The first thing that returned was the dull ache in his head and chest that he had become accustomed to after those expenditures. In recent years, even the slightest use of magic could send him into a swoon, and he recalled the danger that it presented. However, he couldn't recall any time that he had woken up in a feather bed, a light blanket thrown over his body to keep it warm. He started to sit up, fighting the vertigo that came and saw that he was in his room at the inn, stripped to the waist. He looked around for his shirt, seeing it draped over the foot of the bed. As he reached over and pulled it on, his strength came back slowly. He began to stand, but fell back onto the bed as his legs went limp. He sat there, shaking his head.
"You shouldn't be moving about right now," came a voice from the side, and he turned towards it.
Sitting in a chair in the shadowed corner of the room was the young lady from the night before. Her red hair sparkled as she stepped into the sunlight, pouring water from a clay decanter into a cup and offering it to him. "The healer said to stay in bed for a day to recover all of your energies, mage. The results otherwise weren't encouraging."
"I don't need you to nursemaid me," he said. Frowning, the man took the water and drank it, feeling the burning in his stomach ease. He looked at the woman from the corner of his eye. "Why are you here?" he muttered.
"No one else wanted to tend to you, so I stayed out of gratitude. I thought," she said, turning a glare of her own at him, her words taking a slight edge. "That you would at least say thank you."
"Thanks are overrated," he growled. "I would have been ok without your interference. I've taken care of myself for quite a while now."
"Well, you certainly are a people person, aren't you?" Aurial stood straight up and posted her fists on her hips. "A thank-you won't kill you, you know."
The man looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. "You aren't going to let this drop, are you?" he sighed.
His only answer was a raised eyebrow.
Grimacing, he turned and bowed politely. "Thank you for unnecessarily keeping a watch over me as I slept. Our debt is now settled." He looked around and reached for his boots as the woman sputtered.
"Who said anything about there being a debt to settle?" she shot at him, the irritation evident on her face.
"I saved your life from those ruffians and you watched as I recovered from my sickness. We're even." He pulled on his boots as she stared.
"We're not anywhere near even," she said as she rounded the bed to face him, pushing him back onto the mattress, causing him to stare up at her. "I could at least get your name. Or maybe you could tell me why you decided to step in and risk your neck?"
"My name is completely irrelevant; you have no need to know it." He cinched down the buckles at the top of his boots and flexed his feet experimentally. "I'll be moving along soon, so there's no need to make any lasting ties. And as to why I helped you," He looked out the window, his gaze settling on something far away in both space and time. "Let's just say that there is no reason anyone should go through what they had planned."
"So, that's all? The gallant knight-errant saves the damsel in distress and rides off, never to be seen again." She scoffed. "Spare me. Why would a mage risk his neck for someone he never met?"
He growled. "I'm sure those men are still around if you'd like to try them on for yourself." He looked at her simple dress, still showing signs of the rough treatment she had received and the swollen cut on her lip from where she had been beaten. "You seemed to need the help."
She flashed red for a moment, just before spinning away. "I would have thought of something," she said noncommittally. "I'm not completely helpless."
The man stood, stretching his back. "Not from where I was standing. You had an empty knife sheath on your belt, so I assume either it was taken from you or you left it in one of the bandits. You were also outnumbered and surrounded." He gave a derisive laugh. "I suppose you had them right where you wanted them?"
She rounded on him, thrusting a finger into his chest.
"You know, you aren't so smart. I managed to survive the Massacre, and I would have found a way to survive that little detail."
The man stared at her. "The Massacre? You don't mean the Battle of Carmess?"
The woman smirked. "Not that observant, are you?" she asked, hooking her long red hair behind her ears, revealing the long, tapered points of a Plains Elf. "I'm one of the few survivors from the Far Reaches."
The man stared at her hard, gold eyes searching. "All right," he said grudgingly. "Maybe you would have gotten out of that on your own. But did it really hurt for the help?"
The woman chuckled, letting her hair fall back down over her ear. "No, and I am thankful for it." She stepped away, moving around the bed again.
The man shook his head. He glanced around. "Have you seen…" he started to ask.
"Your sword?" came her voice, along with the soft ring of steel on wood. Turning, he found the Elf holding his sword with a sure grip. "Held onto it all night, in case someone sought to enter and take some sort of revenge."
"You hold that like you know how," the man said. "Where did you learn?"
Sliding the sword away, she handed the sheathed weapon to the mage. "My father taught my brothers and I when I was younger. I only managed to learn the basics, but living in a town like this, you really don't have a need to learn more."
The mage gave a wry laugh as he fastened the belt around his waist. "I could point out a few countering points to that argument," he said. "So your father was a weapons master?"
"Something like that. He was a general in the Steward's army. Things might have been different if the Steward had sent someone else to the Border."
The man turned, staring at her, a new intensity in his eyes, and a distant pain just behind them. "What was his name?" he asked quietly.
She looked at him oddly. "Vinitus of the Golden Leaves," she answered slowly. "Why? Did you know him?"
"I knew of him, yes," the man said, glancing away.
"How? He died almost fifty years ago." Aurial said.
"I knew several people that survived the massacre. They spoke very highly of your father." He hesitated. "What is your name?" he asked.
She tilted her head up slightly, wondering what prompted this change. "You going to tell me yours?"
"Being polite usually means the person that started demanding a name gives theirs first." the man said to her, the irritated tone returning.
"My name is Aurial of the Golden Leaves, Daughter of Vinitus of the Golden Leaves." She gave a small curtsy, her hair falling down like a fiery curtain. Her sarcasm was only thinly veiled. "May I know the name of my protector?"
The man looked at her, his eyes showing an increased conflict.
"Armyd," he said, offering no other information.
"Pleased to meet you, Armyd. And where will you be going from here, if I may ask?" she said as she sat back down on her bench.
"I have no set destination," he said quietly as he fingered one of the engraved vines that ran along the hilt of his sword. "A few stops in towns to procure supplies and information, eventually heading out towards Belen or the Dagger Coast."
"Sounds exciting," she said. "I hear the Dagger Coast is beautiful. Always wanted to see the sea."
He stood silent for a long moment. "You should come along," he said quietly.
She looked at him. "Why?"
He shrugged. "You just said you wanted to see the coast. And besides," he said, picking up his cloak. "Those goons may be gone for now, but as soon as I ride out of town, they might come back to get some petty revenge. I'm not overly concerned about the innkeeper, but you might not be as lucky next time. They might strike while you sleep."
Aurial stared at him for a few seconds, mind racing. He had a point, and she was not particularly eager to tangle with those thugs again.
When she looked up, the man was already in the hall, moving for the stairs.
"Hey, wait up."
He glanced at her as they left the inn. "Where are you lodged? You can't travel the whole way in that skirt."
She glanced down, begrudgingly agreeing with him. Her clothing still showed the bits of damage gained from her scuffle last night. She pointed down a street and led the way to the simple apartment she kept over a the tack shop.
***
The beast raised its head, nostrils flaring. It could smell prey in the canyon nearby. It shifted its body, coils straightening and legs raising the serpentine body.
"You're stirring, Koryu? Is something approaching?"
Koryu turned his head, spying his comrade stepping from their lair, settling his armor on his frame. Rising to his full height, Koryu faced back down the canyon, his voice seeping from his bulk as though coming from the ether.
"Someone has wandered into my domain, Kyukei, two Humans by the smell. Do you wish to see what their business is?"
"No, let's just go and kill them. They're probably just some dungeon delvers searching for lost riches or some vagabonds that got lost trying to find their way around in here. I could use the sustenance and you could use the exercise."
Picking up a coiled length of chain, Kyukei stepped onto the matte brown scales of Koryu's back and grinned wickedly, revealing pointed teeth.
"It's been a while since I've had a good row. I hope they are worth the trouble."