"..." Leonel stroked the flame, his bowl emptied at his side. He was considering another filling but he'd already had five and Julian only one. There was only a bit of food left over. After contemplating he said, "When my injuries heal, I'll go."
"You better." Julian yawned again, loud and without elegance. He put his bowl aside, not finishing the last bit at the bottom at his bowl. "Speaking of which, let's change your bandages and see how those are doing."
Leonel bristled, "I already said, I can do it myself."
"Who's the doctor here?" Julian stood, hands on his hips. He raised a brow at this overgrown child that he accidentally took in.
"...I don't need your help."
"My help will make it so you can heal fast so that you can leave faster. Now, now, I know that you're sad about the prospect of leaving this fine and beautiful specimen," he motioned himself before continuing, "But alas it was never meant for us to be. Let me fix you up, and you can go on your way before you fall even deeper in love."
A scowl decorated Leonel's features, making Julian laugh. "Don't take too long, okay?" The Doctor said with a wink before going back inside.
Leonel growled as he watched the Doctor go back inside the hut. But he did have a point. The faster he healed the faster he could leave. The faster he could go to Pyrpara and scream at Marik for the misinformation. And the faster he could chase rumors as he's done so for the past seven years.
Speaking of which, he never did acquire the journal that was supposed to have entries about the Mage King Amari.
Leonel sneered at the thought.
There was a time he would hunt even the slightest rumor with tireless fervor, a time he'd kill just for scraps. Many have begged and pleaded with him to stop his pointless quest, seeking vengeance from a man long proclaimed dead. Leonel did not care about their opinion, did not care about their cries and their feelings toward him. He chased rumor about rumor tirelessly, without discrimination, never losing hope that one day he would find that bastard of a fallen king.
But he was wiser now, more calloused. Even the passionate burn of vengeance mellowed out into an endless gnawing drawl. Not bright, but ever present like a disease he'd grown used to living with. He even began getting picky with the rumors he chased, for he had enough experience to tell when someone was trying to bait him for a favor.
The viscount of Fauster's wife was clearly using the journal as leverage against him, when she was out of her depth with no other options left. Leonel already knew that there was nothing to be found in the scribbles left behind by a madwoman, but the viscount's wife had insisted.
Still.
It was all too late now.
Everything in Fauster had gone to shit and Leonel wanted nothing to do with it. At worse he was a wanted man, at best, nothing was neither gained nor lost.
That didn't mean that Leonel should stay in Motsven. Or bother the doctor when he wasn't welcome.
"..." He poked at the flame before finally getting to his feet. There was a part of him that wasn't so keen on leaving quickly. A small bit of moral conscience that remained, guilting him with reminder that there was debt unpaid.
The Inquisitor scoffed to himself as he gathered the dirty bowls, placing them in a bucket of water before putting out the flame.
Since when did he care about debts? He had collected so many in the past seven years.
Maybe time had made him soft. His anger and rage are no longer as bright as they once had been. He chided at himself and his weakness.
There was still a vow yet unfulfilled, revenge that was waiting to be taken.
"..." Leonel's eyes were vacant, bored as he watched the smoke rise from where the fire burned. The doctor's voice was sharp and muffled behind the thin walls of his pathetic hut. Leonel responded, "I'm coming! Stop shouting!"
The doctor was already seated next to the cot, his tools and ointments ready at his side. Now that the hut was clear of all that useless crap, it seemed surprisingly spacious for how quaint it looked from the outside. He could actually swing his arm without fear of knocking something over.
Julian patted the cot impatiently, "Come now, son. No need to be afraid, I'll be gentle I promise." He winked before cackling at his words. The little wyvern pup that was at his foot cackled along.
Leonel had no idea what was even funny and yet the corner of his mouth twitched. He set himself down on the cot, "Thought you didn't want me to fall in love with you, old man."
"I suppose not," Julian hummed, ordering Leonel to take off his garments, "But alas, it appears you have no choice in the matter, I know that I'm irresistible after all."
"Keep on dreaming." Fabric rustled as Leonel slipped out of his clothes, first his shirt and then the trousers. Absently, he wondered why Julian even had these pieces that obviously did not fit the little doctor.
Probably for the same reason he owned all the other useless junk.
"Yes, yes, wallow in denial longer if that's what keeps you sane. I know that in your heart you think I'm pretty." Julian started with his leg first, unbinding the hemp and inspecting the scars. He whistled, impressed.
"It truly marvels me just how quickly you Inquisitors can heal."
"Told you I'd be fine."
Julian still washed the wound for good measure but decided it didn't need to be bandaged anymore. "Just don't do anything to irritate it or re-open it, you hear me?"
The Inquisitor rolled his eyes, which earned him a pinch on his leg. He hissed and glared at this annoying doctor. "I won't."
"Good, good that's what I want to hear." Satisfied, Julian moved to the arm. The swelling had gone down but he was still worried about the fracture. He wound it back up tightly after cleaning and slathering it again with ointment.
Last, there was the circuit wound on the Inquisitor's torso. When Julian touched the bandages around his abdomen, he didn't miss the sharp intake of breath, abs contracting just slightly from his fingertips.
He frowned. That didn't bode well. "Is it painful?" He asked, gently peeling away the hemp, careful when it got stuck of sticky flakes of bloodied flesh.
"I'm fine." Leonel stilled his expression and even out his breathing. His pain tolerance was a lot higher than normal people, it was just an itch, he convinced himself.
But the skin underneath was deep purple and blue, veins popping around the wound, feverish to the touch.
Julian cursed, wondering how he could have let things get to this stage right under his eyes. To be fair, circuit corruption was extremely painful and for Leonel to go about the entire day like it was normal was a feat to be applauded.
"Must be the anti-mana," Julian muttered to himself, running his hand just hovering the wound in attempts to feel the corruption's aura. If Leonel had been a mage, there definitely would not have been any problems with the treatment Julian used before. Alas, it was difficult to account for anti-mana. It wasn't like Julian had the pleasure of working with or on Inquisitors before.
Leonel hissed, his fingers sinking into the thin sheet underneath him. "The what?"
"Your anti-mana interacted strangely with the mana of the spell that injured you. That's what caused this corruption," Julian hummed as he continued to inspect the wound. He'd seen many cases of circuit corruption in mages, but this was the first time being up and personal with one on an Inquisitor. Curiosity blossomed with child-like wonder. If Julian had the time, he'd fill at least three journals of notes on this phenomenon.
Alas, he could only make surface speculations for now.
The truth was, Inquisitors were just dormant mages who had their mana converted to anti-mana through alchemy and ritual. It was magic like any other magic in Julian's books but he supposed the Divine Light was a difficult group to reason with.
"How does that even happen?" Leonel hissed.
"Indeed. I wonder as well. Under normal circumstances, your anti-mana should completely cancel out the mana and it wouldn't have sunk into your circuits at all. Your circuits have to have been active at the same time you got injured. Yet somehow you couldn't protect yourself from this low-leveled spell even with your circuits full of anti-mana active. It's truly curious. Makes me wonder what happened."
"...Just fix it."
Julian rolled his eyes, "Okay, Mr. Mysterious, don't share your secrets with me. I won't pry any further. But hmm." He squinted at the wound and stroked his chin. "Though the corruption has spread, it isn't so deep yet…"
If it wasn't deep, it could be reversed. But that required a spell.
"You can purge it, can't you?"
"What?"
Leonel rolled his eyes and huffed, "Purge it. That thing you mages do when you…" He twirled his hand around in a circular motion. "You know. Get rid of shit like this."
Julian chuckled, "I suppose it was obvious wasn't it?"
"You didn't do much to hide it," he growled. "So can you do it? If not I'll go search for someone more capable."
He was slowly sitting up but was promptly pushed back down by the doctor, "Now, sit still. You're a terrible patient, you know?"
Leonel grunted but did as he was told, laying back on the cot.
"Don't move, it's going to hurt," Julian warned.
"I don't care. Just do it."