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Thancred had been out training the newly awakened Warriors of Light in the Forest of the Lost Shepherd while Urianger studied more about the phenomenon itself and the connection with the meteors that rained down whenever one of Hydaelyn's chosen heard Her voice for the first time.
The twins were restless, and Ryne didn't like the idea of being left behind in the Crystarium so Evelynn Grace had been keeping them entertained by reading stories of heroes and their deeds. She had grabbed a handful of books depicting tales both fictional and true from the myriad shelves of the Cabinet of Curiosity and laid them out on a blanket under a tree, with cushions for each of the teenagers, as well as fruit and iced tea to sip on while the sun shone down just beyond their shaded little haven. It felt good to be able to look up at the sky and know that the vibrant, resplendent light would eventually give way to forgiving and cooling darkness each night.
Just as she was getting to an interesting part in the novel about a valiant King and his loyal knights, an alarum sounded, and guards rushed forward to meet whoever had sounded it.
Alisaie leapt to her feet, reaching for her rapier, only to find she had propped it against the trunk of the tree alongside Evelynn's staff, Alphinaud's magical tome and the twin daggers Ryne was skilled with. She quickly snatched it up and rushed forward, the others close behind her, their picnic abandoned as they reached the balcony and looked over to see Theyler ringing the alarum with haste, bloodied and panting from pain and exhaustion. Roughly fifty or so feet behind him, coming down the slope from Lakeland an equally battered Vonard with someone in his arms, someone who wore a long coat that was once white and decorated with a bandolier of aetheric cartridges. The coat was now slashed and stained with blood both human and sin eater, a thick viscous ooze, black and rancid in comparison to their pure white bodies and feathered wings. The bandolier hung empty, all the cartridges spent and useless. Evelynn's blood ran cold when she saw the limp form of Thancred cradled in the galdjent's arms as he limped toward the gates.
Her breath caught sharply in her throat, and Ryne's shrill cry of her father figure's name pierced the deafening silence and brought her back to reality. The twins were both immediate in their reaction, with Alphinaud barely stopping his sister from vaulting the balcony and dragging her the safer way.
As the four of them reached the gate, a team of chirurgeons were wheeling a set of simple cots up to the gates. Vonard let out a pained gasp as he placed the unconscious hyur onto the cot, it seemed he was masking the level of pain he was in in order to get his friends to safety.
Evelynn instinctively grabbed Ryne and held the girl to her chest to prevent her from rushing to Thancred's side, knowing they needed space to transport and treat him.
“What happened?! Thancred? Thancred speak to me!” The red haired girl cried, distraught at the sight, but no response came from him. She struggled but Evelynn's grip was firm, both her arms around her, keeping her close. She shushed softly. Resting her head on Ryne's as they wheeled the three injured men toward the infirmary.
“Let them work, they need to concentrate. But it's their job to fix people, he'll be okay.” The warrior-mage told her, hoping to convince at least one of them. With his aether having been permanently warped from his time stranded in the life stream, healing magicks weren't as potent on Thancred, and he would need old fashioned medical attention as well. Evelynn hoped the chirurgeons had the training for such but if not she knew some simple first aid.
After the four of them were alone once more, Evelynn loosened her grip on Ryne only for the teen to turn on the spot and tightly cling to her, hiding her face from the others. Evelynn softly stroked her hair and they remained silent for a while.
After a maddening thirty minutes, the twins made eye contact and then stood up. “I'm going to help them.” Alisaie said matter-of-factly, and Alphinaud seemed resolved to join her. Evelynn knew they hated standing around while there was something to be done. She nodded and got to her feet as well, helping Ryne off the ground where they'd returned to the stack of books, but storytime seemed so uninviting after what they witnessed. It was impossible to think of anything else.
They approached the infirmary cautiously, and inside they saw the three men on cots being tended to by very attentive and skilled healers, but while Theyler and Vonard only had one each, there were two attending to the unconscious gunbreaker. Ryne gasped and covered her mouth, but Evelynn slipped effortlessly into medic mode. She had learned a lot about directing healers and triage in the field, especially during the Dragonsong War and the attack in Ala Mhigo.
“Alisaie, help set Vonard's ribs. Ryne can you grab those sterile cloths and get some of the blood out of his eyes? Alphinaud–” She looked and saw the younger Leveilleur twin already assessing Theyler to see where his magic was needed. This left her to approach the two chirurgeons pouring their aether into Thancred. She took a slow, shaky breath and gently touched one of them on the shoulder.
“That will only do so much. His aether isn't like yours and mine, plus being separated from his true body makes the connection a little weak. May I?” She asked and the healer stepped aside to let her look over Thancred, who has started to come around slowly.
His injuries were intense, she felt a pit in her stomach just looking at him, laboured breathing, pale and a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead mixing with dried blood from what appeared to be a scrape of some kind. She leaned closer, brushing his blood matted hair out of the way. The edges were jagged but it was shallow and it wasn't bleeding currently. No indication of claw or tooth having caused this, and with the way his coat had torn along the shoulder she could imagine maybe he had taken a hard landing against the ground or something else rather hard. That wasn't too bad, she could move on to other more frightening injuries.
Thancred had opened his eyes by now, just as Evelynn was peeling the front of his tattered, blood soaked coat out of the way to inspect the layers beneath. He went to speak, to comment on her so boldly trying to remove his clothes but all that came out was a groan, as she pressed gently but firmly on the stomach to check if it would give.
“Sorry.” She whispered, but turned to the remaining healer. “Bruised for sure but doesn't seem to be bleeding inside, at least from what I can tell. Can you give him something for the pain?” The male elf nodded, and stepped aside to prepare a substance. The others had been given relief because they were awake and alert, while Thancred had been unconscious at first. Now though, he would need something.
Eve took a pair of shears from the instrument tray and cut his shirt from hem to collar in a fluid motion, so she could access the wounds on his chest and stomach. Mostly massive bruising but there was a deep cut on his side that had torn through both layers of fabric, leaving small fibers behind.
“Whoa, what are you-” he started to ask, but was interrupted by a cold voice telling him to “place this under your tongue, hold it there. Do not swallow.” The elf mage presented a disgusting looking wad of green and brown mush at him. He made a face like a child being told to eat their greens.
“Or I could stitch you up without numbing?” Evelynn asked, much different from her usual caring and warm demeanour. She reminded him of the woman he met many moons ago, who didn't wish to let anyone in, kept her guard up at all times. The Evelynn who called herself ‘Grace, no last name.’ And refused to make eye contact with him. Why now we're those walls back up, and so firmly, too?
He nodded, swallowing painfully before he let the healer place the foul poultice in his mouth. It had the added effect of keeping him quiet as it's rather hard to make sarcastic quips with something under one's tongue. He winced and flinched a few times as she stitched the slash across his side shut, and especially when she pressed more of that foul goop onto the closed wound. Ryne kept looking over every time he made a sound, but Alisaie did a good job of keeping her attention on the other two men.
Before long, the worst of their injuries were either healed with magic, or tended to and stopped from getting worse. Theyler and Vonard were permitted to take leave to their respective rooms at the Pendants, but Thancred was firmly told, “You stay.” When he attempted to sit up, making a prolonged groan in doing so.
“I'm fine, you should see the other guy.” He joked, clearly attempting to mask his discomfort, but he lay back down regardless. Evelynn was somewhat of a frightening force when she meant business.
She turned with a tired but kind smile as the other three were cleaning their hands and putting away equipment. “Why don't you take a rest, I'll come get you when Mister here is stable enough to tell his valiant tale.”
Ryne wanted to protest, to rush to Thancred's side and scold him for being careless, as that surely was the only explanation for how he could be defeated, but Alphinaud gently put an arm around her. “Come on, let's get you some rest. He'll be fine before you know it.”
Once the two of them were alone, Thancred looked to Evelynn, took the disgusting medicine out from under his tongue and asked, “Give it to me straight, doc. Am I gonna live?” With his usual joking tone. She shook her head and sat on a wheeled stool beside his cot.
“I didn't want the kids to hear this, but… you've got a condition, and it's terminal.” She said back with less enthusiastic playfulness, but only because the scare he gave her had drained her emotionally. The adrenaline had worn off and she felt heavy.
“Ive always had it, it's called being handsome. And talented. Y'know I might have a few conditions. You should run some tests.” He said, though his energy was clearly not returning easily. Now that his physical injuries were stabilised she could focus on his aether. Evelynn placed her hands close to him and began to channel white magic, focusing intently on finding his aetheric wavelength, which was wobblier than others, and not just from his time in the lifestream. It was like he wasn't really connecting with hers. That had to be because of the manner in which he was summoned to the first, right?
“I mean, it can't be fair that I was burdened with a beautiful face, gorgeous body, angelic singing voice and I can take down monsters and beasties with the best of ‘em. That's you, by the way.” He continued joking, clearly a little giddy from the effects of whatever concoction he'd been given. Evelynn had barely been listening, too busy trying to grasp ahold of his aether with her own. His voice droning on in the background was making her frustrated and he could see the sharp icy crystals starting to form along the backs of her hands like hoarfrost. He really should stop talking, but instead more words tumbled out of his mouth.
“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your magicks are? I mean the way your aether turns to ice like that it's almost crystalline, I could write a poem about it, really I could.”
Evelynn gritted her teeth. “Please be quiet.” She told him, screwing her eyes shut to try to visualise his life essence as a physical thing in her mind to try and help her yank it from wherever it was hiding.
“Why? It's a compliment, I mean we as a society see crystals and aetheryte as incredibly beautiful and useful, and you're beautiful and useful. And aetheryte ties back to Hydaelyn, and you're her champion, you're the warrior of light - and now darkness too I guess- and”
“Thancred. Shut up please.” She said again more firmly.
It seemed to cut through his drug induced goofiness for a second, and he blinked before smirking. “Make me, doctor.”
She took a slow, deep breath through her nose and removed her glasses, as she did so his eyes went wide. Was he in actual trouble? ‘Oh god, oh fuck, she's standing up is she going to hurt m-’
His spiraling train of thought was interrupted by the incredibly softness of her plush lips brushing against his, her nose lightly bumping his, her silky white fringe tickling his forehead. She had kissed him. Holy fuck she had kissed him.
And as quickly as it happened, it was over. Evelynn pulled back and sat back down, clearing her throat and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that hadn't made it into her hastily thrown back ponytail earlier. Her face flushed with colour, such a vivid red on her otherwise pale cheeks.
For a few blissful seconds, he was silent, and she couldn't finally find his aether. As she began to pour her magick into strengthening it, she saw the telltale lift at the corner of his mouth from her peripheral. Damnit.
“If that's all it took to get you to kiss me, I would have done this sooner.” He said. Evelynn's flush deepened and she suppressed a sound in her throat, something akin to an embarrassed whine.
“I know you said you'd come get me when he's stable but I-” Ryne's voice cut through the tension, and Evelynn looked between the teenage girl and Thancred with a panicked expression before quickly standing up and excusing herself.
“I think it would be good for you to take over, actually.” She told Ryne, with an awkward nod before making a swift exit.