Update: I’ve broken 100 B.O.S.S.es! Rage of the Cursed is 99, 100, 101, and 102. Crazy!
This’ll be the last RoC for a bit. I’m not sure what’s next on the menu, but when I come back to it’ll be a different time fox Xallion. As always, feel free to let me know what you think of the story so far.
Rage of the Cursed, Part 4 — Doctor
Xallion slogged back to the camp, clenching a fist around two dangling chains. K’rros followed close behind tapping the back of his axe on his shoulder. Ane is going to be angry.
He opened his hand to reveal two Rhialnin standard issue tags. The cold tin bit into his palm, he held one up, noting the etching. “Harold Graves, why did you die today?”
Blood ran down Xallion’s cheek, the open wound stung in the cold air. Had he been human when it happened, he would have lost the eye. Harold’s crossbow bolt would leave a scar, reminding him for the rest of his life.
K’ross reached over and pinched Xallion’s good cheek. The L’kavrikan babbled something in old tongue. The disorientation and encroaching weakness that came with reverting to human, sapped his urge to complain.
“<So you’re a Cursed, huh?>” K’rros said again.
Xallion nodded, reaching up to push away the pinching hand.
K’rros laughed. “<Should have known, Wolven don’t wear shiny armor.>”
Xallion raised the tag to his cheek. The cold tag helped the swelling go down, but did nothing to stop the bleeding.
“<That’ll leave a good one,>” K’rros said, clapping a hand on his chest. “<You’re no adult if you don’t have a scar on your face.>”
“<Shut up,>” Xallion said. Translating made his head hurt.
K’rros shrugged and walked into the camp clearing. Ane hopped down from a tree branch and hurried to Xallion. “You’re hurt?”
“A scratch,” he said.
“This was made by a crossbow bolt. The bruise goes all the way to your cheek. You were shot?”
Xallion nodded and offered over the bloody tags. “Two Casualties. Sorry.”
Ane looked down at the tags and sighed. “It happens. But why did you turn back so soon? You could have healed a bit better first?”
“I didn’t want to be a wolf anymore,” Xallion said, clenching his jaw. “Ane. I lost control. I… fed.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, took a deep breath and slapped him hard on his bad cheek. A spray of blood splattered to the snow covered ground. Xallion didn’t so much as flinch, but it hurt.
“You know better than that,” Ane said. “You’re better than that. If you do something unthinkable, you face it head on. You don’t mope around about it, or else it happens again.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Let’s have Rhyys clean you up. We found some medicine at—”
Kross stepped between them and clapped a hand full of dirty snow against Xallion’s face. He yowled in surprise but K’rros held him at the neck and shoulder.
Xallion sputtered against the snow. “What are you— <Stop!>”
“<It’s good for you. It’ll set the wound. Good soil around here, so it’ll stop the infection too.>”
Ane watched in shocked surprise. “He’s… applying first aid?”
Rhyys approached, holding his staff tightly against him. “Xallion? Is everything allright?”
“<He’ll be just fine.>” K’rros said. He turned to Rhyys and flew into a tirade of old tongue.
“Oh? I see. You suffered a face wound? He says this is the best treatment. You’ll need stitches too.”
“Wait. He’s a doctor?” Ane raised a brow.
Rhyys translated for him. K’rros grinned at Ane. “<I play doctor too. I will show you later. I like strong women.>”
Xallion scowled at him. Ane turned to Rhyys, who cleared his throat. “He’s flirting with you. I assume I should discourage him?”
“Yes. Please.” Ane folded her arms across her chest.
Xallion took the moment of distraction to slip away, gasping. “<Stop. No need stitches.>”
Rhyys chuckled. “Aw. He’s like a puppy trying to avoid a bath.”
“Rhyys, stuff it,” Xallion said. “I’m not letting him get near me with anything sharp. He’d probably make the scar bigger or something. Besides I can heal well, even as a human.”
Rhyys took a moment to explain. K’rros grinned. <No stitches? My kind of guy.>”
Rhyys leaned close to Xallion. “Oh right, you changed back in front of him? And he responded well to it?”
Xallion glanced over at K’rros, who clapped his hands around Ane’s hips, hoisting her over his shoulder.
“Rhyys! Tell him I’m not interested.” Ane kicked and struggled. “No! Bad! My vows!”
Xallion stormed over to him, resting a hand on his sword. “<No touch. She mine.>”
K’rros looked back at Xallion, considering.
Rhyys smiled knowingly. “Is that so, Xallion?”
“H—hey. It got him to stop didn’t it?”
Ane peered back at him. “Why, what did he say?”
Xallion scratched his cheek. “I said, you’re m—my companion. I think.”
K’rros set her down and gave her a gentle shove towards Xallion. He caught her handily. Even though it’ll never happen. She’s Cerenish. He moved her away, slow and polite.
“Thanks,” she said glancing back. “I shudder to think what he had in mind for me.”
K’rros widened his grin. “<Lucky guy. A strong slap means good—>”
“Enough,” Xallion said.
Rhyys sniffed at the air, and called forth a spell. It lead him to the bloody tags. He stooped over and ran a thumb over them. “Two casualties? Rhialn soldiers.”
“One of them got me with a crossbow bolt. I lost my temper and ripped out one’s throat. K’rros killed the other one… on my command.”
Rhyys narrowed his sightless eyes. “Four hours of meditation.”
“Y—yes, Rhyys.” Xallion offered a wary glance to Ane.
“As Loki,” Rhyys said.
“No buts. If you want to control this part of yourself you need to face it. Remember, I spoke up for you. If not for me, they would have put you down like a wild beast. Show me how right I am for doing so.” He softened his glare. “Besides, I’m only throwing you a bone.”
“Really Rhyys?” Xallion said, muttering.
Rhyys clapped an arm around K’rros’ shoulder. “<You know how to clean a deer? I’m starving.>”
“<Yep, though they’re better raw.>”
“<It may be only you and I eating today. Seeing as Xallion already ate and Ane doesn’t eat meat.>”
K’rros laughed. “<Oh, that’s good. I can eat one on my own. As long as I get the eyeballs, they’re better than grapes.>”
Rhyys chuckled. “<They’re all yours. I’ll be happy with a slice of flank.>”
Ane let out a tired sigh. “Do I even want to know?”
“You really don’t,” Rhyys said.