AA3 57 - Aftermath

“Ast,” Verdan rasped, thumping his staff into the ground as he blocked another flurry of abyssal darts from the doomed Bonecallers.

Only two were left of the original five, and even as Verdan blocked their attacks, the stone construct he’d created impaled one of them with its stone spear before stamping on its head.

“Thanr laif,” Verdan called out, waiting just long enough for the lance of flame to drill through the Bonecaller before spitting out the blood in his mouth and turning to see what the situation was with the others.

Magnus, Beska and Arlai had been working with Osran and his thearns to clear out a pocket of strong Darjee resistance while Verdan took on the Bonecallers.

From the Guzzgar with four broken legs, it looked like the two Hex Witches were starting to understand how their powers worked. The redirection curse was nasty under any circumstances, but with Magnus’s enchanted weapon dealing additional force with each blow, it became brutal for those unprotected.

The portion of Verdan’s mind controlling the ten-foot-tall stone construct retasked it to join the others, and he watched with pride as it strode over with its stone weapons at the ready.

The spear and shield were really just an extension of its body, but Verdan was trying to push his skill at creating them forward, and that required doing things differently.

Seeing no immediate danger, Verdan took a sip of his water to ease his throat before following after his construct. He’d used a lot of Aether in the fight with the Bonecallers, but the true issue had been the rapid casting of spells as he fought against a numerically superior group.

Thankfully, the Darjee were used to fighting Kranjir, which meant they had little experience in such fights. Even so, it had been a struggle, but with them dead, the Darjee were firmly on the back foot.

Verdan cast a glance up at the centre of the settlement and the raging storm overhead. He’d become concerned when all the Thralls had seemingly perished, doubly so when their energy was drawn back to what he assumed was the Gormagyr.

The sheer amount of Malfease Verdan had seen flowing back up to the top made him reassess the magical strength of the Gormagyr. In raw capacity alone, they were likely several times as strong as Verdan, which was concerning.

Still, Kai and the others seemed to have dealt with it, and Verdan couldn’t sense any other sources of active abyssal energy. There were a few lingering spots here and there, but nothing worrying.

A cold rain was falling from the clouds overhead, sending rivulets of bloody water trickling down the hill. There were dead Darjee and Thralls sprawled everywhere, and the settlement itself was a bloodstained ruin.

The worst of the fighting was past them now; the Bonecallers dying and the Thralls losing their animation had spelled the end for the Darjee. That wasn’t to say that it was over, but Verdan was confident that the Chosen could finish things while he turned his attention elsewhere.

Already, the injured were being helped out of the bloody mess that the Darjee encampment had become, though far too many of the brave Kranjir who’d joined the assault were past anyone’s help.

Making his way toward where the wounded were being gathered, Verdan noted that a squad of shieldguard were protecting the area while Dunkirn’s resident doctor did what he could.

Verdan felt more than a little respect for the man for joining their assault. Hopefully, between the two of them, they could save as many lives as possible.

“Wizard!” A shieldguard was running down from the top of the hill they were on; an injured arm pressed tightly against their side. “The Chosen and the Sorcerer have been wounded, they need immediate healing!”

Verdan froze for a moment before casting a haste spell on himself and racing up toward the top of the hill.

A thought in the back of his mind whispered that he was choosing the lives of Kai and the Chosen over those injured with the doctor, that he was condemning good people to death by his own whim.

Verdan knew there was an argument for how much impact a Sorcerer or a Chosen would have as opposed to a handful of thearns and shieldguards.

The truth, however, was much simpler. Kai was his friend, and Verdan couldn’t stand by and do nothing, especially not given how urgent that call for aid had been.

Rushing between the strange warehouses at the top of the hill, Verdan quickly outpaced his guide, instead following the general flow of people to the centre.

Verdan found barely organised chaos waiting for him.

A few Darjee were fighting in the surrounding area, and Maeve directed the able-bodied to defend the area and protect the wounded within.

Taking a moment to stop and survey the area before acting, Verdan took it all in with wide eyes.

Several dozen Kranjir had wounds, some of which Verdan knew would be fatal without immediate intervention. Jarn was one of them, the large Chosen clutching at a nasty gut wound, his face shockingly pale with pain and blood loss.

“Verdan!” Hedda shouted, waving a hand to catch Verdan’s attention before pointing to where Gwen was sitting holding Kai. The Sorcerer had lost his right arm at the shoulder, and the exposed flesh that Verdan could see had been blackened with corruption.

In some ways, that corrupted mess was all that was keeping Kai alive, as without it, he would surely have already bled out.

Rushing over to Kai, Verdan dropped his staff down next to the Sorcerer and called out the Words of Power forcefully. “Grym iacha nercreth!”

Soothing blue Aether gathered around Verdan’s hands before rushing into the Sorcerer, aspected by the spell to heal and fortify. It was the best Verdan could do right now. That single spell was an appreciable portion of his reserves.

These last few days had hit his stores of Aether hard, but right now, Verdan’s only concern was saving as many people as he could.

Verdan waited just long enough to see some colour return to Kai’s face before focusing his Aether senses on the injured shoulder and examining the corruption it held.

Malfease lingered around the wound, but it seemed more like a byproduct of whatever had happened rather than an attack in itself. That was good.

“Do we have his arm?” Verdan asked, looking over to the exhausted Witches.

“Yes, here, we’ve kept it safe,” Hedda said, moving behind Gwen to retrieve the severed arm. The Witch seemed unphased by handling the limb, which might mean she was in shock, but Verdan doubted it.

Hedda was tough; he’d seen enough evidence of that in the last year to know that it would take more than this to shake her.

“Wait for my signal, then hold it to his shoulder and press tightly. Are there any other wounds I should know about?”

“Not on Kai,” Hedda said before nodding to where Jarn was propped up against a stone table. “The Chosen needs aid, though. Many of the thearns were badly wounded as well.”

“Understood,” Verdan said with a nod, his mind racing as he considered his options. His spell had bought Kai some time, but the Sorcerer was still weak. They needed to cleanse the wound and attach the arm as soon as possible.

Every moment that passed reduced the chance of Kai regaining full use of his arm.

At the same time, those around him were dying, and Kai was no longer in danger of doing the same quite so soon.

What Verdan needed was a way to forestall anyone else getting worse, to give him the time to work that he needed. If he could do that, he would have the best chance of saving Kai’s arm and their lives.

Verdan’s healing magic was slowly improving through repeated use, if not by any other means, but he lacked any sort of area spell.

Then again, did he really need to make one that was so different to what he already used?

Hurriedly throwing together the intent for the spell, Verdan got to his feet and reclaimed his staff. He’d put every drop of Aether he could into each Word and hope that it lasted long enough.

“Iacha dyn gward,” Verdan called out, spitting a mouthful of blood to one side as he cupped a hand around the head of his staff and affixed the spell.

A healing ward, one with enough range to cover everyone in his immediate vicinity. Unfortunately, that included the healthy and the sick alike, but it would dole out a steady stream of healing Aether until it ran out.

It would only target humans, that much Verdan had been able to ensure, but other than that, it was indiscriminate. Even now, he could feel the effects himself as his own healing was boosted.

“Right, that will keep everyone alive long enough for me to get to them,” Verdan said hoarsely, dropping down next to Kai again as he fought off a growing headache born of Aetherburn.

First things first, he needed to remove the corruption from both shoulder and arm. “Torr.”

A perfect slice of Aether took away the corrupted flesh, exposing the raw interior, which immediately begun to spurt blood. “Now, press the arm in!”

Hedda was quick to act, pushing the arm on while Verdan cast another fortifying healing spell, this time targeting Kai and the arm alike.

Now came the part he’d never done, though he knew the principle involved.

“Sia iacha dyn,” Verdan grunted out the words, his Aetherburn worsening as the shaky intent behind them required as much as he could give.

Ignoring his discomfort, Verdan reached out with his magic and grabbed the bone that had been severed. Manually adjusting how Hedda was holding the arm with his hands, Verdan fused the bones together.

It was a weak melding, but it gave the existing healing Aether a basis to work on.

Throwing his mind back to ancient lessons on medicine and anatomy, Verdan used every last bit of Aether in his spell to reattach the crucial parts, starting with the nerves.

It was exhausting work, and it took longer than Verdan would have liked, but eventually, he sat back on his heels. It was done.

A groan of pain came from nearby, drawing Verdan’s attention to the white-faced Jarn. The healing ward had run out of Aether a few minutes ago, and the Chosen wasn’t doing well in its absence.

“Wizard, please save him,” Anag said hoarsely, her eyes pleading with Verdan.

Verdan wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand and clambered unsteadily to his feet, Hedda reaching out to help him as she saw him struggle.

Giving the Witch a thankful look, Verdan moved over to Jarn, blood pooling in his mouth as he spoke Words of healing and got to work.

The Imperium taught Wizards to never do this, to never push themselves to this point after a battle. There were too many ways things could go wrong, too many potential issues that might arise, which needed Wizards who could still fight.

Verdan cast aside those rules without thought. He’d saved his friend, and now he’d save as many of the rest of them as he could, pain and discomfort be damned.