Last to Fall

Freeing the ponies took a little time, but with the perch secured and the antlers glowing in their hands the monsters kept a little distance off, perhaps slinking off to find other prey… or simply biding their strength for a later attempt. As the two men turned away from the perch at last Jigano felt his head turning, the growing warmth in his chest finally blossoming as a small, pale shape resolved from the darkness, padding along through the snow in exhausted determination.

He made sure Rory was stable enough to stand on his own for a moment before letting go of his friend to crouch down and scoop the bedraggled ball of feathers and fur into his hands, cuddling her against his chest as she peeped softly and nestled against him, awash in relief that he was sane and whole. He tucked her into his shirt next to the antler before taking Rory’s arm and supporting his friend across the snowy square and the distance – so much farther than he remembered – to the Temple and the sanctuary within.

Or at least, he hoped it would be sanctuary. Rory was weak and Jigano… though the bard was unharmed, the wounds he had inflicted on others had left indelible tears on his own soul, that no amount of stitching could close. He thought he’d seen Edy carrying Amalia this direction before, but there was no sign of them now. Hopefully that meant they’d been let inside, in spite of all the locks and warnings and common sense to the contrary. He didn’t know if Amalia was alive or dead, and that knowledge burned him as well, guilt piling on top of guilt as he kept Rory moving through sheer determination.

The first door they came too was the Temple door, closest to the Infirmary, but also strongly barred. For a moment Jigano stood outside it, one arm wrapped around his friend’s waist, and stared at the imposing obstacle, fiercely willing Isla to be standing on the other side, waiting to take in a new patient. That was folly, of course. She would be back in the Infirmary, hopefully with some of her helpers who had managed to make it in after all, before the darkness descended, but she would be able to begin treating Rory’s burns while Jigano patched up his shoulder, at least until Vervain could be brought to see him.

It was a good plan. A solid one. There was only one problem with it: a door stood between them and help, and as Jigano tested it and found it locked he had to swallow back tears of frustration. They had not come so far to be left to die now! He knew he was supposed to be quiet on this longest of nights, but fear and desperation drove him to lift his hand and knock gently against the wood, wincing as the sound carried in the silence that had fallen since the perch had been fixed. ”Please,” he said, nearly begging as he pressed his hand flat against the wood. ”Please, if anyone is in there, let us in. Rory is hurt, he needs Isla or Vervain or… or someone. A healer. Anyone. Please…”

Rexanna

Perhaps sanity was really a debatable topic. Rexanna liked to think she was fairly sane, but being in the Rathskeller, with so many strangers and yet remaining day after day seemed to be taking a toll on her. Pitch black darkness outside, and all she could really do was either sit and talk (perhaps to no one at all) or walk. And with the events of what was happening outside, she had to remind herself that hopefully her judgement would be good in debating whether to let something in or not. Someone had been taken and another had been let in.

Rexanna was all alone, however, with little to protect her aside from her quick thinking and fireworks, and so with that in mind she prowled above the Rathskeller in the Temple. Trying to keep the edge off, trying to keep her sane even if she paused now and then to stare into the shadows and pray to no god in particular that they didn’t stare back. It was during one of these aimless passes, surprised that her feet hadn’t created a path in the temple just yet, that she heard a rapping at the door.

She paused, brows furrowed together as her head snapped toward the door and the many locks. It could be a trick, a disaster, a danger for those down below and in the infirmary. Or, it wasn’t a trick at all and someone truly needed help. She didn’t know how dire the circumstances were, but she did know that she was heading toward the door. With an ear up against it, she listened in the hopes of hearing something with more information.

That was when she heard the name Rory and a voice distinctly like Jigano's, and her fingers began working before her mind caught up – unlocking each lock in what felt like record time. But she hadn’t opened the door yet, no, one lock remained and Rexanna realized she didn’t want to be caught unaware and without having fought back, just in case. So she brought her firework magic to the forefront of her mind, pulling it from the well within her, prepared to shoot it into the monsters on the other side of the door if it were necessary.

With a final click — she opened the door to see what awaited on the other side.

He felt many things, there in the limitless dark.

Fear: for Amalia. He remembered seeing her crumble, and feeling only grim satisfaction. It sat in his veins and memory, a heavy and nauseating thing. Edrei had already carried her away before the fox had come up to him and pressed the antler back into his hand.

Guilt: for setting the ponies loose. They snuffled at his clumsy hands, then snuffled at the fox's more deft hands. Watching with dark, trusting eyes, watching with anxiety.

Disappointment: for the Spark Bird was still nowhere to be seen. It was childish to think it would swoop out of the dark the moment they repaired the perch, but knowing that Amalia might well have died for it, and the darkness remained, was crushing.

And the cold had begun to creep in. With the adrenaline replaced by fatigue and crushing defeat, he could no longer stave away the agony that had had him lying on his back, weakly screaming as Amalia poured snow on him.

He was dead weight, led away in the dark, the ponies following close behind. It made his heart hurt even more.

That he didn't fall over while his friend stooped to pick up the little gryphon was a miracle. He swayed, then settled against the man again, something halfway between dead weight and walking.

He was exhausted.

He was in pain.

Step by step his breaths turned into little gasps and hisses, and by the time they were outside the Temple door he was barely standing.

But someone opened it. A woman he did not know, did not recognize. Rory blinked, slowly. Slowly. Blood was crusted on his right shoulder. Burns glistened wetly on the lower left half of his face and neck, wool fibers melted into his skin, the greatcoat scorched and cracked where the fire had struck him.

He couldn't take it anymore.

His blue eyes rolled back in his head, and he began to collapse.

Rory had always seemed so big to a small fox that Jigano was almost surprised to realize that he was taller than the blond man who leaned against him, barely conscious and silent as the bard, both afraid to tempt fate any further by speaking - or perhaps just too tired, too guilty, too haunted to find words for each other. What could they say? I'm sorry I hurt you. That I thought terrible things about you. That I wasn't faster, stronger, better enough to save you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner who I was. Do you hate me now? Can you forgive me? ...Do I deserve your forgiveness?

Ah, well. Jigano knew the answer to that last one, but there was no time to dwell on it. Not yet. They were in danger still, every moment they were outside, and Rory was hurt so badly that not even the guilt and fear over what had happened to Amalia - and did Edy get away safely? - could stop him from trying to save the man at his side.

Luck smiled upon them both when the locks on the door began to unlatch, Jigano's heart skipping a beat with a sudden leap of hope in his chest. They were so close to safety--

And then the locks paused. He curled his hand into a fist, exhaling slowly as he tried to stop the shaking in his limbs as Rory put more and more of his weight against the slender bard. "Please..." he whispered a last time, bowing his head in a fierce prayer to whoever was listening.

The door opened to Rexanna , a friendly face he hadn't expected but was ready to kiss. The lorekeeper was disheveled, blood on his face and chest, smudged with ash, but nothing compared to Rory. Blue eyes widened as his expression lifting from grey despair to gratitude a mere moment before Rory collapsed against him.

He caught the blond, but barely, feeling himself going down alongside his friend. With a last effort he pulled them both inside to collapse on the floor, their glowing red antlers clattering against the cold stones and Isuma squeaking protest as she barely wriggled loose from being squashed. "Rexanna, I'll get the door, if you can get Isla, please." He was begging now, relief at being let inside breaking down the barriers not even fear had quite managed. He pulled himself to his feet and staggered against the Temple door to shut it once more, beginning to click the locks shut with fingers that shook and a gaze that kept wandering back to Rory's still form on the ground.

Sensing his fear as it mingled with her own, the little gryphon peeped in concern and tottered to Rory's head, rubbing her downy-soft face against his unburned cheek in quiet plea for her friend to open his eyes.

A rush of relief flew through her lungs as the door opened, revealed to be Jigano and Rory. It didn’t last long, however, as she noticed the blood and the disheveled clothing. Why had they been outside? She had so many questions, but for now she needed to help them and make sure the door was closed behind. She rushed forward, stuffing the magic within her deep down again as Jigano rushed forward and let Rory and a small creature go – antlers she had seen before with Amalia, also clattered to the floor.

She rushed forward to check Rory, to check his breathing briefly as Jigano spoke to her. She stood, eyes a bit wide, but dedication beneath the surface. Jigano moved to the door to close it, beginning to latch and close the locks and she picked up her feet to rush toward the Infirmary – uncertain who remained and who had left. Her feet were quick and fairly silent along the stones, and as she breached the hospital she searched for Isla.

But after a few minutes of having found no such being, she had asked one of the passing workers that was helping one of the injured. An extremely short conversation had her feet moving from the Infirmary back down toward the Rathskeller, a passing glance sent Jigano’s way as she slipped down the stairs to the bar below. Now – no longer was she searching for Isla specifically but anyone that could help. As she made it to the bottom of the steps, she tried to get anyone’s attention. “I need a healer up above, right now!” She urged despite the hum in her voice. She'd take any healer she could get.

He finished closing the last lock, then double checked them all, no matter how his heart and guilt pulled him back to the man on the floor. Isuma cheeped softly, worried when Rory didn't wake up to her urgings, and Jigano tried to reassure her silently as he knelt to roll the wounded man carefully onto his back to take stock of the damage. There was a faint glow from candles further in, and the antlers that he placed nearby provided a bit more, but they also bathed the hunter in a bloody light that made his wounds look even worse. Without knowing quite how he did it, Jigano's eyes shifted more towards those of a fox, the world coming into a sharper focus as he did so.

He caught his breath at the extent of the burns, and on the still-bleeding tears in his friend's shoulder. For a moment he choked on guilt, but this was not the first injured friend he'd tended to - though, then, he'd had magic to rely on to heal the worst of it. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to take stock of the situation, Rexanna momentarily forgotten as she exchanged flurried words with those in the Infirmary. He needed to stop the bleeding. He could do that much. Isla would know what to do about the burns, but he needed to put pressure on the punctures

he could still taste their blood in his mouth, Rory and Amalia's both

so Rory would stop losing blood. He couldn't get his friend's coat off without causing more damage, he feared, so he settled for stripping off his sword and moving to the hunter's head, lifting him as gently as he could to support the man across his lap. Blond hair rested on his knee while he held his friend's wounded shoulder to his thigh to block the punctures to the back. Bundled cloth from his capacious sleeve formed a rough bandage that he pressed carefully down on top to soak up and slow the bleeding there. He was careful not to squeeze or reopen the wounds further than the shifting had already caused, but he was so focused on Rory's face and watching the rise and fall of his chest that he barely noticed Rexanna 's precipitous flight downstairs.

Isuma, meanwhile, had crawled onto Rory's stomach, shivering with exhaustion and worry as she curled up there and peeped quiet encouragement to the unconscious human, begging him to wake up as she laid her head on the bottom of his breastbone and watching him with wide, scared eyes.

Vervain

I need a healer up above, right now!

Vervain felt a strange sense of deja vu, but this time it wasn't Edrei calling for her, but another's voice. Well, she didn't know if it was for her exactly, but apparently she was the resident healer now. She had just straightened up from Amalia on the table, swallowing hard as she glanced around to the stairs and found Rexanna standing there.

"I..." she began, glancing back to the girl on the table before nodding. She gave curt, precise instructions to those she was leaving behind - as best she could anyway - before she swept away to join Rex at the foot of the stairs, motioning for her to lead the way.

"Where is Isla?" she asked, having been planning to get Amalia up to the infirmary for further treatment, but it didn't look like that was going to happen now.

Luckily it didn’t take her long before a woman appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Once again, relief flooded through the woman at the sight, but as she began to move again toward the top – toward Rory and Jigano, a question from Vervain was heard. “I don’t know. She’s not in the Infirmary.” She spoke, perhaps a bit rushed, but she was trying to hurry the best she could. When she reached the top, she rushed toward Jigano and Rory, kneeling beside to help if it was needed.

She moved the antlers to the side, clearing the way for whatever Vervain might need, and she looked to Jigano with wide eyes. “What happened?” She questioned, using her own hands to try and help suppress some of the bleeding until Vervain told her what to do. There were more questions bubbling beneath the surface, she had to gnaw on her cheek in an attempt to refrain from asking. “Why were you out there? What could possibly be so important?” She looked back down to Rory, then to Jigano’s companion with a curious eye, then finally to Vervain for instruction.

He didn't even realize Rexanna was back until her hands joined his on Rory's shoulder and he offered her a quick nod of thanks, not taking his eyes from his friend's face. If Rexanna was back than Isla would be there soon, he was certain. Except... it wasn't Isla who joined them. His eyes flickered up briefly, startled, when he saw Vervain, but his relief was palpable. Vervain had healed him with magic before. He trusted her to be able to do the same for Rory now. Burned by fire and torn by a monster's teeth...

Rexanna's question was so simple: two little words. But the answer was so much more than Jigano had strength for. "We..." He started, then stopped, shaking his head. "There was..." Again he stumbled, his silver tongue no longer dancing over words with ease.

Perhaps its coating of blood weighed it down.

"Amalia," he finally managed, grieving. "And Edy. And... us. We heard... we went... but the monsters weren't in the darkness. They were in our heads." He shuddered, but managed to keep the pressure on Rory's shoulder steady as he watched his friend's face as if it were the only thing in the world he could see clearly. "And... in our hearts. They... we... weren't strong enough, not on our own. They... we... turned on each other. Edy... she didn't know them. Didn't know any better. Not her fault but... it was her fire that burned him." He swallowed past the lump in his throat, feeling tears trying to prickle at the corners of his eyes but at the same time too numb to cry. "And she... against Amalia... Amalia was..." he trailed off, still not knowing what had become of the pair, or if either of them had survived.

Vervain hadn't realised quite how urgent it was until it became clear that even Rexanna didn't know what the heck was going on yet. Still, as she rushed up from the Rathskeller and her eyes fell upon Rory and Jigano, she felt her breath catch in her throat. She let Rex question and Jigano answer, the huntress storing away all the important information as she knelt down beside Rory to inspect his injuries. They were not dissimilar to Amalia's downstairs... speaking of which...

"She's alive," she murmured quickly and quietly. "Edrei arrived with her downstairs a little while ago. I was just finishing trying to treat her when I was called." She didn't bother to try to ask Jigano to clarify when he was still very obviously in shock, but it was difficult to piece together what had actually happened. No doubt the whole group would be able to explain, in their bits and pieces. But first of all there was Rory to deal with.

"I need to two to stop him from wriggling around, if and when he wakes up. I don't know how much I've got left in me, but I'll do my damndest." So saying, she drew once again on the well of her power, taking a slow, deep breath before holding her hands out over Rory, fighting to treat his injuries the same as he had Amalia's.

He was unaware of where he was.

He was unaware of the passage of time. He was unaware of the gryphon rubbing her face against his; of the ponies looking mournfully on as Jigano closed the door in their faces; of how he was eventually pulled up halfway onto his lap. Hands pressed against his shoulder.

He was cold.

He was warm.

He was tired.

In a way, he didn't want to take more: he was battered in a way he had never been before, pushed towards a brink that seemed so inviting to simply fall over. A sea of stars—

But though he was tired, he had sustained no more injuries, and with the gentle warmth flowing through his body and knitting together broken veins and torn muscles, life still won out. The deepest punctures closed. Whatever infection had begun to take hold of his blistered skin died.

That didn't mean it came easy, though. He shuddered, there on the borderland of consciousness, but the nightmare cries that left his mouth were weak and hoarse until it was merely his breath hissing in and out.

Vaguely he was aware of the warmth beneath his head and neck. Vaguely he was aware of shadows above him.

Opening his eyes fully seemed like too much of a hassle.

She let Jigano take as long as he needed to tell them what happened. Honestly, she wouldn’t have even minded if Jigano didn’t tell her anything. But as she held onto Rory with Jigano to help apply pressure and stop the bleeding, her eyes scanned his face – a sorrow felt deep down for her friend at what he must have witnessed, what he must have done. She nodded to him, listening, as he stumbled over Amalia and her unknown fate when Vervain spoke up to relieve some of the worries the Bard must have been feeling.

Rexanna leaned back slightly to sit beside Jigano, getting more comfortable and preparing to hold Rory down should he surge up. She nodded to Vervain and focused on the man in Jigano’s lap. “Anything will help, thank you so much for this.” She hummed to the other woman as she pressed lightly into Rory to make sure he wouldn’t move while he started a terrible kind of whine, cries and whimpering that had Rexanna shuddering ever so slightly.

It must have been terrible.

She glanced to Jigano, wishing to hug him and comfort him in any way she knew how. But for now, it was to fix Rory and move him to the Infirmary with the hope that Isla would be back soon.

Vervain's words seemed far away and strange, kindling hope that Jigano was afraid to feel as he glanced up at her with blue eyes hungry for reassurance. He didn't contradict her, but his gaze held a desperate need to believe, and a fragile gratitude at the news. He let out a shuddering breath as he gathered himself for her healing, remembering how gentle it had been when he had been the one injured. But... Rory was hurt so much worse than he had been. Again he felt the tears prickle at his eyes, and again he blinked them back as Rexanna settled beside him. Another day, another time, and he would have spared her a smile. Now he could barely nod, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he did what he could to steady his wounded friend in his lap. Isuma stayed where she was as well, a small ball of warmth and softness who continued to peep quietly in distress, both Jigano's and her own.

"...thank you..." the bard echoed Rexanna, barely above a whisper as he tensed and held as Vervain began her work. He felt Rory shake, heard him cry out, and held on grimly as he curled over his friend. Long, pale hair torn free of its braid slipped forwards to coil against the hunter's chest, but seeing the glow of magic in Vervain's hands steadied something in Jigano as well, and his expression began to firm up as he forced himself to watch his friend shiver and whimper and gasp as healing coursed through him to stabilize the worst of the damage that he had helped to cause.

"Please," he begged softly, though whether it was to Vervain or Rory it wasn't clear.

It sounded callous, but Vervain would be spared their thanks and their pleas for now. This was the first time she had used her magic so extensively, and she was acutely aware of the life budding within her that would rely on that well of energy too.

So it was a complex dance of give and take that Vai performed with her hands aglow and her eyes shut, oblivious to the world around her. In that moment it was just she and Rory and the flow of energy that connected them, knitting him back together.

Then all at once, it was over. Vai gasped softly and withdrew her hands, running her fingers through her dark hair and smiling tiredly. "Get him into the infirmary," she murmured. "He needs to rest. And so do I."

Woozily, the huntress would take herself away to sit in one of the Temple alcoves, needing to collect her thoughts for a moment.