The Great War: Chapter 4
Even royals must do some honest work
There’s a knock on his bedroom door.
“Come in!” Samuel calls from his balcony. He already knows who is on the other side. There is only one being polite enough to knock like that.
Devin steps into the room, closing the door gently behind him. The glint of his scythe’s blade strapped to his back shines at him merrily.
Devin joins Samuel on the balcony, and the two stare out over Eros below them and Ica in the distance, ocean stretching on until it meets the fading blue sky on the horizon. The cycle is slowly coming to a close, the bright blue fading into the black of night. Bright white stars dance all around them, sharpening into view.
It’s too easy to forget that there’s a war being fought.
“Is dinner ready?” Samuel asks.
“They’ve not even started to cook yet,” Devin replies. “The first few injured arrived earlier.”
Samuel’s stomach churns, making him feel queasy. He’s not eaten anything since the midcycle, and he feels like he’s going to throw up any moment.
“They’re the healer’s problem,” he replies, trying to not make a big scene as he clutches his stomach with one hand.
Devin slightly turns his head and slides his eyes to stare at the prince, expression unchanged.
“They should be your problem as well,” he says.
Samuel opens his mouth to reply, but closes it just as quickly to swallow his rising sickness.
Devin folds his arms and adds with a firm tone, “We’re at war, whether you like it or not. This isn’t time to get sick because of imagination. This is reality, Sam. Or do you seriously expect to remain sheltered here in this castle?”
Samuel shoots Devin an irritated glare. “What in the stars are you implying?”
“If you can’t handle a war, then what makes your father’s subjects confident that you can handle being a king, let alone being a good king?”
The pair falls into tense silence, staring at one another. Samuel wants to be mad at Devin, not just irritated. His best friend just called him out on not being a good royal. He should be angry!
He lets out a sigh of defeat instead. “How come you’re always so right, Dev?”
Devin’s gaze lingers on Samuel for a spell, silent and stoic.
“My father taught me to always take into account the world beyond these castle walls,” he replies, turning back to the view beyond the balcony railing. “Everything we do in this castle not only affects this island, but every island across Astria. And even though you’re not in power currently, your actions still make impressions upon the public, Sam.”
Samuel leans on the balcony railing and looks down towards Eros. Beings still mill about, even with the light fading fast. Little candle lights glow in what windows he can see as well. Smoke rises from little chimneys as families begin preparing their evening meals.
Is him lounging on his balcony from time to time really leaving an impression on those very beings below him? He’s hardly ever left the castle from childhood to approaching adulthood. Do they even know he exists in the first place?
“I came to suggest giving the infirmary a visit,” Devin speaks calmly. “They have been having issues with their expansion project. Wouldn’t it be nice to help out your subjects?”
Samuel licks his dry lips. “Must we go inside?”
“Exposure now will help with later battles.”
“Have you spoken to father about this already?”
“No.”
“Then no.”
Devin frowns. “Why?”
Samuel just shakes his head firmly. “You know how this works, Devin. I’m not allowed to leave without his-”
“Samuel, you’re going to be an adult soon!” Devin exasperates. “20 is just around the corner and you’re still listening to your father like this? What sort of pushover prince are you?”
“Pushover?!” Samuel exclaims. Lightning cracks from the hairs of his arms and arcs to the ground, the railing, the door that separates the balcony from his bedroom, the side of the castle, and any other available surface nearby. Everything but Devin.
Devin frowns just a little deeper, completely unfazed by the lightning.
“Throw your tantrum elsewhere, Sam.”
Samuel grits his teeth, heart pounding with rage. First pushover, and now tantrum. Who does Devin think he is? A child?
His friend points a finger at Samuel and poses his final question: “Do you wish to help your subjects in their time of need, or wait for dinner to be prepared by the cooks within these castle walls?”
Samuel strides through the front gate of the castle, holding his head high with confidence. Devin shadows him from behind, silent and watchful. The prince can’t help but cast a glance at the two guards that watch the front gate, and almost breathes a sigh of relief when he sees them barely reacting to his presence. From how he is walking, they probably assume that the king allowed him out of the castle before dinner was due to start.
The only other times he left the castle was when he was young enough to hardly remember the outing, and when he was 16. Even so, it was in a cart riding to Ica to enjoy a meal by the bay.
The air of Eros carries a faint salty smell that has managed to drift all the way from the ocean. Conversations are quiet and few, as the main street is left mostly empty of other beings.
“They eat early,” Samuel comments, looking around.
“No, you just eat late,” Devin replies without skipping a beat.
“Where’s the infirmary?”
“There.” His friend points to the white tent that is the infirmary of Eros off to their left.
Samuel arches an eyebrow in confusion. That is the infirmary?
Lights glow against the white cloth walls, and he can see shadows moving around on the other side, their figures fading in and out of view. A soft buzz leaks out from underneath the tent, occasionally interrupted by muffled shouts.
Devin leads the way to the entrance of the tent, Samuel only staring on in mild awe and shock. Why is the infirmary a tent?
Devin pulls back a break in the cloth wall, revealing the interior of the infirmary, and gestures for Samuel to step in first.
Left and right there are small cots, making a single small walkway down the center. Half the cots present are full already, with healers bouncing from bedside to bedside to try and manage all of the mess. Some are healing, soft green glows surrounding their fingers, with others carrying bandages and salves, and a smaller few cleaning blood off the loose wooden plank floor as best they can.
Most of the beings in the cots have been tended to, covered in white bandages and resting peacefully. The few that are being cared for, however, have red blood spilling from cuts wherever bare skin is present.
There’s one being that catches his attention, towards the far end of the infirmary. It’s a Storm wizard - the blood-stained purple clothes gives away their magical prowess easily - propped up with their eyes closed, appearing to be sleeping, as a stone-faced healer wraps their right arm in a bandage. But… their right arm is missing from the forearm down. What the healer is bandaging up is simply the stub left over.
Samuel’s gut lurches, and he turns away from the poor wizard to keep himself composed.
That’s when he sees a Feni quickly approaching him, her face scrunched up in confusion.
“Your… Highness?” she asks unsurely, her ears twitching. The way she stands before Samuel awkwardly makes him think that she’s contemplating whether or not she should bow. “You’re… not in the castle.”
“No, I’m not,” Samuel replies slowly. “And… you are?”
“Yumi, the head healer here,” the Feni replies. Her posture straightens as she regains her confidence. Her eyes flicker up and down Samuel’s form, confusion turning into a frown of impatience. “You don’t look injured to me.”
“That’s because I’m not,” Samuel forces a chuckle.
“Then why are you here?” she asks.
“I… heard that the infirmary needed a little extra help,” Samuel replies. He glances over Yumi’s shoulder towards the right end of the infirmary. A part of the tent hangs down from the top with its end lying folded on the ground, unsupported. A collection of wooden beams lay on the floor nearby, along with a neat stack of cots waiting to be put out.
Yumi lets out a snort of disbelief. “Help? Help with what? You don’t look like you know how to heal at all.”
Samuel points to the unfinished tent behind her. “What about that?”
“Hm?” Yumi spins around to see what Samuel is pointing at. “Oh, that. Right… You’re… handy, then?”
“Ah… Well…”
“He won’t be working alone,” Devin speaks up, finally stepping forward. “I’ll be helping as well.”
“And you are?” Yumi scoffs, folding her arms.
“His bodyguard.”
“Devin,” Samuel sighs.
Yumi gives the two a strange look. If Samuel were to guess what her expression is, it’s something between disgust, surprise, confusion, and wonder.
“If you really want to, go on ahead,” she finally speaks. She raises a finger and waves it up and down the rest of the infirmary’s interior. “You can already see how the rest of the place is set up, so try and keep it consistent. Ah… if you can, that is…?”
Yumi lingers a moment longer, then rushes away without warning, checking up on the other healers. Some who can spare a spell to shoot Samuel questioning glances do so quickly, trying to not be noticed.
Samuel gestures for Devin to follow him as he starts towards the collapsed end of the infirmary.
It’s strange, how the wizards see him as royalty and yet don’t treat him as such. The unease towards his presence is disheartening, and they are clearly too busy to really treat him with any more respect than they possibly can with wizards bleeding out around them, yet it’s almost liberating to simply not be treated like the royal he is for once.
“So we’re just putting up these posts?” he hums, staring down at the four long wooden posts.
“Thereabouts,” Devin nods calmly.
Samuel lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his hands together in preparation for the laborious work ahead. “Okay, then. Let’s get this done as fast as we can.”
“Are you worried about father?”
“Yes… I am.”
Devin pats his shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t let the thought of your father push you to forsake quality work over simple completion. This is the infirmary, after all. It’s either done right, or not done at all.”
Samuel’s shoulders sag as he realizes Devin’s ultimate scheme. It’s either do a job right and risk his father’s wrath, or simply give up and return to a comfortable life within his expansive castle.
Well, he’s here now. If he were to back out of the job, it’d say a lot about him to the healers and wounded wizards behind him.
“You,” he mutters to Devin, “played me.”
Devin nods, the corners of his mouth pulling upwards into a thin yet triumphant smile. “I did.”