*Terrasin deVon Almistraus*

Terrasin could feel the Hero’s blood on her hands, soaking through the torn cloth of her dress. This sticky warmth, combined with the Heroes sudden laughter, unnerved her greatly. Thankfully, they had finally reached the camp, Lady Versi was ordering the driver to call for a surgeon as soon as they arrived.

Few people trusted surgeons, and the church considered their profession to be borderline blasphemy. To defy the call of death was heresy they claimed, and the proof was that so many died anyway as God of Death exerted his will. But there was no choice, and so Terrasin prepared to lift the Hero and carry him to the surgery tent, but she was interrupted.

“Don’t bother,” The Hero had stopped laughing finally, “Your “surgeon” may as well treat me here.”

“We need to move you to the surgeons te-”

The Hero interrupted her immediately, despite the circumstances, she could not help thinking he was terribly rude!

“I will lose more blood being moved, and frankly I don’t trust any ‘surgeon’ of yours. Can’t you use magic or something?”

“Healing magic is just a fairytale,” Lady Versi scolded, annoyed at the sarcasm she heard in the Hero’s voice. “Any adult should know that our body is a blessing from the Gods, beyond mortal comprehension.”

“Oi, driver!” The Hero didn’t even bother to respond, and addressed the driver instead! Was this rude, almost barbaric man the Hero Terrasin had spent her life preparing for?

“Lord Hero?” The driver was nervous suddenly being addressed, “How can I-”

“I really don’t have time for this, you have alcohol in this camp right?”

“Lord Hero?” The driver was confused by the sudden request.

“Just bring a fucking bottle over, the higher the alcohol content the better!”

Terrasin frowned, but didn’t judge. Many surgeons had their patients drink to reduce the pain, after all.

The surgeon rushed to the carriage with his bag and attendants in tow.

“This is him?” The surgeon asked, pulling open his bag to get his needles and thread, calling for the attendants to prepare bandages.

“You, don’t move another step.” Terrasin was surprised by the sudden sharpness in the Hero’s tone. She saw that the surgeon also was taken aback.

“You are the Lord Hero, yes?” The surgeon replied, “Just from what I can see here, that wound is dangerous. Without my help, you will die.”

“Ha!”

The Hero barked a laugh and then gritted his teeth in pain, “With your help I will probably die anyway!”

“Lord Hero,” The driver returned, barely able to speak as he was out of breath from running. “I brought wine for you.”

“Lord Hero, I must stitch your wou-” The surgeon began again, but the Hero paid no attention.

“First, my name is Lucas, saying ‘Lord Hero’ is tiresome and stupid.” Lucas said, again giving Terrasin reason to remind herself that he was wounded, and to excuse his terribly barbaric manners. “Second, I don’t want an infection. Did you sterilize your tools?”

“Sterilize?” The word wasn’t translated by the enchanted items, which would only occur if there wasn’t a word for it in their language. Terrasin knew of this property but had never seen it before.

“I’ll explain later when I’m not bleeding out,” Lucas waved his other hand dismissively and gestured to the surgeons tools. “Splash the wine over your tools, including the bandages and your hands. Don’t argue, just fucking do it. Then take the remainder and pour it on the wound, and driver.” He yelled at the driver who had brought the wine, “get me something like a horsebit, but wash it with the wine before you give it to me.”

“Lord Lucas,” Lady Versi said cautiously, “What is the purpose of all this?”

Terrasin could not understand it either, but then, no one understood either of the two other Heroes when they were summoned either, but then, they displayed their powers soon after.

“It would take too long to explain, and I don’t have the time.”

“Milord, I brought the bit that you requested…”

“Perfect,” He took the bit and gestured the flustered surgeon over. “After I bite into this rinse the wound with the wine then stitch it up.”

The surgeon nodded and Terrasin watched as Lord Lucas bit on the piece of wood and leather and wine was splashed onto the wound as she and Lady Versi withdrew.

The noise Lucas made when the wine touched the wound was less a grunt and more of a scream muffled by the bit, but he didn’t move his arm an inch and let the surgeon begin to stitch up the wound. Given the sounds he was making, Terrasin guessed he was cursing even with the bit in his mouth.

Oh Gods, she prayed, what kind of Hero is this?