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∞ Ephias Sagine

The rumpus block was a small, claustrophobic space like the rest of his hive. There was only enough room for two chairs and a single side table, thanks to the half dozen or so bookcases crammed up against the walls. They had been stuffed haphazardly with books, papers, discs, potted plants, and pots with ex-plants. More books, files, and other clutter was strewn across the floor. Much of it had been recently shoved aside in order to make a path from the entry hall. Between two cases a sliver of a window looked out into the street. The blinds were have drawn.

Ephias perched on a footstool, borrowed from the nutrition block, draining the contents of a bloody rag into the metal bowl in his lap. Across from him was Etsali, seated in a comfortable reading chair; his favourite reading chair actually, which was now unfortunately stained orange. He supposed he could live with that. It was a nice shade of orange. Just not so nice in that it came at his friend's expense.

It could have been a lot worse. Etsali had taken minimal damage; the wound in her shoulder was a little worrying, but the laceration on her arm would heal up quickly. Theoretically at least. Ephias eyed his handiwork, the corners of his mouth heralding a frown. He had dressed Etsali's wounds to the best of his ability, using reference when needed, but he was no doctor. In fact, the only experience he had was tending to his own injuries or Wolly's and that had never been anything serious. Well... mostly. The sheep had taken a beating during their time in the caves beneath Chittentown. Now though, there was no trace of injury; it was like it had never happened.

Wolly lay on top of Etsali's feet, dozing against her legs. Whatever issue he had once taken with the thief had since dissipated. Since Ephias had settled on having her as a friend, he chose to pretend her occupation was anything but what it was. It kept their relationship simpler. Ephias at least was glad for it.

“Just try not to move your shoulder too much,” Ephias told Etsali, putting the bowl and rag on the floor. “Especially early on in the healing process. Without stitches you could-you could risk getting a b-bad scar. We want to prevent that.” Scooting the stool back, he rose to his feet with a sigh. He left bloody prints on the wood.

“I'm going to get cleaned up,” he said, showing his hands. His fingers were somewhat clean from the water, but he was orange up past his wrists. “I'll make some food afterwards. You're probably—”

He was cut off by a sudden knocking sound; specifically, a knocking sound from his front door. He turned to it, stared a moment, then looked back to Etsali. His brow creased in puzzlement. “You said you weren't followed?” Of course not. Her opponent had been knocked out. It was probably just a package or one of his neighbours stopping by. Neither seemed particularly likely.

Hesitant, Ephias cross into the entry hall. He was about to open the door when he saw the blood staining his hands. Hastily he wiped them onto the front of his pants. When they were dry, he grabbed the handle and twisted. He pulled the door open a few inches.

“How...?” He never finished the question. He flung the door open all the way. Before him stood Keionx, bloodied and leaning on her sword. “Holy s**t.” Personal boundaries temporarily forgotten, Ephias swooped in to help support the bedraggled orange-blood. With one arm around her side, he guided her indoors. “Come in, quick.”

As they passed through the doorway and into the hall, Ephias saw Etsali. Suddenly he froze. The logical part of his mind kicked in. Wait a minute.

Keionx stopped mid threatening stagger, shocked. Ephias had never, in all her acquaintance with him, raised his voice. She watched, confused, as he placed a chair in the opposite room.

Numbly, she obeyed, her body traitorously grateful to actually not be fighting. She held the sides of the chair to keep herself upright, any protests she might have made silenced by the no-nonsense look in Ephias' eyes.

She watched him go, her eyes lingering on his location for several moments even when he was out of view. ”What...” she said, the emotion in her voice undefinable as anything other than negative, ”Did thou do to him, Etsali?”

Keionx gripped the chair, shaking with repressed rage as she wanted – really wanted – to leap from the chair and punch Etsali in her lying, filth-spewing chest. Not very heroic, she knew, but what did that matter? She couldn't get out of the chair, anyway and if she attempted a charge she knew – almost for certain – that she would trip over poor Wolly in the process. So, she could only grind her teeth and wish. ”ME?! Ruin EVERYTHING?!” she snarled, ”Thou art the one that has ruined it all!” even as she said it, she knew it was not true. Her lusus had ruined some things, her brother had ruined some other things, and her closest, dearest, most highly regarded friends had ruined the rest. Keionx's life was in a shambles, and now apparently so was this part of it. However, unlike those other things, Etsali was completely stab-able and hatable. ”Don't you ever get tired of it?! Don't you ever feel any shame?! You don't, do you, you lying, scurrilous cur...”

And then she did something completely unexpected - she burst into tears. It really was all ruined, wasn't it? She bit back her sobs, wiped her face on her sleeve, and hoped to hide the tears from view.

∞ Ephias Sagine

Immediately after entering the nutrition block, Ephias went to the fridge and leaned his head against the door. The metal felt cool against his skin, a calming influence over his turbulent thoughts. He needed a moment to think and come to terms with the situation—not long, just a moment. Closing his ears to the voices just in the other room, Ephias tried to concentrate.

In the front half of his tiny hive, he had two volatile trolls; two trolls that he would easily call his best friends yet they were at odds with each other. It did not take much imagination to guess at what had happened. Ephias was fully aware of Etsali's tendency to collect things, as well as Keionx's larger-than-life heroism. Paired together the two were bound to clash. Thinking optimistically, maybe it was all just a misunderstanding, something he could help resolve. If Etsali had taken something, then perhaps he could convince her to return it. But judging from the state the two trolls were in... No, somehow he had to keep them from each other's throats.

He could not do that from the nutrition block.

Leaving the fridge, Ephias hurried around the kitchen, grabbing everything he needed: another bowl, more rags, a few water bottles, and the rest of the first aid kid beneath the sink. For Etsali's injuries he had been able to get away with simply sanitising and wrapping up the wounds. Keionx was in much worse condition. As he left the nutrition block, juggling his armload, it occurred to him that Etsali had done that. Keionx was in the state she was in because of Etsali. The realisation made his blood pusher clench.

Going down the hallway, Ephias was silent. He maintained his silence even as he approached Keionx. Setting the supplies down on the floor, he looked the orangeblood over, trying to decide where to start. There was so much blood, it was hard to tell where it was all coming from. It had been a miracle that she had been able to stay conscious, let alone walk to his hive. He chewed his lip. It would be a miracle if he could help her...

Maybe not a miracle but he did have the next best thing. His gaze went to his wrist. The armband. He had completely forgotten. He wished he had thought of that earlier, but then again maybe it was better that he hadn't. If he had used all its energy on Etsali then he would be stuck mending Keionx by hand.

Grabbing one of the water bottles, Ephias rolled it across the floor behind him, towards Wolly. “G-give that to Etsali. She needs to stay hy-hydrated,” he said, voice curt. He was not sure he had enough of a handle on his temper to speak to her directly at the moment. He turned his attention back to Keionx. “Hold still. Don't freak out.”

Standing over her, he touched two fingers against the armband. A soft glow began to emit from the red centrepiece. The light fell over Keionx, and tingled with warmth. Slowly, the worst of her injuries began to seal.

“How's that?” Ephias asked, when the light dimmed.

∞ Ephias Sagine

Ephias' only reply came in the form of a curt nod. Moving mechanically, he set about cleaning and dressing Keionx's remaining wounds. There was little left for him to do thanks to the healing power of the artefect, but even so he worked without pause. Though his face did not show it, there was a tightness in his movements that suggested a quiet fury. In the silence, the action gave him time to address his feelings and allow for his temper to cool. Wrapping the last of the cuts on Keionx's arms, he found himself calm once more. He handed the second water bottle to Keionx.

“So,” he began, getting to his feet. He crossed over to the hallway, where he could clearly see both of the orangebloods. Folding his arms, he leaned against the door frame. “I have two v-very dear friends in my hive, both bloody and apparently familiar w-with each other. Would either of you care t-to explain what happened?” He looked from one to the other, expression flat.

Keionx took the water bottle gratefully and wasted no time in drinking deeply... ahhh, water! Such a wonderful thing! It flowed nicely down her throat and soothed some of the parched heat and dryness that came of adventuring and getting the crap beaten out of her. She really could appreciate water, now, especially after... That incident. In the caves. Deep below the desert...

She was busy swallowing said blessed potion of life, so she couldn't answer Ephias right away. So she nearly choked when Etsali gave her... version... of events. She sputtered angrily for a moment as she got her breathing under control.

”T-twas a reasonable expectation, that you would deserve it!” she snarled acidly, leaning forward viciously in the chair. If Ephias wasn't so clearly and dangerously in the way, she would have charged at Etsali and shown her exactly how right she was right then and there, honorable fight or not.

But what shreds of tattered honor and dignity she had left, as well as her respect for Ephias and his very clear opinion on the two of them fighting, held her back. Barely. ”Thou stealest, and liest, and pillagest, and tis only natural that one should assume you to always have committed some wrongdoing and thus be in need of punish...” she winced as her use of her accent exaggerated a sore, injured spot in her mouth, ”Deserving of punishment!”

She took her frustration out on the mostly-empty water bottle, the plastic crinkling now on her end as she used it as a proxy for Etsali's duplicitous neck. ”And now thou liest more! You weren't there! she nearly howled, ”And if...” she looked at Ephias pleadingly. But no. But no she knew he had been there. He shouldn't have been, but he was... She took a deep breath. ”... was she... there?” she asked. He would know.