After their decisive victory over Orinovo, Lys-Akkaria's army crosses the border to take back territory that used to be theirs. With the combined forces of a lightweaver and shadowforger, Orinovo doesn't stand a chance.
In spite of their newfound a...
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Ainreth woke up with a groan. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten here, but the searing pain radiating from his back reminded him very quickly.
He'd gotten a public lashing for attacking Varilik. By Varilik. And Fenn.... Oh, sun, this was such a mess.
Ainreth hisses as he pulled himself to sit on the bed he'd passed out on. Petre and the other war protestors had brought him here afterward. He remembered as much. He remembered turning himself invisible just to escape the eyes of the crowd that had come to watch him get his punishment, but Petre had easily found him and dragged him away anyway.
And he'd blacked out afterward. Or at least he didn't really remember anything.
"Hey, easy. Don't move so much."
Ainreth blinked, focusing on the person standing by the bed, only to lock eyes with Petre. Of course it was Petre.
"Hey."
Petre sighed, very gingerly hugging him. "We cleaned and bandaged the wounds, but it will take a while for them to heal, even with my tonics."
Petre then proceeded to push a vial of said tonic into Ainreth's hands.
"Speaking of."
Ainreth sighed and obediently drank it, grimacing at how sour it was. "Why are these always disgusting? Can't you put some sugar in it, or something?"
Petre sighed, but Ainreth wasn't fooled. They were relieved that he was well enough to complain like this. He could see it in their shoulders, now much less tense than before.
"No, actually. If you want to heal faster, you have to suffer."
Ainreth huffed a laugh. "Typical."
Petre hugged him again, Ainreth embracing them right back. He took a deep breath. He was sure that Petre would soon berate him for his foolish action that had put him in that situation to begin with, but for now it was nice.
"Sun, that was awful," said Petre after a while, letting go and sitting down next to Ain. They ran a hand over their eyes.
"Sorry you had to see that, little guy."
Petre shook their head. Ainreth attempted a comforting smile. "I'll be good as new soon, don't you worry."
"Ain," Petre started but immediately stopped and shook their head. "Why did you do it?"
Ainreth sighed then, rubbing his eyes. "I just...I saw them. Together. And then that misborn started apologizing about giving Fenn bruises. I just...I lost it. I couldn't handle hearing about him hurting Fenn like that."
Petre nodded as they listened, putting a hand on Ainreth's shoulder.
Ain groaned, running his hands through his hair. "I'm an idiot. Sorry about that. But I guess you knew that already."
