Pawn, volume 1 of Different Worlds

4. Asked to leave

POV: Aisha

Not letting his back reach the floor, I catch Katril as fast as I can and—still confused by what had just happened—put him in the same chair from earlier before, covering him with a curtain I had stripped from the window previously.
I lean in to look at his wound and frown: it hadn't been over a minute and his hand has already completely healed, beating my record flatly.

What did he mean by he 'too was a chosen one'? And what was that earlier on, the thing with the blood and the plants and the falling unconscious to the ground?
I clench my jaws. This was not supposed to happen—answers from a painful and tortured soldier, yes, discovering that there might be a 'person' like me, a Chosen, no, not supposed to happen.

I lean forwards to look at him better, and realize how much he looks like a child. Such an innocent face for a person that had murdered three men a few seconds earlier—not that I am in the least impressed, I am just surprised. I never met anybody who would risk their life going up against the will of the Magnos empire. The only two reasonable reasons were that they were either dumb, or that they had a strange definition of heroism. It is always like that, really.

I hear him grunt slightly and take a step back of caution.

-Welcome back, 'Kalatril'. The name's Aisha, by the way, I mutter, putting one of my blue locks behind my fury ears.

He takes a few moments to assimilate what has happened and finally sighs heavily, his chest seemingly shaking with emotion.

-I am sorry that you had to see that Aisha—the thing that happened to those men I mean.

Ah. Apologies. Another trait of this so-called heroism, he didn't need to say he was sorry but he still did. Would it even change what did happened? No, it wouldn't.

-No need to apologize, just eat up your food.

-How warm and kind of you—

At that same moment, the door opens and I turn, surprised, although the feeling fades quickly as I see that it is just the guy from earlier on and not another soldier.
Is there a way that each time I start a conversation I am immediately interrupted?
I look at him. Theodor, if I remember? He stares at the ground with his little green emerald eyes and stands still, embarrassment evident.

-Yes?, I say, a bit nervous.

-We-Well, madam Green is asking for you, she is in her study.

All along his speech, the small elvlin keeps on looking down, as if the floor had become extremely interesting.

-Alright, you can go and inform her that I will arrive shortly. Is there anything else you need to tell me?

I see him hesitating, and as I think he's about to leave, he swiftly adds something.

-Thank you for before, thank you a lot, I wouldn't have made it out without your intervention, he says, raising his face that had turned a bit red and finally facing me head on.

I look at him with surprise in mind and nod in understanding.

-No need to thank me, I did what I had to do. I am glad I was of help, and I mean it, after all, my 'godlike' existence had kept on serving its purpose, it saved a life. Really, it's okay. You don't have to feel ashamed of having had a difficult moment and having had someone to help you. Just be careful next time around, will you?

He just nods and turns back towards the door.

-Hope to see you around, I add.

He nods yet again and scurries away right after opening the door.