Vaehandre: Where The Stars Fall [Under Revision]

Chapter 46: The Power of Allies

Fresh blood-soaked in her sleeves. The lifeless stare of the knight before her. She remembered him and she remembered him vividly as if three years hadn't passed. Will I see another Elite Knight fall, she thought. Forcing her eyes open, she looked at Aiden. He propped himself up with one hand, pressing his wounded arm to his side. Slowly, he brought one leg forward. Placing weight on that bended knee, he got back to his feet. The crowd grew silent as they watched the Lord of Rathorn stare down his challenger.

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Meanwhile, gallops could be heard in the infirmary. Henry made haste and carried Distira into the infirmary. Gytha was already at the entrance of the door.

"What happened?" the healer asked.

"She was ambushed. Shoulder wound."

The wounded Southern Mage flimsily straightened her legs. "I'm fine. This is nothing. You should be looking out for Lord Aiden—" Her head fell back on the pillow.

Gytha moved her shoulder. "Distira?" She looked at Henry. "How much blood did she lose?"

"I didn't take out the rest of the spear from her shoulder. She didn't lose much blood."

"She's lost consciousness. The point of the spearhead must have been laced with something. Who threw the spear, Henry?"

"Ursaignis but Rogue Assassins were there."

Gytha worriedly looked at Distira. She lifted her by the cheek and tried to rouse her. "Distira!" Her lips had started to turn blue. "Poison! it's fast-acting." Fumbling through the potions, each vial clinked against the others. "Bring her head up," she said to Henry. "Distira, I need you to take this okay." She brought the bottle to her lips and let her swallow the potion which she managed but barely.

A few seconds had passed.

"Well, is it working?" Henry asked, sincerely.

"It isn't enough!" Gytha brought her hand to her forehead in frustration. "The poison will stop her heart before the potion can do its work. We need a spell—an enchanted potion... Where's Ingrid?"

Henry cradled Distira in his arms. "Let's get her to the arena."

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Ingrid watched gnashing her teeth as Aiden dodged every strike. One more clumsily after the other, but Hesev had slowed a great deal as well. He would visibly be taking rest before each strike. She thought she heard her name coming from behind her. She didn't look back, not until a hand on her shoulder tore her away from her tormented state.

"Ingrid, it's Distira. She's been poisoned."

She recognized that Henry's worry for Distira shifted into worry for her.

"What's happened?" Henry asked.

"Aiden's been wounded."

Henry stepped in front of the crowd with his hand on the grip of his sword.

Aiden had tackled Hesev with his shoulder. The hunter was down and Aiden looked back at Henry. He shook his head bringing Henry to a halt.

Henry glanced at Ingrid who had followed him past the crowd. She kept shifting her glance from Aiden to the entrance of the stadium where Distira lay. Henry nodded at her and motioned to the entrance of the stadium.

Glancing one last time at Aiden, Ingrid headed toward her fellow mages.

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"Ingrid! Oh, Ingrid, she's barely breathing," Gytha said in a panicked voice as she held Distira close to her chest.

After glancing at the wound, Ingrid placed her hand on Distira's shoulder. She closed her eyes. "Argtum santuh dant hes." She shifted her hands in frustration then breathed out deeply. "Argtum santuh dant hes." Keeping her hand on her shoulder, Ingrid felt a part of her strength drain. She tilted her head slightly to ignore it. At the moment she thought she'd collapse, she heard a familiar voice.