Chapter Text
“I swear to god, take another jacket besides that one, Adaine. You wear it twenty-four seven anyway, try something new.”
“What’s wrong with mine?” Adaine questioned, not looking away from her duffel bag. Filled with books to pass the time, extra clothing, emergency supplies, and more for the trip. Boggy ribbited on Adaine’s shoulder, but Aelwyn couldn’t tell if it was in agreement with her or with Adaine.
Hector was taking up more space in the duffel bag than she could use. However, Adaine gave up on trying to keep him out after the seventh attempt to take him out. (And the multiple bite and claw marks lining her denim sleeves)
Aelwyn never got the gist of spring break projects. Maybe it was because of her time spent in Hudol, where she never did any actual adventuring projects. For Adaine’s senior year project, however, it was traveling to the Mountains of Chaos to retrieve some chronomancy artifact for Arthur.
Call her paranoid, or maybe Adaine’s anxiety started to rub off on her, but Aelwyn wasn’t exactly happy about letting Adaine go.
Maybe Adaine was rubbing off on her. She was a talented adventurer, and so were the rest of the Bad Kids; mountains and some freezing temperatures weren't going to kill her sister.
Aelwyn scoffed, leaning on her cane while she skimmed through the closet. “Hello? You’re going to the Mountains of Chaos; it may be spring, but it doesn’t mean the cold won’t relent.”
“I’ll be fine, Aelwyn,” Adaine remarked. Double-checking through all of the small pockets, toothbrushes, and extra medical supplies just in case Kristen or Fig couldn’t cast their normal healing spells.
There, a navy puffer jacket caught Aelwyn’s eye. Grabbing it by the hanger's handle as she walked over to Adaine, her cane making the normal rhythmic click against the hardwood floors. “I just don’t want my only sister dying from hypothermia and frostbite.”
“I’m not going to die from the cold, Aelwyn–”
“You may have saved the world, what? Three times–”
“Actually, four, Night Yorb, Nightmare King–Jeez, we fight a lot of ‘night’ things–”
“Just take the fucking jacket, Adaine,” Aelwyn chucked the clothing to Adaine, still looking away. However, with a small flash of blue in her eyes, a hand easily shot out and grabbed the jacket before it hit her head.
Adaine didn’t say anything as she took off the hanger and stuffed the jacket into her bag. Boggy ribbited in reassurance, but Aelwyn still couldn’t tell if it was for both of them or one. Goddamn that stupidly round frog.
“When are you leaving anyway?” Aelwyn asked, walking back towards the bunk beds.
Adaine closed the bag, zipping it close halfway, but enough space for Hector to climb out whenever he chose to. “Tomorrow morning, SandraLynn ordered some griffins for us to fly on to reach the mountains. Near a ranger post, then we’ll start walking on foot.”
Aelwyn placed her cane leaning on the bottom bedpost. With a small sigh, she lies down on the mattress, rolling over with feigned exhaustion to make room for Adaine. The springs creaked underneath both of their bodies.
“Don’t get yourself killed out there.”
“I won’t–”
“If you do, I’m going to whatever afterlife you end up in, find you, and kill you again.”
“Love you too, Aelwyn.”
His crystal provided nothing. No service to call the nearest ranger station, not to call Aelwyn, Zayn, or Ayda to Scry or Sending Adaine. Nothing.
Riz wanted to scream out of frustration, but his vocal cords were already burning from the amount of shouting he had already done. So, he opted to muffle the growing desperation under a deep, trembling sigh.
God, he didn’t even know why he tried. Things make people desperate.
If you could count “Things” as your best friend, missing hundreds of feet under the ice. And “Things” also count being hours after she’s been lost, while not a single one of you and your friends has made any progress on finding her or even reaching her.
Riz chucked the crystal back into his bag, a small crack sounding out that he would’ve normally cared for meant nothing. Nothing, no Sending spell scroll, no radio communication with anyone that they need.
He quickly walked out of the tent, leaving the ransacked, and wildly searched through the tent area alone. A problem for future Riz, maybe a future where Adaine was by his side, he was no Oracle, however.
Snow pricked at his face like thorns, and wind howled in his large ears like a constant reminder of Adaine’s scream when she fell through the second crevice. The spring sun felt like it provided no warmth in the mountains, a useless star in the sky during the day, here in all places at least.
Adaine fell when it was around midnight, if Riz’s confused and panicked mind was right and remembering correctly.
With the bright sun peaking above the horizon, twilight was long gone, with dawn had finally passed with the sun in its full height. Riz pulled up the sleeve of his dress shirt. The Arcadian watch showed that it was around seven thirty-two am.
Seven hours at least, seven hours is how long Adaine has been missing. When was the last time any one of them went missing? And for this long period of time?
At least when Adaine was kidnapped by Fallinel in their sophomore year, they knew where she was.
Gorgug was by the trench, kneeling down on the ice and snow with the newly made makeshift mechanism. A pulley system, basic but enough for their cause. Up and down the trench when they needed to. A long wooden log chopped down from a tree by Gorgug stretched between both sides of the trench. A wheel was stolen from one of the bandits' wagons, combined with a rope.
Gorgug being the anchor of it all, ironically.
He was the one to find Adaine alive at the bottom of the trench when everyone thought she was dead. He was the one to notice Adaine fighting at the bottom of the trench with the ice mephits, to build the pulley.
“Down?” Gorgug mumbled, not meeting Riz’s gaze. His voice was hoarse, the grip on the rope of the pulley tight with how his knuckles were turning a lighter green.
Riz gave an affirmative hum. No longer trusting his voice to respond in a steady sound.
The situation, including the ice that fell over the second crevice, was a confusing one. From the Sword of Sight, cracking the ice straight down in the middle, splitting the ground into two sides.
It essentially made a second floor to the trench. The left side of the trench was intact, unstable, but intact enough to be walked on. To the right, however, since it broke apart into ice chunks, it fell over the second crevice.
Now, making a densely packed amount of broken chunks of ice, making a space that was about ten feet tall from the remaining ice floor of the original trench.
His scuffed dress shoes planted on the ice with a soft thud. Snow softly kicked up not from the wind but from the nearby mess.
Kristen, Fig, and Fabian stole a few shovels from the bandit camp they raided shortly after Adaine’s first fall. Even a pickaxe or two that were originally made for ice climbing, but now found a new use.
Trying to dig through the packed ice.
Right after Adaine’s second fall, they had made the pulley system, raided the old bandit camp again for the tools, and started to work. All of their progress was at best a fifteen to eighteen-foot hole, maybe a twenty-foot hole.
At first, it was an easy task, just start digging and hope to find either Adaine or find where she fell. Yet as they kept on digging, maybe a foot in the ground started to slowly become more and more unstable with each dig.
So, painstakingly, they had to slow their efforts in the name of not trying to make the ground collapse underneath them, and that was above Adaine.
Wherever she was.
Riz walked over to the edge of the middle of the trench. He took another trip down a poorly tied and anchored rope by himself in the rush. At least the wind didn’t prick at his face and body, not covered by clothing like needles down here.
Fabian was lying down on his back, the lantern, again stolen from the bandit camp, alighting on the second layer of the trench. His chest was rising and falling quickly, trying to gain more energy.
The girls were in the hole, another rope leading down to the two of them. Riz walked over with soft exhales and looked down. Another lantern, the fire slowly dying out as it lit the two girls.
Fig was using a pickaxe specifically made for ice, clipping away at the ice bit by bit with a growing frustration and desperation on her face.
Kristen was barely keeping up with the progress. Her face flushed red from the cold; the winter jacket she packed was barely enough to scare away the cold. Freckled and calloused hands, trembling with each motion of the shovel.
Riz cleared his throat, and Fabian looked up his spot from the ground. Eyes widening with anticipation and desperation while he scrambled to his feet. Fabian stood up, his shaking legs from staying up all morning and night trying to dig.
“Nothing,” Riz mumbled, but the silence of the trench and the quiet tension between them were enough for his voice to be heard. “No service, the nearest ranger station is a one and a half day trip–”
“Adaine doesn’t have that much time, The Ball,” Fabian snapped back, the exhaustion obviously taking a toll. “H-How about Sending–”
“Adaine had it, but guess what, Fabian, she isn’t here anymore,” Riz mumbled back.
The sudden crack of ice snapped Riz out of his train of thought. His heart spiked with fear, another tremor? Instead, a pickaxe was digging into the edge of the ice near the hole, Fig climbing out with heaving breaths that made smoke come out from her mouth. Kristen follows close behind her.
“Adaine’s gonna be fucking dead by the time we dig through this stupid ice,” Fig grumbled. Yet her voice held a slight tremble to it, red eyes avoiding anyone’s gaze as well.
“Don’t say that,” Fabian turned his growing anger towards Fig. “She’s alive, so don’t bring the mood down with your stupid theories, Fig.”
“It’s been hours, and all we have is some stupid fucking hole!” Fig yelled, her voice echoing through the otherwise empty trench. “No sign that she’s alive! No communication with her or even her own fucking body!”
“Fig–”
“No! All that we have of Adaine is her stuff! And her fucking torn off arm Riz!” Fig cut off Riz’s attempt to interrupt.
Riz wanted to puke a bit at the slight mention of Adaine’s arm. The cleaved limb was gathered by Kristen who looked squeamish and wrapped it in a cloth. There was no hope to reattach it but just the sight or even mention of it made bile rise in the goblin’s throat. It was the least that they could do, salvage what could be the last part of Adaine that they had.
Another tense silence covered the four teens like a blanket. Fig was panting for breath, the manual labor was strange to the bard so the exhaustion piled up on her more easily.
“It’s my fault,” Fig mumbled, her voice no longer even attempting to hold itself together. Those red eyes always filled with confidence broke easily. “I was holding Adaine, maybe if I had a better grip o-or was stronger I could’ve pulled her up–”
Fabian placed his hand on her shoulder. “We should’ve been more careful but it’s no one’s fault Fig–”
“It’s mine!” Fig jerked herself away from Fabian. “I should’ve held on tighter m-maybe if I did she would be here and not, fucking, god who knows how far away from us! Not even that! I should’ve fell in with her–”
Fig’s words drowned out in Riz’s twitching ears. He wanted to pay attention, really he did in all honesty.
His gaze locked on the burning phoenix feathers attached to a piercing on Fig’s ear instead. Oh, god, how stupid was he? The stupid answer was dangling right in front of him, or, well in front of him and a foot above him.
They–well, Fig could call Ayda. Then the phoenix could teleport here, and maybe, just maybe she had Scrying or Sending. A glimmer of hope that was like a fire in a snowstorm.
“Fig–”
“Adaine should be–”
“Fig!” Riz shouted. Hushing the rambling and now crying tiefling. Fabian snapped his head towards Riz while Kristen wrapped an arm around Fig’s shoulders. “Your feather! Ayda’s! You can call her right?!”
Fig looked stunned, her watering eyes widening and held her fixated gaze onto Riz. Shock and a bit of confusion ran through her face before her hands shot up to her left ear.
Her hands trembled and fumbled with the earring before it clattered into her freezing palm. Fig held the feather tightly as if it would disintegrate the moment she let go. “Ayda Aguefort, please come to me!”
Sorting books in the Compass Point Library was oddly peaceful. Perhaps it was from the scarce number of people minus Ayda, Rawlins, and, of course, the normal passing by drunken pirates. Even Adaine and Fig, maybe Zayn or Ragh, if they wanted to annoy her.
The bright morning spring sun shone through the library.
Normally, Aelwyn was never a morning person, but today happened to be an exception. Her knees weren’t flaring in pain as usual, and the cats behaved during their breakfast. Most of the Compass Point books were already sorted, so she was truly just double-checking.
Hector curled up with Milo, a gray cat missing his left ear, deaf in his left ear, on a small pile of books. Aelwyn used Mage Hand to take from said pile, sorting onto the shelf by topic. Abjuration, divination, necromancy, curses, and–
“Aelwyn Abernant, where are you? Foremost, however, do you have Scrying and or Sending available? Adaine is in danger, lost in the Mountains of Chaos.”
Ayda’s voice was unmistakable, and yet it brought no sense of comfort or stability for Aelwyn.
The proper and reasonable part in Aelwyn’s already racing mind was to reply to Ayda. Say she would look and ask for more details on Adaine.
Key words, proper and reasonable. Aelwyn was not going to be either with the sudden news of her sister in danger.
She nearly stumbled to the ground in an attempt to reach her spellbook near the cats. An already softly trembling hand grabbed her cane, the sudden remembrance of her condition.
Moving as fast as she could with her weak lower body, Aelwyn nearly slammed her spell book open, her free hand flipping page after page with such speed that the paper nearly ripped.
Invisibility, Lightning Bolt, Teleportation (though she reminded herself to keep that one in mind), Misty Step, Hold Person, and Monster.
No, no, oh for god’s sake, why didn’t she have Scrying or Sending prepared?!
Aelwyn hadn’t a clue what Adaine was even in danger from. Yes, she heard the lost part, but Adaine was an adventurer, traveled through the Nightmare King’s forest, went all over Spyre for the Night Yorb, and more that Aelwyn couldn’t bother to think of right now.
Hector meowed right next to her. His whiskers suddenly brushed against her hand, gripping the page of the Shield spell.
No, she can’t panic now. Adaine is in danger, far, far away from where Aelwyn can do anything.
“I’ve searched, I have neither spells prepared, Ayda. What is happening? What happened to Adaine, and where are the other Bad Kids?” Aelwyn mumbled her response to Ayda under her trembling breath. Returning the phoenix’s Sending spell.
While she didn't enjoy the rest of the Bad Kids, if she wanted to know what happened to her dear sister, she had to go through her friends first.
Gods, those people were supposed to protect her, and–was it just Adaine missing? Or was it all of them? And if so, how did Ayda get in contact with them? If it was just Adaine missing, maybe her little sister had a better shot at being found with six other pairs of eyes looking for her.
“Fig contacted me via feather, I recall, is a bandit fight gone wrong. Adaine fell through a fissure. Ground unstable and she fell through again.”
“So what? She’s lost underground? Mountains are filled with caverns and cave labyrinths, Ayda. What are the rest of Bad Kids and you doing?”
That’s even assuming Adaine survived the falls. Aelwyn pushes the idea of Adaine dead on the ground, hundreds of feet under ice, away into a corner of her mind.
“Trying to dig through the ice, collapsed over the second fissure. No contact with Adaine, no one available has Scrying, she isn’t responding to Sending.”
“How long ago was this? How long has Adaine been missing Ayda?”
“Adaine fell through the second fissure around midnight, maybe one in the morning. Want me to teleport to your location, Aelwyn?”
If Adaine was stuck in the Mountains of Chaos, Aelwyn knew one woman who could help. Painfully.
“Where’s SandraLynn?” Aelwyn aimed her sharper tone at Jawbone.
The said werewolf was with Ragh and Tracker in the kitchen. The smell of spaghetti reached her nose, but the thought of food sickened her now.
Jawbone had a plate of spaghetti handed out towards Tracker, who gave her a confused gaze. He placed the platter into his niece's hands before turning to Aelwyn. “She should be at work? What’s wrong, kiddo?”
“Sending from Ayda, Adaine is lost underneath the ice of the Mountains of Chaos–”
Ragh choked on the noodles and meat, fork clattering onto his plate. Jawbone’s eyes already widened with shock and a growing look of fear.
“What, what do you mean lost underneath the ice?” Tracker asked.
God’s, she didn’t have time to explain. “Where exactly is SandraLynn working?” Aelwyn demanded.
“Border patrol? But I don’t know where–”
“For fucks sake you’re all useless,” Aelwyn muttered under her breath, cutting off Tracker’s words. She reached into her back pocket, her crystal cold against her hand.
Aelwyn was too busy trying to unlock her crystal, and she nearly pulled away from the pawed hand on her shoulder out of surprise. “Aelwyn?”
“What Jawbone?” She snapped back faster than she could comprehend the words slipping out of her mouth. “If Adaine is lost since the other Bad Kids couldn’t protect her, then I need someone other than those incompetent children to help find my sister.”
Jawbone let his hand fall from Aelwyn right as she turned back to her crystal.
Baxter squawked as the cold air blew harder. Even with the griffins’ added feathers and warm body heat, he never seemed to enjoy the cold.
“I know Baxter, just a little longer and we’ll be at the station!” SandraLynn yelled over the howling wind. The Mountains of Chaos’s horrible weather was never great for flying.
Baxter only gave what she could tell was an exaggerated groan.
“Yeah, yeah, be mad, you giant bird, but we’re only here for the regular check-up up alright? Then we’ll be heading back somewhere warmer!”
SandraLynn shivered from the cold herself. Even with the added layers of warmth from the cloak, jacket, and new winter pants, a stark contrast to her usual attire. It was never enough to fight against the cold.
Hells, she should’ve taken one of Jawbone’s cardigans for more heat. The werewolves’ clothing was always surprisingly warm and more comfortable by a mile than her uniformed ones.
Looming mountains stared down at her while she soared in the sky with Baxter. Yet while the cold air pricked the two, the burning sun of spring provided warmth against the fight against frostbite. Treelines, blankets of snow, rocky formations, all of the mountain’s beauty from thousands of feet above the air.
Gods, how in the hell were her kids (plus the boys) supposed to trek through that? Not to mention the number of monsters or bandits in the terrain. None of them were experienced rangers, none knew the dangers of freezing temperatures and how to work around them.
She really should’ve given them a bigger crash course on outdoor survival. Plus, SandraLynn was sure the only people listening to her pep talk were Adaine and Riz, maybe Gorgug, but he fell asleep halfway through.
Why couldn’t they have just hired her as another hireling, just like they did in sophomore year? SandraLynn would have gladly taken time off to go on one more adventure with her kids and the boys. With an experienced ranger like herself by their side, it could be easier.
But, gods, were those children hellbent on solving this one on their own.
So what if SandraLynn packed a few extra healing potions in Fig’s bag out of slight paranoia? Or stuffed an extra coil of rope in Adaine’s? Or even two more of those emergency blankets in Kristen’s?
What the kids didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
Baxter tugged on the reins once the ranger station came into view. A simple “Hup!” and a small tug, and the griffin was already speeding down to the landing point, which was truly just an open piece of land by the building.
The practiced landing was like second nature to both of them. Baxter made his usual celebratory squawk with a flap of his wings, kicking up snow while SandraLynn climbed off. A small pat to the animal’s beak as her thanks.
Countless griffins, a few sled dogs taking a rest, a horse or two as well, made for the climate. It wasn’t until SandraLynn finally reached inside the building did she finally relaxed. Warmth flowed into her from the building's AC unit.
Snow tracked inside from her boots and from the countless others coming and going. The front desk was occupied by a familiar face.
“Miss Faeth!” A cheerful voice called out before she could get a word in.
“Hello Cameron,” SandraLynn shook off the stray snowflakes on her shoulders and clothing. Walking up to the front desk with a tired smile.
“What brings you in today?” Cameron asked. A blue-skinned tiefling with curled horns, similar to a goat, dark brown hair chopped into a pixie cut. Glasses perched on their crooked nose, a winter jacket with a ranger symbol on their left breast pocket.
“Still asking me that?” SandraLynn exhaled while she pulled the cloak’s hood off.
“Mhm, I can never be too sure, Miss Faeth,” Cameron shrugged. “Plus, I get dozens of rangers coming by every day. I don't remember everyone’s reason for stopping here.”
“Don’t you have an entire section of paperwork tracking passing by rangers?”
Cameron’s shoulders drooped, and a small twitch in their ears was an obvious tell to an upcoming lie. “...Well, it’s not like I fill out that type of paperwork–”
SandraLynn raised an eyebrow. “It’s quite literally in your job description, Cameron–”
They waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the conversation. “Alright, don’t judge just–what is it that you need, SandraLynn? I don’t have all day and–”
Words were muffled over the sudden cacophony of squawking, orders being yelled over one another, and the screams of “help!” from outside.
SandraLynn was already rushing outside, not bothering to pull up her cloak. To her left, snow kicked up from the chaos, a griffin with its rider atop of it being an pale elf, red flushed on their face from the cold blasting onto their skin from the high sky.
The continuous yells of help weren't coming from him. He was yelling orders that were going in one ear and out of the other for SandraLynn because the next sight sent her spiraling.
An ice genasi man being pulled by sled dogs was right next to them. His white snow garb blended in with his blue skin and a small pendant with the symbol of Ruvina dangling from his neck.
In his arms was the worst possible thing SandraLynn could be witnessing.
Adaine was barely recognizable.
At first, the blood covering her seemed like she swam in a pool of it. Tainting her hair, clothes, the blanket that wrapped her but came loose from being carried, and her skin. Already drying by the flakes of it sticking to her. Her denim jacket was enveloped in cuts and tears, even more of the liquid pooling onto the wrapped bandages—oh god.
The Sword of Sight was missing, Boggy was missing, where the fuck were the other kids? Fig and Kristen? Fabian, Gorgug, and Riz? If this had happened to Adaine what about the others? And—
The ice genasi man twisted Adaine in his grasp, and two other rangers surrounded him. Oh, god, where…where was her right arm from the elbow down?
SandraLynn gagged, bile already threatening to push through her throat at the sight of Adaine. Bones broken through skin in her chest poking her shirt, the rest of her amputated arm was wrapped in bandages, yet still soaked with blood.
Her other hand, her remaining hand, the fingertips weren’t a pale color but were red with blisters forming, the red slowly turning white. The same occurrence was happening to the tips of her pointed ears, her nose, and her cheeks, but most spots didn’t have blisters yet. Frostbite no bet.
Adaine’s skin was unnaturally paler than ever before. SandraLynn would’ve guessed she was dead if it weren’t for her ragged breathing, blood spurting from her mouth. With each blood-filled, gurgling cough. the mist coming from her mouth. The hot breath contrasts with the cold air.
“–treatment!” The words suddenly shot into SandraLynn’s consciousness. The ice genasi man was lifting Adaine onto a stretcher carried by two other rangers.
“Adaine!” SandraLynn yelled, her feet moving without a second thought right to Adaine’s side.
A trembling hand cupped her face (was she always so cold?) while her body was lifted by the stretcher and the rangers.
“Adaine?” SandraLynn tried calling out to the teen once more. No response back, not Adaine’s “Yes, Miss Faeth?” back in freshman year, not her simple yes and hums for an answer when she finally was comfortable to stop calling her “Miss”.
Nothing but the blood-filled coughs and the shaking body answered back.
“Do you know her?” SandraLynn looked back, the ice genasi man and the elven, the one from the griffin, looking back at her.
“My ki–She’s my daughter’s friend, Adaine Abernant,” SandraLynn’s voice was more unstable than she would’ve liked it to be in front of strangers.
“We’re taking her to the emergency teleportation pad, back to Elmville to get her proper care.”
Ayda’s teleportation spell was truly a godsend. Kristen recognized St. Owen’s Memorial Hospital from anywhere.
“I’ll be heading back to the Mountains of Chaos to help the boys find the artifact,” Ayda’s voice was muffled in her ears. All Kristen could do was stare down the entrance doors a few feet in front of her.
Heart pounding, her chest, her hands still cold, covered in snow and slightly bleeding from clawing at ice and snow. The sudden contrast between the cold temperatures of the Mountains and Ice trenches and the warmth of spring in Elmville almost sent her into a mini-shock.
“Tell them that we’ll try to send updates about Adaine?” Fig asked. Kristen passively noticed the shaking in her words.
Ayda nodded, “I can use Sending, or you can call upon me with the feather once more, my darling paramore.”
Fig smiled, barely concealing the growing fear. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed Ayda once more before the phoenix disappeared with a swirling storm of fire from the Teleport spell.
She didn’t bother to see if the tiefling was following her before she sprinted to the doors. The stinging smell of medicine and the sterile rooms burned her sense of smell already. It was never a good sign to visit hospitals in Kristen’s view. She was a cleric, for goodness’ sake; there was no reason to be here unless something was desperately wrong. (Or when she wasn’t good enough to heal someone.)
Kristen walked up to the front desk, trembling hands clasping with each other as she cleared her throat. “Um, hello?”
A gnomish woman, brunette with glasses and blue scrubs, looked up at her. “Hello? Can I help you with something?”
Fig nearly crashed into the desk while she came to a skidding stop right beside Kristen. “Hi! Fig, Fig Faeth, I’m here to visit my friend?” Fig’s words were smooth, charismatic, like always. Like she wasn’t crying and blaming herself for Adaine’s situation mere minutes ago.
“Name?” The gnomish woman looks between both girls with a curious gaze. More importantly, she was looking at Kristen’s bleeding hands. “And, are you both okay?”
Kristen shoved her hands behind her back, a weak excuse of a smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, just came back from our spring break–can you just find our friend, please?”
She raised her eyebrow, glancing at Fig and taking her in full by looking up and down. Before turning back to the monitor right in front of her.
Fig’s chest was rising and falling, too quickly. Red eyes frantically looking everywhere with the tremble in her tightly gripped fists.
Kristen could easily recognize the early signs of a panic attack; it wasn’t just Adaine who got them. Riz was runner-up right behind her, mostly because of their junior year. The countless amounts of Calm Emotions and the number of times she needed to help the detective were astonishing.
“Hey,” Kristen whispered, ignoring her own racing heart. “It’s gonna be fine, at least we know she’s safe, right?” A freckled, calloused hand grabbed Fig’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze.
Fig took in a deep breath, her frenzied eyes finally landing on one thing. Kristen. “Right, yeah, no, Adaine’s fine, I’m not worried. Just…” Fig didn’t finish her sentence, only glancing away when the receptionist cleared her throat.
“She’s in the PACU, or post-anesthesia care unit–”
“Great thanks!” Fig grabbed Kristen’s wrist.
“Wait, we don’t–”
“We’ll find out on the way, Kristen!”
She was dragged before she could protest anymore. Fig’s tight grip and her speeding pace made Kristen trip on her own two feet multiple times. Cursed dexterity.
Kristen didn’t even know where the PACU or Adaine was. The only reason Fig would know where the unit was is because freshman year with her…thing, with Dr. Asha, to Kristen’s guess.
Also, by the handful of people screaming at them for running or something about access, they definitely skipped going through some process to even be here in the first place. Wouldn’t be the first time they were trespassing, however.
Fig came to a skidding stop in front of a hallway. Kristen was too turned around by how fast Fig was going and too distracted from focusing not to trip to realize where they were.
“–ould be here,” Fig mumbled under her breath, still gripping Kristen.
“Slow down?” Kristen asked, barely avoiding crashing into a wall when Fig stopped.
Finally letting go, Fig jogged into the hallway, glancing to her left and right repeatedly. Kristen groaned, quickly following after the other.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Kristen finally took in their surroundings. To both sides were hospital rooms, people in beds. One elvish woman was attached to an intricate ventilation system, and an earth genasi man was surrounded by “Get Well” balloons and gifts.
The cleric didn’t realize until she crashed into Fig’s back with a thud that the bard stopped in her tracks.
“Dude, are you–” Kristen grumbled before she turned her gaze to Fig’s who wasn’t looking back. Instead, her eyes fixated on the room to their left.
Even with the astonishing amount of bandages, blankets wrapped around her hands and feet, in a hospital gown. Kristen could recognize Adaine from a mile away.
A stunned silence filled both of them. Kristen’s feet were stuck in place while Fig wasted no time. She ran into the room, bursting through the door as the other remained still.
Kristen couldn’t move. Why couldn’t she move her feet and rush to Adaine’s side just like Fig was currently doing?
Her heart hammered in her chest. Adaine looked horrible for a better word. Red was seeping through the bandages already, most hidden under the gown or the blankets. Which Kristen could guess was for hypothermia or frostbite. Even more equipment attached to her and–
Adaine’s missing arm. Right, fuck.
Subconsciously, a Cure Wounds gathered between her fingertips. (The same hands and fingers that weren’t strong enough to hold Fig up, weren’t strong enough for Adaine, a part of her mind reminds her)
“Kristen?” Cassandra’s voice felt like a warm blanket over her still freezing body from the Mountains.
A spectral hand from the Ethereal plane held her hand, another one, this time warm like the sunshine warmth of dawn, placed on her shoulder. No bet needed to know it was Cassandra and Ankarna.
“Yeah?” Kristen weakly mumbled. Her stare fixed on Adaine through the glass.
“Your friend?”
“Right! Right, Adaine,” Kristen finally snapped out of it. Adaine needed healing. Kristen was more than willing.
Kristen rushed into the hospital room. Already running up to Adaine’s other bedside.
Fig’s palms were glowing with Ankarna’s radiance. Lay on Hands at the highest level Fig had. That frantic look in her eyes came back as she looked at Kristen.“She isn’t waking up. Why isn’t she awake? It’s the day, she doesn't even sleep, she trances–”
“Dude,” Kristen cut off the spiraling questions from her friend. “That woman said this was the post-anesthesia care thingy or whatever. Anesthesia, remember? Means she was in surgery, she’s supposed to rest.”
Fig still placed her hands on the bandaged arm of Adaine. A small prayer playing on Fig’s lips released the Lay on Hands, the divine energy of the goddess spreading throughout Adaine’s body.
Adaine was going to be fine. Kristen placed her hand on Adaine’s side. The other cupped Adaine’s cheek (was she always so cold?). A small chant under her breath released a high-level Cure Wounds and a Greater Restoration.
Kristen waited, her eyes locked onto Adaine’s closed ones. She had to wake up now, right? Or maybe Kristen needed to be better. Another high-level Cure Wounds reached her palms and–
Her gaze snapped to the door once it clicked open. SandraLynn, Jawbone, Aelwyn, Ragh, Lydia, and Tracker poured into the room with another unfamiliar face behind them. A dragonborn woman with a white coat, with beautiful green scales that changed in hues by the light of the room. Glasses sitting on her snout with a look Kristen couldn’t decipher.
If this had been any other time, any other situation, Kristen wouldn’t have hesitated to throw herself into the arms of her family. It’s barely been a week of being on spring break, yet with Adaine's condition, Kristen didn’t have the energy.
Both pairs of hands immediately shot off Adaine’s still body. As the doctor gave a half-hearted glare at them. The dragonborn woman cleared her throat. A clipboard tucked underneath her arm that Kristen could barely make out Adaine’s name at the top of the sheet.
“My name is Dr. Vilo, as I’ve told Miss Abernant and Mr. O’Shaughnessey earlier–”
“Is Adaine going to be okay?” Fig didn’t even wait for the woman to finish her sentence before speaking.
Dr. Vilo took in a deep breath, and for a split moment, Kristen was ready for the worst. Adaine’s condition worsened, and nobody was able to help her; her wounds would slowly erode her until she died.
“The surgery went fine, there were a few complications that we didn’t expect. The broken ribs were set back in place, and for her lungs, the punctures weren’t life-threatening with how much the rangers helped her earlier. Adaine may be put on air ventilation, but only if her lungs worsen, which is unlikely.”
“What about her skull?” Aelwyn cut in before there was even a moment of respite. “Someone said something about it being broken, yes?”
Dr. Vilo pushed up her glasses. “Blunt force trauma, yes, but the damage is nothing Adaine can’t heal by herself with rest and carefulness. Along with the hypothermia and frostbite, over time, it will heal along with the rest of her fractures.”
“However, it’s the blunt force that sends us into the next problem–”
“You just said her skull was fine,” Aelwyn snapped, clear frustration building up.
“The skull is fine, her brain and nerves in her brain are the problem.” Dr. Vilo glanced towards Adaine, the same look mere moments earlier. Kristen could finally see what it truly was. Barely hidden fear.
“It’s referred to as Diffuse Axonal Injury or DAI, it’s a TBI, a traumatic brain injury. Adaine’s blunt force trauma to the head causes her brain to rapidly shift inside her head, which causes tears in nerve fibers,” Dr Vilo took another breath in. “What I am saying, Adaine is in a coma–”
“How long?” Fig cut in once more. “I-Is it just a coma, or did it cause more problems? What about memory?” Her voice breaking with each word, “Will she–”
“Fig,” SandraLynn put a hand on her shoulder. The woman suddenly appeared at her side. A stern look that sent the tiefling into silence.
“We ran a CT and MRI scans for her nervous system. Everything seems fine and in order, besides the torn nerve fibers that caused the DAI in the first place. It’s, quite frankly, a miracle that nothing else is torn or damaged with the blunt force she had to the back of the head.”
“What about the coma? How long?” Tracker finally spoke up.
“Most don’t last long, but in Adaine’s case, with the amount of torn nerves, there’s an estimate of at least a few days, at best a few weeks.”
Dr. Vilo looked at Kristen, then to Tracker, then to Adaine’s body. Almost as if she sensed something. A small sigh escaped her lips. “I don’t recommend using any healing spells on Adaine.”
Kristen was immediately questioning, “What? Why? I-I could help her–”
“Kristen–”
SandraLynn was cut off by Kristen, “No! I can heal her, and you want me to stand by–”
“Healing spells quicken the process, which means if anything were wrong with Adaine, like her lungs failing or her nervous system breaking down more from the tears, we won’t notice because the healing spells don't account for that,” Dr. Vilo raised her voice, silencing Kristen.
She took in a deep breath, trying to regain control. “Healing spells repair flesh and muscle quickly enough for someone to get back up. Bones can reconnect incorrectly, and the nerves in her brain are delicate. They need time to repair, and time is the only thing that we can do for now.”
Kristen was sure that the doctor kept on talking, but all she could do was drift her gaze to Adaine lying in the bed.
“–risten?” Jawbone’s gruff voice suddenly knocked her out of the trance.
Kristen cleared her throat, looking around the room. Dr. Vilo was gone, and Aelwyn had pulled up a chair near Adaine’s bedside, by her legs. Finally resting her legs after probably refusing to sit down for so long to as she had a slight tremble in her limbs. Kristen can only imagine the flare-ups that will happen tomorrow for the older sister.
Jawbone had a hand on her shoulder again, Fig leaning on SandraLynn with watering eyes. Tracker and Ragh were gone, but Kristen couldn’t bother finding out why.
“I’m fine,” Kristen mumbled, looking up at the werewolf. She tried her hardest to push the tears slowly gathering in her eyes, except she was never the best at hiding her emotions.
Jawbone wrapped his arm around Kristen, a weak smile playing on his lips. He was trying to be strong in front of her, yet just like Kristen and Fig, he was failing. His voice was slowly breaking, with tear stains already on his fur.
Who could be while their adopted daughter was lying in a hospital bed, stuck in a coma for who knows how long?
With the doctor gone, the silence was tense, uncomfortably unfamiliar from her usual noisy life.
Kristen’s ears could pick up on the trembling breath of Fig right next to her. The bard desperately tried to hold in the obvious tears as she avoided looking at anyone, especially Adaine’s body.
It was…strange. Seeing Adaine in her current state. It wasn’t unusual to see her hurt, no, it wasn’t that. It was seeing Adaine hurt and being able to do nothing strange.
The hospital gown, the oxygen mask over her mouth, the IV line in her only arm, her disheveled hair that still had the tint of red from the blood. Bandages covering her in almost every inch of skin that Kristen could see. Blankets wrapped around her hands and feet that were a different, more red shade than her usual pale color.
Kristen was a cleric for Cassandra’s sake. A Saint, self-resurrected herself, died twice, and lived. Yet as she looked at Adaine, her best friend of nearly four years, one of the first people she bonded with because of their shitty biological parents, she found a home with.
She was helpless. The countless amounts of Greater or Lesser Restorations, Cure Wounds, or any other healing spell that would’ve otherwise brought Adaine back on her feet did nothing.
The room was filled not by the boisterous voice of Fig or Adaine’s remarks on being careful, while she already had a smile on her face.
Instead, the beeping of Adaine’s heart rate monitor filled the room. Fig’s barely audible trembling breaths, and the muffled chatter of people outside.
Doubt filled Kristen like an overflowing bucket, and not the good kind that she worshipped her goddess for. Why wasn’t she strong enough? Why is Adaine so hurt, and yet she can’t do anything but stand by? Watch as her best friend slowly recovers as if time itself were in slow motion.