“Are they usually this loud?” Syllis questioned Clyde who seemed astonished at the applause. She heaved and cooled her various wounds, trying to find a stable breathing rhythm.

Clyde continued to stare forward, not turning to the secare nymph. “No. No they aren’t.”

Clyde began walking towards the group of spectators and Syllis teetered behind, sometimes slowing down or speeding up.

‘Lesson for the future, don’t get slashed in the thigh…’ Syllis laughed wryly. Still in somewhat of a shock, she had another thought. ‘I really lost. I lost. I lost the spar… When’s the last time that happened?’

Suddenly, she viewed the boy in front of her in a different light. He didn’t seem the naive noble that he had appeared to be at first. Rather, that was almost like the guise put on by a lethal beast.

“Incredible young lord!” Several of Clyde’s stewards chirped. They praised the young boy for his battle against the secare nymph.

The longer that everybody praised Clyde the more uncomfortable Syllis grew. Not only in terms of her physical wounds but more so her mental state. Clyde had been so welcoming to her thus far and now she felt like an outsider.

Syllis didn’t know how to stand, how far away to sit, where to get patched up. It was dizzying to be surrounded by such a large group of people. Especially for someone who lived on the outer ring.

Eventually the crowd pulled back and left to go continue with their daily tasks, though murmurs could still be heard. “That nymph was pretty good too…” Finally, Syllis had been sung some praise but eventually that faded as their footsteps could no longer be heard.

“So how about a doctor’s visit?” Clyde looked to Syllis with concern. His eyes lingered over several of her wounds which seemed to ignite guilt within before he looked away.

“That would be nice…” Syllis spoke quietly, not with her same steady low tone from before. Instead, she sounded distracted and far away from reality.

Syllis followed behind Clyde as he led her towards his Anathemic doctor. A bizarre thought formed in her mind. ‘If Clyde has a bond so peculiar and powerful, do his friends have similar ones?’

“Clyde, would you mind if I asked you something a little… Personal.” Her eyes darted. It was indeed an odd question to ask someone you’ve only known for a few hours.

The man in front of her grew flustered. His cheeks puffed up in a rosy color and his eyes mirrored the movements of Syllis’ own. “U-uh… Yeah i-it’s fine.”

‘What’s up with this guy? His behavior makes no sense…’

“Alright then… Do you have any friends with Anathemic bonds?” Syllis asked plainly, watching the man’s face.

“Oh, uh. Of course I have some of them…” His voice trailed out. It seemed that Clyde wasn’t exactly expecting that question.

‘What did he think I was going to ask?’ Syllis continued following Clyde without any more unexpected questions. She contemplated asking about their bonds. What they did, how long they could be sustained. She was looking for more equally daunting opponents to potentially spar with.

Unfortunately for Syllis, she ultimately decided against it. Anathemic bonds were highly private. How you attained an Anathema was typically a traumatic event. Every battle they fought against their Anathema certainly left a few scars. Even finding a ritualist that was sufficient was a near fruitless endeavor to undertake. Because of this, people liked to keep their bonds hidden. Not revealing them to anyone but close friends and family.

‘Such a shame…’ Syllis thought before her and Clyde eventually stepped into a spacious room.

Unlike the rest of the estate, the walls of this room were not shades of grey. They were a pristine white which beamed good health. Several comfortable looking beds loomed in a corner of the room and a desk accompanied with several vials and pieces of paper fit nicely opposite them.

Of course, the seat was occupied. An older man was currently jotting down notes on one of these papers murmured unintelligibly. His hair was longer than normal and was speckled with the occasional white hair. He couldn’t have been any older than his mid fifties.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Edward.” Clyde called out to the older man. Though his voice didn’t contain the usual enthusiasm as it normally had. “I’m sorry for showing up again. I couldn’t help sparring…” He scratched his head before looking away.

A couple moments of silence followed before a sigh left the man’s mouth. “It’s alright Clyde. I know how much you love to spar.” A warm smile appeared on the man’s face, if only for a moment.

“That I do. And she seems to as well.” Clyde pointed towards the battered nymph. Her clothes were torn in several places, namely her left side and inner thigh.

The doctor leaned in further, wheeling his chair closer. “I will say though Clyde…” His eyes narrowed. “This one seems to have roughed you up more than usual…” Edward’s gaze lingered on several wounds and his voice trailed off.

Suddenly, Syllis felt overcome with praise. It was everything she had silently been begging for from the group spectating the spar. Instantly, she felt that it was worth it. The battered bruises and crimson bleached cuts were nothing when given the slightest acknowledgement.

Now, Syllis knew that she had to try as hard as she could to get involved with this group. There were several people with anathemic bonds, and powerful ones at that. Just the thought of another battle as invigorating as the last was intoxicating to say the least.

Unable to resist, Syllis spoke. “You know they call me the siren.” She examined the confused expression of Clyde and looked to Edward.

The man seemed stunned, his lips wavered slightly as he steadily breathed in and out. Only a minute later he seemed to be back to normal.

‘Weird.’ Syllis remarked before speaking again. “I know it’s not the most amazing name ever.” Her expression grew more sullen. She hadn’t evoked the reaction that she’d intended.

Clyde shook his head and simply walked towards the secare nymph. He leaned into her ear and whispered a few words.

Syllis’ face brightened. ‘I- I didn’t know… I’ll have to stop the spread of that name. Who started it again…’ She cursed the originators of such a promiscuous nickname.

“Anyways how about we stop bleeding on your floor, Edward?” Clyde turned a flush Syllis around and spoke to the older man.

“I think that would be nice…” His voice trailed off like he was in the middle of intense thought. He stroked the slight stubble under his chin before garnering a few tools.

Mere minutes later, both Clyde and Syllis were lying down on parallel beds. Both were out of their bloodsoaked, noble clothes. Now they wore the standard treatment clothing which consisted of a long blue gown fastened at the back with a few knotted strings.

Edward, who had been seated at Clyde’s bed for a while now, gasped. “Clyde, just where did you find such a dangerous woman…” He spoke carefully as he wove a silver needle in and out of his patient.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you!” Clyde laughed before wincing at the slight pain that the needle pinged every time it pierced his light skin.

It seemed that Edward’s anathemic bond didn’t have the greatest form of pain numbing despite that being the most widely sought after trait in a doctor.

Syllis turned away and looked towards the stone roof. ‘Why would this wealthy boy have a doctor with such an inadequate bond?’ Even in the outer ring Syllis had met a couple of doctors with bonds that outshone Edward’s. Their rates must have been half his as well.

It was only after he began mending her wounds that Syllis understood his value.

Edward pulled at the curtain that separated both combatants. The blue cloth wafted slightly before he pulled it closed again. This time, his chair was wheeled over to the side of the battered, secare nymph’s bed.

“Clyde messed you up pretty bad too. How can two people meet hours earlier, and then beat each other to what would usually be near death.” Edward sighed before speaking again. “And I’m going to need you to stop that…”

He pointed towards the wound that penetrated Syllis’ side. It was frozen over and crudely maintained to stop the flow of blood and keep her together.

Syllis blinked a couple times before looking down at her wound. “Oh, sorry?” The gaping slash gradually returned to room temperature. Slowly dismissing the cold spell placed upon it.

Without wasting any time. Edward immediately began treatment. He held his firmly on top of the wound and an odd sensation raged within Syllis.

At first it was gentle and soothing, then it grew more irrational, violent even. Eventually it tore at her insides. She wanted to scream but her mouth didn’t move. ‘What kind of idiot would wail in pain while they’re being mended?’

As soon as the pain subsided, Syllis took a deep breath. She understood why the man in front of her was the contracted doctor of this noble family. The only slight pings of pain now were the silver needle pulling her flesh together.

Her wound had entirely closed, no blood to speak of and certainly nothing internally that was left unattended. Normally, Syllis would need to use her bond to alleviate some of the pain that anathemic doctors left behind. Be it a slight cut they missed or wounds that couldn’t be dealt with.

However, this was the worst injury she’d ever sustained and it had been dealt with flawlessly. Though it was also the most painful way she’d been treated. ‘This lunatic…’ Edward possessed a unique bond to heal tremendous damage with the caveat of the patient feeling all of the pain that they would have experienced in that wound’s lifespan, in a matter of minutes.

‘Bastard, how could I not be warned of something so dastardly.’ Syllis cursed him out before then thinking of the possibilities. ‘Imagine damaging an enemy before healing them and then killing them while they are preoccupied with the pain.

It was indeed a devious ability to possess. Syllis could only be thankful she wasn’t on the wrong end of it.