercenaries – the likelihood of the assassin escaping was low. Doubly so since Varsha and Lothar had declared a lockdown on the city until the assassin was caught.

It was catching that assassin that proved to be a problem, and that was despite how many of the local citizens had passionately joined the search in high spirits.

“Take me with you. Bring me over to the area that fucker disappeared in,” said Elfriede from her bed. She was able to move her lower arms and legs somewhat by then, but was still unable to do much by herself. That said, the paralytic poison had no real effect on her magical capabilities, and there was no other wind mage who honed their wind-based senses to her level in the city. “I want to catch that rat bastard myself and skin it.”