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After getting over the fact that your bedsheets and blankets were being stained by someone else's blood you finally decided to play your role of healer and actually start taking care of the man on the brink of death.
If he ended up dead you were going to set the bed on fire and cry at the waste of time and energy.
You were now invested to make sure he didn't end up dying. The first step was to go and gets some fresh water and boil it up nicely so you did just that. You got a clean rag from the wardrobe and you just let it soak in the warm water. From there you began to strip him of his gross clothes, you paused for a brief second and wondered if they were salvageable.
They were not.
You open the door and throw the clothes outside and set them on fire, you would buy him new ones later when you went to the market in town to go buy your own new clothes. Just as you're about to enter the house again a flabbergasted voice disturbs you.
"Did you just burn his clothes?!" It was the humongous lizard that lazed in front of your house that had asked.
"Yeah?" You raise a brow in confusion.
"Why? Now there's a naked huuuman man inside your home!"
"His clothes were dirty." You shrug not at all worried.
"But you have that specific spell you spent a good fifteen years mastering to specifically get stains out of fabric!"
"That's a very specific number..." You vaguely remember that time and put your fist in your palm in an ah hah moment. "Oh yeah! I remember that. Sweet, looks like I won't have to go buy new blankets. Thanks for the reminder, Ruhi."
"How are you a great mage? We are so doomed." They shake their head in disappointment.
"Love you too my scaly friend." Your hands form a heart shape. "Now I gotta get back to my patient...if he's still alive."
Although you say that you are in no hurry. You enter the house and find his chest moving up and down showing that he hadn't died in the amount of time it took you to do everything. You grab the rag out of the basin and begin to scrub him down.
Underneath all the blood and gore, you find new and old scars decorating his well built body. You grumble at all the work you'll be doing. You squeeze the blood out of the rag and into a bucket to kinda keep the water in the basin as clean as you can. You continue rubbing the rag along his bloody body, moving down to his left bleeding leg to find another wound that is along his thigh.
Perhaps he didn't get a cramp after all.
You remember his leg giving out on him and in the moment had sarcastically commented that as you watched him fight for his life.
Finally done, you grab the herbal ingredients you need and your helpful mortar and pestle and get to work on making a decent amount of medicine to dress his open wounds. Good thing they're not too deep. Then you dip a wooden spoon into the glump and start slapping it onto his wounds.
When you are about to do the same to one of the wounds on his chest your nose picks up a funky smell. No the skin hasn't started to rot or whatever. You quickly realize one of the monsters had poisoned him and let out a scream of frustration.
You are back at your work table flipping through your book to find the recipe you need to create an antidote. Moments like this make you wish you had an affinity for light magic which would allow you to learn some healing magic. You find it in a matter of seconds and ta da you are done. You part his lips and force feed him the antidote that will increase his resistance to the effects and continue your work for a few more minutes.
You let out an exhausted sigh and flop into a chair you had pulled up next to his bed after covering him up with the thick blankets, that you had used your cleaning spell so he wasn't in his own blood. You send a flicker of blue flames into the fireplace and finally relax into the chair.
Your eyes linger towards the recovering man.
"Ebony hair and ruby jeweled eyes." You tap your fingers against your thigh as you ponder out loud. "Did we know someone with these same features before?"
"He's probably one of the brats belonging to one of the four families." You look over to your right where the window is and see crystal blue eyes peering at you.
"Who were they again?" You tilt your head back and see your boring ceiling. After three hundred plus years of living, the harder it is to retain memories of events and people you have met in your earlier years when you weren't so closed off to people.
"Do you remember being put into that hero company when the world was in crisis?" You nod your head. "How about during the journey to defeat the Demon King—"
"Such a stupid and overused name." You can't help but interrupt at the cliche name given to the creature deemed evil by ignorant humans.
"—When that sadistic assassin heir to the Agriche family proposed to you by gifting you the head of one of the people calling you a traitor and throwing rocks at you saying that it was his way of courting you or showing his twisted devotion to you or something along those lines?" Ruhi easily continues their sentence being used to your interruptions when you have something to say.
During your human life you had been a powerful Saintess full of life and a burning sense of justice for the innocent and wronged. At the time the world had entered the prophesied dark time where demons were once again sent into the world by the Demon King who commanded them for some reason. The Empire had put together a team of hero's, those being the four families and of course you with your devastating divine abilities meant exactly against the darkness.
Being the powerful woman you were, the Agriche's name who you still can't recall, had been enchanted by you. You were complete opposites, you being the light who protected people and him being the dark truth that did the dirty job that no one else wanted. The young Agriche had been smitten and wanted to be embraced by your kindness.
For one reason or another you had not been attracted to him or maybe you were but you had rejected his confession nonetheless. There's a lot about your past you still don't remember but every few generations you end up meeting one of the men/women of the Agriche bloodline who would fight their way up the mountain to claim your heart.
Your eyes widen in horror.
"That guy?! An Agriche?! Am I cursed to always meet a freaking Agriche?!"
