Chapter 24 CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AERIS
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my breath past the ache radiating through my spine.
Footsteps approached. Captain Neris.
“What happened here?” His voice snapped like lightning.
Rowan spoke first.
.
“I’m sorry, Captain.” His tone was crisp, respectful,perfectly neutral. “She stepped back unexpectedly. My swing connected.”
Liar.
Even with my head down, I felt it.
That quiet satisfaction leaking off him.
A smile without lips.
A smirk without a face.
Captain Neris’s jaw tightened. “You swung from behind her?”
Rowan lowered his blade slowly, as if presenting evidence of innocence.
“I moved to a new angle. She didn’t track it.”
He even threw in a faint crease between his brows, like he was concerned for me.
Like I was the problem.
Neris stared at him, unmoving.
Rowan held the eye contact calmly…too calmly.
Then Neris shifted his attention to me. “Aeris, can you stand?”
“I’m fine,” I muttered, pushing myself upright before Rhea could grab my arm again. The pain flared, white and sharp, but I swallowed it.
Rowan stepped forward slightly. “I didn’t mean to injure her, Captain.”
His voice sounded almost gentle.
Almost.
But his eyes…when they flicked to me for half a heartbeat were nothing close to gentle.
There was something calculated there.
Something cold.
Something that said: I know exactly what I did. And I’m not done.
Neris exhaled sharply, clearly not convinced but also aware this wasn’t the moment for a full confrontation.
“Rowan,” he said tightly, “you will give the iron post twenty full-strength strikes.”
Rowan nodded immediately. “Of course, Captain. If it helps reinforce discipline.”
There it was again…that subtle twist in his voice.
Polite on the surface.
Mocking underneath.
Rhea muttered, “I swear on the stars, I will choke him with his own scabbard.”
“Rhea,” I hissed, but my voice shook.
Neris pointed me back into formation. “Thalorian. Weapon up.”
I breathed shallowly, gripping the staff again. My arm trembled from the hit, but I squared my stance anyway.
The moment Neris barked for us to resume, I tried—
I really tried..to plant my feet, square my shoulders, and lift the staff like nothing happened.
But the pain wasn’t just sharp anymore.
It dragged down my arm in a sickening pull, like something inside had shifted out of place. My fingers tingled. My grip faltered.
When I tried to pivot into the basic defensive stance, my shoulder gave a horrible, grinding protest.
A crack.
Or something close to one.
My knees wobbled.
“Aeris?” Rhea’s voice was suddenly right beside me. “Hey,hey, you’re not okay.”
“I’m fine,” I whispered, but the words came out thin and strained.
I lifted the staff again anyway.
My arm buckled halfway.
The world tilted.
Rhea grabbed my waist before I could faceplant into the dirt. “You’re not fine. Your shoulder’s sitting lower. Something’s wrong.”
I clenched my jaw so hard it throbbed. “It’s…just bruised.”
But when I moved even slightly, a bolt of pain shot so violently down my arm that tears blurred my vision.
Rhea’s eyes widened. “Nope. Absolutely not. Captain Neris!” she shouted before I could stop her. “She needs the Healer’s Wing!”
A few heads turned. Neris strode toward us, annoyance sharp until he saw me trying, and failing, to stand straight.
“Thalorian, drop the weapon,” he ordered.
I opened my mouth to argue and then my wrist gave out. The staff slipped from my fingers and hit the ground with a dull thud.
That ended the discussion.
Neris exhaled through his nose. “Rhea, take her to the Healers. Now”
“With pleasure,” Rhea muttered, looping my arm over her shoulder.
Walking hurt.
Every step jarred the injury, scalding pain burning down my arm and up into my neck. I hissed through my teeth, trying not to curse or collapse.
“You should’ve said something earlier,” Rhea whispered.
“I thought…I could handle it.”
“You thought wrong,” she snapped. Then softer: “Aeris, if your bone’s cracked—”
“I know.”
The Healer’s Wing loomed ahead…an open-arched building of pale stone with soft blue ward-lights glowing beneath its roof. The air inside always smelled faintly of herbs and moonwater.
Rhea pushed the door with her foot and half-dragged me inside.
A healer in sky-blue robes turned immediately. “What happened?”
“Training accident,” Rhea said. “Her shoulder made a sound shoulders shouldn’t make.”
The healer approached, hands glowing faintly as she scanned the injury. Her eyes narrowed.
“Dislocation with strain. Possibly a hairline fracture. Sit her on the cot.”
Rhea helped me down carefully. My legs finally gave out and I let myself sink onto the cool sheets.
The healer positioned my arm with practiced gentleness. “This will hurt,” she warned.
I braced myself.
She wasn’t exaggerating.
Pain ripped through me as she maneuvered the joint back into place. A cry tore out of my throat before I could swallow it.
Rhea squeezed my uninjured hand. “Breathe. Just breathe.”
The healer pressed her glowing palm over my shoulder, warmth flooding through the bone like liquid sunlight.
Slowly…slowly,the pain eased.
The throbbing dulled.
My vision steadied.
“You’ll be fine,” the healer said at last, stepping back. “No more training for the rest of the day. Let it settle.”
I nodded shakily, my good hand gripping the edge of the cot like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
The healer reached into a cabinet beside her bed of supplies. “I’m giving you a dose of moonwater sedative. Your body needs rest, not adrenaline. Drink it.”
She poured a shimmering, pale liquid into a small glass. It glowed faintly as if someone had trapped moonlight inside it.
Rhea wrinkled her nose. “That stuff tastes like wet socks.”
The healer shot her a look. “It tastes like mint and safety. And if you argue, you can wait outside.”
Rhea zipped her lips.
I exhaled and took the cup.
The first sip was cool, sweet, and slightly metallic. Like mint mixed with frost. The second sip slid warmth through my throat and into my chest. By the third—
My limbs felt heavy.
My breathing slowed.
The edges of the room softened.
The healer gently guided me to lie down. “Sleep,” she murmured. “Your body will heal faster.”
I wanted to protest…I still needed to think, to make sense of Rowan, of training, of everything..
But the sedative curled through my veins, wrapping my thoughts in soft, velvety fog.
The healer dimmed the ward-lights around my cot.
And darkness seeped in.
Not frightening darkness…
but slow, warm, heavy darkness that pulled me under like a soft tide.
My eyelids fluttered.
My thoughts dissolved.
My breath steadied.
And then—
Nothing.
Just deep, helpless sleep.