A sweet, but scary grandma

Azarius POV

Running through the tent with a bunch of bandages in my arms I arrived next to the old woman. "Good, now start stuffing and wrapping the wound. Keep it taunt but not too tight boy." Not gonna lie, the old priestess can be right scary when she wants to be.

Didn't take much to get where we are. After following her into the tent she immediately started telling the others what to do. And the reason why I called her scary was because a soldier white some deep cuts from claw marks attempted to get back up after treatment only to find the old priestess' kindness is for those who listen. As he sat up a hand swiftly smacking into his newly bandaged side and sternum with a slight bit of healing magic to go with it led the man to almost scream out obscenities had he not seen the kindly smile that promised pain should he be stupid.

So as I bandaged the arm in front of me with practiced but fumbling hands due to still lacking a bit of control. I kept an ear out for the granny's orders. Grabbing the end of the bandage and tying it off I looked up for more.

"Good, now, Linda! grab some of the bottles of potions were tackeling the severe cases. Boy, know what a tourniquet is?" With a simple nod she began walking hiking her robe slightly to walk quicker. Grabbing the rolls of bandages I followed along to the deep end of the tent. A few screams here and there from some of the patients who were being treated reminding me of field hospitals during my stint as a medic. Probably why I fell so easily in this roll.

We came to a stop next to a civilian griping his cot on each side. One of his legs cut and charred from below the knee. He was on the bigger side with paler skin. Nord most likely answer.

"Turn at the bottom of the knee before the wound, restoration magic can only be so effective but once it starts it might reopen the bleeding so we'll prevent that." Must have seen a bit of the question in my eyes when she spoke. Quickly got right into it as I took a bandage and wrapping it where she told me to. A small stake was handed from a nearby priestess as she passed, not even questioning my presence. Or at least not willing to question the scary old woman. As I tied in the tourniquet and began to tighten it a small burst of light from the man's upper body made me trail my eyes upwards. The priestess was cradling his head slightly with a hand on his tunic. Whispering to him but with the background noise it was too difficult to make it out. The patient far more calm now. The light died down as she said in a clear voice. "Wrap up the end for now so we can move on." After wrapping it up and Giving the man a reassuring pat on his shoulder we moved on to the next.

In the time it took to treat 4 more patients we could hear the cheering comming from outside. Unlike all of them, it was still business as usual for us. Moving to and from each of the patients. I did get to see first hand as a few of the priests used potions for themselves and for patients. More often they used the blue ones, most likely magicka potions; and red and green for the patients. The health and stamina potions helping keep them alive to receive more through care from the more practiced in treatment. I will say this though. Granny priestess never needed a single potion the entire time. And it seemed she saw through my thoughts as with a swift motion I was knocked upside the head as she said, "stay focused boy no time for rude thoughts with people to save."

I replied with the instinct for survival, "Yes mamm!" And scurried to grab more bandages from a corner of the large tent. Grabbing some stakes as well, I was then weaving through the various people moving about with the stack in my hands. Then I felt a draw from somewhere in my body. Reaching the side of the priestess I dropped the stack on a nearby table quickly and sought to catch my breath. She placed a hand on my shoulder to steady me. "How are you spending magicka boy, you may have decent reserves for someone as young as you but I haven't seen you cast anythin since you've been in here?"

Breathing in heavily I tried to come up with an answer. I knew it was Shirou, just didn't expect to is much of a draw from his magic since he made it seem like he was gaining his own Magicka.

As another priestess passed by and the old woman raised a hand sign to her, a common signal for a magicka potion. As she passed it to me she said, "sip, your too young to be drinking them full as it could stunt your growth."

Doing as I was told, a cool feeling slipping down my throat, and I could breath a little easier now. "What happened boy, and don't lie to me now. I've got more than enough time on you to know about magic. Not much can surprise this bag of bones."

"Contract (inhale) magic with (inhale) my brother." Still gulping in breaths as I can slowly feel my magicka regenerate. After the initial pull it didn't take anymore yet. Knowing how he fights and how typical his sword projections break I don't like how it's looking for me. She places a hand at my back as relief practically flooded into me. It was like the burden for the load of Shirou's magic wasn't being borne by be anymore.

"First time I've felt like this in awhile, must be some spell to even dip my reserves even a little bit." And I just realized she just hyjacked into a pseudo master/ servant connection like it was nothing.

"When this is over you two are comming with me so we can get this thing sorted out. I've got one grandchild out galavanting about playing hero. Worryingly I saw the little bastard on his way with the soon to be emperor before the whole avatar of Akatosh debacle. This is a right shit show. But at least the little shit can show how true Nords fight." She set me on a bed keeping a hand on me. "Can you at least tell me what spell that boy did? I've seen alot of magic in my years but this seems like a master level spell." Thinking it over, we're gonna need someone to look after us and the scary grandma who also knows the hero of Kavatch sees better than most.

"It's called projection magic, different from conjuring a sword from oblivion it's more an alteration spell that changes the air into a projection of a weapon of his choice, mostly swords. He also uses a bow as well, and shoots various swords altering their shape to fit as arrows." I ripped the bandaid off speaking realatively quickly. She took that in stride though.

"Interesting idea, what he needs to accomplish such a feat is not light. Not to mention if it could be better to just summon one, far less magicka intensive for sure. What's the advantage then?" Hearing her response I was a little stunned but considering how she has been providing Shirou magicka and Saving me from exhaustion and passing out I just answered the question.

"To keep it simple he can recreate the swords and can control how powerful they are, modifying enchantments on the fly. Not to mention recreating more famous swords as well." "Hmmm, not much a bound sword can do beyond being sharp and a ready blade for a mage. What else?"

Now I had to think s bit. I can't just reveal how his noble phantasm works, that's a bit too much. But the technique of his projection. What they represented in this world. One name came to mind, "Kyne"

Stunned for a moment she looked at me incredulously. Then it hit her as well. the connection pinged for a lack of a better word. We both felt how the winds were shifting for but the briefest moment.

"Hmm, you got a teacher boy?" She spoke after a bit of silence.

"I don't for magicka?" My reply laced with a question hanging off it.

"Well your mine now, former Arch-mage Viola Air-Walker. Current head priestess of Kynereth or as you seem to know we Nords call her, Kyne. I specialize in alteration and restoration." A grin forming on her face.

I don't have much a choice in this decision, it seems.