The Cartographer's Heart

Chapter 5: Final Remedy

The campsite was quiet, a rare moment of calm as the group took the chance to breathe, mend, and reflect. The toll of the trials had left everyone exhausted—mentally, physically, and spiritually. Even those who hadn't been directly involved in the last battle felt the weight of their collective burden.

Chayde moved from one campfire to the next, checking wounds, applying salves, and quietly reassuring the others. His presence was steady and comforting, a reminder of stability amidst the chaos. He sat next to Syon, his hands glowing faintly with Aetherveil energy as he patched up a small tear on Syon's shoulder.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice gentle, more to distract than to really inquire.

Syon grunted but didn't pull away. "Nothing compared to what it was. Thanks."

Chayde chuckled softly, the lines around his eyes softening. "Well, someone's got to keep you patched up. You're like a walking disaster."

Syon managed a faint smirk. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you enjoy it."

Chayde shrugged, pulling out a fresh strip of cloth. "It's a calling, I suppose. But don't push your luck—I'm not immortal."

The others watched him work, grateful for the reprieve. Andrik glanced over from where he was organizing supplies, catching Chayde's eye and nodding approvingly. Even Jestin, usually the first to crack a joke, remained unusually quiet, simply watching Chayde move between the wounded with practiced precision.

Kai raised an eyebrow, observing as Chayde moved on to check Geralt's arm. "You really never miss anyone, do you?"

Chayde shrugged. "I try to keep track. We're only as strong as the weakest link, after all." He tightened a bandage around Geralt's wrist and patted his shoulder. "You're good to go. Just... avoid any more close calls, alright?"

Meanwhile, deep within the shadows of the jungle, Jorlin and Josharis stood together, an eerie mist swirling around them. Jorlin leaned against a twisted tree, his crimson eyes glinting as he watched Josharis with curiosity.

Josharis's form wavered, his features shifting subtly in the dim light, yet his eyes gleamed with intent. "There's something festering within them," he murmured, his voice soft and sinister, as if he were savoring every word. "A darkness buried deep in their midst... ripe for corruption."

Jorlin arched an eyebrow. "Is that so? I thought you were all about breaking them down from the outside."

Josharis's smile stretched wide, almost mocking. "Oh, we tried. But some creatures don't break from the outside. No... some are stronger when they're together. To shatter this group, we must rot them from within."

A wicked grin curved across Jorlin's face as he caught on. "Ah... so you're proposing we use one of their own?"

"Precisely," Josharis whispered, his tone laced with malice. "They are already fractured, weary. All it takes is a little push... and their foundation will crumble."

Jorlin's eyes gleamed as he turned his gaze toward the faint glow of the campfire in the distance. "Well then... let's give them that push."

Back at the camp, Geralt had settled Lian's unconscious form beneath a tree, his limbs still bound with vines. As the moon light filtered through the trees, a faint stirring came from Lian. He groaned, his eyes fluttering open, blinking in confusion as he looked around.

Geralt noticed immediately, raising his voice to alert the others. "Hey! Sleeping Beauty's awake!"

The group turned to see Lian finally coming to, his gaze hazy but gradually sharpening as he took in his surroundings. Geralt crossed his arms, giving him an unimpressed look. "You sure picked a convenient time to sleep through the chaos."