Orea and Kymani rested an unconscious Valtor against a tree. His head drooped forward, dark damp hair tangling across his face.
Orea quickly pulled off his shirt, her eyes scanning his bare body for the wound. Then she saw it — a deep, bloody gash running from his stomach down to his lower abdomen.
She turned to Kymani, tears already streaming down her cheeks.
"There's a cut… and it's bad."
Kymani stepped closer and handed her a wet rag.
"Here. Apply pressure to the wound."
"Okay," she whispered, sniffing as she pressed the cloth over the injury. Kymani crouched beside her, his saddened eyes fixed on their friend.
"He's still not waking up," Orea's voice cracked, panic rising. "What if we're doing it wrong?"
"He'll wake up," Kymani said softly. "He has to." He swallowed hard, forcing his voice steady. "Keep the pressure on him. I'll grab the first-aid kit."
As he turned away, Orea's trembling hand reached for Valtor's face. She cradled his head gently.
"Please come back," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please…"
Moments later, Kymani returned with the portable kit given to them from the barracks. He soaked a piece of cotton pad in an antiseptic solution and cleaned the wound carefully. Then he reached for a surgical needle and thread.
Orea shot him a nervous look.
"It's the only way to close it," Kymani said quietly, reading her thoughts.
Orea nodded, exhaling shakily. She gripped Valtor's side to keep him steady while Kymani began to stitch. The needle pierced through flesh, and Orea winced, turning her face away as more tears welled up.
The forest was silent except for her muffled sobs… and the slow, careful pull of thread through skin.
................
Valtor's eyes slowly fluttered open, his vision blurring before it came into focus. The first thing he saw was the woven vine ceiling above him.
"Ugh…" he exhaled as a wave of pain surged through his skull. How'd I get here? he wondered, shutting his eyes as fragments of memory flickered — the chaos, the fire, the dragon.
"The dragon…" he murmured aloud as he tried to push himself up. A sharp pain flared from his side, forcing a hiss through his teeth. Glancing down, he spotted the stitched wound, faint traces of dried blood still around it.
Damn… that looks bad, he admitted inwardly. I almost forgot that thing got me. He sighed, letting his head rest against the wall behind him.
Just then, the entrance flap rustled open. Footsteps approached softly.
Valtor looked up to see Orea entering, her back turned as she lowered some tools to the ground.
"Hey," he called softly.
Orea froze. Slowly, she turned around. Her eyes widened when she saw him awake.
Valtor's lips curved into a faint smile. "Hope I didn't scare you guys too much."
A tear slipped down her cheek as she crossed the room and wrapped her arms carefully around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder while avoiding the wound.
"You came back," she whispered, voice trembling.
Valtor said nothing — only raised a weak arm to pat her back gently, his faint smile lingering as her quiet sobs filled the small space.
................
Orea knelt in front of him.
"I came to check on your injury," she explained, setting a few materials beside her. "I'll let the others know you're awake once I'm done here."
Drawing out a small pack of painkillers, she handed him a tablet and a bottle of water. "Here, take this."
Valtor obeyed, swallowing as instructed, his expression twisting at its bitter taste.
"How do you feel?" Orea asked.
"Weak," he admitted.
"You'll feel much better soon enough," she assured softly.
Valtor watched as she opened a bottle and poured its contents onto a cotton pad. The sharp scent of alcohol filled the air.
"How did the fight go?" he asked. "Did you guys kill the dragon?"
Orea paused and glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"You just woke up, Valtor. Let's focus on you first." An abrupt silence followed.
"Though yes—we managed to kill the dragon."
She moved the damp pad close to his wound, then hesitated.
"You might want to hold your breath," she warned. "This'll sting."
Valtor inhaled sharply as the pad touched his skin. His eyes shut tight as a hiss escaped his lips.
"Sorry," Orea murmured, placing a gentle hand on his arm while she cleaned around the injury.
Her voice softened. "I was so scared when you fell."
Valtor's eyes opened, finding hers.
"That jump was risky," she continued quietly. "Things could've turned out so much worse. You really shouldn't do that again… ever."
"I won't," he replied. "Promise."
She dropped the stained pad and reached for a roll of bandage.
"Though I have to admit," she said with a small smile, "you were really impressive out there."
Her focus returned to her task while Valtor watched in silence, a faint smile curling at his lips.
"Everyone kept talking about the whole hovering-in-midair-on-flames thing—and that jump." She shook her head, still amazed. "It was really cool." Her gaze flicked up to him, softening. "Reckless, but cool."
She cut another strip of bandage, plastering it neatly around the cut. "Everyone's probably wondering the same thing right now… 'How did Valtor learn to fight like that?'"
Valtor tilted his head. "How about you?" he asked, drawing her attention. "What are you thinking?"
Her heart skipped. His blue eyes met her brown ones, steady and piercing, and suddenly she couldn't breathe right. She tried to keep her composure, but his gaze—and the subtle appealing display of his bare chest—made it impossible.
A wave of warmth flushed through her. She hesitated, then finally leaned closer until their lips met. Her eyes fluttered shut as the world around them faded.
Valtor responded instantly, his hand brushing the back of her neck as their lips moved in sync—slow, tender, charged with everything left unsaid.
When she finally pulled away, breath unsteady, her eyes flicked open in embarrassment. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding his gaze.
Valtor's smirk grew warm.
"So that's what you were thinking?", he teased