Midnight Moon

Chapter 51 - Royal Blood

Neyerith cried out in pain and Tia screamed for her friend as the red light passed over them, feeling its heat on her face and blinking the echo of its brightness from her gaze. The moment it was gone, she dragged him closer to the cavern wall and rested his body on her lap.

"Why would you do that?" she stammered, feeling her hands shake as he groaned, his eyes struggling to open. "You should not... Oh Goddess..." Sword Brothers and Sisters had fallen by her side before; she had no desire to watch the light leave Neyerith's eyes in the same way. If he died for her sake, was she dutybound to add another tattoo to her collection?

He groaned again, cracking open one eye and twitching his lips into a weak smile. "I thought it was about time I did something noble." He coughed. "And at least I got to cuddle you."

Tia choked, turning away as tears prickled her eyes. Calu knelt beside her, his face pale. "Heal him," she demanded, though she knew the boy had no way to do so. "Help him, do something."

Calu shook his head, his expression stricken. "I... I don't know what to do... I don't even know what that spell did to him. Ren's power must be growing if he can cast something like that."

"You stupid man," Tia muttered, blinking rapidly as she slid her hands under Neyerith's back, feeling as gently as she could for the severity of the wound. Her fingers found blood and she swallowed a sob, rolling him slightly away from her and pulling his jacket back to look at the cut. "You stupid, stupid man."

"I've never seen you so eager to take my clothes off." Even his joviality was fading, his head lolling and the smile leaving his lips. "For old time's sake, maybe you could give me a kiss before I go."

"What?" she breathed, only half listening as she braced herself to inspect the damage. Her chest constricted and she dared to peer at his back. Blood glistened in the torchlight, a slash in his flesh matching the cut in his jacket.

She grimaced, scanning the injury. She had expected more blood, a deeper wound. It looked painful but shallow - certainly less dangerous than the injury he had received in their last battle.

Tia turned back to Neyerith's face and spotted him peeking through half-closed eyes which snapped shut as soon as he met her gaze. She sighed and rolled him flat again, far less gently than she had moved him before. He frowned and she threw her hands in the air. "You are not dying at all, you idiot."

"Shame," he groaned, opening his eyes fully and propping himself up on his elbow, "I think I would hurt less if I was dead."

As Calu sighed in relief, she made a noise of exasperation and stood, ignoring Neyerith's yelp as he slid to the floor. "I can rectify the situation."

Neyerith grimaced, twisting his shoulders as though testing the limits of his wound. "I haven't felt this bad since I turned 30. I drank four tankards of ale and too much gin to count. Woke up next to a woman whose arms were thicker than my neck; I couldn't walk for a week."

"That, is far too much information," Tia said, grimacing too as she offered him a hand and helped him to his feet.

"Are you alright?" Calu asked, rising as well.

Neyerith shrugged stiffly. "I've been better, but I'll live."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Tia muttered, retrieving her sword. After the paralysing fear she had felt for his safety, and the aching knowledge that he took the wound in lieu of her own injury or death, she couldn't quite bring herself to be angry with him. Not yet, anyway.

"What do we do now?" Calu glanced nervously towards the middle of the chamber as if checking whether the King had succeeded in his mission yet.

Tia shifted her grip on her sword, her fingers sticky with Neyerith's blood. She considered telling him to stay out of the battle, but knew he would never agree. She wouldn't, after all. "We keep fighting," she answered grimly.