The man abruptly fell to his knees before Lillian, his entire frame trembling as he uttered words that left Lillian thoroughly bewildered.
"An Angel! An Angel from the heavens!" The man bellowed, remaining on his knees with his face pressed to the ground.
While Lillian had encountered various reactions to her beauty, this one was undeniably the most peculiar.
"Sir, I'm not an angel. Just a woman in need of assistance. My friend is injured, and I must get him to Pyralon."
"Pyralon?" The man stood up swiftly, a look of concern crossing his face. "Oh, no, not tonight, dear Angel. The gates will be sealed by this hour. However, by morning, they will reopen," he explained, still marveling at Lillian as if she were a celestial being.
"I can't wait until tomorrow; my friend is dying," Lillian replied, casting a worried glance toward Dorian.
Following her gaze, the man spotted Dorian. "My house isn't far from here, and my wife is skilled in making medicine. I'm certain she can help your friend," he offered without hesitation, extending a helping hand.
At this juncture, uncertainty gripped Lillian. Accepting the stranger's offer might mean saving Dorian's life, or it could lead to a perilous situation.
Trusting the stranger might prove a mistake, but she found herself without a better option.
"Alright. Please assist me in getting him onto your wagon," she replied, her resolve firm.
The man promptly joined her efforts, helping lift Dorian onto the back of the wagon.
Lillian sat beside Dorian as the man swiftly set the wagon in motion.
In a matter of moments, they reached a quaint cottage.
"Pat! Patricia! Herrick! Arya! Anyone, come out and help!" the man's voice echoed as he descended from the wagon.
The cottage door swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman holding a lantern as she approached her husband.
"Herald, have you completely lost your mind? Why are you shouting?" Patricia asked with anger, her gaze yet to fall upon Lillian, thinking her husband had succumbed to madness.
"Pat, an Angel... an Angel needs our help," Herald explained, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"Oh, dear Diviner, he has truly lost his mind," Patricia said, shaking her head in worry.
"Mother! Father! Is everything alright?" Arya, a young girl in her youth, rushed out of the cottage, concerned by her father's unusual tone.
Her slightly older brother followed closely behind, also curious about the commotion.
"Everything is fine; go back inside," Patricia instructed her children, then noticed the stunned expressions on their faces. They had spotted Lillian, whom Patricia had yet to see.
"What is wrong with you two? I said, go back inside. In fact, let's all go back inside," Patricia urged.
"Mother, look!" Arya pointed at Lillian, and Patricia finally turned around.
A gasp caught in her throat as her eyes met Lillian's. Never before had she seen a woman so divine. Even covered in mud and dirt, Lillian radiated beauty. Her husband hadn't lost his mind; this woman was indeed an angel!
"I deeply apologize for disturbing you all at this late hour, but my friend desperately needs your help," Lillian conveyed, her tone filled with urgency.
Patricia, still in shock, nodded in response.
Herald, assisted by his son, managed to guide Dorian into the cottage, with Lillian following suit.
Once inside, they carefully laid Dorian on a small bed in one of the cottage's rooms.
"Herrick! Quickly fetch some hot water, a rag, and my medicine bag," Patricia commanded.
"Yes, Mother," Herrick promptly replied, leaving the room without hesitation.
"Arya, please take our guest to your room and help her out of her wet clothes so she won't fall ill," Patricia directed.
"No, thank you. I'm fine. I'll stay here with him," Lillian asserted firmly.
"Dearest, falling ill won't do him any good. I assure you he's in safe hands," Patricia replied with reassurance.
"I won't leave his side until I know for certain that he'll be alright," Lillian declared.
Patricia nodded in understanding, and soon Herrick rushed in with everything she had requested.
She immediately sprang into action, delicately removing Dorian's shirt for a thorough assessment of his wounds.
With careful precision, she untangled the soiled bandage, stained with blood, unveiling the extent of the injury. Patricia proceeded to clean and treat the infected wound, skillfully stitching it before administering medicine to alleviate the pain.
"There. Hopefully, he'll be fine," Patricia reassured Lillian once the intricate process was complete.
"How long until he wakes up?" Lillian inquired.
"Soon, dearest," Patricia replied kindly. "Now, I advise you to change into something else and get out of your wet clothes."
"I don't have anything else to wear," Lillian admitted.
"Don't worry; Arya will lend you some clothes. Now, we must leave him to rest," Patricia declared, rising and walking towards the door.
With a final glance at Dorian, Lillian followed Patricia outside, where the rest of the family had gathered.
"Arya, please assist our guest," Patricia instructed her daughter.
A nod from the young girl signaled Lillian to follow her.
Lillian gracefully followed Arya into a quaint, well-kept room. The space, though modest, emanated warmth and coziness, enhanced by the cleanliness that prevailed.
"This is my room," Arya announced with a radiant smile. She appeared young, perhaps not even fourteen. Bright hazel eyes sparkled, yet dark circles around them hinted at weariness. Despite her paleness, Arya's beauty shone through, especially in her captivating smile.
"I'm Arya. Arya Weatherbee," she said, her smile unwavering as she gazed at Lillian. Never before had she encountered someone so flawlessly beautiful.
Lillian reciprocated with a warm smile. "I'm Lillian," she replied.
"Are you what Father said you are? An angel?" Arya asked, her eyes glimmering with curiosity.
"I'm afraid not. I'm as ordinary as you are," Lillian explained.
"Then why are you so beautiful?" Arya persisted, only to realize that Lillian was still clad in her wet clothes. Her mother had asked her to help Lillian change.
"Silly me. You must be freezing," Arya exclaimed, walking over to her small wardrobe. "I don't think I have anything that will fit you. Stay right here; I'll go ask Mother," she said before leaving the room.
Alone, Lillian sank to the ground, relieved that at least the worst was over.