Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
The elderly man, broad-shouldered and strong in his ornate garb, but gray with the passage of time, nodded his head as he mulled over the rather unusual situation. “She is a fighter; I’ll give her that.”
Draikis’s full lips cracked a little grin. “Indeed, Elder Soparo. Though we are unfamiliar with her race, she is definitely a resilient specimen.”
“Odd we have no record of her kind,” the older man mused.
“The Dotharian archives are vast, but new additions gained in the expansion do take time. If she is of one of those worlds, it could be several cycles before the absorption is complete and her kind is officially listed as a Dotharian realm in the public register.”
“Indeed.” Elder Soparo shrugged. “Whatever the case, she is our responsibility for now, and she will require a great deal of attention. We can heal her injuries, it seems, but it will take time. Time, and resources.”
Draikis’s shoulders pulled back slightly. Proud. Confident. “I am the one who rescued her. She is my responsibility.”
“You were injured yourself, my boy. It is fine if you wish for one of the others to take over for you.”
“I’m fine, I assure you. I’m healing right up. The burns were only superficial, and compared to what this woman endured, they are laughably minor. So, if you approve, I will continue my sacred duty to care for the life I saved.”
The old priest cracked a pleased smile. “Your dedication to your oath and duties has always been an inspiration to the others. A guiding star, of sorts. Of course, you may help her on her healing path.” A minor flash of concern crossed Soparo’s face, gone in an instant, but the thought lingered.
“But you know, Draikis, it has been a very long time since a female has been permitted within these walls.”
“I am aware,” he replied, already knowing where this was going. “But she will be bedridden for some time. Sequestered in that manner, she will not be much of a distraction for the younger adepts.”
“Those poor lads,” Soparo said with a chuckle. “I may be old, but I remember my younger days. It can be a trying age.”
“It can. But even if they did happen upon her, their vows are strong. They will remain true to their calling. To their oaths. They are a strong group of young men, and short of an Infala bond, which is incredibly unlikely given their youth, all should be fine. Besides, we do not even know the status of her runes. The outer layers of her skin were badly burned. Whether the pigments even survived the flames remains to be seen.”
“The poor woman. I do not envy her this road to recovery. And if she has truly lost her runes? They are such an integral part of our lives. I am loath to imagine what she would go through. But out of all, the Infala is the most powerful rune, as you well know. Robust and all-encompassing. With that power, there is still a chance it may well have survived, even having suffered the most serious of injuries such as hers.”
“True. And I am hopeful for her. Regardless, she will heal at her own pace. And the process will take place well away from the adepts. As for the rest of us,” Draikis said, tapping the rune on his chest under his tunic, “we do not have to worry about that. Neither female wiles, nor the draw of the Infala can overcome our vows.”
“Well said, Brother Draikis. Still, these will be interesting times, my boy. Interesting times, indeed. If she survives.”