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96 – An Injured Nonpareil

Rheba’s eyes opened suddenly. She was lying on a bed that was long enough to keep her feet from dangling off the end. The giantess warrior began to think back to the events that got her in that spot. She had been in battle with the yellow-haired opponent.

With a sudden jerk, Rheba shot up. Wires hooked between her were jerked, and equipment was suddenly pulled off their resting places as she tried to get up.

“Rheba!” a shout from the Bentulousian warrior's side caught her attention. She turned to see a familiar blue face.

“Fiona?” Rheba replied though she made no efforts to hide her confusion at seeing the Aqueenian princess in the same room. Nevertheless, Fiona leaped up and wrapped her arms around Rheba. The dress she had worn for battle rustled as she moved.

“It’s been such a bad day!” she complained to her teammate. The blue princess continued to carry on about her match with Dia and the attack that had come from a long-range, but her words were too incoherent for Rheba to make out.

“Calm down,” Rheba finally said in a firm tone with as much gentleness as she could. Fiona was shocked by the sudden tone and moved back to a chair where she had anxiously sat prior. “Where is Gwyn?” Rheba asked. Fiona shook her head. She moved her mouth, but it took several moments for her to produce words.

“…he’s… he’s been unconscious since being dropped off here. Multiple bones are broken, and he’s on several machines. They say there should be a Kishop Needaimus specializing in his injuries somewhere in Nun, but the user is currently unreachable.”

Rheba’s ear twitched, but she otherwise kept a stoic expression as she moved onto the next question.

“What about Harlan?”

“She’s been injured in her leg. They have her patched up and have her rest.”

“And Hal and Odell?”

“I don’t know. They are still in Nunvo as far as I can tell, but I can’t get either to answer a call.”

Rheba shook her head and moved her legs to the edge of the bed. As she moved, she pulled off the wires for the equipment that monitored her.

“Let’s go to Harlan,” she said as she began to stand up.

“Wait, you’re injured!” Fiona protested.

“My injuries are minor compared to the amount of discussion we need to have.”

Rheba felt pain as she walked but didn’t let it show to the blue princess. Fiona chased after as the Bentulousian warrior entered the hallway.

Some doctors and nurses jumped as the injured patient strolled through the hospital wing without a care, but the stern face Rheba wore deterred them from saying anything in response. The Aqueenian princess kept her head down.

Fiona gave in and began to lead the way to where Harlan was waiting. They exchanged no words until Rheba burst through the hospital room door. The Zenotote scientist almost leaped out of her bed as the giant warrior burst through. Her leg was bandaged, and the doctors had instructed that she not move around too much on it, but otherwise, she was okay.

“You’re up?” Harlan asked in shock as Rheba seemed to have shaken off any battle damage like it was nothing.

“Warriors are trained to be tough,” Rheba said. Harlan said nothing and simply shook her head in response. “Where is Gwyn?” the brown-furred Bentulousian added. She had thought they would be in the same room.

“In another ward….” Fiona said with a somber quiver in her voice. She had been the only one to visit him since they arrived with Dia in tow.

“I haven’t had a chance to see him either,” Harlan added with a shake of her head.

“Then we should go to him next!”

“I’m not supposed to be walking,” Harlan explained. Rheba strode across the room at her words and lifted the much smaller Zenotote over her shoulder. Harlan attempted to protest, but the trio was soon walking through the hospital again and receiving even more strange looks from the staff.

“I don’t enjoy this….” Harlan finally said with a sigh, realizing she didn’t have any way to escape. The Zenotote’s orange Needaimus rode on Rheba’s other shoulder next to the Bentulousian's purple one.

Fiona kept her head down. She didn’t like the eyes staring at her, especially from behind. The beauideal dress she had not had an opportunity to change out of drew even more unwanted attention. Ever since Dia and Harlan saw her scar, the blue princess had been more squeamish about having eyes on her. She had almost collapsed after the beauideal fight from shear exhaustion brought on by nerves.

Still, she did her best to hide her worries from the other two.

The hospital, known as Nun Grand Hospital, was laid out over a vast space formed into a large circle. The building would have appeared like an unfinished column for a giant’s palace from the outside. It housed more floors and rooms than even the Aqueenian castle in Quenth.

The large and diverse population variance of Nun had led to more and more specialization needed for each of the departments. After years of troubling medical history, the last mayor commissioned a grand hospice for all citizens to get any required care.

For the trio, the giant building acted as a large maze. Though it was not laid out to be confusing, the scale and unfamiliarity with it made them take several wrong turns.

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“Can… can I help you?” a shy doctor finally asked. He was a short Aqueenian man made all the more shorter as he hunched his back. A smooth, jade, baby face showed that he must have been fresh out of medical school.

“We are trying to find our friend,” Rheba said.

“He’s in the critical ward….” Fiona added.

The young doctor nodded and gestured.

“Right this way.”

The group found themselves in front of Gwyn’s door in no time. They all braced for the sight to come as Rheba opened the door.

The sight of Gwyn wasn’t pretty. The Nonpareil was unconscious on a hospital bed. About every part of him had been wrapped in gauze, and several tubes from machines were connected to his skin underneath the wrapping. His mouth was covered by a machine that kept his breath steady.

The doctors had tried their best when they found him. Gwyn’s ribs had broken and punctured a series of organs and blood vessels within his body. His limbs were shattered, and his skin was mangled. They considered him lucky to be alive, not knowing Kako had used some magic to patch him up.

Off to the side of Gwyn sat the draconic looking Needaimus; Mem, its blue head, turned to look at the trio. Had the Nonpareil not been so injured, Mem would have made a snarky comment about Rheba carrying Harlan as she was, but no sounds came from the blue creature.

Harlan was set down in a chair, and Rheba pounded a fist on the wall.

“I shouldn’t have split up from him,” she grumbled quietly.

Fiona silently sat down in a second chair next to Harlan’s. Her blue head and shoulders drooped.

The young doctor who escorted the three looked at each of them with a sad expression.

“Um,” he said to grab the attention of the others. When they turned his way, the doctor continued, “he is stable by the looks of it, so all they have to do is get the medical Needaimus here. It is just taking a little longer than normal….” The doctor could tell his words didn’t reassure the trio. Defeated, he retreated from the room.

“We need to contact Quenth and report,” Rheba said after a long moment of silence. The others nodded.

“But how?” Fiona asked.

“The tablet I was given should have information, but it was left at the hotel.” Rheba leaned against the wall. The pain from her own injuries was starting to catch up with her, but she felt it best not to show it.

Before they could say anything more, a knock echoed from the door.

A middle-aged Netzian man stood in the doorway. He had a large, metal square box held with a single handle in one hand. Behind the man stood a blue and white Zenotote carefully eyeing the trio.

“Greetings,” the man said to them. His voice was level, but he refrained from joining in with the somber mood of the room.

“Who are you?” Rheba said as she stood straight. Her Needaimus was bonded to her arm in a flash.

“Take it easy,” the stranger held his free hand up defensively, but he showed no concern in his voice that indicated he was afraid in any way. “I suppose introductions are in order. I am Abelard, the mayor of this fine city.”

The trio’s mouths held open in unison.

“Sir, you shouldn’t go telling these people that so casually!” The Zenotote warned from behind.

“Not to worry, Rom,” the Mayor said while looking back to his assistant before he readdressed the trio. “Please excuse her; she is understandably nervous, seeing as your little group is technically invaders to our fair town.” Abelard casually strode into the room while paying no mind to Rheba raising her fists and Fiona bonding with her own Needaimus. The mayor placed the box at the end of Gwyn’s bed, next to the Nonpareils wrapped up legs, and turned back to the others so he could speak.

“We have been aware of you since you entered—it really wasn’t hard considering you fought a monster right outside—and we have been keeping some tabs on your little group. It seems there is some trouble brewing in my town that is outside my knowledge.”

“Are you claiming you had nothing to do with the death of King Whitlock?” Rheba asked.

Abelard sighed.

“I had nothing to do with his assassination. That was just as surprising for me as it was for you.”

“Sir,” Rom interrupted, “I’ve gotten a report from Liv and Felix that the hospital is clear. They will be regrouping shortly and heading this way.

“Glad to hear it. Has Amber found anything in the records yet?”

“Nothing reported yet.”

Rheba and Harlan had squinted eyes as the mayor, and his assistant went back and forth. Fiona looked back and forth while trying to hide her confusion as best she could.

“Anyway, I suppose it might have been better to contact you sooner, but you understand I had to be careful.”

“So, what changed?” Rheba asked in a stern voice.

“Well, Dia getting attacked.” The mayor did not attempt to hide anything and looked directly at Rheba as he replied. “We visited her, but she’s in no better shape than your Nonpareil friend here.”

“What is your connection to Dia?” Rheba added. The mayor chuckled.

“I guess you could say she’s kind of like a daughter to me; I always told her not to run with bad crowds….” Abelard’s voice trailed off at the end of his sentence as he began to stare off into space.

One of Rheba’s ears flicked as she took a deep breath, but she didn’t press the issue any further.

“What is your reason for coming here?” Harlan finally spoke up. Her green eyes were fixed on the case that the mayor had set next to Gwyn.

“I heard your Nonpareil was here,” the mayor said as he turned to Gwyn, “he doesn’t look like much.”

Fiona moved closer to the mayor as her hands balled into fists. Rheba had to step across the room to catch her shoulder before the blue princess got closer to the mayor. It was unnecessary as Rom quickly had crossed the room and placed herself between the trio and the mayor.

“Sir, please don’t provoke them without explaining yourself better,” the assistant said to Abelard.

“You’re reprimanding me?” Abelard asked in shock.

“You had it coming,” his assistant replied.

“Touché.” The mayor pulled a latch on the metal box and took a step away. It fell open, and a golden form lay in a curled-up position. The room's light seemed to bounce off the polished gold so intensely that it was difficult to look at it directly. Mem and the other Needaimus seemed to shake at the sight of the golden one.

Fiona took a step back. She almost tripped, but Rheba managed to catch her.

“I thought that was in Quenth!” the blue princess shouted.

“You do indeed have a piece the first Nonpareil used. However, we have the original Jaap used,” the mayor explained with a smile. “If he is truly a Nonpareil, then our golden Needaimus should be willing and able to patch his wounds.”

“And if he’s not?” Harlan asked.

“Then… it wouldn’t be pretty. No matter, we won’t ask the Needaimus to do anything rash!” Mayor Abelard turned to the golden creature. “If you would like to, could you?” he asked.

The golden form pushed itself up on four legs and walked over to Gwyn. Everyone watched for a long moment as it moved its golden head up and down to examine the Nonpareil.

After what seemed like an eternity for the trio, the golden Needaimus seemed to turn liquid-esk and slid under the bandages around Gwyn’s right arm. The gauze that covered his arm was shattered, and a golden arm was left in place. He began to squirm and writhe.

“Gwyn!” Fiona shouted and stood next to him in a flash of light. Before she could do anything more, Gwyn stopped squirming, and his vitals stabilized. His breathing was calm, and though no one could confirm, his bones had been bonded back together.

The gold broke off his arm and formed back into a creature while it made its way back to the case. Abelard carefully closed the box, ensuring not to touch the golden metal in the process. He paused a moment to look at Gwyn before nodding to himself. The mayor was surprised to see no one else react, but he decided to leave it unsaid. He turned to the trio and smiled as he spoke:

“I suspect he will need to sleep a little while longer; why don’t we talk some more about the next steps our groups plan to take. I have a feeling we have much to discuss.”