The crisis with Jax was averted, though it had taken both of us working in tandem to drive back the resurgent corruption. The walk back to the infirmary was quieter, the urgency replaced by a pensive silence. I glanced at the old man striding beside me, his pace remarkably steady despite the frantic rush.
"You moved fast back there," I remarked, breaking the ice. "Really fast, especially for a man of your age. I’m truly impressed."
Heron shot me a sidelong glance, his sharp eyes taking in my features, lingering for a moment on the pointed tips of my ears. "Hmph. And who’s to say you’re as young as you look, half-blood? Your kind can be deceptively seasoned. Maybe you’re the one who is old."
’Is he being racist now?’ I thought as I let out a short fake laugh. "Haha, fair enough."
He grunted in response, a sound that might have been amusement, and we continued the rest of the walk in a more comfortable silence.
My mind, however, was far from quiet. It replayed his muttered words from earlier...
’...Like father, like son.’
The pieces had already begun to click into place with those words.
Heron saw Vance’s father in him. Which meant Vance’s father wasn’t just some random person; he... he was someone Heron knew intimately, someone whose memory was tied to that profound guilt and regret.
Maybe he had been his master. Or his direct superior. A fellow captain, perhaps.
And if so, it would explain the depth of the connection, the sense of personal failure I felt from him. It would also neatly explain how Vance, a seemingly ordinary, mute young man, had risen to the position of personal knight to a princess.
He wasn’t just a talented commoner. He was the son of a revered or perhaps fallen royal knight, and given appropriate care and position.
"Let me open the door," I heard him saying as we reached the infirmary. I just gave a nod.
"..." Heron paused, his hand on the latch, and for a moment, he looked every one of his seventy-odd years. Perhaps, he was steeling himself to face the ghost again.
I also wondered if Vance, who was still diligently scrubbing floors inside, had any idea that the grumpy old medic held the key to his own past.
Well, even if Vance didn’t know now, he was probably bound to find out sooner or later. The truth had a way of surfacing, especially when it was tied to a regret this heavy.
Heron pushed the door open, and we stepped back inside, and we fell back into the previous pattern. I returned to checking patients, and Vance, after a brief glance our way, resumed his work. This time, however, Heron began instructing me again in his usual gruff(tsundere) way, pointing out subtleties in a patient’s pallor or demonstrating a more effective poultice application.
About half an hour later, a soft knock sounded at the door before it opened. We all turned to see two figures step inside, lowering the scarves they’d used to ward off the cold. It was Cassandra and Princess Aurelia.
"Oh, you’re back," I said, giving them a gentle wave after carefully putting down a rather intimidating-looking syringe. The patient on the cot beside me let out a shaky, relieved sigh.
Cassandra nodded, her eyes crinkling in a smile above her mask. "We were returning for lunch and thought it would be better to collect you all. Otherwise, you’d probably forget to eat entirely."
"Alright, I’ll finish up here quickly then. Please, just a few more moments," I said, turning back to my patient.
The man’s eyes, which had just begun to relax, widened in fresh horror. He looked from the syringe to the two elegant women and back to me, a silent plea in his eyes. Perhaps too embarrassed to cry or beg in front of them, he simply gritted his teeth, bracing for the inevitable.
I chuckled softly. "Don’t worry, it’s just a quick pinch." As I administered the injection, I let a subtle thread of Mender’s Paradox unwind to soothe the spike of fear and tension in his spirit. His body relaxed almost instantly, the anticipated pain replaced by a wave of calm confusion.
"See? All done." I patted his shoulder. "You were very brave."
The man blinked, looking down at his arm as if he’d missed something. Heron watched the entire exchange, his sharp eyes missing nothing, but he said not a word.
I also noted that he didn’t show any particular reaction to the princess. No flicker of recognition, no change in posture. Either the mask concealed her identity perfectly, or, more likely, a former Captain of the Royal Guard had long since trained himself not to gawk at royalty, even when it appeared unexpectedly in his infirmary. His world had long been narrowed to this town and his penance. But still...
’Hmm~ Should I tease him a bit?’
"Old man," I said, gathering my things. "We’re heading to lunch. Will you join us?"
He didn’t even look up from the bandage he was re-rolling. "No. I have work."
I nodded, my expression perfectly sincere. "Well then, I won’t force you. But I hope you’ll remember to eat something yourself."
There was a pause. Then, a low grumble. "...I will. Now, you can go."
Satisfied, I nodded and gestured for the others to head out. Cassandra gave a polite nod in Heron’s direction, while Aurelia offered a small, respectful one. Vance cast one last, unreadable look at the old man’s back before following us out.
As I closed the infirmary door behind us, leaving the Faded Sentinel to his solitude and his ghosts, I couldn’t help but feel the day was already proving far more productive than I had anticipated.
We had averted a medical crisis, started my next step of training, and most intriguing of all, I was now almost certain of the bond that tied a broken old soldier to a mute young knight(and a ’ghost princess’).
’...’ And...
I think Vance has also started having his own suspicions.
’Way to go, young friend~’