Stars & Night

[Camp]

Xiaden's tent was...fitting for his status. Various furs lined the walls, making the space feel cozy even though it looked like it could sleep at least twenty men. A wooden desk sat in one corner, papers and parchment strewn atop it in an organized mess. In the sleeping area a small fire crackled, lighting the entire tent in a soft glow, and providing a layer of warmth over the bed lined with pelts of dark fur and other plush blankets. I imagined all the snide comments I might have made to him about the excessive luxury of his tent, were we here together under any other circumstances.

I had only left him momentarily to wash up. The healer wouldn't let me step close to his open wounds with all of the dirt and sweat that had covered my body. The light from the flames danced across the sharp angles of his face as he laid on his bed unconscious, right where I'd left him. I sat by his side, noticing how his bare chest rose and fell in even motions. His wings were tucked lazily behind him, framing his body with an almost menacing aura that sharply contrasted the peacefulness of his face.

The healer said his injuries were substantial, but he would make it. Still, I wanted to be there when he opened his eyes so I could remind him that my life debt was paid. And that his life had been saved by someone as fragile as me.

The images of the wyvern rider flashed in my mind, and a sudden chill fell over the room. I plopped a few extra pieces of wood onto the fire.

The wyvern rider had feared my powers. It had an army of wyvern it could have used to destroy me and everyone else at the camp today, but it had retreated after seeing my starlight. Is this what the old woman, Sahnad's leader, had intended me for? Or was it just a coincidence?

A wave of anxiety went through me when I thought of the professor's books in my room. There had to be something in there that would give more insight into why the dark magik wildling feared my light.

Xiaden stirred, groaning softly, his eyes still shut tightly.

The healer had instructed me to check the bandages every hour, to see if he needed a new one, before she'd stuffed the gauze in my hands, and left to see to other wounded soldiers.

I looked up the clock lazily mounted above the desk and realized it had been almost an hour since the healer had left.

I huffed. How had I gotten delegated to nurse duty?

I carefully pulled down his blankets, revealing the swath of bandages wrapped around his ribs, where the wyvern had latched onto him. My body cringed at the memory of him in the wyvern's mouth. An image I wanted to wipe from my brain replayed over and over again in my mind. I reached out to touch him, to ground myself in the present. I traced the shadow markings that ran over him in intricate patterns with my fingers. I studied the muscles of his chest and his arms, which looked like a sculpture that had been chiseled by the Gods themselves.

The healer had stacked on so many bandages in her haste that it was hard to tell what wounds needed tending, or which did not.

I peeled back the bandages cautiously. Layer after layer, until finally I reached the last one.

But when I peeled them back, there were no more open wounds. Just dried blood flaking over his smooth skin, and light pink scars where the new skin had taken the place of the lacerations. I brushed my fingers over them, stunned by the speed at which he had healed.

His hand darted out, seizing my wrist, and I let out a yelp.

When I looked up at him, his eyes locked onto mine. Fire reflected in his eyes, conveying an intense emotion that I could not place.

"You're – You're–" I stuttered, unsure of how to find the words. I had rehearsed it a hundred times in my mind. My debt is paid. Turns out a fragile woman saved your life.