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A shimmering gold ankh, as tall and wide as a door, opens in the middle of the Tower of Fate’s living room. Doctor Fate steps through first, with Salem following only steps behind him.
“Sit down on the couch. I’ll look you over once I’ve locked away Ither’s Talisman,” Kent says, tilting his head back towards Salem. She slumps after him, looking like the picture of misery. A bruise darkens her green skin across most of her left cheek and a haphazard makeshift bandage covers a cut running from the top of her right shoulder down. He'll need to learn healing magic at some point, without the Tower heightening his powers.
Kent knows that the physical injuries aren’t really why she looks miserable though. In the year he’s been training her, it’s become obvious that she’s faced more than any child her age should. She’s a master at shrugging off injuries or hiding their seriousness. She could be bleeding out and still have that steely expression others would call arrogant.
No, the real damage had been from a spell that reached deep into her soul. It wasn’t unlike one that Wotan had used on Kent the first time they'd ever fought. He would recognize in her eyes the pain it causes, even if he hadn’t seen her writhing in pain not long ago.
If he’d known how powerful Vossal had become, he would’ve kept Salem at the Tower. The sorcerer wasn’t typically a serious threat. He pops up randomly with some harebrained scheme that doesn't take more than a few minutes to stop. Kent had assumed he would be good practice for Salem to work on her most recent spells.
Salem silently crawls onto the couch. Kent wants to patch her up immediately, but he can feel the power of the talisman thrumming in the air. Even with his hand curled around it, entrapping it in golden magic, it’s fighting. It needs to be secured immediately. If only Inza were here to sit with Salem, but she’s away visiting her grandparents.
(Oh, Inza will certainly have some choice words for him when she hears about this.)
“It won’t take more than a few minutes,” Kent promises. It’s only because he’s looking intently at her that he sees the quick eye roll. It’s the only response she gives him, but the petulant answer lifts his spirits. It would be more concerning if she wasn’t behaving like that.
In a flash of gold, he teleports to a hidden room within the Tower. With the Tower having no doors or windows, it's already nigh impossible to enter, but this room is hidden deep within its ever changing halls, defended by a multitude of spells and enter-able only by him. There aren't many artifacts within it yet, but he imagines that'll change as the years pass. And now Ither's Talisman is part of that collection.
Kent casts a few extra protection spells around the talisman to keep its magic contained before teleporting back to the living room, taking the helmet off as he steps forward. “See? That wasn’t long at all.” He’s taken only a single step when he stops.
Salem's head rests on the arm of the couch. Her arms are wrapped loosely around her stomach and her knees pulled up so she's curled in on herself. Her face is relaxed in sleep. For a moment, Kent marvels at how small she is. She's always seemed concernedly small for her age, but somehow she's even smaller now.
Kent steps closer and reaches out a hand, gently brushing hair away from her eyes. Even a year later, it sometimes feels like he and Inza have made little progress breaking down the walls around her. She's always on edge. Any sign of kindness or concern is met with side-eyes or squints or eye-rolls. Deflection and doubt, an assumption that it's all a lie.
He knows this is likely due to exhaustion and exhaustion alone, but a part of him clings to the hope that it means she's starting to relax here. That she feels safe around them.
The bruise will heal. The damage from the soul-spell can't be treated with medicine. He hovers his hand over the cut on her shoulder and concentrates hard. Sparks dance around the bandage before fading away. It'll be enough for the time being. When she wakes up, he'll patch it up more the old-fashioned way.
The couch can't be comfortable to sleep on, especially not with how she's positioned. Kent hesitates for a moment before carefully sliding his arms beneath her. He lifts her up and holds her close to his chest. She makes a soft noise and for a moment he worries he's woken her, but then she settles, head resting against his shoulder. He's struck again by how small she is. Too small, far too small to have been alone for so long with no one caring for her.
The bedrooms aren't far from the living room. Soon he's pushing his way into Salem's bedroom, careful not to jostle her too hard. With a flick of his head, the blankets pull away enough for him to lay her down. He tucks the blankets close around her and gently smooths her hair back.
When they'd taken Salem in, Kent hadn't realized how much she would worm her way into their hearts, even as she actively tried to do the opposite. It had simply seemed necessary. They couldn't leave her out on the streets and he couldn't leave her with her magic nearly out of control. Now it's impossible to picture their lives without her. He hopes Salem will feel similar, one day.
He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, Salem."
