With full stomachs, the survivors settled in for a the first truly restful night since the beginning of their ordeal. All except Valentiana, that is, who guards the camp vigilantly, all the while regretting her third helping of Ammit. Hours pass, and Valentiana watches the fire crackle and die, smoke rising towards a sky of brightening stars. Not forgetting her responsibility, she fights the urge to sleep brought on by the relaxing atmosphere. As she leans against a tree, her breathing slows and her eyelids become heavy.

Though she allows repose to claim her for only a moment, it is enough. When she opens her eyes, she is greeted by a man pacing back and forth as though he were preparing to give a speech. This did not command her attention, however, as she was preoccupied with the ropes now binding her hands to the tree. Noticing his hostage is awake, the man begins the oration he had been rehearsing in his head.

"You're lucky, you know. Anyone could've come by while you were having your little kip."

The sleep vanishes from Valentiana's eyes as a look of recognition washes over her face, causing her lips to curl into an indignant grin. She responds to her captor in a voice dripping with suppressed rage.

"Are you that desperate for me to make good on my promise to kill you?"

"Now, that's no way to talk to someone. Especially when you came all this way just to ask for my help."

"Alright. You've made your point. Now can you untie me?"

"Lower your voice, or you'll wake up the whole bloody camp."

The man removes Valentiana's restraints, prompting a swift jab in the stomach.

"I can't say I've missed this, Natans."

"How's Cap?"

"I'm quite well, thank you. Though I could do with a few more hours of rest."

Both Valentiana and Natans jump at hearing Fraxinus's voice.

"You're losing your touch, Natans," Valentiana remarks.

"Mr. Ludwigia, while I realize your designs are usually beyond me, was there a particular reason that this reunion could not wait until morning, beyond tormenting Ms. Thunbergia?"

"I'm afraid so, Cap. At this moment there is a situation of some magnitude occurring in Gabria. I figured since you were coming to ask a favor, I'd meet you with my own. I have found myself in need of the services of the Q-"

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Aren't you supposed to know everything? She's dead!" Valentiana interjects, her face now flustered.

"All right now. How about this: Ms. Thunbergia, would you please take Mr. Fragaria, go on ahead, and see if you two can't help. I will keep watch over the camp and join you in the morning."

"*sigh* If I have to."

Valentiana gives Natans one more vicious look before leaving to wake Vesca.

"You know, I really wish you would stop tormenting her."

"In my defense, Cap, she was the one who fell asleep."

Fraxinus's tone becomes more stern.

"You know that's not what I meant. Ms. Thunbergia has tried very hard to forget about *ahem* 'her'."

"But do you honestly believe she's gone?"

"I believe it's neither of our places to say."

The cool winds do little to rouse the sensibilities of Vesca Fragaria, who manages to walk several miles, while not doing so much as opening his eyes.

"Are we in Gabria yet?" Vesca asks lazily as he rubs sleep from his eyes.

"Vesca, you ask me that every 5 minutes, and for the last 20 minutes, the answer's been yes!"

"Hm? Oh."

Vesca's glazed eyes do not betray even a hint of having understood Valentiana's words. Natans waves a hand in front of the boy's face, hoping to elicit some sort of response.

"Bit of an odd chap, eh?"

"He had a rough day, yesterday, he just needs rest. Besides, from what you tell me, I think I can handle this alone."

"Are you sure? These are seriously sick men. That nasty curse runs deep."

"You said that before they collapsed, their patrol unit was caught in an explosion, right?"

"Yeah, but their injuries were minor. It's not what I'm worried about."

"How far to the hospital?"

"It's that squat building, over on the corner."

Valentiana quickens her pace and Natans follows suit, dragging Vesca along behind him. When they arrive, Valentiana wastes no time examining patients, as Natans looks for an open bed in which to deposit his charge. The smell within the building has gotten considerably worse since Natans left for aid. Mingling with the ever-present scent of iron, courtesy of dried bloodstains which can never be removed from the yellowing tile floors, is the odor of decay. This is the odor of something that was once alive, but is now dying, piece-by-piece.

"Alright now, lad, off to Bedfordshire with you."

He leaves the delirious Vesca on the cot and returns to Valentiana.

"How are they?"

"In pain."

"Can you help them?"

"Easily."

Valentiana raises her arms and begins focusing her mind.

[Focus Chant: Necromancy]

image [https://img.wattpad.com/66128d33b5da687cb7ab894dad16a2b9cead89cb/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f39695978454648414a4f654c66413d3d2d313434383737313131312e313764353139366233643564366431393132323333353137383136302e706e67]

She closes her eyes and begins to concentrate causing a warm green light to enveloping her. A bead of sweat rolls down her forehead as the light expands to fill the entire room.

[Expanded Necromancy: Vital Emanation + Cure]

image [https://img.wattpad.com/1cd75c336df4497e138d1915c36f46a3237c4af7/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f547956743946697655454c4e5a513d3d2d313434383737313131312e313764353139366364366635346163663536313237313731333737302e706e67]

One by one, the infirmed cease their groaning and begin to sit up, their pained expressions replaced by ones of relief. As the last of the patients stands up, Valentiana releases her spell, letting out a soft whistle and bracing herself against her knees.

"How did you do it so quickly. Our healers have been trying for days woth no progress."

"You mentioned before that they were being treated for shrapnel wounds when they started showing symptoms. The pattern reminded me of an old technique which involves imbuing curses into weapons made of glass. When the weapon shattered, the fragments would get stuck in the target and spread the curse. Since dispelling a curse requires locating its source, you need to make sure you cleanse every cut made by the shards. Obviously, this means even a simple curse can be tricky to remove, entirely."

"I believe I'm starting to understand. So instead of trying to treat the patients individually..."

"I used a spell meant to purifiy an area."

"... dispelling all the shards at once! Brilliant as always, Valentiana!"

"Though one thing does concern me, still. This technique is not only ancient, it's forbidden. Whoever is behind this has the potential to do serious harm. This isn't something we can leave alone."

"What do you suggest?"

"When our 'escort' wakes up, it would be a good idea for the three of us to check out the site here the blast took place."

"Quite good."