39 Ymiden 722
"Balthazar!" A familiar voice called out from behind him just before the rest of his senses warned him of Lyanna's approach. He'd seen her helping as best she could during the fight but expected her to be on the deck trying to trick other sailors out of their trophies. She came down the same steps he'd taken and stopped beside him. Lyanna glanced around at the injured who'd ended up beneath the deck to recover. "Robin might have pointed out to me that I could help you down here."
"What can you do?" Balthazar asked with a gesture around the room.
"Enough to make me look good. I've had to patch myself up after some scrapes and falls." Lyanna said simply before moving over to a sailor who had a large bruise on his side and a bleeding gash slightly above it. Balthazar shook his head slightly and proceeded forward towards the slowly dying sounds of the man who'd gone overboard and been mauled. He trusted Lyanna enough to know she would tend to the injured as best as she could. At least she'd have some experience, all of what he could do stemmed from magic.
He arrived at the back of the ship's interior to find that a small cot had been moved into place and a few of the sailor's friends were surrounding him. They struggled in vain to try and stop his bleeding and to mend his injuries but they were not making progress. "Move aside!" Balthazar said in a commanding voice as he reached the panicking sailors. They were quick to obey just out of the sheer authority that they perceived. Balthazar wasted no time putting a hand onto the sailor's chest and casting the power of Vri's mark over the body. All at once the man stopped shaking, his body went slack and his eyes glossed over. An appearance indistinguishable from death overcame him and it would hold him for five trials. Long enough to get him to the Order for better healing, though that would fall on his allies.
No part of Balthazar's deal with the captain said that he would be able to save everyone, but the mage wouldn't sit above deck sorting through trophies while people died beneath his feet.
"Once you get back to land, get him to the Order as quickly as possible. Explain that he is not dead, he has been put into a trance by a marked of Vri. It will keep him stable but he will not look better than this." Balthazar explained as he took a step back to examine the man's body for any injuries that had not been mended. "He will be like this for five trials and when it wakes, if you haven't gotten him to the Order, I doubt he will survive." Noticing that the bleeding had not entirely stopped, Balthazar pressed his hand against the sailor's chest again. A trill passed and the purple flames of Lovalus engulfed the sailor suddenly.
By now the captain had come below deck to see how the injured were doing but he didn't immediately make his way back to the sailor with the worst of the injuries. Balthazar only knew it was him because he heard the familiar cadence of the captain's steps. Yet as soon as the captain saw the purple glow of the flames at the back of the ship he rushed over.
"What in the Beneath are you doing?" The captain asked in a stern, unamused voice as he noticed the fire surrounding the body of the sailor but not spreading.
"Healing him." Balthazar said in a stern enough voice to shake the captain and other sailors from their surprise. It was difficult but not impossible to focus on answering questions while controlling the flames. The wounds were too severe for Balthazar's ability to mend fully. Even with the magic, it was likely that the sailor would lose his leg to whatever surgery the Order could perform. It was even more likely he would never use his left hand again. Yet the flames healed what they could. Small cuts and deeper bite marks sealed themselves in front of the eyes of the lingering crew. Broken bones that could shifted close enough back together for Balthazar to feel that they would heal in time.
Trills turned into bits and Balthazar maintained the flame but he knew with more certainty that it would not do everything. When all he could do was done, he removed his hands from the body which still looked as dead as it would have been if he'd done nothing. "I've done what I can. The rest will have to be left to the Order. Five trials from now when the trance I've put him in ends, his life is in your hands. Do not, let him die." Balthazar said with an almost angry look towards the crew and captain. He was more upset that he hadn't been faster to help the man when he fell overboard than anything else."I will find out if you do. He fought for you, he deserves to be protected now."
With that said, the mage picked up a nearby rag to wipe the blood from his hands.
"We'll get 'im to the Order. 'e's was a good lad." The captain said. It wasn't clear if he was afraid of Balthazar or not but they'd all seen what he could do- or at least a part of it, when the sea wolves attacked. They knew they didn't want a target on their boat. Balthazar just wanted to be sure they got the man to the Order. It made him miss the trials when he could have called Yeva, but he'd not heard from her in a long time. He assumed she was getting on well with her life, but he knew he would need to find another friend with a habit for healing.
"Thank you." Balthazar said quietly in response before moving passed the crew to see how Lyanna was doing. She was bandaging wounds when Balthazar found her but she didn't seem confident enough in herself to try and stitch them or to try and set any potentially broken bones. Balthazar didn't have the knowledge she needed but he had the practice leading to get her out of her own head. He spent the next few breaks with her, coaching and advising as best he could with the ideas that came to mind. It was enough to push her a step beyond her natural skills, but not enough to make her a master of the craft. No one had wounds as severe as the one who fell overboard. No one occupied Balthazar's mind as fully.
It took the rest of the trial to get back to shore and when they reached land, Balthazar helped the sailors carry the wounded man off the ship on the blood stained cot that they'd been using. Once they were firmly on the land he waited with the body while the sailors went off to find the nearest branch of the Order they could, or whatever healer was nearest to them. Robin and Lyanna took to carrying down the body of the northern sea wolf that the captain was using to pay them and other members of the fledgling Black Cats were waiting to help move it. Most of them already had ideas of how Balthazar should use their prize but the mage couldn't quite stop thinking about the sailor.
His final words with the captain were brief and made all the more so brief by the arrival of healers intent on taking the wounded sailor back to a hut that they could use work with him in more sanitary conditions. The captain thanked him and Balthazar thanked the captain but the unease persisted. He did not have control over life and death but it had been some time since he felt unable to save someone. He didn't like it. He didn't like the feeling of control beginning to slip away from him. It was the captain's crew this time, but if he wanted to lead the Black Cats in the way he felt they needed to be lead, it was only a matter of time.
It was not hard to find someone in Havardr who was willing to fashion a trophy out of the carcass of the sea wolf. It was the urging of the craftsmen that had drawn Balthazar to the location in the first place. Normally hunting wasn't his focus but monster hunting... could be good. The craftsmen were determined to fashion a cloak out of the sea wolf's hide but Balthazar made sure that the bones would be returned to him when he agreed. He could see plenty of use for the bones in the future if he continued working with his forge in Haven. He left the meat for the vulture-like craftsmen to do with as they wanted but he insisted that he got as many bones and teeth from the creature as they could harvest.
It was a hard trial and an even harder night as the Black Cats took shelter in one of the many yurts that made up the village. They'd been told that they would need to stay another night to give the craftsmen time for their work and none of the Black Cats saw reason to argue. They were content because there was no shortage of people willing to share space with them. Either to get into the good graces of someone as renowned in this place as Balthazar or to celebrate the successful hunt that had passed- every offer came with a hidden intention. Balthazar saw through it better than most. It didn't change the offers that he accepted. His people needed somewhere to rest and if they were safe, he was content. Small victories were better than none at all. He had places to be but he could travel with his steed faster than his companions and they were competent enough to follow his instructions and meet him where he expected them to be.
Balthazar did not sleep well. He found himself walking around in the cold of the night with his vision freely allowing him to move. A mutation born out of an extended period in his life was always there to remind him where he operated the best- in the dark. Shadows and skullduggery were never things he considered his domain, but he was beginning to think that the best path might be an indirect one. Lyanna noticed him pacing around Havardr at one point and came out to try and provide some small comfort. The difference between her and Robin was that she did not understand why Balthazar held onto what had happened so much. Life was not some precious thing to her. She turned in not long after coming out and Balthazar found himself still sitting there and staring at the stars.
He would never be a good healer, but perhaps it would be worth it to learn some of the gaps his magic could not fill. Then again, maybe he didn't need to do it all himself. He had a boy who wanted to be a knight. He had a woman who was a proud thief. Maybe he needed to find a healer to make the Black Cats whole? Honor, courage, and endurance. Balthazar let out a deep breath and tried to cast the thoughts from his mind so he could get some comfort but he wouldn't. He could clear his mind better than most, but some things didn't go away.
Some things never went away.
