"Never believe anyone who says that after you win a battle you're already past the hard part. More often than not, the mess that awaited you after a battle is won, is many times more difficult to handle.

Between caring for the wounded, taking care or finishing off enemy prisoners, writing the letters of condolences for those who perished in the line of duty, all while keeping the morale up should there be another battle to fight the next day…

Yeah, I'd much rather fight another battle than deal with that mess." - Faerghus Fiachna, second in command of the Vitalican Templar Order, circa 45 VA.

When Diarmuid and Tirya reached the western sector of the battlefield from their respective areas after they had repelled the raiders, they were surprised to find that the soldiers there were already done fighting and busy with the aftermath instead. The western sector had received the least reinforcements, and they had thought the battle there would last the longest.

As they reached there at roughly the same time, Diarmuid quickly delegated the task to recap their losses and the enemy's losses to Tirya, while he looked around for his little sister amongst the busy crowd. It took him a good five minutes of searching before he found her, as he was unwilling to raise his voice in the presence of so many injured soldiers.

Diarmuid found Aideen crouched over a makeshift cot on which many more seriously injured soldiers lay on, as she tirelessly worked her magic to heal their injuries as fast as she could. Once a soldier's injury was mostly healed, they were brought away for further treatment elsewhere and a different injured soldier was brought to their previous place instead.

"Sister," Diarmuid said with some worry, as Aideen looked far paler than usual, and although she had covered herself with a cloak, he could still see the tattered, blood drenched tunic underneath it, as well as what it implied. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, hi, brother," replied Aideen with a tired voice. She barely glanced at her brother as her hands were kept busy by her patients, and healthy soldiers kept bringing the severely wounded over to her. "I'll be fine… just a few more to go… how fares the battle?"

"We have won the field for the time being. The raiders were repelled with heavy losses, and likely wouldn't be returning our way," answered Diarmuid. He couldn't help but worry at how tired Aideen looked, not after never having seen her even look remotely winded ever since her rise to unlife over a decade ago. Yet he also knew his sister's personality, and he knew she wouldn't stop until she either collapsed from exhaustion, or until her task was done. "Tirya is still finding out how much we have lost, but it is looking rather grim."

"I… see," replied Aideen with a saddened sigh. As gifted as she was as a healer, she couldn't be at two places at the same time, and even then, she wouldn't have enough mana in her to carry on the work in other sectors as well. That lives would inevitably be lost because of those limitations, pained her heart deeply. "Would we be giving chase?"

"No, tonight we will rest and recuperate," Diarmuid said to her question. While he would have preferred to head straight to reinforce Faerghus' detachment, a human body's physical limitations made that impossible to do, as they needed some rest before they went on to possibly another battle. "First thing in the morning tomorrow, we will march northwards."

"Understood," noted Aideen as she kept working on her patients. A soldier who was desperately holding his innards inside him despite a massive tear on his abdomen watched with wonderment as the horrible wound sealed shut within seconds, while Aideen moved on to the next patient. By now no new injured soldier had been brought to her, so the five that remained on the cot would be the last for her to help.

"Sir," chimed in Tirya as she approached Diarmuid and Aideen, and gave them a sharp salute as Diarmuid turned to face her. "The numbers have been… Tallied."

"How bad is it?" Responded Diarmuid. From the grim look on Tirya's face he knew that the news she brought was unlikely to be pleasant to hear, but there was nothing he could do about that. "Give it to me straight."

"Our Death Guards has thirty two losses, and another eighteen would need extended recuperation to recover properly from their injuries," said Tirya as she winced. Diarmuid similarly winced at the news, as that was a full quarter of the Death Guards in the casualty list. "As for the militia… four hundred and ninety seven died. Another three hundred heavily injured but would survive. The western sector had the least casualties thanks to the young lady's work here."

"And the elves?" Diarmuid asked with some trepidation. They were down nearly half their forces from this clash alone, and unless the elven raiders were properly crippled they risked them returning.

"Less than three hundred escaped. Reports indicated that the young lady had slain their leader, and that had broken their morale."

"Still a sizable amount…" Diarmuid said as he pondered for a moment. "Aideen, do you think you can handle some more healing while we are on the move?"

"I should manage after a night's rest, yes," Aideen replied with a tired voice as she finished healing the last of her patients. "Why?"

"We will take a hundred of the Death Guards, plus the injured, and three hundred of the militia with us and ride north tomorrow. The rest will guard here in case the elves return," answered Diarmuid with an apologetic tone when he saw how tired his sister looked. "I would like you to heal them while we travel."

"I can do that, yes…" Aideen said as she just slumped down unceremoniously on the cot out of fatigue. "Just… let me rest for now."

"Rest well, sister," he said as he nodded and covered his sleeping sister with a blanket, before he went on to his other duties.