We held each other's gaze, the silence stretching uncomfortably, and then I quickly stood up, wiping away the tears on my cheeks and forcing my expression neutral. "Ah, Airmid, what are you doing here this late?" I asked. Airmid studied me for another beat, then nodded to herself as if coming to some understanding.
"What a coincidence to meet you here, Mister Arin. I was just walking around the forest gathering the rare herbs that are particular to this region."
"H-hm... I see. But still, you need to be careful. Who knows when a stray monster might appear." I cautioned, trying to regain my composure.
She shook her head, "Thank you for worrying, but you're forgetting that I'm also an adventurer. The monsters around here won't cause too much trouble." She paused, "But if it's not too much trouble, can you accompany me back to camp? It seems I've gathered a little too much to carry alone." She gestured behind her. I followed her gaze and spotted three more baskets some distance away, all brimming with plants.
"Sure, I don't mind."
"Thank you." She retrieved another basket while I collected the rest, and we headed back toward camp.
As we walked, she stopped occasionally to examine new specimens, adding them to her collection. After a few minutes of companionable silence, she spoke. "Are you feeling alright?" For a second, I thought she meant the confession. My heart lurched. "With your injuries, I mean," she added quickly.
"Oh." I exhaled in relief. "Yes, thanks to you, I'm completely fine now. I can't thank you enough for everything you did."
She placed newly gathered herbs in the basket and shook her head. "As I've said, there's no need to thank me for doing my job. But I am glad you've recovered well." She stopped to examine a cluster of small white flowers growing at the base of a tree. "These mountains truly are remarkable. The concentration of medicinal herbs here far exceeds most regions, even within the dungeon."
"Is that why you came all this way? For the herbs?
"Partly. The Alv Mountains are sacred to the elves, but they're also a treasure trove for healers." She carefully plucked several flowers and placed them in her basket. "Some of these plants only grow in places with strong natural energy. They're invaluable for high-grade potions."
"That must be why healers value this region so highly."
"It is." She straightened, brushing dirt from her hands, and once again we walked in silence for a while, the sound of our footsteps soft against the forest floor. Airmid would occasionally stop to examine a plant or herb, making small comments about its properties or uses.
"This one helps with muscle recovery," she explained, holding up a purple-leafed plant. "And this," she gestured to a moss growing on a rock, "is excellent for treating burns."
"You really know your craft. " I commented as she continued teaching me about the herbs.
"I've been doing this for a long time. Though there's always more to learn. Medicine and healing are fields that never stop evolving."
"That's a good way to look at it."
She nodded, placing the moss carefully in her basket. "One of my seniors once told me, 'The moment you think you know everything is the moment you stop growing.' Every patient, every injury teaches me something new." She crouched down beside another plant. "Speaking of which, how has your recovery been progressing? Any lingering pain or discomfort?"
"No, I'm good. Really. You did an excellent job."
"Hmm." Her purple eyes studied me with that professional assessment healers seemed to have. "You're moving well, no signs of strain. Good." She turned back to her herb gathering. "Still, you should avoid any strenuous activity for at least another few days. Your body needs time to fully recover."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"See that you do." There was a hint of sternness in her voice. "I didn't put all that effort into healing you just to have you undo it by being reckless."
"Yes, ma'am."
She glanced at me, and I caught the slight curve of her lips—amusement, maybe approval. "Good. You're more reasonable than some of my patients."
"Thank... you?" I wasn't sure how to take that.
We continued through the forest, the camp's lights beginning to appear through the trees. We reached the edge of camp, firelight flickering through the trees. Airmid paused, turning to face me. "Mister Arin." Her purple eyes met mine. "You shouldn't worry too much about what happened earlier."
I stiffened, my stomach dropping. "So... you heard that?" The question came out strangled. "All of it?"
"Not intentionally—I was already there gathering herbs." Her expression remained neutral, but I could feel the kindness in her voice. "I didn't mean to intrude on such a private moment."
My face burned. I looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "I—"
"Your sincerity reached them," she interrupted softly. "I'm certain of it. Speaking from the heart, being that vulnerable and honest—that kind of courage doesn't go unnoticed."
I looked back at her, really looked at her. The small talk throughout our walk, the gentle conversation, the distraction with herbs and healing techniques—she'd been trying to help me calm down. To ease the emotional turbulence after the confession. Everything clicked into place.
She was a healer through and through. Not just of bodies, but of hearts and minds too.
"You..." I started, then stopped. My throat tightened. "Thank you," I managed, the words inadequate for what she'd done. She merely nodded as we entered the camp properly, drawing a few glances from those still awake who gave a nod in our direction before going back to talking among themselves. Airmid headed toward where her medical supplies were stored, and I helped her set down the baskets.
"Thank you for your help, Arin," she said, beginning to sort through the herbs. "Both with carrying these and for the conversation."
"I should be thanking you. For... everything."
"Then once again we're even." She looked up. "Now get some rest. Your body needs sleep to finish recovering."
"Yes, ma'am." As I walked toward my tent, each step felt less weighted than before. The confession still pressed on my mind—what they were thinking, what they'd say, whether I'd ruined everything. But Airmid's words had taken the edge off the panic.
And now I just wanted to sleep.
If I could.
I ducked into my tent, the familiar space suddenly feeling both too small and too empty. I lay down on my bedroll, staring up at the canvas ceiling.
Four pairs of eyes. Jade, sky-blue, gold, cyan.
All wide with shock.
I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the memory. Trying not to imagine them talking amongst themselves right now, deciding what to say to me.
Sleep felt impossible.
But exhaustion—emotional and physical—eventually pulled me under. Tomorrow I'd have to face them. Look them in the eyes after laying my heart bare.
What would I see there?
Pity?
Rejection?
Awkwardness?
Or... something else?
The questions chased me into uneasy dreams.