The Remnant

The Ties that Bind

If there was one thing Perseus was used to waking up to by this point in his demigod life, it was pain. That's not to say it grew any more pleasant over time, merely that he was more accustomed to it at this point. Slowly, he tried to stretch out his throbbing limbs from his laying position, and though it brought with it a few aches he succeeded in his endeavours, receiving a wonderful feeling as a reward as a few of his muscles popped to his satisfaction.

Groggily he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. After his vision had grown accustomed to the onslaught of newfound lighting, he recognized that he was in his tent and scowled. Memories floated back to him from the events of... Whenever it was his fight had taken place, and in turn, he recalled that he had given instructions for his tent to be given to the woman he had encountered at the garden.

Unless something happened to her when I was gone. A rogue thought ran quickly through his mind.

He attempted to rise from his position only to receive a searing pain all throughout his lower left side. Forcefully he gritted his teeth and made his legs obey his will to stand, much to the protest of the rest of his body.

He looked himself over upon the completion of this action. The sword wound on his shoulder had been stitched up, as had one that had evidently been made just above his left eyebrow. Looking down he could see that under the heavy bandages that coated his ribcage was heavy swelling and what looked to be some severe bruising on top of the broken ribs themselves.

Lovely. He commented dryly in his mind.

Slowly, he made his way out of his tent. He was unsure of how to feel once he saw that the camp had not moved at all since his fight. On one hand, he was still well aware that they had to be moving as quickly as possible lest the entire plan of the Peloponnesian league be put at risk. On the other, this at least meant he knew where the nearest source of water was, and it was in this direction he pushed himself.

As he walked through the camp many of his men stopped what they were doing, and though they all were quick to part ways for him, they also stared in confusion. It seemed they had not thought to see him awake for a good while longer. This brought a chuckle to the Prince's lips. He had never been one to stay down for too long.

Rounding a corner, he walked out past the outskirts of his encampment and towards the fresh stream at which he could see a few of the youths from his army drawing drinking water in their buckets. He made his way past them. once again taking amusement from the gawking, and leaned forward with his arm outstretched into the stream.

For a minute nothing happened, much to Perseus' confusion. Then, almost as though it were reluctant to do so, the water began to climb up his arm and cover his body, slowly taking away all the exterior wounds and doing a great deal towards aiding in the healing process of his assumedly two broken ribs.

Once the miracle that was one of the only perks in his mind of being a Demigod had completed its work, Perseus let the water drip back down into the stream and leaned back, sighing in contentedness.

"Well, that's rather odd.." A voice commented from behind the demigod, making him turn to the speaker he could easily recognize was Andros.

"What? That I'm able to heal myself with water or that you hadn't thought to do this sooner?" Perseus asked with a teasingly bitter tone.

"We did, sir. Nothing happened." Andros replied without blinking, though confusion was very prevalent on his face.

"Come now, you can admit your mistake my friend, Gods know we all make them here and there." Perseus chuckled, turning back to face the stream with a smile of amusement on his face.