Chapter Sixteen: Recovery

Back at the castle, King Zarash appointed five medic specialists to attend to the injured heroes.

"And you say that she was captured?"

"Yes, father, I wasn't able to protect her from Azackton. I'm such a failure", Avery replied, wiping his eyes from constantly crying.

"Hold still please, your majesty", said a medic, who was applying a damp cloth to the Prince's leg.

"You did your best, Avery. You are very fortunate that you all escaped with your lives", Zauhn commented.

"Argh, that hurts", Shouted Avery, jumping up from the Apothecary bed.

"Now sir, how will your wound be able to heal if I do not apply ice to it?" Asked the concerned doctor.

"There are other things to worry about than a mere contusion", Avery stomped, leaving the room.

The Prince lightly limped over to the second Apothecary room, where his comrades are.

"Are you ok, Toru?"

"I'm mending, I still feel terribly sore and lost a lot of blood. But I will be fine. I've endured worse than this before. How are the rest of you holding up?"

"Sore", answered Boru.

"What will we do now? Azackton has won. I'm nowhere near strong enough to fight him, and now you are all hurt", said Avery.

"Regarding these current circumstances, it would be beneficial for you to train more frequently, Avery", spoke the Wizard, Zash. "I have already requested of you father, that I train you exclusively in magic."

"But that's not going to change the fact that we're going to lose our homeland to the evil brute", answered the depressed boy.

"A Knight does not ever give up, not until his last drop of blood is spilled", Halu put in.

"We have not lost yet. When we lose Cravon, we will lose the war, but not yet. Let us go train now, Avery. The more we prepare, the stronger you become", spoke Zash.