Upon hearing his voice she coughed and tried to push herself into a better sitting position, then she strained to look up at him but winced in pain.
"Stay still." He gently instructed, kneeling at her side to scrutinize her wounds.
Thin metal poles stuck to her body, at her torso and thighs.
Although none seemed to have hit her vitals due to her thick armor, she seemed to have lost too much blood.
She strained to breathe as her dark blue bangs stuck to her pale, damp skin with sweat, and her glazed violet eyes battled to stay conscious.
Seeing this, Troan looked slightly puzzled.
'She's an ice elemental skilled in medicine, why didn't she stop her bleeding with her powers? Or did she lose consciousness after the blast?"
"Valerie." He called softly and swept some hair away from her eyes.
At the sound of his voice, her eyes became clearer and she looked up at him.
"Lor—"
"Don't speak." He said, as he tentatively touched the metal poles. "I'm going to heal you. But first I have to remove these shrapnel."
He looked her in the eyes.
"We need to be quick. I need you to numb your senses, can you do that?"
She weakly nodded.
Soon her skin began to take on an icy bluish hue, and her every breath caused condensation.
Valerie then looked at him, her eyes conveying the message.
'Do it!"
He nodded and immediately grabbed a thin metal pole embedded in her armor, and yanked it out.
The action elicited a muffled groan from her; with every shrapnel removed, he froze shut the open wounds with ice.
Soon he was almost done.
Troan then began taking off her cuirass.
"Help me remove this clasp." He instructed the houseguard.
When it was off he observed her gambeson.
'Luckily the smaller shrapnel couldn't pierce through." He thought, with a small sigh of relief.
'Now to heal her..."
He tilted his head slightly, observing Valerie in thought.
'She has lost too much blood, and I don't think she can hold on long enough for a blood implant or to find a proper light elemental.
'Healing weakens me exceedingly and Wriggler said enemies might still be around, but I can't let my friend die. I have to heal her now before death places his filthy hand on her!"
Having these thoughts with a grim expression, he took up his sword.
'If Valerie wasn't an ice elemental it would've been even more draining. I hope we won't have to face any life-threatening situation after this. Ervhen can only do this once a week, after all." He thought with a conflicted expression, which gradually became resolute.
'Now, I just have to say the chant that reduces the drain on me, as well as the after-effects of the healing on the patient."
He cleared his throat and said the chant in a solemn tone.
"To the Lord of the Ages,
By the will of his Knight,
At the beckoning of death,
Its last breath brought forth life!"
As soon as he said this, he ran his sword into her heart.
"By the Origins!" The houseguard exclaimed in shock.
But Troan ignored him, focusing on his task.
The sword glowed as soft white energy appeared to course from the sword's crystal-like grip up toward the point of the blade.
Badum!
The sound of a strong heartbeat.
Valerie's eyes turned white as her wounds began to visibly heal.
From the scratches on her face to the grievous wounds on her body. All healed by the time it took to take two deep breaths.
Tsss~
He pulled out the sword and it was immediately followed by a trail of icy condensation.
The stab wound immediately healed shut, leaving no scars behind.
Valerie's eyes returned back to normal and her skin took on some warmth, but she still appeared weak.
He watched her curiously.
"How...are you feeling?"
"...Lord Troan?" Valerie blinked languidly before taking in the carnage around her.
As if a bucket of water was poured on her head, her eyes instantly became alert, and she sprung up to her feet.
She picked up her sword and formed a battle stance.
Troan observed all this with a stoic demeanor. He watched the ease at which she got up and studied her expression for signs of being in pain.
Seeing that she appeared fine, he let out an imperceptible sigh of relief.
All of a sudden, he felt something running down his nose. When he touched it and had a look, he discovered that his fingers glistened with his blood.
His expression was that of utter confusion and disbelief.
Sounds of horses galloping were soon heard down the road and multiple torches soon came into view.
Valerie's brows furrowed slightly, alerted at the approaching armed men.
"Who are those?"
"City guards." He stated as he wiped the blood away. "But they're late. It seems I'll need to speak to the Captain of the city guards before I leave."
His voice was calm, but there was a certain iciness beneath. A promise of retribution.
Valerie looked between him and the approaching guards and nodded.
"It is suspicious." She said with a curious frown.
As Troan awaited the oncoming city guards he suddenly felt something behind him, a familiar presence, an aura that brought forth horrid memories of something—of someone.
The most iconic of the assassins after his life, one who had gained notoriety from pestering him for years and living to tell the tale.
An old foe so hated he had ingrained her aura, the very musk of her scent into memory.
'Geyser!" His eyes glowed sharply.
Like a whip, he spun around in one powerful motion brandishing his sword to intercept a perceived attack, but there was none.
All that stood before him and his blade was the wall of a building. On the wall were words written in blood.
'Wait for me, Waffles. I'll save you for last this time. Watch out for your precious siblings, though."
These words were followed by a drawing. Two red and short, curved lines above a wider and longer, zig-zag drawing that curved slightly as well. It oddly seemed like a predatorial grin, blood rolled off the end like a morbid drool.
Valerie's eyes flitted in alarm between the bloody writing and Troan.
"Smiling eyes and a predator's grin. Lord Troan that's Geyser's emble—"
"Stay with the caravan!"
However, before she could complete her words Troan had turned and darted into an alleyway, leaving an order behind.
His cold, blue eyes pierced through the dark as he followed the scent he had mastered over the years.
His heart beat wildly as var flooded into his body, strengthening him. However, there was a certain fatigue gnawing at his bones.
He had just used a very demanding Chosen ability and felt like he was on the verge of flagging any moment now.
'Watch out for your precious siblings...'
The words flashed in his mind and he gritted his teeth.
'Geyser had only targeted me before, others were collateral damage caught in our brief battles. Now she seeks to hurt my family?! I will not allow it!"
With a powerful stamp, he pushed off the ground launching himself up into the air and onto a nearly horizontal rooftop, his cape slowly falling behind him.
Ahead stood a figure bathed in the moonlit. She had reddish-brown fox-like ears, and a long fluffy tail with a dirty-yellow tip that waved gently through the air.
Troan calmed his breathing, locked his gaze on her, and decided to charge while her back was turned to him.
Crakk!
The roof cracked slightly as he pushed his foot into the tiles and launched himself forward, sword in hand.
Craak!
More cracks came as soon as he came within strike range of her, digging a foot into the tiles to stop and swing his sword at her nape in a clean arc.
However, with a cat-like instinct, she did a somersault back into the air, evading the blow and getting above him.
Troan looked up at her, midswing as she spun in the air. Her face was covered with a smiling, white and red, wolf mask.
She got behind him, grabbed his cape with both hands, and tugged him back.
Troan lost his balance and quickly tried to unclip the cape but it was too late.
She got into a low stance, twisted her torso, and spun, taking Troan off his feet and spinning him around in the air with his cape before letting him go.
He soon went tumbling toward where he had originally landed onto the roof.
Troan placed a hand on the roof, got on one knee, and watched her with a frown.
"Geyser! This ends now!" He declared, in a hard, authoritative tone.
She glanced back at him, her smiling white and red, wolf mask ominous in the moonlight.
"Waffles, is that you?" She asked curiously and then laughed in her smooth, seductive voice.
However, Troan could sense the underlying madness beneath it.
She turned to him fully, dressed in her short, red, and yellow hooded cloak, blood-stained white blouse, black skirt, and high, clasp boots.
"To think you would come to me! I guess you could say—breakfast came early!" She tittered, her saffron eyes excitedly aglow through the eye holes of the mask.