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Leave it to the Institute to make them train outdoors on the hottest day of the year. Something about how you could never predict how a monster’s abilities could manifest, and being used to any circumstances was a good quality for knights to have. Ambrosius didn’t say anything at the time, but this really felt like a disaster waiting to happen.
And happen it did.
It took a while for him to realize, because a lot of what was happening just seemed like the aftermath of exercising in the heat—the sweating, the reddened face, the heavy breathing, the racing heart. How was he supposed to know something was wrong? How was he supposed to recognize it as worse than just exhaustion? Admittedly really, really bad exhaustion, but even then.
The first inkling that something was actually wrong was when Ballister came over to check on him during a break and Ambrosius couldn’t hardly get words out. He felt foggy and a little dizzy, and the only thing he was able to speak between harsh breaths was: “‘m fine. Don’ worry abou’ it…”
He saw Ballister’s frown deepen instantaneously, a hand coming to rest on his armored shoulder. “Are you sure? You don’t look so good.”
“‘S nothing.” He slurred, shrugging off the hand.
Ballister looked like he was just about to say something else, concern firmly etched into his brow, when their instructor called for the end of break. Ambrosius stood slowly, wiping a hand across his brow and being mildly disgusted at just how soaked his glove was with sweat, and journeyed back towards the center of the field.
It could’ve only been a few minutes later that he found himself laying on his back, vision blurring as blobs of color moved around in his vision and shouting voices reached his ears, rendered indecipherable by the haze. He felt a hand land on his forehead for only a second before it jerked back as if burned. He groaned as hands found their way under his back and legs and he was lifted into someone’s arms. He couldn’t tell where they were going, having to squeeze his eyes shut because the movement was making his head hurt, but by the time he reopened them he was staring at a bright white ceiling instead of the clear sky. He shut his eyes again.
—
When Ambrosius woke up he was lying in a bed in what appeared to be the Institute’s medical ward, head pounding and sick to his stomach. He only had to look down for a second to realize he’d been stripped of his armor and left only in a tank top and his boxers, surrounded by ice packs and wet towels, one of which slipped off his forehead as soon as he moved. He sat up slowly, still feeling an ache in his entire body and an itchy burning sensation on his face and neck. He had just managed to get his entire upper body off the bed when the door opened and he watched Ballister walk in, closing the door slowly behind him.
“Bal?”
Ballister jumped, quickly turning around and sighing in relief. “You’re awake!”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ambrosius said, throat a little scratchy. “What happened?”
“You got heat stroke during combat training today.” Ballister said, pulling up a chair beside the bed. “Passed out on the field and everything, I had to carry you inside.”
“Oh.” Ambrosius said dumbly, fuzzy memories coming back to him.
“Yeah.” Ballister said. “Nasty sunburn too.”
Ah, so that’s what the itchy feeling was. Ambrosius hummed, waving it off. “It’ll make me more tan.”
Ballister laughed. “I don’t know if that’s the kind of tanline you want.”
“Well, sure, it’ll look weird when I’m dressed casual.” Ambrosius argued. “But in uniform you won’t be able to tell, and that’s basically the only time the public’s going to see me anyway. Besides, it’ll fade eventually.”
“Just as long as you don’t go out in the sun.”
“What, like that’ll be hard?” Ambrosius shrugged, smiling a bit. “They’re probably going to ban me from direct sunlight for a couple weeks at least. I doubt they want to chance a repeat of what happened.”
“Can they actually ban you from the sun?” Ballister asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Well, I don’t know, but they’re definitely going to try.”
“I’m sure.”
“What time is it?” Ambrosius asked, leaning back against the pillows.
“Pretty late.”
“By whose standards?” Ambrosius teased and Ballister rolled his eyes.
“The Institute’s.” He said. “It’s only around ten.”
Ambrosius grimaced. “Was I out that long?”
“Well, not really.” Ballister explained. “You woke up a few times, but I assume you were just too delirious to process any of it.”
“Hm.”
“Most of the time it was to vomit, so you should probably be glad you missed it.”
“Gross.” Ambrosius wrinkled his nose, before something else occurred to him. “Have you been with me the whole time?”
“Well, not the whole time.” Ballister said. “I can’t just skip classes because my…my best friend isn’t feeling well. I did stop in a lot though. The nurse was nice enough to give me updates. She even said she wouldn’t tell the Institute just how much I was checking in.”
“Why would it be a problem if they knew?” Ambrosius said, deciding not to think too hard about why Ballister hesitated before the words ‘best friend.’
“Are you actually asking?” Ballister asked, incredulous, and Ambrosius felt a bit stupid nodding. “Do you know how quickly the director would get on my case for it? She already gets odd about how much we hangout.”
“The Director is weird about everything having to do with me.” Ambrosius said, rolling her eyes. “I’m pretty sure she’d start giving the air dirty looks if she thought it would interfere with my studies.”
“Right.” Ballister said, seemingly thinking hard. Though Ambrosius couldn’t possibly guess what about. “I’m sorry.”
Ambrosius raised an eyebrow. “What for?”
“Nothing.” Ballister said after a couple seconds, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”
“Okay?” Ambrosius said. What was that about? “Anyway, what I mean is, the Director can think whatever she wants. She can’t stop us from hanging out.”
“Didn’t you say she’d ban you from sunlight?” Ballister teased. “What makes you think she won’t ban you from me?”
“Even if she did, I’d break the rules for you.” Ambrosius said, completely matter of fact.
“You would?” Ballister asked, seemingly actually surprised. Ambrosius smiled fondly.
“Yeah, of course.” Ambrosius said. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“I…I don’t know.” Ballister stumbled, face a little red. “I just…I don’t know if I’m really worth breaking the rules for.”
“Well that’s ridiculous.” Ambrosius scoffed. “You’re a hundred percent worth breaking the rules for.”
“Even if it made the Director mad at you?”
“Even if she ran me through with my own sword.” Ambrosius grinned. “Nothing could keep me from you.”
It was quiet for a few seconds, Ballister looking at him with this stupid smile on his face. Sometimes, Ambrosius just wanted to kiss a silly look like that right off his face. But those weren’t really the kinds of thoughts people usually think about their best friends, so he stomped it down. Existential crises were for 3 in the morning, not 10 o’clock at night. After a moment, Ballister glanced down at his watch, frowning. “I should probably go before someone tracks me down for missing curfew.”
“Probably.” Ambrosius said, though there was a part of him that wanted to beg Ballister to stay. To hold him. “But, before you leave, can you please get me a blanket? Getting heat stroke and hypothermia in the same day doesn’t sound like fun.”
Ballister laughed lightly. “Just a second.”
He got up and made his way across the office and returned a few minutes later with a smaller white blanket. Ambrosius took it gratefully, smiling at him. Ballister gave him one last bid goodnight before walking back to the door and opening it as quietly as possible. “Hey Bal?”
“Yeah?” Ballister whispered, glancing over his shoulder.
“See you tomorrow.” Ambrosius whispered back, watching a satisfied smile light up Ballister’s face.
“I’ll see you then.”
And with that, he left, and Ambrosius was left to stare at the darkened ceiling, a smile on his sunburnt face.