Another Kind of Holy

Caiside's mind swam, pain and chill working in tandem to rob him of his sense and memory. Already, he found that he couldn't exactly recount how he had arrived back inside, only knew that he was warm, and safer than he had been outside, and someone had mentioned something about an infirmary above the bar. As much as he wanted to stop, to sit and rest, he pushed himself onward just a little bit more. He could stop in the infirmary, get his arm, which was hanging numbly at his side, looked at. He could get his face, which throbbed with every step, looked at. A voice rang out in the empty hall, and Caiside, too tired to flinch, simply closed his eyes and turned towards it, opening them again once he was facing the source. An achingly familiar man stepped towards him on shaking legs. It took a moment before his words reached Caiside, and then another moment for the pieces to come together in his mind. The man was familiar because he had been outside as well, the one who had run after the first woman -the healer- had been ripped apart. Well this was just perfect. All this effort, and for what? "I am very badly hurt." Caiside confirmed, not bothering to hide his condescending tone in the least, though he did bite back the insults that laid waiting on his tongue. Couldn't the other man see the way his arm hung limp, or the blood specked across his face? "Is there anyone else who can help me here? Get someone for me." The demand didn't have its usual power, the overall effect made weaker by the way he was swaying on his feet. Caiside heir of fire and ash