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No Healing from That

WaterRose, Meadow Mountain, Grier Country

Sebastian woke slowly. Awash with pain.

He saw a dark head lowered over him and met the gray eyes of his friend.

“Chavias.” He greeted through a throat that felt stuffed with cotton.

How’d I get here?

“Your bloody luck is astounding! How you’re alive escapes me.” Chavias’ gray eyes were wide.

“Me as well.” Bast tried to sit but felt the cutting pain stabbing through his back and into his chest. “How am I alive?”

“I’m not sure this time. You healed. Did you manage that?”

“I don’t recall attempting to heal myself.”

“Well, you should have. I would’ve.”

Bast laughed humorlessly.

“You must quit with all this recklessness. We all knew it was a matter of time before some woman’s angry husband stuck you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“You had to have guessed?” Chavias said sternly. His look incredulous.

“How’d you find me?”

“I didn’t. The Captain was passing through Mane and caught a whiff of your blood.”

“Where was I?”

“Thrown into the underbrush.”

“Is Moira well?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea who or what a Moira is. But perhaps you should worry for your own welfare this moment. Least until you heal.”

Bast grunted and flopped back to the pillows. Staring at the unfinished ceiling above him. The stronghold isn’t half done yet. It was a monument to the Captain and his mate. Despite that she never made it off the mountain that night.

All the more reason. He hoped it’d give their Captain some comfort when finished.

“Rest.” Chavias ordered. Pushing a palm to Bast’s forehead which caused Sebastian’s body to go limp.

“How is he?” Captain Deragan asked from the doorway.

“Still weak.”

“Did he mention who did this?”

“No. But in his sleep, kept asking, ‘who needs to look after me. Who?’ Then he’d quiet.”

“Any idea what he spoke of?”

“None.” Chavias was baffled.

They were quiet awhile.

“It’s remarkable he’s alive. How?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, bless your skills in battle wounds.” Deragan put a hand to Chavias’ shoulder. “I had little hope for him when I got him here.”

“I did very little.” Chavias shrugged.

“What?” Deragan frowned. “That’s impossible. He was covered in blood. Laying in a pool of it. That should’ve been enough to hollow him out…”

“Well when I examined him, he was relatively healed already.”

“That was a life-threatening wound.” Deragan objected.

“I know.” Chavias nodded solemnly.

“We don’t heal from those.”

“I know.”

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