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As the displacer beast bore down on Caleb, Fjord skidded into place between them. One of the beast’s tails lashed towards him in the wizard’s place. Fjord moved to deflect it with the Star Razer, but he misjudged the strike.
From his left a call resounded, deep and calming. Its power faltered the beast. The hit still stings, still fills his veins with fire as it pierces his armor, but it should have been worse.
Caleb slung fire around Fjord, bringing the beast to the earth with a pained cry. Fjord turned, adrenaline numbing his pain. Another one of the beasts, part of a pack that found them just as they sought camp, stalked quietly towards Caduceus. As it leapt towards him, cloak magic faltering, Fjord summoned a shield of divine light between them. The beast struck the shield, hissing in fury. It remains for only a few seconds before Caduceus and the Wildmother have slain it.
Caduceus meets Fjord’s gaze for an instant, and they share the faintest nod of understanding. Acknowledgement.
Somehow it means so much more coming from Cad.
Another low growl draws his focus, and Fjord is thrown back into the thrum of battle.
~~~~~~~
It is after, when they have settled somewhere quieter and the rush has left his mind that the pain found him. His cloak concealed the worst of it, though of course it was noticed.
"Fjord!" Jester had cried, pouring the last of her healing magic into a slumped Beau. "You're hurt!"
"It's nothing," he assured them. "I'll be fine. Let's focus on getting everyone somewhere safer first."
No one was fooled, but he was still walking, so they let it go.
Now that the pain had caught up to him, Fjord sat himself to rest against a fallen log near the fire. Caleb was setting up his dome while Yasha and Nott searched the area for dinner and Jester fretted over Beau.
Fjord set a hand over the wound. The sharpness of that sensation made him tense involuntarily. He poured the last of his pool of healing. Not enough. Not nearly, but he wouldn’t be bleeding out.
It had been a rough day. Those beasts were not the first enemy to cross their path since they woke. Normally he would prod Jester or Cad for some healing with how shit he felt, but Jester was wiped. And Cad had been doing his fair share of keeping everyone alive that day. He might be out too, and Fjord didn't want to see the guilt and concern on his face if he asked and Cad couldn't help.
There were a few potions left, but some rest would do him just as much good. He could do some self healing in the morning and be right as rain without wasting a potion. It just made sleep a little more challenging.
He sat there for a few moments, eyes closed as he focused on his breathing to distract from the pain. He wasn’t certain how long he sat there, surely only a few moments, before he heard someone approach. His next breath carried the heavy, earthy scent of a familiar firblog.
“Hello Caduceus,” he said, eyes flicking open.
“Hullo Fjord,” was his reply as he knelt beside him. “Allow me.”
“I’m quite alright, really,” he tried to object. But Caduceus didn’t really grace that with a response, and if he was offering, well.
Over his years, and especially since meeting his friends, Fjord had come to learn how varied magical healing could feel. The bright, energizing rush from a potion, the burst, like light and laughter, from Jester and The Traveler’s magic, and Caduceus…
His magic settled over him like sleep, like softness and warmth, like peace and safety. Not always the most helpful in the midst of battle, but always welcome.
He’d found all magic from the Wildmother to be warm and comforting, but there was something in this healing that was all Caduceus.
“Thank you for catching that attack,” Fjord told him as healing washed over him. “That...thing was about to skewer me.”
He let out a little laugh, drawing a smile from the cleric amidst his focus. From this close, he could see the soft fuzz of his face, the dark circles from a long day.
“I doubt a few displacer beasts would be enough to take you down.”
He couldn’t take a compliment, Fjord had noticed. Caduceus sat back, examining his completed work as the warmth slowly faded from Fjord’s body. “And thank you, Fjord, for the shield.”
“The Wildmother has been...gracious,” he said simply, noting his own hypocrisy.
“To us both,” the cleric agreed with a tired smile and nod. “Go--”
He started to speak, but Caleb interrupted with a call that he was done. Yasha and Nott had returned, roasting up rats and more palatable meats for the others.
“Food, then rest?” Fjord suggested, slowly easing to his feet.
“Food, then rest,” he agreed.
Fjord wondered what he might have said. Maybe nothing, maybe not. But the lure of friends and food and sleep and familiarity called him, so he strayed from the possibilities beyond that edge.
And later, laying in the dome back-to-back with Caduceus and Frumpkin curled between him and Caleb, he rather thought that he liked the way things were right now. He wasn’t ready for things to change. Not yet.