Chương 87: Jezalin's Squirt

Ranin approached his Captain at Arms, saying, "What casualties—" just as a beam of light landed as a fully formed Jezalin who assessed the scene calmly. The ice. The scars in the earth from Darkness ripping away the Royal Xhadon. The leftover blood on both Zhadin and the huntress. She turned and leveled Ranin with a look that made him wince. Maybe he needed to change his bet with Brock. With Jezalin in the mix? Bartos's chances were looking slim. Not even Tobias had been successful in making them share.

He sighed, defeated before gesturing, "Your patients are down there. She's already been given a healing potion and just needs to sleep off the rest." As it was, she looked like she was starting to nod off against the practically glowing redcap. She certainly had… taste. Jezalin nodded, quickstepping down to assess the rest of the group. Ranin had kept her appraised of the situation in brief messages, and the teens were definitely looking worse for wear.

For several, this was the most violence they had ever witnessed.

"Lady Jezalin, over here, please!" She answered the call of the young pixie teen and several others, noting Ixion's pallid, waxy complexion to check on next as she was led to a young man, a winter pixie that still had blood in his hair.

"Please, please, anything, anything at all, my lady," begged the young girl. Jezalin kept her smile in place as she began with a scan to assess the damage. The students and several of the Guard waited with bated breath for the spell to finish, though in truth, she knew the answer. The light faded and she kept her tone as calm and soothing as possible, just as she was taught. Finished, she smiled.

"You did well, treating the wound as you did. The infection is well under control. I will burn the rest of it out, but your body is already healing." A flash of hope lit up the boy's face.

"You mean I'll be able to see again?" Jezalin noted the tension in both the boy and his friends, all waiting for an answer she could not give. Gently, she said, "I cannot reverse the damage done." The young man hissed, his fist clenched in anguish and rage. Several of the others joined while Jezalin began with cleaning up the wounds and burning out the infection. The young girl spoke up, her voice small.

"You said the treatment worked?" Jezalin nodded, the action not pulling her from her trance.

"But… how?" This would be a more complex question to answer. The boy spoke bitterly, "What point was a treatment that clearly didn't do anything." Sensing their rage, Jezalin added, "Be glad that it is your eyes alone that have been lost. Had the infection progressed, it would have entered your brain quickly. Even if I had managed to save your life, it would have addled your mind beyond repair." Silence fell on the whispering group. Jezalin focused back on healing the bitter young man.

The young pixie girl spoke, her tone lacking the hope her words projected.

"Then I suppose the greenling was good for something, after all." Jezalin's magic stuttered, her attention pulled away from the delicate healing work by the topic change. Another teen, this one a shifter on the brink of a forced shift by the way she paced, her skin breaking out in patches of fur before disappearing, spoke in an agitated tone, "Was she really when she was the fucking problem? That psychopath didn't start punishing us with ancient ways until she fucking showed up."

This sentiment was echoed by several other teens, riling them up, the air palpable with tension. Annoyed, Jezalin said lightly, "I suppose then that you are also at fault for being kidnapped." All of the teens froze, most incredulous. Giving them a saccharine smile, Jezalin noted, "After all, he wouldn't have been blinded if you'd never been kidnapped." The shifter snapped, her growl breaking into her voice and making it barely intelligible.

"We barely escaped with our fucking lives and you—""So did she," Jezalin pointed out calmly, pulling her hands from the blind boy. Her magic was stirring, a desire to protect the huntress at all costs solidifying in her gut and breaking her normally impeccable concentration.

"Fuck off," growled out the girl, her jaw lengthening and shortening as she fought off her shift.

"She was clearly a fucking plant by the fell to break us." Ah. Jezalin understood the situation now. One of the other teens muttered, "I still don't understand why a greenling was there in leathers in the middle of the Wylds."

"Because she—" the words were lost as the teen took off in a run, shifting into her jaguar form as she did and racing off. Jezalin, still attempting to regain control of her raging magics, stayed put. Likely, the girl needed the time to run off the excess energy as her shifted form before she could calm down and be rational once more. Instead, the fallen said, "Because the greenling is a huntress working for the queen. You were rescued because she was able to spy for us.

To tell us their number, their power, and their direction and distance." Dead silence. Then— The blinded boy gritted his teeth, his fists clenching.

"Why… if she was a spy, if she was on our side, why didn't she step in? She just… just fucking sat there, at their fucking feet, while… the last thing I'll have ever seen will be her kneeling like the gods damned coward she is." Jezalin said pleasantly, "Now there's no need to be dramatic, Serlyn. If you mate well, you'll be able to see through your mate's eyes." If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. This stupefied him.

"You gambled and lost. Nothing more, nothing less." Her eyes slowly drifted up to the cliff-face where she knew that the little huntress waited still, hopefully asleep by this point.

"I have to wonder how many of these punishments she has seen acted out to have been able to do nothing."

"What?" asked one of the girls. Jezalin smiled at her.

"You all experienced something terrible. You all experienced the ancient ways being forced upon you by fey far stronger than yourselves, and anything other than swift, blind obedience was punished. And now your experience is over. You'll return to your lives where you are no longer one of the weak ones, helpless to defend yourself. You'll have your crests and powers and parents to hide behind." Her eyes slowly slid back to where the huntress was.

"… but a greenling's color never fades." Slowly, she scanned over each of them until her point sunk in. Then she nodded slowly, more to herself than them. Not all of them would take the lesson to heart. For some, there was no way to convince them that others mattered just as much as they did. For the rest… A faint glimmer of something akin to hope sprouted in her chest. Well. These seeds weren't expected to sprout for several years at least. The rest? Those results should show sooner. All the better.

Because every time she saw the badass pixie warrior, her interest only seemed to grow. Whether that interest turned romantic or her crush remained one-sided was yet to be answered. She knew which she wanted, but even if everything worked out and they fulfilled these desires, then the question became whether or not it would remain casual. Staring down at her gold mana lines still pulsing with uneven light, she was starting to fear that it might not.

The sound of a raging wildcat yowling came from the cliff where the huntress was followed swiftly by a boom of power of Ranin's ice magic. The jaguar shifter. Jezalin stood, her body moving without her conscious command of it. Fascinating. She had heard tell of this phenomenon, but this was her first experience with it herself—her magic was moving her.

Intending to see this through for the pure curiosity of it, she was mildly surprised when she quickstepped back up to where Ranin had been— Only to come face to face with the scowling, exhausted warrior herself. The huntress's forest eyes were defiant and flashing in anger at Jezalin's appearance. Jezalin was then further intrigued when her body did an abrupt hormonal about-face from ice to heat. Intriguing, these instincts.

Beyond her were the jaguar shifter that Jezalin immediately realized she was aiming for, protected by Ranin. The huntress heaved an annoyed sigh.

"No, you are not killing her." Jezalin wouldn't have killed her, per say… no, upon reconsideration, she might have.

"Very well." Maiming it was. The huntress shifted, crossing her arms and glaring just a little harder. Silently asking her to back down. The thing was… she didn't want to back down. Fascinating. She genuinely didn't. She wanted violent retribution over a crime she wasn't entirely certain was committed, over the mere possibility that the jaguar had attempted to take out her rage on the badass huntress before her. More questions bubbled up in the back of her mind before one finally spilled out her lips.

"Why protect her?" She growled, the adorableness of the action cutting through the tension as the woman snapped out, "For fuck's sake, I've been trying, for days, to protect them all, and frankly, I'm fucking tired of it. I couldn't speak my fucking mind before but by the gods I will now. Back. Off." The simmer of her magic in her veins went from rage to lust so quickly, she genuinely blushed.

The furious pixie then turned back to the kneeling, defiant teen, pointing at her and said, "I know I told you and Serlyn everything you needed to survive in the gods damned ancient ways, because I spent that first day making sure every single fucking one of you had the chance to hear me. What the fuck was I supposed to do, fight them? May I remind you that they didn't even fucking bother with shackles for me because even shackled, you have more fucking magic than I do? I didn't see you save his ass, either!"

"I tried—""And so did I, but no one ever fucking listens to the greenling."

"They gave you their oath of protection—""And the minute I went against it, I would lose the only leverage I had. It required me to act in service, and the moment I didn't, the whole thing was violated. I would have lived if it turned into an all-out fight with us caught between the shadowfolk and the Lord Prince Commander's party, but some of those kids are only fourteen. They wouldn't have." In a way, it was beautiful, watching the huntress's words finally get through to the girl.

The girl's shoulders slumped with the weight of a world she was not prepared to bear, and finally, those instincts moving Jezalin's body on their own suddenly vanished. The threat was gone. Over. Fascinating. To have been possessed by the Whims themselves was an experience few fey could boast of. Influenced, yes, but not possessed. Still, studying the exhaustion of the huntress, she still found herself compelled to approach her. Only this time the compulsion was her own psyche and not the Whims of Fate.

The huntress shifted to eye her suspiciously over her shoulder.

"You're right. It was a bad idea."

"But a good offer." Kneeling down and smiling softly at the way the proud woman bristled, she said, "I know already of the injuries sustained, but I confess it is you I am concerned about. Your body is not meant to be pushed so hard." The fierce woman scoffed.

"Obviously." Jezalin nodded and structured her offer carefully, taking into account everything she'd learned about the woman in front of her.

"I would like to offer you sleep. Restful, dreamless sleep, where you won't wake until I either end the sleep, or your body is done." Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Like you did after Riverlands?" Jezalin's lips quirked up.

"No, that was a deep healing sleep. This will be regular sleep." She paused to nod towards her hound.

"I believe your beast is one you trust. If you name the rest, I will ensure only those you name touch you. You will wake if you leave the range of my magic." Behind many layers of suspicion was a small flash of want before it was buried. In that moment, Jezalin realized two things—that there may indeed come a day when the pixie trusted her to accept the gift for what it was, and that without a doubt, she suffered the night terrors that Jezalin had suspected.

The huntress shook her head, her tone now curt instead of cutting.

"No need. I'll be fine. There's no need for me to linger, anyway, not with Gloomwood right there." Jezalin nodded but Ranin cut in, "Mystva, you were supposed to resupply—" All it took was a stern look from the woman, and he fell silent. She dropped her eyes with a scowl, kicking at the dirt before saying quietly, "Just keep moving, and then be back in Everwinter by the first of autumn?" From there, a short discussion was had about logistics.

With her magic no longer rioting, Jezalin knew she was no longer a risk and could continue healing as she had been. She lingered anyway, watching the huntress. Less than ten minutes later, her party was ready to cross the boundary into the gorge, the huntress assuring Ranin with a stern glare that they would be safer in Gloomwood, her eagerness to be as far from the teens as possible palpable. Gathered together like they were, tension rose when the teen sudden jumped to her feet, calling out to the huntress, "Hey!"

The woman, who had been just about to mount her steed, turned with wary reluctance. The girl nodded to indicate her head.

"That mark. When did you get that?" The huntress blinked a few times, her fingers reaching and touching her forehead where the goddess's divine mark shone brightly. Suspiciously, she asked, "This mark?" The teen nodded, a seriousness to her otherwise innocent query that seemed almost incongruent. The huntress then scowled.

"Meaning you haven't seen it the last three days?" Taken aback, the teen said, "Of course not." Then she hesitated.

"It's… divine, isn't it?" The huntress swore so colorfully that Jezalin was momentarily impressed before she said, "I should have known."

"… I'm confused. You had it before?" Ranin stepped forward, "You mean she didn't have it?"

"No! I already said no! It just appeared like ten minutes ago!" Ranin muttered, "More like thirty." The huntress muttered darkly to herself before saying curtly to the teen, "Yes, I had it before, my gods damn prayer was answered, and I didn't even fucking know it." She turned on her heel, jumping into the saddle in a graceful acrobatic leap while muttering darkly about how she needed to get herself a flying monkey, and started off down the trail down the cliff face and into the Gloomwood.

Her party raced after her, the redcap in particular whooping as he gave chase. The teen stared off at where the huntress had disappeared over the edge of the cliff on her elk steed, a contemplative frown on her face. Jezalin watched her carefully, practically able to read the thoughts on her face when the girl's jaw went slack with realization. Jezalin sighed. Yet again, it would now fall to her to make sure Athereon's identity remained anonymous.

And yet again, she had to wonder how much longer they could even try.