I woke to the smell of alcohol and sweat. Not earth and blood. I wasn't in the forest anymore.
The memories surfaced slowly. Giant lizards. Fisher going down. Reni screaming. Tav running. Kuti disappearing into the darkness.
I turned my head. A wooden bed beneath me—hard but better than forest soil. Several identical beds lined the large tent in neat rows, each occupied. Not sleeping bodies. Recovering ones.
Bandages everywhere. Arms. Legs. Faces. Most soaked through with blood. The tent filled with a chorus of labored breathing.
I tried moving my leg. Sharp pain shot up my shin.
A blood-soaked bandage wrapped the spot where the Flayer had licked me.
Someone had saved me. Someone like—
Veraque Mitis. Kindness.
She sat on a simple wooden chair nearby, her cream-colored gown stained brown with dirt. Eyes closed, head nodding forward. Watching over patients even while dozing.
The bed creaked as I shifted.
Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on me.
"You're awake!" she said too loudly. Other patients stirred irritably. Her cheeks flushed as she lowered her voice. "How do you feel?"
Her gaze traveled across my body, checking for unattended wounds.
Had she treated all these people herself? Were they all Flayer victims?
"I feel okay," I lied.
My leg burned with every movement. But it was nothing compared to the hollow feeling in my chest. I'd frozen. Paralyzed with fear while others fought. Worthless. Not deserving to live. Still, I forced a smile for her.
"That's good, I guess." Her attention drifted to the other patients. Their whimpers and groans filled the space between us. Their injuries clearly worse than mine.
"How about Fisher, Tav, Kuti and Reni?" I asked.
Fisher worried me most. His back flayed open. Reni only had a broken leg. Tav had used his blessing to heal. And Kuti—part of me hoped she hadn't made it.
"Fisher..." Veraque's voice softened. "He was the fisherman with the bushy beard, right? The one in your party."
Her expression told me everything before her words could. I already knew.
"Fisher... he, uh, he passed away. The blood loss was too much, and everything was so infected. Tav did his best, even using his Charity blessing to take away the injuries, but it was already too late."
I sat up and sighed, looking down at the floor. Across from me, a woman with bandaged arms whimpered in her sleep, turning fitfully.
"Kuti, the girl with the box, is probably with the uninjured people in the main camp. Reni is okay, he's in the Intensive Care Unit tent. His leg was ravaged badly, but Tav has been taking care of it."
A bout of coughing erupted from the corner of the tent. A man with his head wrapped in bloody gauze tried to sit up, then fell back with a groan. Two beds down, someone called weakly for water.
Veraque continued, her voice barely audible over the background sounds of suffering. "Tav has been incredible. I saw the flare your party shot, but didn't know exactly where it came from. Tav ran and alerted me, and that's how I was able to stop it."
The tent flap opened, letting in a cold breeze that made the lanterns flicker. A young woman with tired eyes shuffled between the beds, stopping to check bandages and offer sips of water from a wooden cup. The scent of medicinal herbs mingled with the metallic smell of blood.
"He's been the one exerting himself, healing as many people as he can with his medical supplies, and even his blessing. He's doing his best for all of us." She paused, watching as the attendant adjusted a man's splint. The patient hissed in pain. "If only I didn't leave."
Yes. If only. "It's not your fault."
"Yes it is!" We were still talking quietly so the others wouldn't be disturbed, but Veraque's voice carried tension. And anger. Anger I recognized.
At herself.
"I was busy trying to help more people when I hadn't completely helped the people I was supposed to protect!" She whisper-yelled, tears welling up in her eyes.
From the far side of the tent, someone moaned loudly. "Water... please..." The attendant hurried over, murmuring soft reassurances.
"Twenty people are gone. Forty-six are seriously injured. And it's all because of me! If I had stayed here with my Mandate activated, none of this would have happened..."
Tears fell quietly down her face as she sobbed in self-loathing. Behind her, two men were carrying in a new patient, their boots squeaking against the dirt floor. They settled the unconscious figure onto an empty bed while a woman with a blood-stained apron rushed to assist.
I looked at Veraque in silence. I didn't know what to say.
Finally I spoke. "Well, you're here now. And that's what matters."
It felt empty to me. It was. Nothing more than consolatory words. But Veraque took it. She wiped her tears as someone nearby began to snore raggedly.
"Thank you, Bon. I needed that."
I didn't say anything back, but she seemed satisfied enough. The tent buzzed with quiet activity—whispered conversations, pained sighs, the rustle of bandages being changed.
"You know, Bon? I like talking to you."
Talking? I had barely done any talking. But as I looked into her wide, hazel eyes, her golden skin that somehow shimmered in the light from the oil lamps, her smile that spread out like the morning sun, I couldn't help but remember something. Something I said to Veraque, when she found me in the abandoned ruins of Synbard. Waiting.
"Are you that–"
Tav walked in the tent, pushing past two volunteers carrying buckets of water. His green eyes were tired, eyebags of exhaustion encircling them. He was sweating profusely and had blood and other bodily fluids on his hands.
He looked to me and Veraque, stepping around a patient who had fallen into a fitful sleep on the floor. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"
I wanted to speak, but Veraque took the lead. "No, I was just about to leave. A council meeting needs to be held to address-" She gestured to the room, to the moaning patients and harried attendants. "All this."
She put a hand on Tav's shoulder as someone called his name from across the tent. "You've been doing incredibly well, Tav. I seriously appreciate it. A lot more people would have died if not for your skills."
Then she brought her lips closer to his ear and whispered. I couldn't hear exactly what she said, but I could read her lips.
"Don't overexert yourself."
He nodded, and she patted him on the back before leaving.
Tav's face held an expression I couldn't quite place. After a moment, he shook his head and walked over to me.
"How are you feeling, Bon?"
"I'm fine. Thank you, Tav." I meant it. I wiggled my leg to show it was functional, wincing as pain shot through with every movement. His eyes tracked the gesture, professional concern evident.
He turned to check on the other patients, his gaze lingering on a man whose bandages needed changing.
"You did all this?" I asked, gesturing around the room. The scale of his work hit me—forty-six people, each needing care. "That's... impressive."
"It's my job," he said, shoulders slumping slightly with fatigue. "I am a healer, after all." He fiddled with his thumbs. "Had some help too. Couldn't have managed alone."
We sat in silence for about ten minutes. His eyes were distant, troubled.
Then he spoke.
"Kuti's gone."
"Gone?" I frowned. "Didn't she run back to the camp when she..." The memory flashed vividly—Kuti using Col, her own waiting ancestor, as bait. Throwing her away like trash. Abandoning us all to save herself.
My fist clenched involuntarily, knuckles white. The betrayal burned fresh again.
Tav noticed, placing his hand on mine. "That's what I thought too, but no one's seen her since. I've asked around."
"So?" The word came out harsher than I intended. Let her run. Let her face whatever waits in the dark.
He sighed and closed his eyes. "I think she went back to the forest. Maybe for Col. Her stuff is gone from our tent. She might be planning to leave—go back to her domain or somewhere else."
"Well, then." I shrugged, pushing down the conflict rising in my chest. "That's her funeral."
Tav's expression hardened. "We're going back to find her."
I stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "Are you serious? Did you forget what happened a few hours ago? Those things nearly flayed us alive, and you want to go back?"
"Kindness activated her mandate in the domain," he countered, leaning forward. "No violent activity can happen there now, including getting eaten to death."
"Watch."
He threw a punch toward my shoulder. I flinched, waiting for impact, but felt only a soft touch against my skin.
"You sure you didn't just pull that punch?" I asked, eyebrows raised.
"No. You truly can't do anything violent in her domain." His certainty wavered. "Though I'm not completely sure how far it extends. Which is why I'm going to ask Veraque to come with us."
"Veraque?" I scoffed. "She'll be swamped—managing the refugees, running the 'Haven.' She doesn't have time for a rescue mission."
"I'll make her find time," Tav said, jaw set with determination. "Kuti is as much a person here as anyone else. Veraque will step in, even for a single soul."
I didn't say what I was thinking—that maybe Kuti wasn't worth saving after what she'd done. But something in me couldn't fully commit to that thought either.
"Sure, okay." I said, frustration building as I pinched the bridge of my nose. "How are we even going to find her? The woods are huge! The rain has probably washed away all footprints! And look at you—you're exhausted. I can barely walk with this leg. We can't do jack shit! If Kuti is leaving, she's digging her own grave."
Tav's expression darkened. His jaw tightened, a vein pulsing at his temple.
"You do realize this is your fault, right?" he growled, voice low but sharp.
The accusation hit like ice water. "How the hell is this my fault!"
"Can you guys pipe down? Some of us are trying to sleep." Someone yelled from a bunk at the far end of the tent. Others grunted and complained in agreement.
"Sorry everyone," Tav apologized, standing up. His professional mask slipped back on. "People will come later with food and water. Just stay put and don't move, okay?"
They sighed in agreement and thanks as Tav turned back to me, grabbing my shoulder. His fingers dug in harder than necessary.
"Stand up," he commanded, something dangerous flashing in his eyes.
"My leg," I reminded him, pointing to the bandage.
"Grit your teeth through it and stand up." His nails pressed deeper into my shoulder, leaving half-moons in my skin.
Fine. I put pressure on my good leg, pushing myself up. Then I tried my injured one. Pain shot through as I started walking, but I took Tav's advice and gritted my teeth.
Tav walked to the tent flap and lifted it for me to pass through first. Like a true gentleman. But there was nothing gentlemanly about the rigid set of his shoulders or the way his eyes refused to meet mine.
The air outside was cold, the wet breeze brushing my skin, sending shivers through my spine. Tav led us deeper into the trees, to a spot where no one would hear us. Each step he took seemed to wind him tighter, like a spring compressing.
"So as I was saying..." I continued our argument from inside the tent. "This isn't—"
"Bon, please shut up." His voice was too controlled, too quiet.
I should have recognized the warning signs—his clenched fists, the muscle twitching in his jaw, the way he kept himself precisely two feet away from me. But I'd never seen Tav this way before. The healer. The reasonable one.
"You don't get to lecture me about—"
His right hook connected with my face before I could finish, his knuckles cracking against my jaw. The force sent me sprawling to the damp ground, pain exploding across my face.