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The dusk of a long day settled over the Little Palace, casting a serene glow on the weary faces of the Grisha as they returned from their laborious task. They had spent the day constructing a makeshift bridge to mend the lifeline of their community. Residents of Os Alta had also lent their aid, and both Grisha and townsfolk, their hands and hearts working in unison, had been able to restore a semblance of normalcy after the disaster.
Ivan, whose dedication to General Kirigan had kept him by the injured man’s side throughout the night, had reluctantly torn himself away at dawn to oversee the efforts. And although the Durasts had taken the lead with their expertise in construction, it was Ivan who had initiated and coordinated the entire operation, seeing it as his duty as Kirigan’s second-in-command. He knew that the General would never have left the residents of Os Alta to face such a task alone, especially since, although the Tsar and his soldiers might have eventually managed it, the Grisha were far better suited to take charge.
His mind, however, had remained with Kirigan, replaying the harrowing moments of his collapse and the horrific helplessness he had felt while fighting to save his leader’s life over and over again. Kirigan had not regained consciousness throughout the night, and although Ivan knew he was out of immediate danger, the entire day had been a blur of anxiety and tension for him. The exhaustion from the previous night weighed heavily on him, making it difficult to focus on the task at hand; all he really wanted was to return to the infirmary to check on his superior.
Now, as the evening sun wrapped the Inner Court of the Little Palace in its warm embrace, the weary Grisha began to unsaddle their horses, their movements slow and heavy with exhaustion. The atmosphere was quiet, almost somber, as the events of the past two days weighed heavily on them. The worry for Kirigan still hung over them all like a dark cloud, sapping their energy and spirits.
Yet, just as Ivan was handing the reins of his horse to a stable attendant, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Pausing mid-action, he looked up in disbelief: General Kirigan and Alina had entered the courtyard.
The sight of them was not only completely unexpected but downright extraordinary.
The petite woman had looped the General’s arm over her shoulder and held his waist, steadying him as they moved together with careful steps.
Kirigan’s appearance was a stark contrast to the commanding figure they were accustomed to. Clad only in the soft, simple clothes of the infirmary, his tall and inherently slender form was even more pronounced. The absence of his customary layers of Kefta and tunics revealed a delicacy that was usually hidden, his lean physique now starkly apparent. His face was pale, the kind of white that spoke of blood loss and bed rest, casting him in an almost otherworldly light.
The General’s usual aura of invincibility had been replaced by a fragility that stirred a protective instinct in Ivan and all who beheld him; this man, who had always seemed larger than life, now walked among them with a vulnerability that was both jarring and endearing. Yet, the intensity in his eyes was undiminished, the same fierce determination that had always been his hallmark.
Having been shaken to their core twenty-four hours earlier, witnessing Kirigan’s harrowing battle with death, the Grisha watched his unsteady yet determined movements in silent astonishment, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and quiet joy. For a moment, they simply stood there, absorbing the sight before them, letting the reality of his appearance sink in. Then, one after the other, they approached him; not in a rush, but with a gentle eagerness, each expressing in their own way the depth of their gladness at seeing him on the mend.
Their faces were alight with a happiness that had seemed so unimaginable a day before - and that was the moment Ivan realized that Kirigan had made a conscious decision to come to the courtyard. Despite his weakened state, his primary concern was, as always, the well-being of his people. He knew his presence would help alleviate their worries; this was a deliberate act to comfort them after the unease he had caused.
And his plan worked perfectly. However, there was one thing he had not foreseen.
Kirigan, for all his intelligence and strategic brilliance, seemed unprepared for the depth of emotion that met him. The smiles, the nods, the quiet words of encouragement—while receiving them, there was a sense of wonder in his eyes, as if he were seeing his people for the first time.
Ivan sighed. As their General, Kirigan bore the weight of command, the relentless burden of impossible choices that carved chasms between duty and humanity. Ivan understood the solitude that accompanied such a role: the sleepless nights and the constant choices that tore at one’s soul. Kirigan, respected and more often than not even feared, had surely always been aware of the regard of his Grisha. But here, in this quiet courtyard, where smiles bloomed and hands reached out, he discovered a kinship that transcended mere duty. It was a heartfelt connection, an understanding that he was truly valued and cherished by those around him.
And perhaps, Ivan mused, Kirigan had needed this revelation. For he gave tirelessly to his people, day after day, yet obviously hadn’t fully grasped how deeply they recognized and appreciated his unwavering commitment. The weight of responsibility often obscured such truths, leaving those in charge isolated in their decisions. But now, surrounded by his Grisha, Kirigan obviously realized that their loyalty was intertwined with deep affection; a truth that had always been present but had apparently just now become unmistakably clear to him. Ivan hoped that Kirigan now finally understood that he belonged, and that this realization would help him feel less alone in his burdens.
After a few minutes, the interactions began to take their toll; Kirigan’s strength started to wane. Ivan noticed that while the General still smiled warmly, his energy was fading, and he grew quieter and paler. He could also sense an increase in his heartbeat, indicating how it became harder for him to stay upright.
Ivan considered discreetly alerting Alina to Kirigan’s exhaustion, but the Sun Summoner, ever vigilant, had picked up on his growing fatigue as well. With an apologetic smile, she gently guided her charge away from his people and led him toward a nearby bench.
Ivan’s fellow Grisha immediately stepped back, giving the injured man the space he needed. Only two remained nearby, clearly ready to assist if necessary. But that wasn’t needed; Alina had everything under control. He noticed the subtle tightening of her grip around Kirigan’s narrow waist, a silent promise to hold him steady should his strength falter. The setting sun cast a warm glow on her face, highlighting the determination etched into her features; her gaze was fixed ahead, yet there was a tenderness in her eyes that spoke volumes of her concern and steadfast devotion.
As they reached the bench, Alina and Kirigan settled against the wall of the Little Palace, basking in the remnants of the day’s light. Kirigan leaned back against the wall, the weariness from yesterday’s ordeal was evident in the way his body sagged. His eyes closed for a few precious moments of rest. Alina, looking weary herself, leaned gently against him, mindful of his injured chest. But he drew her close, signalling that her proximity brought no pain, only comfort. He rested his head against hers, both of them savouring the warmth of the sun.
The Grisha looked on, their spirits buoyed by the tender scene, a beautiful testament to the healing power of closeness and care.
After a few minutes, as the sun dipped below the courtyard walls and the evening chill began to settle, Alina whispered to Kirigan that it was time to return indoors.
The General, who had still been resting with his eyes closed, slowly opened them at her words. His weariness was almost palpable when he tried to straighten up and, after taking a deep breath, attempted to rise. But his strength betrayed him—a rare moment of helplessness on display.
Ivan was at his side in an instant.
Kirigan looked up at him, exhaustion etched into his features. “It seems, I have to be a burden again, old friend,” he murmured, his voice tinged with frustration and fatigue.
Ivan knelt beside him, his eyes filled with unshakable determination. He placed his hand on Kirigan’s forearm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You could never be a burden, General,” he insisted gently but resolutely. “I am here for you. Always.”
With Alina on one side and Ivan on the other, they carefully helped Kirigan to his feet. They draped his arms over their shoulders and encircled his waist, providing the strong support he needed as they made their way back to the infirmary.
Kirigan’s steps were now slow and labored, each movement a testament to his sheer willpower. His face, though set in a determined expression, could not hide the pain that flickered more and more in his eyes.
Ivan’s heart ached with concern, yet he couldn’t help but admire Kirigan’s resilience. Anyone else would likely still be confined to bed, unable to even rise, but here was their General, pushing through his exhaustion and discomfort to walk among his people, to reassure them.
As they entered the infirmary, Ivan and Alina guided Kirigan straight to his cot, helping him to sit down. At this point, the extent of his debilitated state became evident; the injured man, by now trembling with exhaustion and pain, couldn’t manage to lie down by himself.
Without a word, Ivan gently clasped Kirigan’s shoulders and carefully lowered his upper body onto the pillows. At the same time, Alina supported his legs, cautiously raising them onto the bed.
Kirigan, too weak to resist, simply gave in to their assistance. His eyes fluttered shut, and with a weary exhale, his body went completely limp. His head lolled back, and he became a dead weight in their grasp. It looked as if he had lost consciousness there and then.
Alina’s worry was palpable, but Ivan, ever attuned to Kirigan’s heartbeat, was quite sure this was not a critical incident; the General was simply overwhelmed by exhaustion. Yet, before he could assuage her concerns, a pair of healers, who had been standing by patiently, approached them.
“We’re glad to see the General has decided to grace us with his presence again,” one of them remarked with a wry smile. Her tone, however, quickly shifted from one of loving exasperation to genuine concern. “Now we need to make sure he’s stable after this unexpectedly long walk and quite sudden collapse,” she added softly.
Ivan couldn’t help but let out an exhausted, dry sigh. “Only Kirigan could nearly die one day and have the healers worried about an extended stroll the next.”
The female healer smiled warmly at his comment. “He is truly one of a kind. But we wouldn’t have him any other way, would we?”
Ivan nodded, not able to hide a mixture of affection and concern in his voice. “No, we wouldn’t.”
With that, the healers began their examination.
The female healer carefully pushed Kirigan’s shirt up, exposing his lean torso. With practiced precision, she placed her hands on the General’s chest, softly palpating different areas and letting her magic flow. She took several minutes to assess the state of his internal injuries and ensure there was no fresh bleeding. Then she moved to Kirigan’s abdomen, pressing gently on his flat stomach, methodically probing every part to identify any signs of pain or discomfort, moving her hands in intricate sigils. She was thorough, ensuring that no area was left unchecked. As she did so, it became evident that her magic was not only assessing but also alleviating his pain. The tension around Kirigan’s eyes began to ease, the tight lines of discomfort softening visibly.
Simultaneously, the male healer encompassed Kirigan’s flanks, holding them for several moments, his hands moving in sync with Kirigan’s breaths. Since the devastating injuries from the previous day had caused a respiratory arrest, the healer spent considerable time monitoring Kirigan’s chest movements, ensuring they were steady and his lungs were functioning properly.
Finally, the healers exchanged nods of approval, their faces lighting up with optimism. “His progress is extraordinary,” the male healer announced, turning to Ivan and Alina. “He’s recovering at an impressive pace. He still needs time, of course, but he will achieve in a fortnight what would take others at least a month.”
Meanwhile, the female healer had carefully pulled Kirigan’s shirt back down and looked up, satisfied with their examination. “Would you like us to settle him in, or would you prefer to do it yourselves?” she kindly asked.
Ivan quickly responded, “We’ll take care of it.”
The healers nodded in understanding, their expressions affectionate and approving. They exchanged a few final murmurs before quietly retreating to give Ivan and Alina space.
The both of them wasted no time, and immediately stepped back to the bed. Ivan meticulously adjusted the pillows under Kirigan’s upper body, ensuring the resting man was comfortable while Alina draped a plush, thick blanket over his slender form, carefully tucking it around him to keep him warm. Kirigan let out a quiet sigh at that and visibly relaxed; the warmth seemed to do him good. His features softened in a way that made him look almost youthful. At the sight, a tender smile spread across Alinas face.
By the time they finished, Kirigan was in a deep sleep, his breathing steady and even; yet, the sight of the most powerful Grisha Ivan knew, so utterly defeated by exhaustion, was both alarming and telling. It spoke volumes about his current state and the severity of what he had endured. But it also highlighted his incredible strength and resilience - it was astonishing that he had managed to walk outside just minutes ago.
However, Ivan felt a pang of sorrow, realizing that once again, he had failed to notice how badly Kirigan was struggling, as he had succeeded to conceal the extent of his condition too long too well, just like the day before.
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The steady rise and fall of Kirigan’s chest drew Ivan away from his dark thoughts. For a few minutes, he simply stood there, observing the soothing motion. The sight was a stark contrast to the previous night, and it brought a sense of relief that Ivan hadn’t felt in hours. The gentle rhythm of Kirigan’s breathing was almost hypnotic, pulling Ivan deeper into his own fatigue.
“You should rest now.” Alina’s voice startled him out of his trance. She had taken a seat by Kirigan’s side and gently placed her hand on top of the blanket, near his shoulder. It was clear she intended to stay the night. She looked up at Ivan, her eyes still filled with concern, despite the healers having just confirmed that Kirigan was on the mend. “I only managed to get some sleep last night because I knew you were here with him and would alert me if anything happened,” she continued. “This time, it’s my turn. I promise to let you know if anything changes.”
Ivan, despite knowing better, considered staying by Kirigan’s side nonetheless, but Alina wasn’t finished. “It’s enough that one of us doesn’t know when to take care of their own needs,” she insisted softly, her voice tinged with both tenderness and sadness. Her gaze briefly flickered to the resting man before returning to Ivan. In that moment, he realized her concern was directed at him. And he had to admit she was right. He was exhausted.
With a sigh, he nodded to her and, after a final, lingering look at the peacefully sleeping Kirigan, quietly exited the infirmary.
Outside, the Grisha were still gathered in the courtyard, their faces filled with anticipation. They had clearly been waiting for Ivan, their expressions a mix of hope and lingering concern. The atmosphere had noticeably relaxed since Kirigan’s appearance, but they had also seen him falter as he tried to return inside, and were now anxiously awaiting Ivan’s update.
Ivan addressed them, his voice steady and calm. “The healers are very pleased with General Kirigan’s progress. It will take several days, but he will make a full recovery. He fell asleep quickly and is resting now.”
The news brought another wave of relief over the group. Smiles spread across their faces, and murmurs of gratitude and joy filled the air. Some nodded to each other, while others clasped hands or patted shoulders in silent celebration. The last remnants of tension that had gripped them since the incident began to melt away, replaced by a quiet, collective happiness.
Slowly, the Grisha began to disperse, making their way towards their quarters. Ivan watched them go, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. He, too, turned to head to his own room. As he walked, he felt a renewed sense of hope, confident that the General’s improving condition would allow them all to rest easier tonight.