Aftermath of battle – Part II

He watched the face tighten and the dry lips whimper.

                “I’m sorry Erdric,” Elysian murmured to the regent, for there was nothing that he could do to ease his pain.

                The minuets dragged on as they listened to his wet, labored breathing, struggling to keep pressure on his worst wounds.

                Nara, for her part, was gently cradling a shattered hand within hers, finger tips smoothing the unbroken skin she found.

                The three of them were literally jumping at shadows every time something happened.

                Erdric’s breath caught, stopping for a moment and frightening everyone.

                “Where is he?”

                “Xristis?”

                “Who else?” Elysian snapped.

                “Last I saw him, he was guarding the northern entrance so it shouldn’t take him long. He was treating Ashi for an arrow wound.”

                Cerith sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re not getting anywhere arguing. Let’s agree to disagree and leave it at that. He will be here soon and he will take care of the Regent.”

                Silence descended again, and once more they waited.

                The door slammed against the wall and they jumped, clearly startled as Xristis came, quite literally, running into the room. His armor was clanging, making such a ruckus that Nara nearly clawed him.

                “What’s goin’ on?” He panted. “Heard ‘Iric was hurt. True?”

                Nara walked around the bed and gently took Xristis’ shoulders. “Slow down for a sec. He seems alright for the moment, but we need you with a steady hand. You’re not to shake like that. So take the armor off right now.”

                Xristis tossed his helmet off, quite easily slipping out of his armor. With a strip of his shirt he tied back his hair, and rolled up his sleeves.

                “Well, what do you think the worst damage is?” He asked as he washed off his hands and made his way towards the bed.

                “Everywhere?” Cerith quarried in sarcasm.

                With a flick of his wrist, he pulled aside the sheets and gently untied the chest bandage.

                “Let’s start at the top and work our way down?” Xristis joked slightly. “What I need is clear alcohol, twine, a hook needle if at all possible, as well as salves and bandages.” Elysian took off running with his request, but before Xristis even took a look at the destroyed flesh, he washed his hands, cleaning them with Cerith’s vodka that he held within a flask at his hip.