MARIA

"Gustul, you need to go out and calm the populace," Bryn instructed Reyn's joyloving brother while the king in question laid on his side on one of the slabs, with Fenrer on another one, ashen by the second. Maria headed to his side, unlatching his armor to get to the wound, digging a dagger deep to cut away unsalvageable fabric. "If it spreads, Derelicts will be at our walls in the morn and people will die." They smacked Gustul's shoulder when he hovered over Reyn. "We'll take care of him." It took no time at all for Gustul to retreat, closing the door behind him. Maria dragged a floating table closer to her to get runic tools.

Embers of collected twine rose from her palm when she pressed it into his wound, as deep as it could go to strike the extent of the piercing cut. As she pulled her hand away, the fiery tendrils snipped off her fingers. Stitching needle in hand, she weaved the tendrils through the small opening. One twist, it solidified, a connection into the wound, to burn all infectious material away. "I'm going to need essence for his blood loss," she told Bryn as he snapped both arrows, but it took two pairs of hands to remove. Her woven stitch continued to ripple, dragging itself up to pull the wound together. Phial thrown to her, she caught it with ease, putting it near Fenrer's head. Once the end of the weave was in sight, crimson-matted, she turned it over as the fires burned. It slid through tiny glyphs, mixed with greens and amber to bring his skin to a close. Sutures in hand, she followed the path of her magick to keep it closed. She pressed the first layer of bandages over the wound, where the magick glued it in place before she shifted him to wrap the last, protective layer of bandages. Work done, she rushed over to the fountain to wash deep underneath her fingernails.

"None of the arrows hit important organs," Bryn observed.

"Good, we can remove them once I've got Fenrer comfortable. She swiped a magmatic stone, placing it against his temple. It burned at her palm, and she put it in one of the slab's divots for later use. Come on, Fen. Maria lifted the phial of essence over his lips, letting the precious droplets slip past his paling lips as he slowly breathed. Phial drained, she put it aside to throw a rough blanket over him and hoped for the best and the giant's blood to flush out any built up toxin. "Now for His Grace." Her own clippers in hand, she snapped off the barbed arrows. Through the break, she sent her glyph through it and to the other side to meet Bryn's. "On three?" she questioned as she pressed into it with a cloth.

"One."

"Two," she counted down.

"Three."

She put pressure on her hand while Bryn pulled his. Blood slipped out of the new opening, and she pressed her cloth over it to stop the bleeding. As they waited, she looked over at Fenrer again, who gave the slightest shift — a good, hopeful sign before she pried her cloth back. Crimson matted the fabric, and she worked on her end in time with Bryn before repeating the process with the other arrow. Each opening blocked from outside toxins, she let Bryn pull him onto his back. "Thank you for your assistance," they said, heading over to the fountain to wash their hands in turn.

I'd like to know what in the infernal hells happened, but I suppose I have to wait for that. Maria wiped off her hands and arms, washing them as well while Bryn gave Reyn essence. "Make sure a housecarl stands outside this door and lets no one in unless it's one of us or has our okay," she told the older chirurgeon, then went to the worried observers outside. Yuven and Adara slumped against the wall when she opened the door, barely lifting their heads to register her approach. "We're going to have a long talk. I think it best that His Grace is moved to Euros until further notice. I'll send a message to Warden-Commander Faehariel, but I'd like enough information to put in the report."

"How is he?" Yuven asked, with Adara's breathing being taken in tight, but even bursts.

"We'll see on the morning how he is, but for now he's stable." Maria stood between them. "You can both see him — one at a time, though."

Adara's brown gaze lowered, but it snapped back up when Yuven mumbled, "Go."

"What?" she asked through a startled rasp.

"Go. To. Him," Yuven enunciated and thickened the Irimountian accent in his voice.

Yuv... Maria pulled Adara up to her feet and guided her into the sick ward, with Bryn in their desk, writing quickly onto a parchment. She grabbed a chair when she passed one, letting Adara use her as added support as she placed the chair beside Fenrer, setting the shaken woman in it. "Do you need anything?" she asked her. Adara shook her head in one numb movement, so she left her to her couple minutes of silence to return outside, standing in front of Yuven again. "Yuven."

His feathers drooped.

Come on, Ice Knight. Maria knelt in front of him. "Are you able to tell me what is going on? Do you know what happened?"

"I was foolish." He kept his head lowered. Utter defeat in a man who accepted nothing less than victory. Any victory. "It was the cultist's, they got their blood. We can only hope whatever happened over there cut off the flow of magick in the point of power they've created and make whatever plan they've hatched far more difficult for us to work with. I don't know why I didn't put it together sooner. Fenrer's magick is special to him. Able to intake and redirect any magick thrown at him, like a lightning rod. His family — the definition of bloodline magick — king's blood. Are there not two statues who stand at the gulf? The answer was right in front of me." He overturned his hand, crusted with dried blood. "Not only that, I found out Reyn Kolis isn't the son of his predecessor... but his predecessor's brother, who died in a Derelict attack, but someone tried to have him erased from the annals." He clenched his fists with a rattle from his throat and a shiver of his feathers. "I put so much pressure on Fenrer, to not let his emotions dictate him, to not make choices while in those throes, but he was right. I'm not any better." He took in a breath and raised his slitted pupils to her. Violets dulled in loss.

"Maybe," she acknowledged. "But that doesn't mean you can't take steps to correct it." Her hand wrapped around his, and she dragged him up to his feet, to not let him sink into the abyssal muck — a Storm Warden's duty to the last. "Your turn, let me go get Adara, and then I want you both to get some rest." She went to pull herself away, but Yuven kept a tight grip on her fingers. "You'll find a way, Yuven," Maria said, returning to him to touch his face, to bring him back to reality, to her. "You always do — and Fenrer's your Oathbound. If you think this will kill him that easily, you've got to realise that it won't. Hold onto that connection, it is beyond comprehension. Remember what Neven tried to teach you, and we'll figure out how to stop these cultists from hurting anyone else." Released from his grip, she entered the sick ward, where Adara leaned over Fenrer, wiping at her eyes.

"You need sleep," Maria said and cupped Adara's elbow in her hand to lift her out of the chair. "If anything changes, you'll be one of the first I tell." Out of the sick ward, with Adara swaying on her feet, she waved over a housecarl. "Can you take her back to the lodge?"

Yuven considered Adara for a long time, but the housecarl nodded with a bow to her, and Maria let her go to turn to Yuven. "Come." Her hand in his again, she pulled him inside, to make him face the truth. He needed no help in reaching the chair, but she changed their route to the fountain to get Yuven to wash the blood off his hands.

With no one left who needed her, she took an extra seat for her own rest, observing Yuven's body language. He reached a hand out to Fenrer's brow, lowering himself closer to bump his forehead against his Oathbound's. "I'm so sorry, Molvisaliz," his Navei came out heartbroken and wavered. "But you will be okay, and I will not repeat this mistake of mine." A chirp left his nose when he sighed, and he sat down in the chair with his head in his arms. Maria forced herself to relax, but lifted her head at a pained groan sounding from the other occupied slab.

"Your Grace!" Bryn hissed and swept out of the chair, and Maria followed suit.

Sweat stuck Reyn's black hair to his brow as he pried open his eyes with a wince. "Where am I?" he questioned, his coastal dialect of Hanekan thick.

"Back at the castle, Your Grace," Bryn replied with a subtle nod at her. "How do you feel?"

"Alive." Reyn swept his gaze over them, before widening them. "Wait. Where is Pyren?"

Maria put one hand on his shoulder and Bryn followed suit when the warrior king tucked his knees in and made a motion to get up. "Alive," she repeated his own words at him. "You both need rest, and when you're somewhat recovered, you're going to come with the Storm Wardens to Euros. No arguments. I will pull the pact to get you to comply — for I don't bow to any king." Maria let him go the moment the tension eased in his shoulders. A shiver crawled up her spine, a burst of warmth against her neck. Someone's breath against her lips when Yuven slid past her. Reyn sank into his shoulders.

"I am sorry, Warden Traye," he whispered.

Yuven's lips parted, and his feathers pressed tight against his ears. One breath, he said, "Don't. I don't need, or even want apologies from you." He bared his fangs, but let them slip behind his lips once more to study the king in his shadow. "You saved my Oathbound's life at risk of losing your own. For that, I will thank you one last time — and pray that I never have to thank you again." Fists clenched, the feathers rattled when he approached Reyn. "But, I want you to tell me something. What happened to your hunting party? How did they get the jump on you, on Fenrer? Was it anything like Azahama? I need to know what to expect, how they operate, how they're slipping through the cracks."

"Yuv." Maria placed a hand over his heart to quell his wave of fury. "We'll get to the bottom of this once they're recovered. They won't be able to answer questions clearly in their condition."

Reyn closed his eyes again with a soft groan. "I... I don't know. It's blurry," he confirmed her words. "I just... I remember unending, painful heat and then nothing at all."

Maria nudged Yuven away from the sickbed of the king to let Bryn handle him. "I know you want the answers," she said under her breath when Yuven scowled at the floor. "We're going to get those answers... from Neven."

"What?" Yuven's scowl died into confusion.

"Not here." Maria straightened herself out, turning to Bryn. "If you require anything else, I will be in the guest hall."

"I'll send word if anything changes, Warden Ollain."

Maria nodded, but let Yuven return to Fenrer's side for a long moment, who showed no signs of stirring, but no indications of death. Each hand pressed against Fenrer's cheek, he let out another weak chirp and trembled, fighting to school his expression as tears slid down his face. Her hand touched his back, sending her warmth back to him, for the nights and days he gave her his. "He'll live," she told him. "And he'll welcome you with an open hand, as he always has."

"I will settle for his survival," Yuven hissed through tears.

"Yuven Traye, settling for less?"

Maria jerked at the weak voice with Yuven.

Fenrer Pyren opened his green eyes of mythical crystal. His lips parted, but he flinched when Yuven gripped onto his face harder with a startled chirp, his pupils thinning into the frozen violets. "I am sorry," Yuven bleated through a rattled hiss. "You deserved so much more than—"

Fenrer squeezed the collar of his armor. "Yuven... you're hard to ignore. Impossible, even."

Yuven fell silent.

"You should still be sleeping," Maria scolded.

Fenrer slipped his weak gaze between them. "I feel numb."

"Don't die," Yuven said, hollow.

Maria gave Yuven a quick smack on the back. "You will for a bit," Maria explained. "Go back to sleep."

His breath left his lips weak, but nonetheless alive. His gaze returned to Yuven when he whimpered and drew himself closer. "I am so sorry for how I've treated you for so long," he said, voice clear once more. "I do not hate you, Fenrer Pyren. I am incapable. I cannot." Yuven smacked his own chest. "Never once have I regret forging the connection between our magick and souls. I am a twisted, spiteful Avaerilian, but you are my family." Yuven slid his fangs over his lips again. "And a part of me would die if you did."

Maria smiled at Yuven's open heart. Someone so capable of love, hidden from the world who hurt him the most. "Yuven, I..." Fenrer sucked in his lips. "I'm glad you came for me," his voice wobbled.

"I always will, no matter how much we fight, bash heads over our differing worldviews." Yuven slid his fangs back into his mouth. "You don't need to ask for me to come, Molvisaliz. I may not be a shield as you are, but I am a blade, sharpened, forged and tempered. If anything strikes at you, I will strike back, tenfold. I will protect you in the way I know how to."

Fenrer rubbed his own brow with a soft whimper, and Yuven hugged him. "It will be well, Molvi. We will go home and you will rest, and we'll talk."

It breathed newfound hope when Yuven let go of Fenrer. "Thank you," he said. "You saved my life, over and over again. You dragged me through the muck of my sickness and corruption. Let me do the same." Yuven bit down on his lower lip. "Have faith in me?"

Fenrer continued to squeeze his forearm. "You don't have to ask."

"Then I think it's about time everyone gets some sleep," Maria said, causing Yuven to let go of Fenrer. "Fenrer, let Bryn know if you need anything. Get some more sleep. If there's any potential poison and toxin left in your body, let it flush out." Maria helped Yuven stand up. Fenrer gave them a weak, tired wave as they left the room. "I told you. You're Oathbound, did you expect anything less from him?"

Yuven wiped at his face. "I guess I should've known."

"Then let's go get some sleep, and I'll explain a couple things."

Arm in arm, Maria guided him through the darkness in shared light.