ORACLE [BNHA fantasy au]

Chapter 12 - Cleric

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Something fluffy brushed against Izuku's face, stirring him from a fitful slumber.

He flinched as blinding sunlight pried at his eyes, hissing as his vision adjusted. His bloody, bandaged knuckles rubbed at his face, fingertips massaging the tension out of his temples. When he finally could keep his head on straight and the world stopped spinning, he pushed himself up onto his elbows.

A round red squirrel sat upon his chest.

Neither of them moved once eye contact was made, both too afraid of what could happen. Izuku breathed shallowly, and the squirrel's tail twitched as the tension built. Maybe if he–

"Chestnut! How impolite! Get off of our guest!"

A squeaky voice jolted them both into action. The squirrel dashed off, climbing down the bedpost and scrambling across the wooden floor, only to dash up the leg of the person in the doorway and settle upon their shoulder. Izuku had never seen someone like this before... perhaps a rare species of orc?

"Um... hi," they said, blushing as they brought a tray of food into the room. Their traditional yellow cleric robes swept the floor as they stepped further inside, setting the tray down at Izuku's bedside before moving to the closet to find proper clothing for the injured hero.

Thundering footsteps banged along the corridor, revealing a disheveled girl in pink cleric robes as she stopped in the open doorway. "He's awake?!" she screeched, chest heaving from exertion. Through her mussed brown hair, her eyes fell upon Izuku—sitting up in bed with bandages covering his chest from clavicle to navel—and blushed brightly, slapping her hands over her eyes. "G-g-good morning, Sir Deku! Glad to s-see you awake! Um, Koda's grabbing you some clothes, so just hang tight for a sec!"

Izuku glanced down at his nearly-bare chest, and heat spread through his cheeks. How long had he been without a shirt?! He desperately tried to cover himself with his hands, the blanket, anything. "I'm so sorry!"

Koda, the yellow-robed cleric, fished a spare loose shirt out from the closet, and brought it to Izuku, averting their eyes as they handed it over. "H-here you go, Sir."

"You don't have to call me that," Izuku said softly. Wincing as he lifted the shirt over his head, he managed to wiggle into the airy white shirt without too much exertion, but his ribs throbbed something fierce. "Where... are we?"

"Not far from the capital... We found you not far from the wreckage of that market that burned down," the girl explained, peeking through her fingers to see if he'd changed. "By Fargone?"

None of it rang a bell. "I don't know why I'd–" Izuku started, the space between his eyes pulsing with an inbound migraine and cutting him off with a sharp sting of pain.

"Don't push yourself!" Koda insisted. His massive fretting hands were outstretched and glowing already, casting some kind of golden healing magic over Izuku that spread slowly through him like honey and sunlight.

The pain in Izuku's ribs and forehead faded, still lingering but more achy. "Thank you," he murmured, resting his head in his hands. The room spun dangerously, tilting and listing until everything remained out of whack. Izuku hissed and shut his eyes, willing the vertigo to subside. "Why... why can't I remember?"

Koda and the girl exchanged a weighted look before she answered. "You, um, had a spinal injury when we found you," she said, avoiding eye contact with Izuku as she stared at the floor and wrung her hands. "And you'd lost a lot of blood from a cut on your forehead, so we kinda figured you bonked it at some point."

For a moment, Izuku thought he might throw up, so he said nothing. What had he been doing near Fargone? Why couldn't he remember anything?

"Are..." Koda started, glancing at the girl beside him, "Ochaco and I are curious... are you the ranger the King sent?"

Another peal of eye-watering pain lit Izuku's brain on fire, and he nodded despite it. He knew that much: he worked for the king.

Ochaco and Koda glanced at each other, sharing a weighted look.

"He's been looking everywhere for you, Sir Deku," Ochaco said softly, "Shall we let him know you're alive?"

Izuku reached over to his bedside table and drank the entire glass of water in one go. Afterwards, he laid back down in bed with closed eyes and sighed, "Yes... please."

"Well, good, because he's here."

He must have misheard her. Izuku squinted through the pain and managed, "You're joking."

"She's not."

Behind the clerics, King Toshinori emerged from the doorway (through which he had to duck his head) and stood before them in his finery, sword glowing faintly at his side, hilt wedged into his palm. He smiled sadly at his protegee. "Izuku."

"Your highness," Izuku said, scrambling to push himself up despite the full-body ache settling into his bones, "I– I'm sorry, I–"

The king merely raised his hand, effectively silencing the rant building up in Izuku's throat. "We need to talk. Alone," he said, voice low.

Understanding the implications, Ochaco and Koda fled the room without further instruction, well aware of the king's influence and power. Izuku swore he saw Chestnut give him an itty bitty thumbs-up as they left.

Toshinori took the seat from the desk and plopped it down at Izuku's bedside before taking a seat. "You passed your test, young Midoriya, in case you weren't sure," he said first.

"Thank you, sir," Izuku said. He kept his head bowed, staring at the sunbeam in his palm to keep himself from crying or fainting or anything embarrassing.

"Now, young Midoriya... it's time we talked about your future."

Izuku clenched his fist, sun pouring down upon his knuckles. "My future, sir?"

The king chuckled. "Any chance you want to be king?"

Overwhelming surprise flooded Izuku's weakened body, his eyes widening as he processed. Surely he wasn't serious? Him? Izuku Midoriya as the next king of The Land? "S-sir?" Izuku asked. He barely had time to look up at King Toshinori with incredulity before promptly passing out from a fresh wave of vertigo and shock.

"I shouldn't have said that," Toshinori sighed, easing Izuku back into bed before standing to take his leave. He raked his free hand through his blond hair, glancing back at Izuku and his limp form.

"Yeah, I definitely should not have said that."