Change of Heart

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Most Sidhe would have been more than proficient with a blade, and a Prince doubly so, but most Princes of the Sidhe race were pure Sidhe. No, scratch that, ALL were pure Sidhe. A halfbreed Prince of the Sidhe, however, well the only training they received was how to avoid getting the holy crap kicked out of them. Nik was more than proficient in THAT when he chose to be. The sword, though....gah, he'd about gone as pale as a sheet when Jak had gleefully announced he was to learn it and from Zen no less AND that he was to try to get his wild power under control via teaching from Lyra.

At that particular moment, Nik had been more worried about when the rumors would get back to his people about what he'd done. Stars, he was an idiot. It was too late to go back now, though, and so Nik had taken to just putting every ounce of worry, fear, anger, frustration and desires into training. He soaked up what Lyra could teach him like a sponge and was actually rather good at getting the lesson quickly and putting it into practice soon after. He did find himself frustrated often in the first few days though and his power had made it VERY clear that the way to teach him control was NOT to teach him meditation or even customary discipline. No, giving him grueling tasks, precision-required things was doing the best job. And letting he and his power learn about each other was helping as well. His Elemental side didn't need restraining. It needed understanding from its keeper.

All in all, that part of his training was going as well as could be expected. The sword, however... Nik groaned inwardly at just thinking about the stupid thing. By the sun, he hurt. Zen was relentless, hard, but fair. He seemed to get some kind of satisfaction in knocking Nik to the dirt over and over, lecturing the whole time, but no one could say he was cruel as he didn't hit when Nik was already down and he always let him get up and try again...even if his entire face spoke of disdain. THAT Nik was getting rather used to.

Now the halfbreed looked up from where he rested on his knees, white hair damp and clinging to his forehead, sweat rolling down the bare skin of his chest and back. The towel fell down and he caught it lazily, reflexes still swift, but his coordination of them not so great. He had an idea that it was that fact that frustrated Zen so much. Nik was quick, learned fast and he WAS strong...he just didn't really know how to put all those things together when it came to putting a sword in his hand and telling him to use it. He smiled wryly at Lyra's comment and shrugged a little, taking the drink and then speaking after with a slight shake of his head.

"True, but I'm learning, too." He took a breath and then stood, ignoring every muscle in his body that was telling him he was an absolute IDIOT, as he looked to Zen, expression not challenging but simply expectant. "Again?"
 
Offering her hand up, Zen looked over the young sidhe before pinching his fingers, "You are not ready to try again. And you know that slyae." Lyra perked her brow at the word knowing full well it was elven and it was the term for novice. Brushing off her knees as Zen perched his hand to her shoulder; he shook his head. "There is determination and limits Niklomaus. The sword is wielded with the understanding of knowing when is best and when is the right course of action. You will not control your sword when you body aches and protests. Much like you need to balance you hilt within your palm you must learn where it is right to strike. Resting is important, driving yourself to the brink of exhaustion proves nothing more than you will sleep dreamless."

Lyra nodded as she felt him give her a squeeze before releasing. "Sit and rest longer and do not argue." Zen's white eyes flickered over him, grading to see what sort of reaction he was going to give him. "I in fact a different course of training for you to observe. And observe only." Sliding his foot back giving the wooden sword a flip into his hand that extended the hilt to her, Zen grinned, "Lady General if you would oblige me."

Looking down at the sword, to Zen, to Nik, she hummed mirthfully before pointing to it. "I'm still under restriction."

"Take the damn sword." Zen jabbed at her playfully causing her to expand a bout of laughter that was light and breezy.

Fingers slipping around the play toy, swinging it around in a full arch with the twist of her wrist seeming to judge it's weight or lack of thereof; before raising it to rest against her shoulder. Zen nodded his appreciation before turning to look at the Sidhe. "Observe motions, obverse the way our bodys move with the swords motion rather than struggling to maintain it. The sword is not a tool, it is to be used as an extension of your being. So you will watch and nothing more." Zen straightened out his back, "Training level?" he inquired to her.

Pausing in thought, Lyra shook her head. "Third tier, full combat." military talk, "Boundaries are no more than fifteen feet between and around us at all time. No magic and no aerial combat." She'd have to explain this all to Nik later or Zen would. Either or.

"Fire in your belly Lady General, but I will not decline. In fact I encourage your spirit." Zen held a glint that could be described as his own heart showing on his face, determined and longing not only to spar with the woman but to free her of some of her aggression. The man was excited.

Lyra stretched her legs walking a bit away, "I've been cooped up lately with no outlet to tame my lust and desire." she grinned causing Zen to bark a laugh to her. Feeling she put a fair distance between the pair of them, turning around in a small circle she nodded. Spreading her feet across the grass stiffening her stance to hold her ground, Zen did the same. Both brandishing the toy swords, letting the silence take over the motion.

Remaining motionless for a time mimicking the way a stature stood endlessly under all sorts of weather, a shift of his foot and Lyra grinned demonically. As Lyra took a deep breath she launched herself towards Zen, in a flash she was overtop of him striking down. Zen didn't seem to be moving, he didn't even look up to watch Lyra pull her sword down over his head. It was too late for Lyra to pull her attack back, and very little of her wanted to, but if Zen was going to make it that easy for her, then he deserved to fall. A warriors mindset kicking in.

At the absolute last second Zen pulled up his sword, bringing his left hand up over the one end of his dull blade, embracing the onslaught; splinters sprayed around them as wood on wood clashed. Lyra's sword was a mere inch from Zen's face, the only thing in between Lyra's sword was Zen's weapon. Zen frowned, brooding at her beneath the already slick navy hair, with the might behind his sword to keep Lyra from pushing through his defense.

Pressing hard she was unrelenting towards Zen, attempting to overpower her foe she could hear the rattling of Zen's hilt as the sheer effort to keep Lyra from tearing him in two. If this was a real match with real swords that is. This proved that Lyra was definitely a lot stronger than most would see in her figure; she hadn't even tapped into her full potential yet. It felt as though they stood there for minutes just staring each other down, sweat beading down Zen's forehead, and Lyra glaring over the Commander.

Finally Zen smiled towards Lyra. "I see," He hummed under his breath. She only proceeded to raise an eyebrow. Finally Zen guided her sword towards the ground by allowing it to slide down the blade of his own sword. Both warriors twirled around, meeting swords once again; time and time again they matched swords. Gravel sprayed up as feet shuffled in attempts to outmaneuver the other. Zen was most definitely quick on his feet. Lyra would give him that.

Whipping around once more Lyra pulled through the air with a snarl, Zen leaping to the side he let Lyra misguide her sword to hit nothing but air. Without hesitation Zen charged her. Grunting Lyra pulled her body towards the ground and pulled a heavy leg and swiped attempting to take out his legs. Quickly the Commander leapt into the air, bringing the wooden sword into a stabbing motion. Lyra pulled her body into a barrel roll to create space between the two. Sliding across the grass and gravel on all fours, she recomposed by using this stance to replace the momentum in a direction towards Zen.

With blinding speed Lyra pulled into a shoulder check knocking Zen right in the chest sending the Commander careening through the air. With his back grinding against the ground he came to a halt a good ten paces away from Lyra. Positioning herself allowing Zen to sit up, visibly shaken by the blow. Holding his chest he managed to stand up without too much anguish. He smirked obviously forgetting that she held more skill and power behind her blows, he huffed hard.

"Enough?" he question as she shrugged, putting the sword back across her shoulder.

"I suppose, though I was only getting warmed up."
 
Nik listened and then sighed, looking down, but he nodded. Much as he would have liked to have driven himself to the point of exhaustion - heck, dreamless sleep sounded heavenly - he knew that in this circumstance it would actually bode better for him to actually listen to Zen and do what he said as he WAS his trainer. As long as Nik thought of it that way and not as the other elf looking down on him, he could get through it and take orders. So thinking, he moved back and sat down on the step Lyra had taken earlier, taking this new lesson in a stride. If Zen thought he was going to get foolish stubbornness, he was wrongly mistaken. Nik was reckless and temperamental, but he wasn't stupid.

And he ached. A lot.

So he watched. Scratch that, he stared at the performance given by the two seasoned elves and by the end of it, Nik was smiling just slightly. He'd watched Zen, of course, but his attention had been for Lyra and now he better understood just how lucky he'd been to come to a tie with her in a combative sparring match. He would stand absolutely no chance with her in the ring with a blade in her hand - maybe ever - and he wasn't ashamed to admit that. She was breathtaking, all power and grace and he found himself both proud of her, but also awed.

Knowing this was a lesson, though, his mind was also working on the moves they'd taken, committing them to memory and tracing back the steps until they were far more basic, understanding how they could be learned and what simple maneuvers could lead into bigger ones. It was like a puzzle, all the different pieces connecting and Nik liked puzzles. He just needed to get his body to learn how to solve them physically and not just mentally.
 
Looking at each other as Zen was rubbing his chest sorely, she started to laugh sheepishly biting her bottom lip trotting up to the man. He was chuckling as well, "And this is why you're a general and I am not." Zen gritted his teeth, "Damnit that hurt." while he was griping about it he was still smiling more impressed and thankful she didn't actually have a real sword with her.

"Come on, I'll give you a heal." she motioned back towards the step as he agreed easily coming up to look upon the prince as Lyra set her practice sword up against the side of the house. "Sit." she pointed, he obliged patiently sighed some before giving Nik a slight look from the corner of his eye.

Letting the soft warm light absorb around her hands, Lyra stooped in front of the Commander letting her palms rest against his chest seeming to check for a broken sternum or ribs. "Thank you," he muttered to her as she grinned happily it finally touching her eyes like it could, Zen raked back his slick hair. "And? What did you observe, slyae?"
 
Nik had been observing the two silently, not sure if he was happy that Lyra seemed so relaxed right now or not, but at Zen's words he sighed. And then started listing off all he'd seen, how he'd interpreted it and what he thought he should have learned from it all the while knowing that he was probably going to be wrong about this too. He'd still listen, though, and stars willing he'd learn.

-------

For the next week, Nik ate, slept, dreamed and lived training. In the morning he woke early and meditated for an hour, creating balls of healing energy in his hands, holding it there until he couldn't any longer, strengthening that aspect of himself. Then he spent the next two hours before true sunrise practicing the stances and maneuvers Zen was teaching him. He often would throw the sword down in frustration before glaring at it and picking it back up, trying again. After that came breakfast, bathing, dressing and going out for lessons with Lyra.

He liked that time of day the best as he was getting GOOD with his power. It ended all too soon, though, and he went about various chores at the house, spoke with the wolves when they came around and left little gestures for Lyra before lunch came around. He ate something light before going to meet Zen for sword training. He would have liked to think he wasn't getting knocked down AS much, but Nik knew he was probably lying to himself. He didn't think, however, that he was hallucinating the small glimmer of something new in Zen's eyes. He didn't seem quite so disdainful anymore as Nik slowly, but steadily improved, never complaining and always compliant with any and every new lesson he was given, practicing it both on and off the sparring ring until he got it right.

After being knocked down in the dirt a few dozen times, Nik needed another bath and then it was time to eat again. He usually picked at most of his dinner in pure exhaustion and then stumbled his way into bed. He wished that being so tired would keep the dreams at bay, but had no such luck, and then it was time to wake up and do it all over again.
 
Running the oiled cloth across the brilliant white blade of her sword, Zen made a motion with his hand for the cloth knowing she was babying her weapon more than she probably should. And why shouldn't she? It was purely handcrafted for her alone, cost more than a pretty penny but I was all worth it in the end. Valiant Glory live up to its name, shone brightest in the field and she was grateful to have the weight of her armor back upon her body.

Sliding it down into the blue woven scabbard at her hip, Zen stuffed the rag into the bottom of his own before lifting his sights up to the house. His routine was hard not to figure out, after committing to it for so long, it was almost more instinct than training. But today was another story.

The deep onyx and neutral grays of her armor gleamed under the sun light, her tabard freshly cleaned to bring out the white prestige, Zen held her helm under his arms waiting. "Did you ask Ace to cover for you in training?" she tilted her head up to the Commander.

"Aye, though I still doubt he will be enough to keep Niklomaus on his regiment. I attempted to convince Jakson of taking over instead but he refused. Something about Niklomaus not being ready to take him on yet." gloved hands ran across his temple, "I doubt that would be true, the sidhe has made good progression much to my previous thoughts." she smirked privately before planting her hands to her hips. "You were right Lady General."

"Aye, and I never get tired of hearing it."

"Who is taking over the training for his powers?" a valid question as she grinned all the more to herself. "You didn't."


"Oh he will be fine, Arrah is a great teacher. Just a bit to free with her cane is all." They were waiting for the prince to arise this morning, they would be leaving for a time to finally touch the bases of the front line. Her heart filled with gusto and longing; Lyra stifled herself from leaping in joy to it.
 
Nik couldn't have said why he slept in late that day. Maybe it was because his subconscious knew he didn't have training until later due to his new teachers. Maybe it was because the fatigue had finally caught up to him. All he did know was that when he woke it was to muffle a scream, his entire body shuddering with a pain so acute he could barely think past it. Blue streams of hazy power rippled over his body, nothing but energy in this form, but deadly and unhappy nonetheless. As the pain lessened, faded, Nik gasped and shivered, trying to remember what he'd dreamed, but finding the more he grasped for the memory, the harder it became to find.

It hadn't been a normal dream, though. He knew that much. His power was angry, but not at him and he attempted a few deep breaths to calm himself so that his gift would calm as well. When his body stopped trembling, Nik finally moved, getting up and slipping on a shirt that hung on his frame and frankly made him look younger. Feeling anything but stable as his mind whirled, trying to find some solid ground after a dream he couldn't even remember, the halfbreed padded out to the kitchen, grabbed some tea already made and then went out to the porch where he knew the voices were coming from.

He knew what Zen was thinking the moment the elf saw him and Nik did nothing more than level a glare at him. Yes, he was well aware he looked like a child. He didn't need a commentary on it. "Not a word or I'll blast you so far across the field you won't be able to sit for a week." It was mostly grumbled as he plopped sideways on a step and pulled a knee up, thumping his head back against one of the posts there as his pale eyes closed.

"Stars, I hate mornings."
 
Turning to look at the man finally coming out of the house, Zen started to chuckle at the threat thrown at him. Sure the lad could chuck his magic at him and honestly destroy him but he still had a ways to go in the name of swordplay. Either way he was laughing at the comment, light hearted and honestly not taking it to heart.

"Good morning to you as well your highness," Lyra shook her head though her lips were quirked in a tugging tease; fingers came up to circle around her cheeks. "I hope you swallow that snarling wolven muzzle before facing Arrah. I'd hate to see your head riddled with lumps."

Zen chuckled further directing his attention backwards across his shoulder, before clearing his throat and nudging her gently. "We should be going Lyra," he dropped a lot of the formalities he would keep in front of Nik for the time, "We can only stall so long before Jak comes to find us." Ghost eyes trained to him, "Try and keep up your ethic, yes?"


Nodding as she gave Zen a patient hand to his forearm, letting it linger there while she was addressing the grouchy man. "Well the house is yours for the next while, peace and quiet for you." she smiled softly, "Do well Nik in your studies, alright." What was she suppose to say, she knew him to be trying to sway her in a way she didn't understand for a while now, but his actions weren't always so clear even for her to determined. Shaking her head, she turned her back to him trotting up to catch up with Zen having already started to walk away, looking up to the higher elf with a gleaming grin.
 
Nik snorted softly, cracking an eye open at her and smiling in a roguish way. "Nah, she likes me." he retorted, but then sighed and lifted his head, looking at both of them, knowing for a fact that he was going to miss Lyra and strangely enough...a bit disappointed in seeing Zen go, too. He didn't stand as they did, only nodding to Zen at the comment to keep working hard and then he focused his pale eyes on Lyra, only smiling at her when she spoke to him, something tender in the expression.

"I will."

He watched her leave then, watched them leave with an ache already spreading through his chest and he closed his eyes before they got out of sight. "Please watch over them. Bring them both back to me. Please." It was only a whisper into the wind and when Nik opened his eyes again they were both lost from sight. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Nik made to stand...and then practically jumped out of his skin at seeing Arrah.

How in the world did she DO that?!

Gasping to keep his heart out of his throat, he focused on the old elf and glared. "Dammit, could you at least wear a bell!" The dark-haired seer didn't even crack a smile, looking after the way Lyra had gone and she hmmed to herself quietly before seeming to come to an understanding about something. It was at that point that she turned and swiftly bopped Nik on the head. "Hush you! I most certainly do like you, but not your tongue today. Now, up, up!"

Groaning for more reason than one, Nik complied and then proceeded to follow the old elf to the field, rubbing his head.

------------

It had been three days since Lyra and Zen had left and the morning of each one of them, Nik woke with a scream on his lips or lodged in his throat and pain rippling through his body. It was getting worse and he had no idea why or what was causing it. All he knew was that he was starting to remember vaguely the dreams he was having about a red-haired, red-eyed woman with a coy smile and a desire-filled gaze. He didn't know her, had never seen her and he could never remember what her moving lips were saying, what she wanted.

All he knew was that the more she kept appearing, the more control he lost over his power. It was angry, restless and he would almost say scared. It was starting to scare Nik himself and it wasn't until the third day, when he unleashed a stream of fire instead of water that Arrah called a halt to the lesson and instead made him sit. Nik did, trembling and she came up to him with a frown and took his face into her hands, ignoring when he flinched. "Stay still."

The male glared a bit and she gave him a slight smirk. "Don't make me use that." A motion with her eyes revealed the cane not far away and Nik sighed, complying as his pale eyes met her green ones. He found himself unable to look away then as her own started to glow and swirl, drawing him in...and then Nik jerked away from her, a cry of agony ripping past his throat as he clutched his head and rolled to the side, curling as the pain throbbed through his skull and down his spine, flaring outward. He felt hands on his head, gentle and heard soothing words after a time before he opened his eyes to see Arrah looking down at him with both sympathy, but also a fury he'd never seen on her face before.

He soon realized it wasn't aimed at him as she helped him sit up and handed him the water cup, muttering and cursing to herself as he watched her, not daring to ask what she'd done, scared of finding out. He had to actively work not to shake as the pain finally started to truly fade and Arrah threw her hands up in the air, spewing her words like an angry, hissing she-cat that's had its fur ruffled. "Of all the rude, invasive, crude, snoopy, devious s**t I have ever seen-! Oh, they think they are so clever! Well, we'll see about that the entitled little b*****ds! Cruel, that's what this is, just pure and simple-"

"Arrah?"

The old elf stopped as if coming back to herself and she pinned him with a piercing looking. "How long you been having those dreams?"

"How- Nevermind. Umm...four days...I think. Why? What's wrong?" Nik was trying hard to keep the cold pit in his stomach from spreading, but Arrah's renewed mumbling as she shuffled about the clearing, waving her formidable cane in the air like she was bashing various unruly children over the head didn't help.

He tried again. "Arrah?"

"You've got someone in your head, sneaky little witch. Or maybe not a witch. Hard to tell."

"I...WHAT?!" Okay, calm was gone, now Nik just felt both scared and angry at once and the seer gave him a look. "Stay. Won't do any good to lose your head now. Though, I dare say it's not really under your control right now anyway. Hmm, that could be interesting...."

"Arrah!"

She smiled suddenly and Nik could have strangled the old crone in that moment as she nodded to herself, looking very pleased about something as she approached him and he leaned away from her, not liking that expression at all. For good reason too as she thumped him on the head again and he winced. "Ow."

"I said stay still. Now, this won't hurt."

"I notice you didn't say that last time."

"Quiet."

Nik complied, nervous as she touched his head again and he felt - saw? - a green energy come over his mind, a shield of sorts that he didn't really understand until Arrah pulled back with a half-satisfied noise. "There. I can't kick the b**ch out, but I can trap her in and she can't do much damage that way except look through your head."

There was a long moment of silence before Nik spoke very quietly and very slowly. "Arrah, who is in my head and how did they get there?"

The old elf waved her hand in her version of a shrug. "Oh, some dream-meddler. They like to control people through subtle dream manipulations. As for how, well, she has to have some kind of connection with you. Now, it's been dealt with. Back to training."

The halfbreed stared at her, unsure how he should feel about this, but for the rest of the day Arrah didn't really let him think all to much on the fact that he had some crazy, red-haired woman's consciousness trapped inside his skull. Right, who should be worried about that?
 
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Three weeks later...

The city once silent for the past while, dreamy and content all seemed well, at peace making all too many believe there wasn't a war just outside their gates. But all things did not last. The bubble of tranquillity popped as the door of his office slammed open with such a force that he damn near fell right out of his chair.

Gripping onto his desk for dear life, Jak threw a wide eyed gaze up to the man standing in his doorway huffing and puffing, blood dripping down the side of his body without a care. All that was enough to alarm him but the panic in his eyes was enough to chill his bones. "Zen?"

"We... we were ambushed! Something beyond the abilities of the centaurs-" Zen was speaking in a hurried pace, jabbing his hand out the door and just taking off before he could even ask him what the hell he was talking about.

Pushing himself to his feet running right out the door, poor Thera clung to the wall as Zen nearly bulldozed the woman over, - slipping on his own blood- again making a habit of slamming doors open at a ridiculous speed as he had to shield his eyes from the sun blaring down in the open skies.

Eyes adjusted slowly as he gasped at the trail of soldiers rushing through the town square; many seeming to have same bleeding wounds and others... were either dead and being taken home to be buried properly or sitting on the gates of hell itself. Zen was as white as a ghost, panic heaving as he thought the lad was even going to be sick right there. He had seen war before, this was nothing new and he was about to tell him the very thing until his gaze caught the sight of a flat supply wagon carrying someone he had not wanted to see there. "Lyra!" planks of wood stained in a crimson shade, her armor had been stripped from the top of her torso, bandages and gauze wrapped around her chest though the almost black blood seeping through did nothing to only clench his own fears. Grabbing Zen, he swung him forward getting them to both start moving towards the healers ward. "What happened!"

"I don't know!" Zen was shaking, wild and afraid in ways he had never seen. Gripping his head as they ran, he was on the borders of hysterics. "One moment we are pulling back to tend to those already wounded and the next there were more centaurs around us than we ever could have imagined. They ambushed us before we could even get a breath in."

"I don't give a crap about that, what happened to Lyra!" he demanded developing a snare that could have chomped through chain.

Tapping his chest, Zen gritted back whatever bile was threatening to rise. "Someone said she was fighting her way through but I don't know what to believe. Next thing I knew, she was being speared with a lancet, one that cut through her armor as if it was paper! There using enchants on their weapons! We didn't stand a chance!" Zen bowed his head, "We had no healers out there. We didn't think we needed one."


"F**k!"
 
As Lyra was his wife, Nik was informed as soon as she was brought into the city. What he wasn't told was her condition and as he made his way through the town, it was the whispers spreading like wildfire that gave him clues as to what had happened, told him that everything was not okay, that this wasn't just the fighters coming back and his feet started to race toward the council building, panic in his heart as he kept hearing Lyra's name.

Oh, gods, please no. Please don't let her be dead!

Oh yes, that would be a shame.

Shut up! Nik snarled it at the feminine voice inside his head and she only chuckled before disappearing again, leaving him to his racing fears. He moved through the crowd of injured, looking on in horror at the once proud, tall warriors resorted to this sad state. Lyra... Pale blue eyes looked toward the healing ward and Nik took off for it, fearing the worst, hoping and not daring to breathe. When he saw Zen and Jak outside the room he knew the news wouldn't be good and all thought but getting to Lyra fled from his mind. He barely registered when Jak told him to not go in and only came back to some awareness when he realized he was actually fighting Lyra's brother and the blue of his power was starting to glow threateningly under his skin.

And then another voice was speaking into his ear, a powerful one from a short stature. "Niklomaus, sit down!" Arrah stood before him now and the halfbreed struggled to control the fear and worry and anger inside him as their gazes matched, both with an incredible power, but one far older and trained, demanding respect. The atmosphere crackled as those wills met and Nik hissed his words, accusing.

"You knew."

"Sit down." They were firm words, steady and Nik obeyed, putting his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. Arrah did nothing more then expect sit beside him and she gave a nod to Jak and Zen. She had it under control.
 
Huffing at the raw rage rumbling hard under his skin, sweeping through his mind at Nik arriving in such a state, he was more than ready to strike out at the lad. Not because of his actions alone, but to get him to back up and rethink his actions.

Zen was watching though unlike his usual self there were no quips or backing up on his part. He had been addressed for the wounds he had come back with but they were minor. If one could say a gouge to the side was minor. He'd never been so thankful and so annoyed that Arrah had shown up, more grateful than anything of course.

Growling under his breath, Jak stood before the door denying any to enter besides the one woman who would have planted him ten feet under if he tried. Amara had been the one to issue the orders that no one was to enter unless they were a fully trained and announced healer. No exceptions. It wasn't just Lyra that had been injured, many others were struggling on from the wounds encountered and many more succumbing to the death of them. Grave and furious, a new threat only was starting to rise.

Being bumped with the door, a older woman apologized as she slipped out wiping her hands of blood with a clean cloth. A mother healer, one of the highest women available other than their mother for healing. "Colonel." she addressed him with a tired tone, eyes jerked up from Zen to the woman bordering on his panic and hopeful news. "Commander." she moved along to look at Arrah with a sly smile private between the two old women, "Arrah you really need to come around more when I am not arm deep in blood and gore." finally the pale hazel eyes landed on the prince. "Niklomaus, well as lovely as it is you are all here to wait for news, I don't bring much."

A fist tightened, "What news?"

Irises fell to her hands resuming to clean them; "Her condition is life threatening but that much is already know." she tapped to the centre of her own chest, "Clean through the sternum, the blade was barbed tearing a awful mess through her bone and throat alone. Her main artery to the heart has been struck making the blood loss even greater than it had to be. Punctured lung, broken ribs, the list goes on. We have managed to mend as much as possible but we are not miracle makers." her tone was flat from practice of many speeches such as these. "We might have been able to fix the damage quicker if the blade hadn't been tainted with an agent that stops the blood from clotting. She's lost a lot of blood, I don't want to say it but this isn't good. Your mother is trying Colonel but we can't promise anything."

Cupping his hands over his face Zen had managed to stay quiet as the rage that boiled deep within Jak seemed to dissipate into nothing. No damn righteous fear took hold tight. Gritting his teeth he shook his head. "Anything you can do Ora, anything. She might be ready to let go but I'm sure as hell not ready to let her just walk out like this. You have to keep trying!"

"We will do our best Colonel, but do not expect us to perform the impossible. We are few and the injuries are great. There are others that can be saved, you know we cannot dedicate all our abilities merely to one. It is terrible and it is the truth." she bowed her head, "I'll keep you posted. Please keep everyone out still, we cannot risk any contamination." she looked at them all, slipping back through the door as a the lock clicked. Leaving them with it all.
 
Fury and nausea warred inside the halfbreed when the healer left and Nik tried for the anger first, looking up to Arrah who'd stood and was leaning against her cane, thoughtful. She sensed his gaze before he even uttered a word and inwardly sighed. The poor young ones. They never saw the bigger picture, always living in the here and now. Pity they couldn't be informed of everything. It wasn't necessarily allowed.

"Do something."

"Nik-"

"You have power! Do something!" He was standing now, rage and desperation both flickering like storms through his eyes and Arrah drew herself up, stern. "So do you, child, and I don't see you helping. I don't have that kind of power, Niklomaus." She watched as his fists clenched and his jaw did the same, convulsively swallowing and her gaze turned sympathetic as she simply pointed to the nearest trash bin. The halfbreed barely made it before the contents of his stomach decided to evacuate his body and Arrah moved to place a hand on his back, feeling it trembling with sobs suppressed.

Love really was a b**ch sometimes.

It wasn't until the ground started to vibrate, though, a clear indication that Nik was losing any module of control that he had that the seer made her decision final. "Nik." When he looked to her, she simply touched his temple with her fingers and watched as his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground, out cold. The ground stopped its slight shaking and Arrah looked to Zen, pointing. "You. Help me with him and I don't want to hear one word about it. Staying here isn't going to benefit anyone. Lyra will grace us with her presence when she feels damn good and ready to. Now move."
 
Zen rose when he was being pointed too, exchanged a look with Jak who lifted his hands in surrender, he was not getting involve with Arrah. He learnt that years ago and knew best to stay on her good side. Many good warnings from others and his mother alike was enough confirmation to know that Arrah was more than she seemed. And with good reason.

Remaining vigilant at his guard, stopping many family members from dashing into the ward, receiving his fair share of insults and anger; he was just as lost as they were. But it wasn't as if he could let that out for them to witness, the Colonel had to be strong right now while so many were demanding answers that he did not have.

Zen returned later after making sure Nik had been taken home, Mira and Moth having been around to be the ones to watch over the young man though he was certain that his wolves would be close if not beside him. So his mind was turned towards the teetering fate of his kin.

Doors popped open, tired she squeezed around gripping his arm as she sighed heavily, she looked exhausted. Amara smiled sweetly before making a tip of her chin. "She's being moved to the infirmary for now, it's still iffy but if your sister is as stubborn as I know her to be, she should alright."

Relief and anxiety swam through his gut as he exhaled heavily, Amara slipping her arms around her eldest child. "Are we allowed to see her?" Zen piped up, not standing quite yet but certainly looking at her priestess with big eyes pleading.

"I suppose, just to relief you guys." she turned a look around landing on Arrah before frowning. "Where is Niklomaus?"

"Arrah had to simmer him down, Zen took him home where he has some vigilant watch." Jak informed; "Zen why don't you go and check on Lyra, I will come later." Jak looked to his mother, "I'll walk you home."

"Such a good boy," she grinned softly, exchanging a look with Arrah before allowing Jak to take her to the street ways. Another guard would be posted shortly in front of the doors stopping anymore from entering as Zen pressed his lips tight together.


Staring into the distance, he stood slowly to his feet. "Lady Arrah will you be joining myself or checking on Niklomaus?"
 
Arrah sighed, cracking her old back and she hummed to herself, looking thoughtful and up at the sky like it might have the answer for her. Finally she nodded. "Oh, I think I will go back to check on the lovesick fool. Can't very well leave him with those inadequate to handle him." She smiled at Amara and patted her arm, far older than even the graceful priestess, but having a great fondness and respect for her nonetheless.

"You did well, my dear." She pulled Amara into a short hug and whispered into her ear for the mother alone. "She'll be fine. You have my word." Pulling back, she tapped Jak on the head in a warning way with the cane, not hard enough to be called a thump, but enough to make him pay attention. Young ones and their wandering minds these days! "You. Make sure your mother gets home safe. And don't go by the orchard road."

Nodding to herself, she shuffled away toward Lyra's house, knowing she had a work cut out when Nik woke. Oh, she was getting too old for this, but still, to be alive in such exciting, changing times! It almost made her feel young again! Well.... The old elf cracked her back again. Maybe in spirit.

---

It had taken some time to even get Nik to wake up and Arrah had muttered and cursed to herself the whole time as the wolves looked on. Mothis and Miralyn had left the moment they'd arrived, the children still not okay with the werewolves, but that was for the better considering the profanities the old elf was voicing. Marsin and Jasnar - a silver wolf - only caught snatches of her mumbled words, their ears perked.

".....knew her hold was growing....should have known better....wake up, you bloody wee hellion......should rectify that shield....hearing her talk now, I suppose...."

The two male werewolves didn't comment on her words and were just relieved when Nik finally woke, gasping and coughing much to Arrah's delight as she gave a whoop, making Marsin and Jasnar jump. They gave her odd looks, but then turned their attention to Nik who was already asking about Lyra. It took only a few moments to fill him in and the halfbreed was up and out the door before anyone could stop him. Arrah had bid the wolves stay then and followed at a far more reasonable pace.

Gah, these young ones were going to run her over before long. Very good she had her trusty cane.
 
Sitting at the bedside, his hands folded before his paled complexion; Zen was lost in thought. Everything had happened so fast, so many questions needed answers. And she had paid the price for it! No that wasn't true, so many more paid the price for it, those who had died and those still struggling to keep it together. To hold on.

As much as he wanted to see her, the moment he did he wanted to just roll over and play dead alongside. She looked weak, frail and small beneath the bandages and thin sheet. Sweat touched her brow as there was still bleeding seeping from the bandages around the sucking wound that was in her chest. They would have to go back in he was told, but they just had to get her stable. This wasn't stable, this was gut wrenching.

The dappling of freckles upon her ashy cheeks, breathing was laboured as there seemed to be a constant look of agony registered upon her face. As much as he hated it, she was trying to keep holding on, fighting even against the reaper itself.

Swallowing hard, the young novice healers were around constantly walking through the infirmary checking on patients of all sorts; though the ones that were more coherent weren't speaking. No he knew they were all watching to hear on their General. He wasn't the only one lost for all this and it did little to ease his mind that he wasn't.


Given a rag to press over her brow, Zen frowned deeply brushing back the golden hair away; her lips pulled apart allowing a desperate need of air to suck through her teeth as the whine of agony came trembling back out. "None of us are ready for you to go Lyra." he muttered. He was exhausted, ready to collapse on his feet but he couldn't leave. He couldn't.
 
Nik came into the room quietly. His mind was fuzzy, spinning from whatever Arrah had done to him - and what was already going on inside his mind due to the red-woman's presence, but he didn't know that - but he paid it no mind whatsoever. How could he when the she-elf he'd fallen in love with was lying so still and pale in the bed? He loved her. He knew that now. The thought of losing her had filled him with such terror and grief that he'd not been able to function and even now it wanted to overwhelm as he looked at her. He loved her and he couldn't lose her. Not now. Not ever.

Pale blue eyes barely flickered to Zen, neither male have anything to say to one another, only faintly united in their worry and affection for Lyra. There was no blame to be cast here, no anger or fighting, or bitterness that would heal her and make her better. There was only the quiet and the need to be near her, to touch her and know she was still with them. There was only the need to tell her, somehow, that they were here and they hadn't given up on her.

Nik took a seat on the opposite side of the bed from Zen and he didn't try to stop anything the other male did, simply taking Lyra's hand into his own and stroking her skin gently, eyes intent upon her face. He hated the pain there, the agony he could not ease, dared not. He wanted to heal her, to use every drop of his Sidhe ability, but her own words rang loud in his head and if he was ever going to do anything for her now, it was respect her wisdom when she'd been teaching him. He wouldn't risk messing anything up due to his lack of experience. It was the biggest gift he could give her right now and he hated it with a passion.

Do you think she'll die? She doesn't look very good.

Shut up.

Kinda gives real meaning to the humans saying, 'death warmed over'.

SHUT UP! Get of my head!

But it's quite interesting in here, Nik. Oh, and do tell the seer that I didn't appreciate that blackout technique of hers. She does it again and, well, some bad things will happen. was the purred reply, but she went silent after that and Niklomaus sent a wave of hate after her as he once more focused on Lyra, reaching up to brush her bangs from her forehead, the backs of his hands touching her cheek. "You'll be all right, hugrekki einn. We won't leave you to fight alone." he whispered, hoping, praying she could hear.
 
Paying more attention to Nik than the lad did to him, he maintained a firm frown on his face. He didn't want too, he really didn't but there was something in all this... all that training with the stubborn kid that he had a bit of respect for. As much as he wanted Lyra with himself, he knew it wasn't what it was.


Pushing up after how long he sat there, he tipped his to him. "Will you be alright, Nik?"
 
Slightly startled at the sound of his nickname - coming from ZEN'S lips no less - Nik looked up, blinking to focus on the Commander's face. Comprehension came a bit slower and then the white-haired male nodded, voice quiet as he looked back at Lyra, her presence in the room the most powerful force for him. He couldn't keep his attention off her for long and nor did he want to.

"Yeah." His throat cleared, getting rid of the gravely quality. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks, Zen."

He didn't watch if the other male left or not, replacing the cloth on Lyra's forehead, gently moping up the sweat that beaded on her skin even as he kept one of her hands in his own. He didn't want to let her go for anything. Maybe it was illogical to think that if he wasn't holding on to her, like he could keep her from slipping away from him, then she would. He didn't care, though. If there was even the slightest chance that him being here was helping her then it was worth every long, agonizing minute he had to watch her struggle.

Time passed and Nik finally laid his head down beside her hand, placing a kiss to her fingers as he started to sing softly. It wasn't a talent he let be known often, but the voice that tumbled from his mouth in his native tongue was rich and deep, like a river over smooth stones and Nik kept at it, singing her ballads of his people, folksongs he'd learned from humans, wolven tunes passed down from generations. Anything and everything to keep the silence at bay, to let her know she was not alone.
 
Breathing came hard, difficult to pull a hungry breath in and stiff to push back out; but it was something that told her that she was still grasping upon this life. Her throat was parched, sore and sticky but nothing seemed as painful as the hot white agony that ripped through her center. Blinking slowly the fog from her eyes, trying to clear the sight of what was above her a soft drowning noise sounded like a buzzing bee. Everything around her was hard to focus on.

A body limp with lack of motion seemed hesitant to move to her call as if she had fallen asleep on her arms and legs.

Teeth gritted as she the whine of pain tried to rumble in a vocal cord from her lips, only letting silence come past instead though she certainly felt it stringing in a humming sting.

Straining her vision letting one eye in hopes to help move along her sight, pupils moved upwards realizing there was someone leaning over her, blurry lips from what she could tell were moving in a frantic manner. A crown of gold upon the top of its head. The insistent buzzing didn't clear making it hurt for her to even focus on the vision let alone hear it.

"Lyra!" jolting sharp as the noise barrier sucked in only to imploded hearing his voice demanding her attention, she winced as she jumped when he bellowed at her. Though he received a swift slap for it a partial smirk touching her lips, she made a lazy swipe at him. Feeling his palm to her brow as he grinned brightly, fear echoing behind it; he squeezed his eyes shut. "You're suck an jerk!" he was teasing. Swallowing hard she shrugged slowly, stopped and decided that the movement was too hard to commit too. Though fingers lifted to touch her neck she figured out pretty quickly why it seemed like she was conquering hell trying to speak. Tilting her head to the side watching her brother sit down, Kauity was around his side making a wave to someone out of her line of sight though she had a feeling it was the Sidhe male. Fondness touched her face listening to Jak explain everything about her condition going into further detail talking about the white haired man, she nodded. It was strange, she knew he was there while she was god knows where and honestly she was more appreciative than she could actually voice.

'How long... have I been out?' oh she was going to hate this already, mouthing her words was guna make her crazy. Watching her repeat it a few times, one time too many for her temper, Jak nodded some.

"Four days." lips pursed in distaste to that, "They had to do multiple healings, Mama often being in charge."
'Fantastic.' she mouthed the word with a keen unhappiness, 'Home?'
Jak shrugged, "It's really up to Nik, I mean if he thinks you will be alright at home then I think the Novice healers would be alright with it," her brother was looking away searching for the said sidhe, "You need rest still to recoup Lyra, this isn't something just to shrug off. There not even sure yet you will be able to get your voice back," now she was scowling at him, "Don't give me that, the damage was extensive. They will keep healing as you go but you know the risk of it happening is there."
 
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