ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇɪʟᴇᴅ ꜱᴇɴꜱᴇ

Chapter VIII: Peace or freedom?

Sylvia was constantly stressed out. It was the day after she had reached Agrela again with Arthur and convinced the elven soldiers that he would fight alongside them. Now the pirate was somewhere at the violent battle fields as well as Elena was. She had no way of knowing whether they were doing alright, injured or perhaps deceased. The healer could do nothing but meekly hope one or the other would turn up at her medic tent.

As for the job of a healer, it was exhausting. Long shifts with little to no breaks and seeing her people in pain and mutilated. All because of the selfish actions of queen Siora.

Sylvia was just finishing up her latest patient as another elf was rushed in. Aradove's eyes widened, the boy couldn't be older than 16. Her gaze filled up with great empathy and sadness, but anger as well. This is what the queen, who was supposed to protect and put her people first, was doing. The young soldier nearly fell to the ground as Sylvia caught him in her arms, carefully setting him down on a thin mattress. It was clear he had taken a significant amount of damage and it was nearly impossible to see where the boy was bleeding from as he was almost covered in the substance.

Sylvia hurried and began lightly wiping away the blood before locating a rather big wound on the elf's side. The boy was only staring up at the tent's ceiling with eyes drained from any light or emotion as Sylvia hovered her blood soaked hands over the wound, beginning to pray and put her remaining focus on the healing process.

In the end, her healing was successful, it always had been. As Sylvia left the boy resting she slumped down and sat. Although she was a known and powerful healer, she couldn't do it forever. She could feel all of her energy leaving her body and looked back at the young boy before glancing at the other injured elves. Everyone seemed like they had lost all hope already and Sylvia felt cornered. Was everything truly going to be okay?

Unpleasant and distressing thoughts swarmed Sylvia's mind in an instant as tears swelled up in her eyes, completely blurring her eyesight. She sat there for a while, quietly sobbing and zoning out into the thought of the elves losing the war. The elf had now seen many times how capable humankind is of hurting their species, she did not want to succumb to them. Sylvia stood up with the blood on her hands now dried and walked out, having and needing to take a break from her duty. She walked to a more secluded area and dropped to her knees, praying to Zymos.

"Almighty Zymos, please. I beg of you to hear my cries of help and keep my loved ones safe amidst this chaos. End our suffering, I cannot take it. Have we done something to upset you? I don't understand, why are we all in such pain? Take it away, please. Continue to protect us, for we are your children." she whispered into the ground between sniffles.

Sylvia stayed on her knees for a while, gathering the small amount of energy to get up and walk back to her station. She only stared into the woods and the peaceful nature as the sounds of shouting and cries filled her ears.

Sylvia got up and went around the tents, seeing if maybe, just maybe one of her relatives would've showed up in them. But it was all to no avail, it always was. Now disappointment joined the many emotions she was feeling and she began walking back to her tent and checking up on her patients. That is when the new, young boy grabbed the hem of her dress and looked up at her with those emotionless eyes. Sylvia sat down next to him.

"Do you know if my mom is here? She is a healer as well." he asked with a quiet, monotone voice. Sylvia tilted her head.

"What's your mother's name?"

"Adeline, Adeline Blyton. Please, tell me she's somewhere around here." he pleaded with a small hint of worry in his voice. Sylvia clenched her jaw and looked away before putting on a fake expression of compliance.