There were advantages to being the only Gifted Healer in the kingdom. Among other things, his outburst that would have caused issues for nearly anyone else was glossed over. The next day’s training went well; the prince even seeming to spend more time focused on staying with their team and holding his position than ever before. He still broke formation occasionally, but now, the word “occasionally” could be used with absolute precision.
It was during a break that Lady Nyssa came up to Daniel, facing him while angling herself away from the prince and his bodyguards. When she spoke, she kept her voice low, even as she hefted the water bottle she held in her hands as an excuse.
“You know, after you left, he stayed. All day long, practicing with his men.”
“He did?” Daniel said, surprised.
“He did. Prince Roland might not seem like it, but he does take this seriously. He’s just . . .” Lady Nyssa paused, then tilted her head to guzzle from her leather water bottle. “He’s just not used to you. It took us a little time to get used to your team’s tempo too, if you recall.”
“Just a bit. And we had to adjust to you,” Daniel said, recalling the training sessions they had to have when they added a half-dozen new members to the team. “Adding a real Mage was interesting.”
“Yet you haven’t done much adjusting for him,” Lady Nyssa said, quietly.
“We have!”
A single raised eyebrow met Daniel’s automatic protest.
“Fine. We could use him more, but if we let him loose—”
“He’s going out anyway,” Lady Nyssa pointed out practically. “Prince Roland has good instincts. A little aggressive, but his instincts are good. Against most monsters, they’re the right ones. We just need to be able to back him when it is the time for him to break.”
“And we haven’t.”
The noblewoman smiled a little, taking another sip and then walking off. Leaving Daniel to ponder the question.
When the group returned to the training grounds, readying themselves for another clash with the Royal Guards, Daniel raised his hand and gestured for the team to gather around.
“Okay, Roland’s doing much better at holding the line. And that’s great, but I’m getting a little tired of getting beaten,” Daniel said, dropping his voice. “So, let’s change it up on the next fight.”
Omrak grinned savagely at the Healer’s words while Roland puffed up a little.
“Plan?” Asin said.
“Breakout and capture. I want us to separate one of the guards and pull him so we can beat him down and take him out. Then, do it again,” Daniel said. “We can’t beat them one on one, but together, I think we have a chance.”
“I could—” Johan began, but Daniel cut him off.
“No, we need you to keep free floating for this. I expect we’ll need you to cut them off if necessary.”
“How?” Charles said.
“Here’s what I’m thinking . . .” Daniel said, lowering his voice further while casting furtive glances at the other team.
***
The battle had started and continued in a familiar fashion. Omrak had spearheaded the attack, using the large greatsword in wide sweeps to keep two of the Royal Guards in check. Roland and Johan had split off a little, tackling another two guardsman each while the rest of the team kept an eye on the floating fourth guard who often worked to choose when he came in, disrupting their formation. Asin’s and Charles’s main focus was on Roland’s guard, aiding him in dealing with the much higher Leveled man and leaving Johan to duel it out alone. They had tried aiding him previously, but then the guardsmen had just turned on Omrak to finish him quicker. This tactic, of Daniel watching over them all and Lady Nyssa readying a powerful, knock-out spell, had been their best thus far.
Nothing unusual in any of that. The fact that the guard kept their attacks and their speed lowered to allow the team a chance was also not uncommon. Nor was the fact that Roland took a step too far when he was being led away, leaving a small gap that was not covered by any of the team.
What was unusual was the way Omrak chose to speed up his attacks, warding off the two other guards he fought for a few precious seconds. Even Johan sped up his own attacks, triggering Flurry of Blades to push his own opponent back. This was the start of a new tactic meant to help patch the gap created by Roland’s movement, an obvious new addition. It did nothing for the actual space, but that was what Asin’s Fan of Knives filling the air was meant to do.
“Get back here!” Daniel called out, angrily.
Too late. For while the series of knives flying through the air would have stopped any other fighter, the Royal Guardsmen weren’t just elites, they were the elites of elites. The fourth guardsman, waiting in the wings, dashed forwards, cutting through the flying knives with millimeters to spare and appearing in the middle of the group.
Rushing to meet him were Charles and Daniel, the pair swinging their weapons and pressing the guardsman before he could cause a problem. However, Omrak was now alone, as was Roland, and it was now that they would normally begin to fall apart.
Except, Roland retreated, slotting himself back into the space he had recently vacated. More than that, Omrak shortened his attacks, flowing into a tighter defensive form while Roland and Johan took up the slack and together, the three blocked off the four guardsmen. Instead of having to manage two different guardsmen himself, now the three faced four opponents together. Even so, they would have been overwhelmed, if not for the sudden burst of energy that surrounded the team as Roland triggered a Skill Proficiency.
Royal Aura was a powerful, royalty-only ability. It was a wide aura ability, boosting everything from strength and speed to even Skills. The entire group moved better, hit harder, and in Lady Nyssa’s case, finished forming her spell faster.
“Incoming!” Her barked warning was all the pair needed as they slid aside and allowed her orb to fly pass them.
The guardsman attempted to dodge aside, but at that point Charles used a new Skill Proficiency, one he rarely used. It was much less useful in the all-out brawls they fought, since Hinder was more of a debilitating strike. It sapped Stamina, drained energy and made the affected individual clumsy for a brief moment. The more powerful the affected, the shorter it lasted and in this case, it would barely stand for a second.
A second was enough.
The howling orb struck the guardsman, catching him in a swirling sphere of sound that rattled the jaw and shattered eardrums. As the orb dissipated, Asin appeared as if by magic, swinging her pommel down. Rather than target the gap between helmet and gorget, she used the back of her knife to strike the man. Penetration glowed around her hand as she struck, stunning the guardsman. A shout by a referee indicated a judged killing blow, making the Catkin grin.
Only to find herself blasted away by a rising cut that tore through her armored jacket that struck from behind, her blood splashing through the arena as it fell. The Gale Strike had not been pulled; the attack unleashed with all the strength and power a Level seventy-plus guardsman could wield.
The Beastkin flopped bonelessly to the ground at the edge of the arena. The entire group froze in astonishment, all but Daniel who dashed across the grounds to heal his oldest, best friend.
***
Omrak snarled, his sword coming up high and glowing as he nearly unleashed the Lightning’s Call on the guardsmen. He only held back because the other members of the team had pulled away, disengaging while the attacker was currently being physically manhandled by Prince Roland. The Northerner fell back toward his friend, sword still in hand as he watched over the pair.
A single glance at the two was enough to inform him of the extent of damage—bad. A quick Medium Healing had slowed down the bleeding and begun to patch together the large open wound, but Omrak knew Daniel would not leave it at that. There was much that needed to be done, what with the armor torn open and some of it embedded in her body.
Luckily, there was no better Healer in the kingdom, especially for such catastrophic wounds. Of course, that depended on whether Daniel had the time to finish his work. His Gift was powerful, but it was limited in that it took time to work.
The group soon settled down, another of the guardsmen managing to extricate the initial attacker aside. Omrak could see it now, now that he was looking. The anger, the disdain that he showed to the Catkin. He strode off under his own power, his bloody sword still held in hand.
When Prince Roland approached the pair, flanked by the Lady Nyssa, Omrak leveled his sword towards them all. Interestingly enough, Johan chose not to approach either party, but moved further out, floating at the edge of the crowd on the guardsmen’s flanks. A choice that Omrak would never have thought the timid fighter would make.
“You barbarian! You dare point a sword at our prince?” one of the guardsmen snarled, hand on the hilt of their recovered sharp weapons.
“This is not a real sword.” Omrak himself was still holding the practice greatsword, though considering his strength, it was still a dangerous weapon. After all, nearly six feet of steel swung at high speed could dent even metal. When Roland shifted to come closer, he idly shifted the weapon too. “But our Honored Healer needs time to work on his friend. We would not want him crowded, now would we? Dirt and other things being kicked into the wound is all bad.”
“I am just trying to check on—” Roland began.
“And you can,” Omrak said, cutting the prince off. “Your highness. When she is healed.”
He smiled a little, to help take the sting out of his words. Still, he refused to move, even when the guards moved closer, intent on carrying out their liege’s wishes. Still, the Northerner let the simmering rage flare a little higher, letting it reach his eyes as he shifted to face the guards. He could not win, but he could hurt them.
More than that, it was time to see how much the prince’s honor was worth.
“What happened to the other guardsman?” Omrak said, his voice calm. “Why is he not here to witness his mistake?” A beat, then he lowered his voice. “Or was it not a mistake?”
“He got a little overzealous, I admit. But he said he thought Asin had killed his friend.”
“In a training ground?” Omrak let the incredulity show in his voice.
“As I said, overzealous.”
Omrak turned and stared at the prince, his eyes meeting the others. “Do you truly believe that? A highly experienced soldier, unable to tell the difference between a blow in a training ground. Against the one member of our team that is most disliked?”
Prince Roland tilted his chin upwards, his voice growing cold. “Guardsman Griogair will be dealt with by his commander. He has been sent to report the incident himself, and will be tested for outside influence per imperial protocols.”
“Protocols?” Omrak frowned.
“Rules,” Lady Nyssa said, sliding into the conversation at this time. “There are rules when a Royal Guardsman attacks another, especially when royalty is involved. The entire incident will be investigated thoroughly.”
“And that is all you will do, your highness?” Omrak said challengingly.
“It should be sufficient,” Prince Roland said. “We have such protocols in place because of concerns of undue influence. At best, Guardsman Griogair will be relieved of his duty with me. Another individual is being sent over now.”
“And will they detest our friend as much?”
“I will make sure this does not happen again,” Prince Roland said, a hand crossing over to touch the griffin on his armor. “My word on it.”
Omrak grunted, uncertain. Lady Nyssa smiled a little, stepping forwards and pushing at Omrak’s blunt sword.
“That is the best you can expect, my Northern friend,” Lady Nyssa said, her voice low so that the others could not hear. “But worry not, we’ll keep an eye on Asin. And it won’t happen again. Even if this was targeted, they failed.”
A nod past Omrak’s shoulder made him turn a little; only now did he notice the stirring noises behind him.
Asin was on her feet, being helped upwards by Daniel. To the group’s surprise, it was the Healer who briefly wobbled, only to be supported by Omrak as he caught him around the shoulders.
“Sorry . . . I think I might have lost some . . . ummm . . . earlier memories. My balance will come . . .” Daniel muttered, his words fading in and out as he readjusted to the present. Unconsciously, Omrak noticed how he touched his chest where that Artifact that was supposed to help him lay. So far, Omrak had not seen any difference, but Daniel’s Gift was strange and unfathomable.
Certainly for a simple ex-sheepherder like him.
That Erlis chose to Gift such double-edged boons was one reason she was respected in the North, but it was Lundt who had their hearts. He was simple and blunt in his gifts and ire. Storms and thunder, bad weather and clear skies, there were no hidden dangers there.
Unlike this capital.
“So, what did I miss?” Daniel said as he came back. Then, as recollection fully returned, he scanned the guards. “The attacker?”
“Sent off, to be dealt with,” Lady Nyssa said, gliding around Omrak now that he was distracted.
In truth, the healing was done. And if they were going to launch another attack, it would have happened now. Omrak was content to let the rest of this play out—and the lady certainly played with Daniel. Omrak noted how a hand landed on his arm, how she moved closer to him, smiling upwards.
And Daniel, being Daniel and all too moral even when he didn’t realize it, was still oblivious.
“And you, Friend Asin?” Omrak rumbled, glancing at the Catkin whose claws kept popping in and out of her hands.
“Healed.” Asin gave a shrug, then her nose wrinkled. “Armor damaged.”
“Yes, that it is. And as apology, I’ll make sure something suitable is sent for you,” Prince Roland said, speaking fast. “I’m sorry about the incident. He will be dealt with.”
“Good armor?” Asin growled, ears twitching.
“Very good. Suitable for what you choose to do. Maybe even enchanted,” Roland said with a smile.
“Good.”
“Good? So there are no ill feelings.”
This got a half-shrug from Asin, making Omrak smile a little. The Catkin would remember. She likely would never let herself turn her back to the guards ever again. But she was also very practical. She understood how far she could push such things, being what she was.
“Now, I know we like to train, but perhaps a break?” Roland said, hesitatingly. “I’ll buy . . .”
Daniel frowned, looking at the guards and the group. Omrak snorted, knowing his friend would be busy thinking of lost time, of lost opportunity. Of how much ground he had lost using his Gift. Given a chance, he would push himself to he nearly fell over, somehow thinking it would help him gain back what he had lost. Forgetting everything else that was important.
Grinning, Omrak threw his arm around the Healer and the prince, pulling them off the training ground.
“Food! Friend Asin requires sustenance after healing, and so do I. And good repast should never be turned down!”
Sometimes, Friend Daniel just thought too much.