Leon's breath came in shallow gasps as he leaned against the barricade, the smooth stone still clutched in his sweaty palm.
The battlefield's chaos had subsided, leaving a grim tableau of smoldering monster corpses and exhausted townsfolk.
The war drums had faded, but the air still crackled with tension, the fog curling around Eldwood's edges like a predator waiting to strike.
His legs trembled, his body drained from healing two fighters, and the faint tingle of his magic had sputtered out like a dying candle.
I'm barely keeping up, he thought, his heart still racing. And she's saying I need to do more?
Saria stood a few feet away, her sword sheathed, her black ponytail barely mussed despite the carnage she'd wrought.
Her face remained an unyielding mask, her dark eyes scanning the horizon for signs of another attack.
The faint glow of her fiery aura lingered around her hands, a reminder of the magic Leon had helped restore. He wanted to feel proud, but all he felt was exhaustion and the nagging fear that he was still a fish out of water in this brutal world.
A grizzled spearman clapped Leon's shoulder, jolting him from his thoughts.
"Nice work, Doc," the man said, his voice rough but grateful. "Saved my arm back there." He nodded toward the barricade, where the archer Leon had healed was restringing her bow, her leg now steady.
Leon forced a shaky smile, his face flushing. "Uh, thanks. Just… doing my thing, I guess." His voice cracked, betraying his nerves.
Doc? Me?
The nickname felt absurd, like he was playing a role in someone else's story.
He glanced at Saria, hoping for a nod of approval, but her expression didn't shift, her focus still on the fog.
Granny Elda hobbled over, her staff tapping the ground, her wrinkled face split by a mischievous grin.
"Not dead yet, boy? Good. Thought you'd keel over from fright." She cackled, her eyes glinting as she leaned closer. "But your magic's weak as watered-down ale. Gotta fix that."
Leon's stomach twisted.
"Weak? I healed two people!" he protested, though his voice lacked conviction. He could still feel the emptiness where his magic had been, like a battery drained to nothing. "What am I supposed to do, just… will it back?"
Saria turned, her dark eyes locking onto his.
"Your magic's tied to arousal," she said, her tone as flat as ever, like she was discussing weapon maintenance. "You used it up healing. You need to recharge." She stepped closer, her presence towering despite her calm demeanor.
Leon's face burned, his mind flashing to the ritual in the chamber—her lips, her tongue, the overwhelming surge of pleasure and power.
"Recharge?" he squeaked, his voice hitting a pitch he wasn't proud of. "You mean… like, now? Here?" He glanced around, the battlefield littered with blood and ash, the townsfolk busy tending wounds or reinforcing the barricade.
The idea of anything intimate in this chaos was both mortifying and, embarrassingly, thrilling.
Saria's expression didn't change, but her eyes flicked to the side, toward a crumbling stone wall a few yards away, partially hidden by the fog.
"Not here," she said, her voice low. "Follow me." She turned, her movements precise, and headed toward the wall, not waiting to see if he'd follow.
Leon's heart leapt into his throat. He glanced at Granny Elda, who was cackling again, her staff tapping rhythmically.
"Go on, boy," she said, smirking. "Get your spark back. Don't keep the lady waiting."
Leon swallowed hard, his legs moving before his brain caught up.
He stumbled after Saria, the stone still clutched in his hand, its faint warmth a small comfort against the growing panic in his chest.
This is insane. I'm in a war zone, and she wants to… what, make out?
But the memory of his magic fading, leaving him useless as the wounded cried out, pushed him forward.
He needed to be ready, for Eldwood, for Saria.
That is what's important here.
Right?
She led him behind the wall, where the fog was thicker, muffling the sounds of the battlefield. The air was cool, heavy with the scent of damp earth and smoke.
Saria turned, her face still a blank mask, but her eyes burned with an intensity that made Leon's breath catch.
"Your magic's drained," she said, stepping closer, her leather tunic creaking softly. "This will fix it."
Before he could respond, she closed the distance, her lips pressing into his with a force that made him stagger.