Desolate Steed

Cronn rests against a mattress in the infirmary, with three nurses tending to him. One scrubs at abrasions on his arms and legs with a warm, wet sponge, whilst another administers medication for his head. The third, who had assisted Briar and himself in finding Belial prior, replaces buckets of filthy solution with fresh ones at his feet and sorts out utensils on a small platter. Each of which is clearly designed for stitching up open wounds. He winces as the first nurse places a sponge against his cheek. The sting of alcohol against tender tissue remains persistent long after she moves on to another area. Cronn looks about the other beds, wondering why most remain empty in a time like this, but fearing the answer.

"Thank you, Cronn." The nurse at his feet says with a shy, uncertain smile.

"For what?"

"For saving us from what would have otherwise been certain death." The two nurses helping her nod in agreement. Each sharing in the small smile.

"There's no need for that." Cronn looks towards the nurse who has been tending wounds and stops her as she attempts to remove a stained undershirt from him. "Please, tend another patient."

With a nod, she spins in place and briskly walks towards another Nostrum; Bucket and sponge in hand. The one who had been hand feeding him dissolved medications finishes up her work as well and proceeds to do as the other had. Leaving Cronn with only the third, who has threaded a string through the eye of a curved needle.

"Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Cronn assures, offering her his left arm, where a large gash had been made in his bicep.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

The words come with a sharp pain as she twists the needle beneath his skin. Cronn winces again and grabs a bottle of alcohol from his bedside stand, which the first nurse left behind. Popping the cork, he takes a long swig and lets his head fall back.

"Please, ask."

"You say you knew of Belial's condition prior to all of this. You knew he was infected and would surely turn eventually."

"Indeed."

"So... why didn't you stop him when you knew you could? What would possess you to keep him sedated with that brew or even the sedatives? Knowing his transformation would surely be so fatal?"

"Are you suggesting you could kill a friend so easily?"

"No, never." She shakes her head as she ties off the stitches and clips the needle free with a pair of scissors. "I guess, all I'm trying to ask is; What was your plan of action?"

"I don't know." Cronn states, blandly. His eyes turn to the sheets as he takes another swig, not yet feeling the full weight of all that was lost. "Briar... Briar was the one with a plan. He wanted to see Belial overcome this but... neither of us knew his intentions. Nor how obscured he was mentally. Not until it was too late... that is."

"Suppression can certainly do some unexpected things."

Cronn gives a silent laugh, allowing a small amount of air to escape his nostrils as he drops his head down even further.

"I'm not so sure suppression was the root of it."

"Nostrum Cronn." A familiar voice calls out, accompanied by the sound of firm shoes.

Looking towards the ward's entrance, he spots Achlys. Who is followed closely behind by two of The Keep's servants. As she approaches his bed, she waves them off. Sending them to check on two others and giving the pair some privacy. Reaching the bedside, she looks over at the nurse and smiles faintly.

"You may go, Nurse Myra. I'd like to have a private conversation with our savior." The nurse does as she is asked, hastily trotting off with the platter and utensils. Once all others are out of earshot, Achlys slides onto the bed herself and sighs heavily. "It's been a rather expending night. Has it not?" Cronn does not respond. Seemingly unsure of what to say to such a thing. "I'd expect as much from you in a time like this."

"How is your...?" Cronn points towards Achlys' back, which she picks up on rather quickly.

"Oh, I'm fine." She smiles, being appreciative of Cronn's concerns for her well-being. "The vial you gave me had nearly sealed it, but I could certainly use another. However, it is sometimes better to heal naturally. As you know." She motions towards his stitches as she says this. Then, places an open palm against his thigh. "I came here to say that... I owe you more than my life, Nostrum Cronn. No one else can say that they have saved my life. Let alone, having done so numerous times in a single night. Keep the buckle." Cronn hadn't noticed her eyes drift towards the stand his folded clothes had been placed on, but he acknowledges that the belt sits atop the entirety of the pile. "Its origins suit you quite nicely." With another smile, she slides back onto her feet and faces him one last time. "Before I forget to mention it, there is one last thing we must do before tonight's healing process can truly begin." Achlys raises her hand into the air, making the well-known sign that silences all. As she does so, many Nostrum even stifle their grunts and pained cries. Offering her as much of their attention as possible. "In approximately one hour from now, we will be holding an event in the main hall. Those who are able to attend are greatly encouraged. Those who find themselves too ill or injured to do so are excused. Please, do not hinder your recoveries, Good Nostrum. Rest, heal." With this, Achlys shoots Cronn one last smile and heads for the door, letting her threaded cane click with every other step as she goes.

Cronn pulls himself up from a pillow and lets his feet hang off the edge of his bed. The air around them is remarkably cooler than the air higher up, which sends a shiver up his spine. He continues to hop down, finding his legs to still be weak and his soles tender as he gets dressed. Nurse Myra, spotting this, quickly walks back over to him.

"Nostrum Cronn, I-"

"Don't worry about me." He states firmly, teetering on one foot as he struggles to pull the band of his trousers over it. "I just need to be alone for a while."

"You're surely feeling some effect from the alcohol." She decides, now holding him up from under his arms as he continues to struggle with the clothing. "Please, just lay here and relax."

"I cannot. I need to visit the tower."

"The tower?"

"Yes, where we found Fredrick and Belial."

"I really don't think that's-"

"Enough!" Another stern voice exclaims, causing the pair of them to look towards it. "If Nostrum Cronn wishes to visit the tower, allow him."

"S-sorry, Nostrum Hael. I didn't mean-"

"They never do." She interrupts. "Come, Cronn. I will help you to the tower."

Cronn nods, now managing to pull up his trousers and slip the belt through each of its loops. Once he is fully dressed, Hael guides the way for him, with her faithful companion, Lee Fardel, close behind. As they travel up the winding stairs, she manages to keep him upright. Even with her surely limited sights beneath the wrappings that still cover her eyes. Once they reach the top and step outside, she lets go of Cronn, allowing him to move about the tower freely.

"Quite the view, is it not?" He asks, peering over the edge.

"I suppose so." She offers, seemingly uninterested. Still, she moves closer to him, with Lee taking the opposite side as her. "Tell me, Nostrum Cronn; Why is it you seek separation from what is surely an event to be held in your honor?"

Cronn remains quiet for a few moments. As if to be choosing his words carefully. Or rather, not at all. He then shrugs and presses his chin against his chest, looking towards the snowy lands below.

"There is no honor in this."

"I'm glad you think so." Hael states, having lost some level of distaste Cronn had not noticed prior. "Unfortunately though, there is no going back." Watching Cronn nod, she takes this as a mutual understanding.

"If only things could have gone differently." Lee leans against the waist-high wall with Cronn, propping his elbows up as he does so. "All of this might have been a little easier."

"I don't need to feel even more guilty for all of it."

"Nobody is trying to make you feel guilty." Hael assures, placing a hand on Cronn's shoulder as she does so. "This is all the doing of Briar. In one way or another. We're past it now."

"Past it? The damage has only just been done." Cronn argues, shifting her hand away with a sway of his shoulders.

"Not quite."

Cronn turns to face her, curiosity bubbling up in his drunken mind.

"We have much to discuss."