Stephen opened his eyes to the warmth of a bed and the sub-song of birds outside, chirping as they fluttered between branches, gathering leaves for their nests. He definitely felt better than before, though not by much. His arm still throbbed, and so did his chest.
He turned his head slowly, taking in the unfamiliar room around him.
He didn't know this place, it wasn't a room in the apartment and neither was it a prison cell had he been captured by the royal guards.
So where was he?
The door creaked open, and Stephen shot upright, mana flaring around his palm, ready for whoever dared to come through.
"Oh... you're up," said an older woman, her voice gravelly and eyes half shut beneath drooping lids. It was a wonder how she could even see. "You were really hurt back there."
"Where am I?" Stephen asked, not lowering his hand.
"Our barn," she said simply, stepping inside and setting down a tray on a small table before dragging it toward him. "You were so beat up when we found you, I thought you were a goner."
Stephen eyed the tray, on it a plate of white rice and some kind of thick, brownish sauce that smelled surprisingly good. Still, he didn't move to touch it. It could've been poisoned, for all he knew.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not hungry—"
Grrrrrrrrrr.
Stephen sighed. His own stomach had betrayed him.
"Sit down and eat, boy. You're lucky to have survived," she said, folding her arms. "Not many do."
Stephen slowly unclenched his fist and did as he was told. She didn't seem like a bad person. Or at least, she didn't seen like the type to poison him, but that might've just been his stomach talking.
"Thank you," Stephen muttered as he pulled the plate closer and began to eat.
"Good, good." She nodded approvingly. "Young men like you should have a good appetite, so your bones will be strong and your libido stronger!"
Stephen nearly choked, having to slam a fist against his chest until the food went down. Then it hit him.
"Wait... where's Tello?" He asked. "was any man with me?"
"Calm your mind, boy," the woman said, waving him off. Then she pointed toward the hallway. "Your friends are in there. We cleaned and treated their wounds. So they're safe... for now, that is."
Stephen froze. "What do you mean for now?"
"Eat, eat." She nudged the plate toward him. "I didn't make all that food for your appetite to be ruined by bad news."
"My appetite's already ruined," Stephen muttered. "Please, what exactly is wrong?"
She sighed deeply. "Before I say anything, I think it's best we get acquainted. What is your name?"
"Stephen!" he said quickly. In hindsight he should've lied, but he needed answers fast.
"Alright then, Stephen. My name's Olga." She tapped her chest. "I used to be a midwife back in the day, but now I'm a struggling mother taking care of my lazy child."
"I'm not lazy, ma," a tired voice called out.
A man stepped into the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "And we're not struggling... we're just not in the best of times right now."
"We just served our last bits of rice to these guests," Olga gave him a look. "We've nothing for tomorrow, but if that doesn't count as struggling, maybe we're doing just fine."
He rolled his eyes and walked in closer.
"Hi, I'm Gaolei." He scratched the back of his dirty brown hair. "Its a mouthful sometimes so you can call me Gaol, or Gao. Or Go. Some people call me Go."
Stephen looked up at him, at his slender body and sleep ridden eyes that looked like they'd seen better days.
"I'm Stephen." He responded. "And I'd like to know what's happening with Tello please."
Gaolei raised a hand. "Calm down, okay? Tello's a male name, so I'm guessing that's who you're asking about?"
Stephen didn't answer, only waited.
"Fortunately, he was the least hurt." Gaolei said. "He had a few bruises and a minor laceration wound down his neck, but he's up and about now."
Stephen took a breath of relief. "That's good... that's really good."
Gaolei tilted his head. "Not going to ask about the third person we found you with?"
Stephen hesitated. "Oh... Gila. How is she?"
Gaolei turned toward the hall. "Didn't sound too worried there," he muttered, waving them along. "Well, best to show you instead."
Stephen followed the two of them down the hall, passing a few closed rooms and one open room laced to the brim with books and research papers. Most likely a home office.
They reached the last door in the hall and opened it to the smell of antiseptic, the metallic tang of blood in the air and an iffy air freshener. Stephen walked in first, seeing Tello sitting by the bed where Gila lay.
His hands were cupping hers.
"Tello..." Stephen muttered, but he didn't respond and neither did he cast him a glance.
"Nothing we do is working," Gaolei began. "It's been a week since you all landed here. We've cleaned your wounds, removed the shrapnel, and even patched you up. Still, she shows no signs of healing, even though her fever's gone down."
"Umm... what?" Stephen turned to him now, barely processing what he'd just heard.
"Her wounds are physically unable to close." He said. "The same bullet wounds she had, you had around your arm area. And you healed pretty well from it."
Stephen glanced down at his arm, at the spot where the bullet had pierced through the tendon near his elbow. It had healed now, though the ache still lingered.
"I guess."
"So how come you healed pretty quickly and she isn't?" Gaolei asked. "Were there any medicine you took, or some kind of treatment you had before we found you—"
"I'm sorry, how long has he been like this?" Stephen cut him off, glancing toward Tello.
"Umm..." Gaolei frowned. "For about three days now. He's been blaming himself for not saving her or something."
"Did he say anything about me?" Stephen asked. "Like blaming or cursing me..."
Gaolei exchanged a look with his mother. "I'm sorry, but I'm talking to you about your friend who's probably going to die from blood loss if you don't tell me how you managed to heal your own wounds."
"Yeah..." Stephen shook his head. "I didn't do anything..."
"I see. If it's a case of genetics or something, then there's nothing we can do," Gaolei resigned.
At that, Tello suddenly pushed back his chair and rushed over. "Please," he said, voice trembling. "I'll do anything... please, just save her."
"I'm sorry. But this isn't a matter of anything I can do." Gaolei explained. "She's losing blood as we speak and I've tried everything, from cauterizing, stitching and holding it together but nothing is working. It's almost like a curse or a virus in some way."
"Still, there has to be something you can do." Tello begged. "She's still breathing isn't she, there has to be a cure out there somewhere."
"Look. It's miracle enough that you're a universal donor. That's the only reason she's stayed alive this long." Gaolei said before turning to leave the room. "But you don't have anymore blood to give."
"It doesn't matter, take all of it—"
"Listen." Gaolei stopped him cold. "If you want my advice... spend what little time she has left with her. It's the best thing you can do."
The door shut behind them, both Gaolei and Olga leaving all three of them in the room by themselves.
Tello walked away, heading back to the seat and grabbing Gila by the hand.
Stephen sighed. He knew what Tello was going to say, and he had every right to. Even though he was only being logical at the time by trying to leave Gila behind, love wasn't always logical.
He stepped up to the bed, his mouth trembling as words fought to form.
"Tello, I—" He stopped, sighed, then forced the words out. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to leave without her... I was forced to make a decision, and—"
Tello didn't still look at him, he merely reached for her forehead. Curling a stray strand to the side.
Stephen stopped.
"How's she holding up?" He asked.
Tello turned to look at him.
Then all hell broke loose.
"How's she holding up?" He gave a short laugh. "Why would you care? You wanted to leave her in a burning building with a fucking hole in her chest."
Stephen paused, and for the first time in a while. Had no idea what to say.
Tello wanted to stop himself, to just turn around and ignore him like he'd been doing so far. But that question reverberated in his head, and it annoyed him to death.
He stood up slowly, closing the distance between them.
"How's she holding up, huh?" His voice rose. "You really want to know? Well, she's lost two litres of blood, she can barely speak or even breathe and her wounds wont close no matter what the doctors do. So I don't know, Stephen. Does that sound like she's holding up well to you?"
"Tello... I didn't mean it like that."
"She was there for you! She was there because of you! You were the one that dragged me into this! You were the one that dragged her as well! You were the cause of all this entire fucking bullshit and you couldn't even protect her—"
Stephen just stood there, watching as for the first time since meeting him. Tello was truly angry at him.
"...you couldn't even protect her either, because you're just a sack of blood and meat, you're so fucking useless that all you can do is flail around and watch everyone else do everything for you." Tello finished, then after a second walked back to his seat, holding his head.
"Tello, I—"
"Just go." He pointed to the door. "Just let us be."
"I..."
"GET OUT!"
Stephen flinched, then quietly stepped back, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the frame, eyes closed, listening to the muffled sobs inside, followed by a strained, wordless shout.
This was probably not the best time to talk to him, the wounds were still fresh and maybe wanting to leave without Gila to begin with was a mistake.
"You're such a dummy," Stephen muttered, smacking his forehead lightly with his fist. "Such a big dummy."
He walked down the hallway, half searching for Gaolei and half just needing anything to look at that wasn't blood or regret. As he passed one of the open doors, he spotted Gaolei behind a desk, hunched over a thick book that looked like two glued together.
"Hm?" Gaolei looked up. "Oh, Stephen. How'd the talk with your friend go? Actually, don't answer that. The walls are thin."
"I messed up a bit," Stephen muttered.
"Well, he seems to love her, and you seem to... not. So I can understand where he's coming from."
Stephen stepped into the room.
"I have to make it up to him somehow," he said, then glanced around at the piles of books scattered across the floor. "Wait... what if you cure Gila?"
"Have you been listening to anything I said?" Gaolei flipped a page. "I don't even think I'm dealing with something biological here. It's more like a curse, if anything. And I don't do curses."
"So all these books, and not one has a cure?" Stephen picked one up, flipping it open.
"I'm a doctor in practice, not a witch in the business of eternal bleeding."
Stephen glanced into the book, the first page featuring words he was sure he'd never seen before.
"This book says otherwise." Stephen showed him the page. "This has to summon some sort of demon! Just what are you hiding, doctor."
"That's basic algebra." Gaolei deadpanned.
"...I knew that," Stephen lied, snapping the book shut. "Just testing if you did."
"Right."
Stephen put the book down and made way for the door, he needed fresh air to recoup his thoughts. To even know where to go next, and more importantly, what to do next.
He took a step out and Gaolei spoke.
"Also, I've been meaning to tell you." He began. "But our services that helped bring you back to a relatively full recovery, aren't free."
"Ehh?
"Your bill is a hundred thousand gold." Gaolei said, "we take cash or deposit."
"Wait a second now." Stephen's hand shot out. "I'm thankful and all, but we didn't exactly beg you to help us. You made that decision, you can't charge us for that."
"Your friend Tello had a skull fracture, needed a blood transfusion, and a dozen stitches," Gaolei said, still flipping pages. "If you can't pay, we can always pull him off the transfusions. He's just about out of blood anyway after giving almost half to that girl."
Stephen dragged his hand down his face.
"You might not care about her," Gaolei added, "but you definitely care about him. You wouldn't want him to die, right?"
"I'll get you your money." Stephen grumbled and walked away.
"Thank you!" Gaolei's voice echoed through the hall.
This was an annoying moment for him, and even though he was finally in the clear from the mage knights and Verre, he still didn't know where he was. He had no money for shelter or food and now there was a hospital bill on top of that.
Stephen sighed, then stepped outside the building, into a wide, open field lined with wildflowers along the edges.
From where he stood, he could hear the birds chirping, cows feeding on grass in the distance, and most familiar of all an eager neigh.
Stephen turned, eyes widening as Darla came running toward him at full speed.
"Darla!" he shouted, running to meet her halfway. He caught her by the snout as she nuzzled into him, her breath warm against his hands.
"Your horse there saved you," Olga said as she walked past, a bundle of hay in her arms. "If she hadn't carried you all that way, we'd never have found you on our way back from Rusk."
"That reminds me..." Stephen called before she got too far. "Where even are we?"
Olga turned, the hay nearly covering her face.
"Just a little ways outside the capital," she said. "That's Renauld, since you're clearly not from here."
"Oh..." Stephen nodded. "And where exactly is Renauld?"
"The fourth city of Nox." She turned away again, whistling as she went. "The beautiful city of Rennes! Now, come on, horsey. You need your strength, or you'll end up in the glue factory."
Darla neighed sharply, then trotted after Olga into a small barn, already nosing the hay.
Stephen stood there alone, staring at the field for what felt like hours before shaking his head.
"Well, you heard him, System. I guess we'll need to find a way to get money. If only Verre didn't barge in before the night was over." He sighed, waving a hand. "But forget that... how was I able to heal while Gila wasn't? Please tell me there's something you can do to help her."
But there was no reply.
"System?" he muttered again.