Damien hurt everywhere. From the tips of his toes to the top of his head he was one giant ache. Even his hair hurt. He and pain were old and bitter acquaintances, but for all the injuries he’d taken at The Citadel he’d never before hurt everywhere all at once. This was a new experience and he didn’t like it at all.

Around him groans of pain filled the air. It sounded like he wasn’t the only one that got hurt, though he was probably the only to sustain self-inflicted injuries. He opened his eyes and a white roof filled his vision.

The healers’ tent, of course. Somehow he always seemed to end up with the healers. He turned his attention inward and found his soul force regenerated, but his shield hadn’t recovered. He drew a little soul force and winced. How long would it hurt to use his power? He supposed it didn’t really matter. He focused through the pain and recreated his shield. When he finished drawing on his power the pain faded a little.

“Damien?”

He turned toward his sister’s voice and found her sitting beside his cot. “Did I get it?”

“You hit the dragon, but I didn’t see what happened to it. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Her eyes were red like she’d been crying. It was a rare thing, seeing his powerful, fierce sister with tears in her eyes. He hoped to never see it again, much less be the cause of it. “Sorry, sis. I couldn’t think what else to do.”

A cough sounded and Damien turned to see General Kord and the pale sorcerer that led the army’s sorcerers standing near the entry of the tent. Damien tried to sit up, but Jen put a hand on his chest, forcing him back into bed. “Sir?”

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The pages entered a moment later carrying a pair of folding camp chairs. They set them up and the general and sorcerer sat beside his bed. “I was on the field when you blasted that dragon,” General Kord said. “You blew a hole big enough to drive a wagon through in its side and somehow our sorcerers say it escaped.”

“I tried to shape the blast so it wouldn’t hit our soldiers. Is everyone okay?”

“You didn’t catch a single one of my men in the blast, but you killed thousands of ogres and trolls. When the dragon fled the monsters lost their enthusiasm for the fight. We swept the field clear and according to my scouts they’re still running. I suspect the war’s over for this year, thanks to you. I dispatched a letter to His Majesty and the king insists on having a feast and award ceremony in your honor. You, Jen, and her squad are to head south as soon as you’re able to travel.” He shot a look at the sorcerer.

Her face twisted in a grimace. “Well done, young man. You blew away over half the dragon’s soul force with your attack. It’ll take centuries for it to recover. The Northlands owe you a great debt. You have my thanks and the thanks of my lord duke.”

Damien smiled. What sort of threats had General Kord made to get her to say that? Whatever he said, Damien appreciated it. “I’m just glad I made a difference.” He brought his fist to his heart. “For the person beside you.”

The general grinned and returned the salute. “For the person beside you. You’re welcome in my army any time, Damien. Your father would be proud.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The general nodded and he and the sorcerer left. When they’d gone Damien turned to his sister. “How long was I out?”

“Most of a day. John said you’d be fine, but I was starting to wonder.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you.” Damien grinned. “Did he ask you out?”

Jen sighed. “Of course. That boy won’t take no for an answer.”

Damien laughed even though it made his whole body hurt. “What do you expect, he’s in love.”