While I was only at the Nash hospital until the following morning, I was already restless to reunite with my friends. It was one thing when the effort of walking threatened to dump you on the ground and another that your slime companion could somewhat support you like a very squishy exoskeleton to pretend you were more recovered than you looked. Since I managed the latter, Ezrah had no real reason to keep me bedridden. Not that he could, but I didn't want to argue too hard. Him and Dyonte had been the ones I'd built the most rapport with which meant the young satyr had been keeping tabs on me. He didn't seem to mind. Every time the youth talked about the fight against the hurricane an undertone of hero worship slipped into his voice and I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Of course, leaving wasn't the only item of business I had with the Nash even if I wanted to go back to the Embassy.

"She's not all there," Ezrah said. "One of our healers gave her some pain killers when our diagnostics said she needed to heal most of the wounds on her own for risk of permanently affecting her health."

The satyr had reluctantly escorted me to what had once been the office of the chief of critical care on the ground floor. Not exactly surprising, it had zero windows and was being ventilated by some poor elf somewhere else in the building managing the HVAC wherever people were recovering. It didn't matter that the office was just a deluxe single-person bedroom, what mattered was that the Shaman was comfortable and away from anything that might require her to exert herself.

"Thanks, Ezrah. I just need a few minutes to talk to her and I'll be on my way," I said, giving the youth a reassuring tap on the shoulder before knocking on the door.

"I don't want more drugs!" A nasally voice called from within.

"It's Ronan," I said, unable to stop myself from shaking my head at the old woman.

"Bah! Since when are you so polite then! Get your sandy behind in here. It's not like I'll live forever!"

"Uhh," Ezrah searched for words, the sudden worry for the woman spiking in his tone.

"She'll be fine," I told him, looking away from him as I leaned down to open the door with a grimace. My ribs were still on the mend, amongst several other things.

Blobby, ever the best wingslime, pushed the door open instead of letting me do it myself. I wasn't so invalid that I couldn't do it, but a lot of my concentration was on staying standing and feeding Fievil my recovered mana. If the surface had taught me anything it was that it's okay to accept help when one needs it. I gave the slime glommed to my side a thankful poke.

Both walking and channeling mana were tall asks, but if I laid around my body would naturally entomb itself just for the sake of healing faster; ain't nobody got time for that! Beyond my physical weakness, my Refinement was in the dumps, but the night's sleep had topped off my internal pool. The Totem was my biggest leverage against higher Quotient... things, and he'd been set to zero after our fight with Eurus. There was no rest for the wicked, or some such something my uncle would have said.

When I actually stepped into Sharon's room I had to do a double take. Cast in the light from some Life Slime lamps, the Shaman looked more like an embalmed mummy than the powerful mage I knew her to be. Poultices and bandages covered her exposed body while herbal smoke drifted through the room in minty waves from a half dozen incense burners. A deep blue silky robe was tied around her and her bare feet were partly hanging over the end of the medical bed she laid on. It looked more like I was trying to confer with a dead body rather than the matron of the Ocalan Faction.

"Like I said, not gonna live forever but I still ain't dead! Close your mouth before you catch a fly and get closer so I can get a look at you," Sharon grumbled, the bandage around her lips unable to contain the sass the southern woman had to dish out.

There was so much command in her voice that I found myself standing within arms reach before I knew it. Her hand snapped out like a viper, wrapping around the woven bracelet on my left arm. I froze, letting her easily remove the Shard. Surprisingly enough, I felt a tenuous connection between me and the Item snap the moment we were no longer touching. Sharon held the bracelet in her hand, turning it over gently while humming.

A gentle scrape reached my senses and I watched as her Staff levitated from where it had been resting on the ground until it seemed to hover over the bracelet. The Hawk manifested only a head, its beak parted and moving as if it were talking with no sound. It shook its head, sinking back into the staff. For a few seconds, the silver grey light and the blue pulsed while Sharon stared at it, entranced.

"Uh, Sharon?"

"Yes, yes, you want to see your friends," the woman said, slumping back. She shot the staff one last look, seemingly silencing the Totems by the lack of moving lights, before turning to me. "She wants to go with you."

"Pardon?"

"Hawk's daughter," Sharon said, tapping the bracelet gently. "She said you are fun. He wasn't happy, but then again he can't control her. I could already tell, since she's never actually manifested but she chose to do so for you and your mole. Foregone conclusion, but I wanted to give Hawk the chance to hear her side."

"Oh, uh... Thanks? She was very helpful. Don't think we would have made it through the end of the fight whole without her."

"And don't you forget it!" Sharon passed the bracelet back and the moment the Item made contact with my hands electricity zapped between us. Then, the avian Totem was vividly present in the back of my mind, snuggled up against the larger, deeper presence of Fievil. The mole grumbled as the indistinct bird Totem landed on his head but didn't make any moves to shake her off.

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I blinked, bringing myself back to the present. Sharon had her toothy grin on her face.

"I guess I should be thankful for the confirmation that what you did is possible."

"Come again?" I asked, silently slipping the bracelet on.

"Bonding with a Totem diametrically opposed to your element," Sharon said, sighing and laying back in her bed. "It means the Staff has a chance of getting passed forward in my family. As far as I know none of them have the... for lack of a better word 'gift' that you and I have for connecting with the world. However, improbable isn't impossible. Look at the ass whoopin' we gave Eurus and you'll have your proof."

"I'm assuming that's not usually how their visits go? I did manage to get a few... words? Feelings? From them. Not sure."

"Ah yeah. They speak through the fibers of nature. Or something like it, anyway. They don't necessarily stick around for me to question them too much after they make their desires known." The woman waved her hand dismissively. "I've never heard Eurus say anything other than 'frustration' or 'inferior'. My other fights with them had been attrition, burning up the energy of their storm enough that the other Factions and their passive defenses forced him to seek prey elsewhere."

The Shaman's tone lowered. "There's always too heavy a price there."

"The defenders on the weather tower--"

"They will make it. Some of them... not whole, but that is better than not here at all. No one blames you, by the way. They all know they would have lost much more if Eurus' tagalongs had been successful in their attack. Those elementals weren't always that clever so something must have changed."

I contemplated how much I wanted to tell her. If the conference did go forward now that the hurricane was no longer in the way, she would be getting the full story anyway. However, in bed while we were both recovering was not the time to add more to her plate. So, I opted for the cop-out answer. "I know they have. My being here is part of that change."

"Yes, yes. You are this big shot with the biggest stones east of the Gulf," Sharon huffed.

A cough racked her body for a few moments, and I reached my hand towards her but there wasn't much I could do. Eventually she drew a wheezy breath, smacking my offered hand out of the way. She didn't say anything, but I could feel her body tense with the intent. I'd seen something similar during fights thanks to vibrosense, but that was large motions and broad strokes for incoming attacks. The scope that Diffracting Tissue was letting me perceive was a little intimidating, even muted as I was keeping it in order to lean on my eyes.

"We are thankful for your being here, Ronan," Sharon started. "I want you to know that the Nash support your efforts. That old wrinkly bag of bones Radolfo told me you can talk to the big rocks, that they are alive. He suggested I get your Partial buddy to pay our Wards a visit. Consider it done. My son knows to assign him a Circle to escort him if he shows up. Him and your lady friend were asking questions about some of our records, but unfortunately we don't keep a lot of those on hand."

Lady friend? Definitely not Danny, she's been helping at the Taste of Old. Why were Billy and Jolene asking for the Nash's records? I shook my head, dismissing the question. It wouldn't be long before I could ask them myself.

"Thank you, Sharon. I appreciate it, and I am sure Hec will too. That's the name of the Metier Crystal Entity that calls Ocala home," I said, adding the explanation when I saw the confusion in her eyes. "It is still putting itself together, but I think the future will be paved through communication."

Sharon huffed, grimacing as she shifted in the bed. I sighed, trying to think of what else to say but I opted to excuse myself. While she didn't look to be in the best shape, I didn't feel like she was going to croak. There was fight in her eyes, especially when she spoke about someone in her family inheriting her Staff of Storm Ruling. As I moved to step out of the room, finding Ezrah right there waiting, Sharon called out.

"You've got heart, brat; it's tattooed on your sleeve. Don't change that."

"No plans to be any other way than I am," I said lamely. Sharon cackled, and I saw her hold her pain in for the display as I let the door shut quietly. The moment it was shut, I felt her cough shake her body even as mana rushed to coat the walls. My ears didn't pick up a wisp of sound.

"I'm glad she seems to be doing better," Ezrah confided. "I was worried there for a while."

I glanced back at the unassuming door in an unassuming corridor of a pre-Fall building. Within beat the heart of an entire family, an arm and leg to the whole city of Ocala and an unbeknownst shield to whatever smaller communities in Florida were too weak to stand up against the hurricanes that ravaged its coasts before and after the Fall. In every sense of the word, Sharon Nash was a vanguard of the highest order.

My knuckles popped as I clenched my fist. Blobby squeezed my side gently, lifting me a little higher with each step until I stood to most of my normal height. Fievil hissed in my mind, his claws digging deep furrows in the earth he manifested within our shared mindspace. Even the avian Totem seemed to grow larger and more defined as my thoughts reached the ephemeral creature. Her parent was intricately connected to Sharon and, even if she wasn't as in tune with my own desires and goals, the ultimate mission of protecting those we loved resonated deeply with her.

When we stepped out of the Nash hospital, I was using a combination of Slurry Ichor, Blobby, and a Fievil cane to walk steadily. Blobby deposited me beside one of the outer columns before zipping inside for a moment. I knew what the slime was fetching, and I couldn't be more glad to know I wasn't going to have to walk back to the Embassy. Ezrah continued to pepper me with questions which I did my best to answer. A few of the Nash seemed to want to approach with similar desires --which I knew because they were practically radiating from them in a perfectly mirrored intent to my young satyr escort-- but none took that final step.

"If there's anything I can do, please let me know, sir." Ezrah bowed low.

Sighing, I started the process of slipping my injured leg over the slime saddle when Blobby returned already in its transport shape. "Just look out for your people, Ezrah. All we can do is what is within our grasp. It's not perfect, and it's obviously going to be ugly sometimes, but it's the best we can do."

The satyr stomped his hoof, head still bowed. Like a starting gun going off, feet and hooves beat on the earth in perfect sync a moment afterwards. Those who'd been in the hospital lobby were staring directly at me, even the few injured who struggled to stand had struck the wall or their knees to join in the sound. Unsure of what to do with the gesture, I returned a nod and poked Blobby to head forward.

As the side of the hospital came into view, I spotted dozens of people taking up all the windows in my direction. Families of all compositions and Attunements gathered to watch me depart. While I couldn't see most of them, the single clear note that came from my senses told me that they'd stomped again. And again. And again.

The stomps continued until I was out of sight and even then the ripples of the show of solidarity still sent quakes through my heart.