Through wisdom, or fear, or perhaps just luck, the boys lay flat on their backs, filled with pain. Through the pain, Ozlo noticed something interesting. Something that made him ignore the sensations of the arrows piercing him and crawl through the grass towards.

Elizabeth's card slowly left her body and fell to the ground near where she lay. "Healing!" This simple thought ran through Ozlo's head. If he could just get that card, he could be healed. Or at least healed enough that he could live, maybe. But first he had to get there.

Crawling on his hands and knees towards his only hope of salvation, Ozlo did his best to ignore the pain. After what felt like ages, but in reality was a few short seconds, Ozlo grabbed her card and slotted it without hesitation.

Lesser Healing: Rank common, active/skill.

Activating this card heals one entity a small amount based on the level of the skill and the knowledge of the user.

Current Level: 1

Required Soul Shards to level 0/10

"Level one? Why is it level one? I could have sworn she said it was level 2 earlier back... Back when she was alive. FOCUS!" Gritting his teeth and looking down at his chest, Ozlo painfully and clumsily extracted the three arrows from his chest before activating his new card.

"Huh..." A tingling sensation filled his chest and his wounds started to slowly close. Ozlo slid onto his back closing his eyes when he remembered where he was. "SHIT!" Crawling forward, doing his best to avoid becoming a pincushion for the second time this day, Ozlo approached John and Andrew to find them still drawing labored breaths.

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John appeared to be in much rougher shape, so Ozlo took care of him first. After extricating the arrows and casting lesser heal he started to feel dizzy and his vision grew dim. "Can't stop now, if I do, Andrew will die." Bracing himself for the wave of discomfort that was sure to follow. Ozlo repeated the same steps with Andrew before promptly passing out.

***

"So, you're a filthy fucking thief?" Ozlo came to in a white tent on a small cot surrounded by injured men. "Did you hear me boy?" Glancing up at the face of a large angry man with blood covering his white robes, Ozlo came to the realization that he was the person being spoken to.

"What?" Ozlo eloquently replied. Rubbing his chin, the robed man rephrased his statement. "Did you take that card from Elizabeth boy? How did you get it?" Racking his brain, the reality finally set in. Sitting up painfully, Ozlo started asking a series of his own questions.

"Where is Andrew, or John? Where's Boyd? Elizabeth, she's dead right? What about the battle?" Holding up a hand to stymy the barrage of questions flying his way, the older man responded. "Calm down, your friends are fine. Your captain is fine. Elizabeth is... Ahem." The gruff man cleared his throat and looked away before continuing. "Ahem, Elizabeth is dead, that much is true. That's kind of why I'm asking these questions."

The older man sat down and took a large breathe before continuing. "Ahem, I may have come on too strong. The name is Miller. And I'm a healer. I'm aware it rhymes, but now isn't the time. So as to Elizabeth, did you cause her death?"

Ozlo responded, doing his best to retell what happened. "And so she was dead and her card appeared and I slotted it so that I could heal my friends." Miller listened calmly, though at times his pale hands turned even paler from gripping the arms of the chair.

"I see, I see. So she died and you claimed her card due to exigent circumstances. Understood. Your friends should be awake soon. And before you ask, no you can't see them. No you can't help out with the healing. And no, no you can't get up. Stay in your cot and heal. Understood?"

Too tired to argue Ozlo did just that, he got into as comfortable of a position as he could manage given the circumstances, and fell into another deep slumber.