Completed The Other Half

[Elias]

Columns of black and billowing smoke rose from the canopy of the not-so-far-off treeline. Elias had been carted away with the moaning and groaning near-dead casualties from the battle and taken to the large medical tent at the outskirts of the Anirian camp, where he sat on a long crate outside the entrance, absently staring in the battlefield's general direction. His dark garments were wet with his blood and that of many strangers, and he wore a crust of muck and mud.

The cries of wounded men from the tent behind him, lined up on cots and makeshift tables for treatment, were plentiful and loud enough to drown out any of Eli's thoughts. That is if he had any to interrupt.

With weak hands, Elias fumbled at his belt for a small drawstring pouch, which slipped out of his grasp and fell between his feet after he'd struggled to finally unfasten it.

Uttering a hiss under his breath, "Fuckin'..." Elias leaned forward to grab the pouch but came to a sudden halt. His features twisted in a strained grimace as sharp pains began to spread like fire throughout his body. He was reminded then of the cuts he'd suffered, some deep and some shallow, and the arrows that stuck out from him as if he were a target on the academy's training ground.

Despite the pain, the apprentice Dreadlord made another stubborn attempt to reach for the pouch, only to freeze up again as he aggravated his many injuries.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

What this battle represented was hardly on the minds of anyone feverishly working their way through the tent of wounded soldiers and warriors. Least of all Elspeth Sirl. Though not the most senior in triage, she was one of the more educated and experienced that Vel Anir could spare for the battlefront, which put her in the position of making difficult decisions.

One of which had been to leave the Dreadlord Initiate waiting outside while those who were less likely to survive a wait were cared for. By now she'd worked alongside many Dreadlords and Initiates at various places, and having seen the carnage they could reap ... and the damage they could suffer, Elsi felt confident in her judgement that the unknown Initiate outside could hold on a little longer.

Minutes felt like hours as she found herself shifting between one horrendous injury after another. By the end of the night she knew her hands would be raw from the continuous cycle of washing and tending. Her back and feet ached and her medic robes were saturated by so much gruesome gore she could hardly stand herself. But the work wasn't done yet and Elias' turn soon arrived. Two medics approached him outside and carefully helped him to his feet to bring him in to a table. There Elspeth stood at the nearby wash basin, scrubbing her hands with determination - the brilliant red of her long and now unkempt braid matched only by the deep stains of her smock.

"Thank you for your patience," she said quietly while she scrubbed, "we're greatly understaffed and I take faith that Vel Anir's Dreadlords can withstand far more punishment than its soldiers."

 

[Elias]

A third effort to retrieve the pouch was made, and he felt his fingertips brush over the material just as two pairs of hands helped him onto his feet and guided him into the tent. He'd mumbled something about the pouch, but to the busy and overwhelmed medics, it sounded like nonsense, and they paid his ramblings little mind.

Not paying terribly close attention to anything as he sat down, Elias's empty gaze settled straight ahead.

The woman nearby thanked him for being patient, which he knew for an indisputable fact he wasn't that kind of person. He hadn't waited that long. Or did he?

"Sure," his response lacked any of his regular lighthearted whimsy. It also lacked any real kind of emotion and came across flatly. Boredly. "I'm the most patient person I know."

Then he began to survey the tent and the many medics and surgeons that scurried around. To him, it appeared they were appropriately staffed to deal with a reasonable number of wounded. But how quickly the dead had begun to outnumber the living when the fighting started.

"Huh, that's fair. I guess most of us are."

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

The lackluster response wasn't terribly off-key for Dreadlords or Initiates. Having spent some time with Edric and Ralene she'd come to be familiar with the fact that the Initiates were not terribly good with ... well, people in general. Hands scrubbed and stinging, Elsi took a steadying breath as she dried them and turned to assess the Initiate in question. What she found was shocking - that he was still alive and coherent even more so. Any normal soldier likely would have bled out by now.

"Take your blessings where you can," she replied as she moved to a nearby rolling cart, selecting several phials filled with various colors of liquids, as well as a large pair of shears.

"Drink this. It will numb the pain for the extraction," Elsi handed him a bottle of clear liquid and set the other items aside on a small stand, "can you tell me of any other immediate pain? Broken bones? Trouble breathing or seeing?"

 

[Elias]

"Hm," another time, Elias would have voiced what he thought about blessings or good fortune.

He held the vial between his thumb and forefinger and lightly swirled the contents. He intently stared at it, perhaps appearing deep in thought about it. But he was shaking the glass without any real reason.

"Well, you see, this morning I woke up with this annoying stiffness in my neck..." Not keen on admitting that he ached all over, that was all she would get out of him. It was similar to the aftermath of one of Ralene's weight training routines, except dialed up to ten thousand.

The vial was offered back to her, "Don't need it. Save it for somebody that does."

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Stubborn one, wasn't he? Elspeth tapped into her reserves of patience. Warriors - honestly, couldn't get the Gods damned truth out of them about pain or injuries even if their own lives depended on it. Brow furrowed at the phial he pushed back at her, she sighed and set it down on the stand. They were under-staffed, yes, but not under-supplied. Plenty of pain killers to go around.

"Alright, well, if you're not going to co-operate then we'll just have to do it the hard way."

At the very least, the faster she took care of this boy the faster she could check on the other patients who were a bit more open to her doing her job. Motioning to two other Medic's nearby, she fastened the Doctor's mask around her face and tied it off at the back, then waited for the other two to take up their spots at either side of the Initiate. Elsi leaned in, breaking any modicum of appropriate personal space that existed, to check for the pointed tips of arrow heads along the chestpiece of his armor.

She found only one for the four arrows presently stuck into his shoulders and back, sticking out the open seam where pauldron connected to breastplate.

Shears, she held out her hand and the shears were placed on her palm.

A dull, splintering crack at the back of his shoulder as she lopped off the tail end of the arrow.

Brace.

The two Medic's held fast onto the Initiate by his upper arms and chest.

Elsi clamped down on the arrow shaft just behind the points and with determined effort, smoothly yanked it through the meat of his shoulder and out the front. Fresh blood welled from the open wound, to which the Medic on that side quickly packed it with gauze.

The arrow clinked into a waiting tin pan. Elspeth took a steadying breath and moved to the Initiate's back side where she began to clip the remaining arrows with the shears to within a few inches of the surface of his armor.

"We're going to have to remove your armor in order to get these other arrows out," she told him but did not wait for permission before nodding to her helpers to begin the process.

 

[Elias]

"Sure thing," he said flatly as she began her work on him. Unsure of where exactly to look, he kept his eyes trained on her. Pretty thing. Confident, too. Not a pause in her actions. If it were ever a concern to begin, Elias could rest assured knowing he was in safe hands.

Improvised treatments in the field from comrades and the not-so-tender methods applied by the staff at the Academy's healing ward were all Elias knew. If he was of a sounder mind, he could appreciate that the "hard way" was still leagues gentler than he'd been accustomed to.

The pain was sharp at first, but by the time the arrow clinked in the thin pan, it had dulled to numbness, and only a faint fluttering, tingling feeling remained.

The Initiate watched her closely until she circled behind him, then absently stared forward again. If Elias heard her, he made no indication of it but allowed the other two medics to strip his armor off without any struggle, but also without being a great deal of help to them.

"Are all field surgeons so young and pretty?"

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Elspeth helped as much as she could with the armor from her present position at his back, halfway leaning over the table the Initiate currently perched and bled upon. While the other two prised the pieces away as quickly and carefully as they could, Elsi held the back plate in place to keep the weight of the metal from pulling on the arrows.

The yet-Dreadlord's next question didn't quite hit home upon its initial ask, so focused was she on her task, "I wouldn't know," Elsi responded distractedly, "I haven't met every field surgeon out there."

One of the Medics smirked and shot her a glance. He was an older gentleman and one she had worked with for some time. She knew his wife and had even met his daughter. His look made her brow furrow and then she realized finally what had actually been said. How very forward and improper. She should not have been surprised at all for it to come from a Dreadlord in training.

"Perhaps not very many my age," she did consign to the fact that she was quite young for how far she'd come in her career. The front plate free, Elsi motioned to the second Medic to take the other side of the back plate and help her slowly, carefully, extract it from Eli's shoulders. The arrows did not give as easily as she was hoping, but she did not shy away from giving it a little extra sharp tug to encourage the plate free.

"Hmf - but being pretty is hardly a qualifier for any field medic."

Off came the plate and one of the more shallow-sunk arrows with it.

 

[Elias]

Elias showed many small glimpses of the power his predecessors wielded. This had made him different from the inheritors that came before him. But the bulk of his strength was the blessing his flame granted upon his body. Immense strength and speed, clarity, and durability to weather debilitating wounds and threshold for pain to push on even with a battered and broken body.

So when the arrow came loose with the steel plate, Elias felt nothing except the sharp barbs tugging and tearing away his skin. The sensation was odd and sent a shiver up his back.

"I suppose," he said tiredly and then turned to the other medic, a man whose age fell between the young surgeon and her older associate. His appearance was remarkable in the sense that his features were so average he could blend into any crowd—were it not for the crescent-shaped scar that snaked on his cheek. "But she is pretty, eh?"

And he continued without waiting for an answer, selfishly prattling to himself as was his manner. "Is there nothing better than a woman with looks and skills?" He said this time to the older gentlemen, then frowned. That question was wasted on him, Elias thought, and he dismissively waved his mud and blood-caked hand at the medic.

"Say, how soon d'you reckon I can return to the front?"

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Elspeth labored over a low, long, and quiet breath as the young man continued speaking to himself, her blue eyes rolling upward under a tired brow. Keeping her mind to her patient's pressing needs and not his conversation, she quickly assessed the other two arrows and determined them both to be concerningly deep.

"Stop speaking," she leaned down, pressing her ear against his back, "take a slow, deep breath for me."

Her eyes widened as she listened.

"Once more."

What on Arethil?

She stood back, moving around to his front once more and lifted a hand to press her forefingers at his neck just over the carotid artery.

How was this Initiate still alive? And talking so utterly casual as he was?

"You will not be going anywhere near the front with that punctured lung. You're going to need surgery to get at least one of the remaining arrows out, if not both," her attention shifted to the other Medics, "prepare the surgery station. Quickly. And get me two more bottles of the healing potion."

 

[Elias]

"Pish. Pack it 'n wrap it."

Just then, unpleasantly so, words spoken from the venomous tongue of Mars Pallatrix rang in his head: If you draw breath, then stand. If you stand, then fight. If you fight—prevail!

"I can still fight," he seethed, curling his fingers into tight fists.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

"Absolutely not."

Elspeth's blue eyes, usually that of a richly deep aquamarine, turned steely at the Initiate's idiotic words.

"You've done your job. More than admirably judging by your extensive wounds. Now you will let me do my job, and I will not hear another word against it or I will report you to the General."

She was greatly confident in the General backing up her cause. She'd performed plenty of miracles for the man and his men in her time working along various battle fronts and garnered herself a healthy amount of respect around the higher ranks. With a heavy sigh she turned back to her cart of supplies and searched around for something.

 

[Elias]

Elias' eyes, also blue, but deep and dark like an oceanic trench, narrowed.

"Good grief, I'm quivering. What's the General meant to do? Report back to my Proctors that I've stepped out of line?" He'd get an earful. But he's been chewed out before. And it'd warrant a demerit. Elias expressed his apathy about a strike on his record by hocking a crimson, phlegmy glob at the ground between his feet. "Job's not done 'til I win or die."

The Initiate pushed off the table and stood straight. Battered and bloodied, Elias towered over the two other men like a two-legged beast. Likewise, he flashed them a killer's glare as they inched closer to keep him seated. The first step Eli took forward, his knee buckled and he nearly collapsed as the world suddenly spun before him. Hadn't the men rushed forward to catch him, the compulsion to do their duty overcoming their fear of him, he would have spilled onto the ground like a trod-upon bug.

"The fuck," Elias hissed as he tried to shrug them away, weakly, to no avail and his voice came out slurred, "Get the fuck—get your fucking hands off of me!"

The last time another man tried to grab and yank Eli about, he'd bashed his teeth in. But how easily they lifted him back onto the table and held him there despite his struggling and cursing.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Elspeth narrowed her eyes, took another deep and leveling breath as the Initiate let his ego get the better of him, and looked down to the syringe in her hand she was presently using to draw a clear liquid out of a bottle. While he fussed she glanced over her shoulder, visually sizing him against her fellow medics, frowned as he spat, and decided to draw a little bit more.

Once the medics had him in hand, she turned, held up the syringe and flicked it twice with her opposite middle finger, gave it a squirt into the air, then moved in.

"Yes, of course, I've heard it all. You're very scary, but this is my triage tent and you-" she stuck the meat of his shoulder with the needle, quickly dispersing its contents, "are my patient."

"And the better you behave, the faster you get better."

She stood back and watched him for a moment, scar-crossed brow lofting as his eyes began to droop.

Elspeth smiled sweetly and waved the bloodied fingers of her free hand at him, "See you in the morning."

 

[Elias]

The injection's effects were quick. Under normal circumstances, Elias had a high resistance to just about any foreign substance. Toxins, phages, poisons... medicines too. Filtering out the bad and good was an automatic process that his magic ran, and something he had tested and studied on himself for years. When his magic was spent? Well, just a drop of ale could knock Eli on his ass.

As a testament to his... something, Elias managed a final: "Fffffuuuck yooouuu. . ." as blackness took him.

And when he woke, several hours later, it was with a startle. Where was he? How long had he blacked out? He asked several rapid questions to himself as he'd been conditioned to. Assess the situation.

Eli attempted to sit upright, but his body refused. An intense, overwhelming pain kept him still, and he let out a quiet but pitiful, guttural cry.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

So vulgar.

Honestly, did these Dreadlord Initiates get no training in manners?

Elspeth and her team set to work, doing everything they were capable of to mend the broken young man and allowing the power of magical healing elixirs to do as much of the rest as they could spare. He was exceptionally battered - gravely so as she would come to find. It seemed the more they tended his wounds, the more it became apparent that there was quite a bit more to him than met the eye.

Especially when one of the triage nurses came to find her after only a few hours to report that he was awake. Astonishing, considering she'd injected enough sedative into him to drop a horse.

But it wasn't until she'd received the regiment roster that things really took a turn. Several soldiers in her tent had taken their last breath, and so part of their care was finding their way back home and to their families. Elspeth was very tired by the time her shift came to an end and a lull settled through the various corners of the medical tents. She thought that perhaps when she first read the name Elias Sirl next to the hand-drawn portrait that she perhaps had nodded off and was dreaming.

She stared at the name and his portrait for was felt like an hour, though was really only a few minutes.

"Doctor," said the Nurse again, "did you hear me? The boy with the punctured lung, he's awake. Is ... is something the matter?"

Elsi felt her own lungs shrivel as a quaking gasp left her lips. Bringing a hand to her face in shock as she continued to stare, she finally looked up at the Nurse, "It's him."

"Sorry Doctor, it's who?"

"My brother."

Tears were stinging at her eyes and she felt like her chest might dissolve. She'd found him - finally found him: the brother she'd missed so terribly much in her youth. One of the reasons she'd devoted her studies and formative years to learning the medical arts. Elspeth had all but given up hope that she'd meet him again, even if the Revolution had changed so many things. Being a Dreadlord was a long and arduous death sentence and she only hoped that the next time she ever saw him wouldn't be at his funeral.

Now here he was, recuperating in her care. The fates and Gods surely meant for this to be.

She inhaled sharply, filling her aching lungs and forcing the steel back into her spine. Quickly wiping at her face, Elspeth stood from her desk, collected herself, cleared her throat and nodded to the Nurse, "I will check on him. Thank you."

A fair bit more tidy now when she stepped in through the curtains of his corner, she was free of her blood-stained smock and looking a bit more presentable though still rather not at all like a noble lady in her Medic uniform. Her expression, however, was completely changed. Gone were the hard and stoic lines from before, replaced now with contained but intense concern and wonder.

Elsi stepped in quietly and took a seat on the chair near his bedside, "You're quite determined aren't you?" She tempted a faint smile, "I don't know how you survived your wounds. Whatever power you hold that kept you here is something special indeed."

 

[Elias]

At his request, an extra pillow was brought to his bed. There was something dreadfully uncomfortable about laying flat on one pillow. Two was perfect. After it was brought, he'd taken a long time to adjust himself into a relatively comfortable position. Then he came to terms with two things: he was incredibly fatigued, and hurt like hell.

When Elspeth arrived before him, he wasn't at all like the cornered beast that had been brought to her operating table. As the eve came, so did a different side of House Sirl's flame-bearer.

Elias quietly regarded her as she sat, watching her closely. Thinking. Didn't know if it was procedure for real doctors to make late visits. Thought it was a job for the nurses.

The boy dryly swallowed and one corner of his mouth mirthlessly quirked up.

After a small pause, he rasped, "I don't know. I reckon... I was in good hands."

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Maybe the sedative hadn't quite worn off yet ... or perhaps time to stew in his pain had given him something to reconsider. Either way, hopefully it meant he was taking his very serious injuries much more seriously.

But she did smile slightly more at his words, grateful to not have to contend with more attitude as was not so terribly uncommon. Often there were only two sides to the tale of a Field Medic's work and as much as she tried to ignore those who fought their efforts, it did truly wear on one after a while. At the end of the day she'd chosen this path and she still meant to help those who needed it, regardless of whether or not they wanted it.

"Maybe so," Elsi stood again with a sigh and moved to the curtain again, leaning out to ask a passing Nurse for water, waiting a few moments, and then stepping back over to his bedside to offer him the cup.

"We've done all we can for you, spared as much healing draught as we could. But you're not well enough to return to the battle field. You've been ordered to return to the Academy as soon as you are able to continue your recovery. I'm sorry," she gently placed her hand on his near shoulder, "I know that's probably not the news you wanted to hear."

 

[Elias]

Though far from tip-top shape and being quite out of it, perhaps his condition wasn't as severe as the operation notes would have one believe as he still had the energy to allow his eyes to fall onto the doctor's rear as she leaned out from between the curtain around his bed. With a blink, his gaze switched back to her face, which he was just as pleased to look upon.

The comment had been made to Eli once that he could be laid to rest but would come back for one more look at a woman.

Elias took the cup with a curt, soldierly nod. He sipped, slowly and carefully as he listened. He held the cup close to his chest, as tightly as he could with his weakened hands, and absorbed the info. A deep breath. Pain. Then a shaky exhalation.

"I've been through worse, you know," he drank deeply from the cup to empty it, then leaned back into his pillows and stared daggers up at the tent's ceiling. "I can still fight. Just need time."

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

He still didn't seem to understand the severity of his wounds. What healing potions they'd used for him had been focused on his lungs. He still had quite a list of injuries that Elspeth wasn't sure would heal completely ... regardless of how long they were given to recover. That leg, for instance...

But these types didn't like hearing that. Most Dreadlords seemed to be of the mind that no matter what the state of their body, they were expected to fulfill their role. What exactly was that role now, post Revolution, she wondered. Elsi's smile faded as she thought on all this, her gaze remaining fixated on the young man across from her as she carefully retook the seat by his bedside.

Her brother. Her twin. Her other half.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected to feel upon meeting him face to face again and it was hard sifting through the many competing emotions and questions. So many questions for him. How to even broach the subject? Did he remember her? Did he ever think about her and the life he'd been taken from? Did he want to return to the family? What would a return mean for her and her standing as the next in line to lead House Sirl?

"You know I've met several Academy Initiates working as a Field Medic. You're all quite remarkable - to be able to do what you do at your age. You must be fearless to want so badly to get back out there."

 

[Elias]

What was that, now? Praise? Even bedridden and hurt beyond what an ordinary man could withstand, she still thought he was a marvel, eh? Elias couldn't be surprised. It was him, after all. Was there ever a more impressive specimen?

The Initiate sat a bit more upright, "That's right. I could stare Death in its face, unflinching."

It was true, mostly. The fear of death had been beaten out of them. Most of them. And Elias never had to contend with the fear of pain.

But there was another fear. Of returning to the Academy with nothing to show. No success to report. To return broken and disgraced. What an embarrassment it would be. Never returning at all would be preferable to facing that kind of shame.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

"Is that so?" Elsi frowned, brows lofting slightly in a sense of trepidation for the conversation to come.

"Do you..." she blinked, breaking her gaze to look down to her hands that for the first time in a long time were restless with nerves, "do you not have anything to live and fight for? Friends? Loved ones? ...family?"

 

[Elias]

Elias groaned and leaned his shoulders back into his pillows. He looked up at the tent's ceiling with furrowed brows and a set jaw

"Didn't know medical aid came with a complementary psych evaluation," he spat.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

Her frown deepened as she looked up.

"I'm not - that's not what I -" and then her brow furrowed.

"I'm a Doctor but I'm not that kind of Doctor. I'm just ... curious. Trying to have a conversation with you to distract you from the pain."

To learn more about you, brother. I know next to nothing.

"If I've overstepped I apologize and I'll leave you be."

 

[Elias]

"That's all, huh? Keep my mind off the pain? If you've met so many of us, then you know pain isn't anything to us," Elias glanced at her from the corners of his eyes, then looked back up with a sigh.

"Normally I need a few drinks in me before I start feeling chatty." Not that he knew what it was like to be drunk. But it was a social thing, right? Drinks and talk, then a walk back to the nearest room. Didn't talk much after that.

Elias let a long pause fall between them. Flexed his jaw twice, but he wasn't actually upset anymore.

"I got my pride, I guess," he said to answer her previous question.