Awareness comes on very sluggishly. I reach that haze inbetween awake and asleep and stay there for what feels like hours in that tenuous reality. The dreamlike land of physical sensation without any real mental stimulation — silken sheets against my skin, comforting weight of blankets, my weight pressing down into a soft bed, pleasant warmth bleeding off of someone nearby…

  That spikes my brain to awareness near instantly and I sit up abruptly, suddenly alert. The act of sitting up so quickly sends bolts of agony through my body, but it at least helps sharpen my focus as I groan, roll over onto my side, and writhe for a few moments. I don't remember falling asleep next to someone else. I don't remember falling asleep at all, for that matter. The second I start to look around, I see Serafina sitting up next to me reading a little red book.

  She looks up and over at me with concern, lowering her book and pulling up the red velvet blankets to hold onto some degree of modesty. "You alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

  I stammer while my mind races, trying to remember last night but the haze of sleep fog makes it elude me. "I… uh…" Taking in the room, some of it is coming back to me, but the entire scene is surreal. Serafina is wearing effectively nothing but underwear, no different from me, and we're in a sort of couples suite on a lover's bed. "I guess, I'm just feeling kinda hazy right now." I trail off, wracking my brain to bring the puzzle pieces into better focus. The feeling reminds me strongly of the last time I got drunk and woke up hung over.

  "You must have been in worse shape than you seemed last night. And if your flaming cheeks are anything to go by, you're jumping to some, admittedly not unreasonable, assumptions." She reaches over and puts a hand gently on my shoulder and it makes me shiver — she has very cold hands. "First things first: whatever amorous things you're imagining or worried about — I don't judge in either case — are not the case. After we got into the room last night you were dead on your feet and only managed to get about halfway out of your bodyglove before "resting your eyes for a moment" and passing out on top of the covers. I, as respectfully as possible, helped you out of the rest and got some of your worse wounds treated before putting you to bed proper."

  She gives me a warm smile that puts me fully at ease as the rest of the pieces click together. "I don't really even remember much of getting to the town last night. Thanks for helping get me situated, Serafina." I hesitate for a little while, trying to gather words, to be a bit more open because she's shown she deserves the effort from me, "I truly appreciate all of the help you've been giving me, too. Not just this. It's been a long time I felt this way around someone. This relaxed, I mean." I amend my statement quickly, not wanting to send the wrong message while…basically naked in bed with her.

  The melodic chuckle spears my growing uncertainty dead on the spot. "Gods Above, Nyssa. At least you're not apologizing again, but you really need to relax. I promise, I'm going to be more generous about your words than you apparently will be." She firms her look a bit and gently tugs me back towards my pillows. "That aside, though, you need to get more sleep: consider it an order. The doctor will be coming by in a couple hours to look at our wounds more fully. After last night, and you waking up like this, you definitely need more rest."

  The stern words give me no real room to say anything contrary. But I realize I really don't even want to. I feel awful the longer I think about it. Using my Sanctus essence almost always leaves me covered in small wounds both internally and externally, but I used it extensively yesterday for physical and mental enhancement and I am feeling it.

  I'll just rest my eyes for a moment or two.

  A moment or two that turns accidentally into several hours of time travel until someone jostles me and softly says. "Doctor's here, Nyssa, Gonna need your participation for a little while, then you can go back to sleep."

  I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes and feeling a world better than the first time I woke up. Serafina had definitely been right.

  At the foot of the bed, discussing quietly with Serafina, is someone who looks in every way like a small-town doctor.

  They're an androgynous-looking elf with soft, rounded, features to contrast their downward-swept, sharply pointed, ears. They have bright-green eyes, looking like emeralds trapped in seas of white. Their clothes are a long medical coat that seems like it's been patched by hand a great many times, with a smock on the front covered in pockets with what appear to be a mixture of medical and gardening tools with some dirt stains scattered across it. Their hair is braided, if short, in complex patterns of loops and curves with seemingly no pattern, but remaining very fetching regardless.

  And when they look at me, realizing I've risen and seem ready, they fix me with a thin-lipped, slight, smile. "Your friend here painted you as quite the hero. Can I call you Nyssa, or would you prefer something else? I don't want to come across as overly familiar lest I make you uncomfortable."

  The words come across softly and with a wispy, airy tone — almost like they're whispered. Despite the whispering quality, they are clear-spoken without much inflection beyond sharper enunciation of T's that seems to almost always come with a click of their tongue.

  I smile back, "Nyssa is fine. And I don't think I'd really consider myself much of a hero, just…" Both of the others look at one another with matched smiles and cause me to trail off. "What?"

  "Lady Blackthorn here said that those would be your exact words in response. It's nothing to worry about, I'm just impressed she knows you so well."

  Normally, I think I might feel kind of offended and embarrassed that I was so easy to predict, but for Serafina it feels moreso par for the course — her paying close enough attention to notice things like that. As such, I return to a smile. "I guess so, yeah. What do you need me to do? Forewarning, I've spent a lot of time under magical healing over the years and have built up fair affinity for the most common lifegiving compounds." I warn. Becoming steadily more receptive to healing is definitely a net positive, especially for someone in an active combat role, but if a doctor is unfamiliar with how quickly someone will take to the healing it can easily lead to minor or major essence poisoning. Which for life-giving essences can range in effect from being as minor as shedding skin or scales, or in more extreme cases things like regrowing teeth…with the old ones still quite healthy and being unwilling to move.

  "Won't be a problem at all. I'm trained for alchemical healing over traditional magical alternatives. Virtually no risk of essence-based complications, even for someone in your situation. It's just slower acting — but, between you and me, I think that's a better option for long-term healing anyways." They walk alongside the bed, pulling a chair with them to sit alongside me.

  "You two take your time, I have some shopping to do and would rather give Nyssa some privacy. I'll bring back food in a couple hours." Serafina gives us both a small half-wave before closing the door behind her, leaving me and the doctor alone in the quiet room.

  "What do you need me to do?" I ask again, now that we've settled in for normal care.

  "So, your being this level of dressed will suffice unless you have any more specific complaints than what Lady Blackthorn told me about, but it didn't sound like you got wounded anywhere like that. So this is fine. My name is Paea, by the way, since I failed to identify myself earlier."

  "It's nice to meet you. I appreciate you coming out to help both of us. Did Serafina not need much help?"

  "No, she didn't. Between her enchanted items and general fortitude, she said she was feeling fairly well off come morning. I gave her a cursory lookover for good measure, but her wound had closed over without any complications because of the speed it was treated — which I'm led to believe was your doing. Good job, that would likely been lethal otherwise based on everything I could see." They narrow their eyes at me shrewdly, "Now, stop trying to direct my care to someone else. Your friend wanted me to take the best care of you that I can and I don't think I can do that if you keep asking me about her. I have some preliminary questions. Please forgive me if any questions come across as ignorant. I have no experience with demonkyn outside of an academic understanding that they are similar enough to kyn for most major concerns."

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  "First: This scarring across most of your body — is that something related to your recent injuries?"

  I clam up and look away. Naturally their first question would be the thing I'm most uncomfortable with. Steeling myself, I answer, though. I recount it in mechanical detail — this is something I've told many medical professionals about in my life, and it makes me long for back when May was the one regularly overseeing my care. I never needed to explain it to her after the first time. "It's a natural consequence of my essence usage. It bolsters me beyond normal limits and inevitably causes damage to my body. Cuts, scrapes on my skin. Tears and abrasions in my muscles. Worse cases have caused internal damage to my lungs and heart and migraines or fogginess of my mind."

  "That's… a lot. All of these scars are caused by that? Has there been any lasting damage internally?" I nod, then shake my head in response. "Is this what allowed you to carry your friend miles and miles to get here?"

  "Yes, that's the case. The essence itself is complicated, but it's something unique to my people as far as I know so there's not much information about it that isn't more of a historical record than research material. The damage is normally minor, even if widespread, so a single healing phial is usually enough to offset any damage caused — at least to the point of stabilization." I sigh at the end of my planned diatribe.

  "Well, it's good to hear that it's manageable. I'll see if I can't scrounge up something to help treat the latest scars before they settle in to be permanent like the others. In the meantime, can you lay down on your stomach? I'll take a look at the two more serious wounds you took yesterday according to Lady Blackthorn."

  I do as instructed, pulling myself out from beneath the blankets to lay down flat. Moving my right leg feels awful. Aside the abuse from the Sanctus, the knife wound, my cauterization, and then the angler's tooth were all in a very close proximity to one another. All being agitated by the aggressive use I put them through last night.

  They go quiet for probably fifteen minutes as they pick their way over the wounds with cold, metal, tools. Before they dig too deeply, I feel a chill run through the leg, numbing it locally with either Hydrus or Gelid essence. Gratefully dispelling some of the constant background pain. After that all I feel is a slightly uncomfortable poking around deep within my leg followed by meticulous pokes and prods of what is surely a needle.

  None of it is terribly unfamiliar, so I mostly just relax into the pillow and wait.

  "I'm going to be frank with you, Nyssa. Have you taken a chance to inspect this?" The words come across firm, very…doctor-y, appropriately.

  "Admittedly, no. I passed out last night and was asleep until you came in. Is it bad?" I don't add that it feels awful, because I assume that's going to be implied based on what they're about to say.

  "The knife wound is awfully infected — I assume that the scorching is your doing?" They ask and I nod, "That's a fine last resort tactic. At least, for how you apply it. You need to practice that more and try to target it better. As it stands, you did more damage than the knife wound did — and amplified what damage the knife wound did by searing the wound closed with a piece of the knife inside. I pulled the metal fragment out of the center of the irritation, it's probably around two inches long and I had to do some work to extract it."

  "That beside, the larger puncture from the angler you fought is nearly as bad off, possibly worse. You fought it off, but there's significant remnants of Venenum essence in the wound and likely around your entire body. You were badly poisoned and all of the physical activity caused it to distribute evenly around your body. Had your strange essence not done something about it, you'd have probably keeled over on the way. It bought you enough time to fight it off, but you've got wide-ranging damage across your entire body."

  Paea goes on and on, but those major points stand out the strongest to me. "So, the verdict?" I try to focus the talk. Most of what they're saying are things I'm aware of, so I don't need to be tutored about it.

  "The verdict is that you need time to heal before either of you go anywhere. Hitting the road in your condition is asking for trouble — Vigil training or otherwise. You, personally, experienced exactly how dangerous the region is — it's why we have a full-time barrier around the town."

  "You'll not get any disagreement from me. I need to be in good shape to ensure Serafina makes it back to Kharbon safe and sound. As long as she can abide the delay, so will I."

  The doctor smiles again, the same thin-lipped almost-smile as before, "She said you'd say that as well. She knows you quite well, it seems. Other than all of those other things, you're in decent enough shape, but you'll need to stay off the leg for the next day or two." I nod, "I'll come back and drop off some salves for you to apply as you recover, and maybe something to reduce the scarring if you'd like?"

  "I would appreciate it. Thanks, Paea."

  With some final pleasantries, they leave me alone in the room with bandaged wounds and my own thoughts. Some of my least favorite things to be left alone with.

  I smile at my own little half-joke and roll back over onto my back with merely mild misery now that the offending knife tip isn't stuck in my leg. That must have been grinding the whole way back, turning that section of my thigh into ground meat around itself.

  Not for the first time, I'm left wondering whether my Sanctus essence is a net boon or not.

  Someday, shrugging off all harm is going to get me killed. I've always been lucky enough to only need to rely on it extensively in situations where I won't be left helpless…

  I don't know how long I circle on that thought. Thinking about every notable time I've used that essence, and how more than half of them have wound up with me being hospitalized or put into a medically induced torpor to recover. But it's a while. All of the permanent scars that seem resistant to essence therapy to get rid of them. THe unreliability of the essence itself.

  Eventually, there's a soft knock and the door opens to reveal Serafina wearing some seemingly newly purchased common garb. It's similar to the first outfit I saw her in, but lower overall quality, and simpler. It distracts me from my thoughts for a moment, but I just collapse backwards into the pillows again after nodding.

  "Well, that's certainly not the reaction I expected to my return. Did the doctor have bad news?" She sets down the small stockpile of bags she’s carrying, and comes to sit next to me on the bed.

  I stay staring at the ceiling. "I'm just thinking about my Sanctus essence. Every time I use it, I feel like it's a liability more than a boon."

  "Why? If you hadn't had it these last couple days I would have died and so would you."

  "Because if I didn't have it, I wouldn't ever let myself get into situations like that. It's always there, lurking in the back of my mind as an "option" when things get bad." I suck in a sharp breath before continuing, "And that's only part of it, really. The doctor remarked that my wounds could have killed me if my essence had left me any earlier. I was poisoned badly by the river angler, and I failed to notice that the goblin broke a piece of its dagger off in my leg. I pushed well beyond any sort of reason. And it's happening more and more, recently."

  "When I chased the calamity, I pushed myself until I was suffering internal bleeding and hacking up blood, not even mentioning the damage I suffered to my spirit. The direct physical damage I always sustain because my body just can't handle the essence no matter how much training I do. How long will it be until the wrong muscle gets damaged and a tendon snaps when I jump to dodge something? Or it hurts a part of my brain that permanently changes me? Knocks my heart out of rhythm? It's things I've been thinking about a lot, and these last few weeks have made it far worse."

  I draw myself into a sitting position, wiping away forming tears while I work hard to keep myself objective. I won't be the weak little girl who couldn't help her parents anymore. Never again. "As I'm looking into these additional responsibilities, I just don't know if the Sanctus is really worth it and if I'm even cut out to do this. Garrick succeeds because he's consistent, he's stable. I have astonishing bursts of power, sure. But what if it runs out when I'm fighting a calamity? Or it damages something important and makes me miss an important attack and gets me killed? Then one of those things would have my abilities."

  "Maybe it's just better if I stop. I get you back to the keep, and leave the Vigil. I'm not wanted there anyways."

  I keep winding myself up as I go until I feel myself starting to hyperventilate again. Giving voice to all of these monsters in my head that have been living there since I was a little girl. Things I never even told May.

  My spiral is arrested when I feel arms wrap around me tightly and bringing me back to some semblance of reality again — not just the dark place I was heading to a dead sprint. A place I've lingered near for a long, long time.

  I push on, though, I feel like if I don't say this now I'll never be able to again. Between bouts of tears, I manage to eke out the truth at the center of my worries. "It couldn't save my parents, and they were among the best of our people, if not the best who were left. I'm not even a fraction of either of them and as far as I can tell, I never will be. Why did I survive that day? Why me?"

  From there, I lose it entirely. They're words I've thought endlessly. Every time I struggled, every time I hurt, every time I snapped at May, every fight with Garrick or Lan.

  I just draw my knees up and tuck my head into them and shut my eyes as hard as possible.

  Every single word is a knife, and I can't tell if I'm ripping them out or ramming them in. All I know is that it hurts and it never doesn't.