Sagas head buzzed, it was like a million flies were whirring about within their skull. All screaming in rage and pain. And then, there was a big hand, comforting solid as a rock. And a voice that they vaguely remembered, that cut trough the buzzing. They stepped forward, unsure where this voice came from or who possessed that kind energy. They buried their face, heaving and trembling in such white hot pain and felt their body slump. They wanted to cry but nothing came but strained noises. And then another aura, another voice and another body joined, and they felt a measure of peace, of safety again. Whoever these people were, who could cut trough the pain and the rage, they must be truly amazing.

Vetra had seen battle damage before. And she had heard about how Berserkers many times fought with near lethal injuries like it was nothing. But seeing the young warrior they had just saved a week and a half ago, staggering into the secure embrace of Olaf, who was obviously just as worried as Vetra, was something that cut into her heart.

She quickly moved over to gingerly untangle Saga from Olaf who let the fledgling berserker go. Saga followed with an unfocused look to their eyes, breathing heavily through what was clearly immense pain. Sitting Saga down on a rock, Vetra began tending their wounds. She had already seen the still living guard and luckily none of the non-combatants had been badly hurt. She ran her finger along the arm, assessing that it was broken in multiple places. Saga was wincing and shaking, flinching as Vetra carefully and as gently as she could traced the arm for any other damage. She motioned for Sasha to come over and the purple haired warrior jogged over. Her own injuries were already healing, having been mostly shallow cuts and bruising, and her face was the most worried of them all.

“We can fix your arm” Vetra said to Saga who just nodded, a bit of sharpness returning to those eyes which surprised Vetra. What kind of bottomless will did the berserker possess to bring themselves even partly out of such terrible state. “It will hurt like the mother of all pains. Sasha, I will need to hold them. They are not going to like this one bit. Knitting bone is a really difficult procedure without a thrashing patient.” Vetra said as Sasha nodded. She slipped behind Saga and held the now shaking young warrior to her. Large arms wrapped about the healthy side and another hooked up to hold from the other, underneath the injured arm. Saga was shaking like a leaf as their limp arm was gently lifted and Vetra grabbed the shoulder and wrist in either hand. Then she closed her eyes and started chanting in a language Saga did not understand. Her words each held an strange echo to it, it was a melody that gently wrapped about each word, making you hear music that should not be there. It was woven into each syllable and it was briefly given the chance to vocalize.

Motes of green light wrapped about their arm and sank in into it, slipping trough the skin as if it wasn't there. As the magic worked, green spots of light shone across the skin where the damage was at its worst. First the worst of the bruising began to dissipate as the healing slowly worked its way through burst vessels and damaged tissue, mending skin and flesh where it could do so without issue. It had a strange, itching feeling. As if there were a million ants crawling about. It made Saga squirm and her body quiver in discomfort. But then came the pain.

Saga screamed, a hoarse, begging noise that cut through the post fight silence. Sasha buried her face in Sagas neck, holding her down and while telling them to hold on with such fervor and passion it might as well have been a prayer. But Saga did not hear them, didn't hear anything. The pain was all they knew, the beating of their heart was all they heard. The white hot, searing pain that shot trough their arm was angry, violent god that hated them.

“Listen to me Saga. You are stronger then this. You got this. Focus on me. I swear it will be better. It will pass.” Sashas voice began to somehow break trough the pain to become an anchor for Saga as she screamed with pain that was so intense it might as well have been dredged from the depths of the deepest and vilest corners of Nifleheim. Tears streamed down their face as they bit down on a piece of wood so hard they could feel their teeth sink into the hard fiber. Piece after piece, shard after shard moved back in place. They sobbed, begged for it to stop, begged for death even. And then, it was done. The bones were knitted back in place, the pain of the torn flesh ebbing away as it mended. They huffed and whined, sobbing quietly as Vetra removed her hands shakily from Saga. The half-giant had tears in her eyes, and a look of relief as she saw Saga stare at their arm. It was bruised and in ugly red and purples, but as they moved their fingers, everything worked just as new. Even through the haze of the pain and its effects, they knew a miracle when they saw it. Swallowing softly they let their head slump back against Sasha while looking to the concerned Half-giant that they now considered a lifelong friend.

“Thank you Vetra.” They said softly. “This is twice you saved me.” Vetras patient said, sweat clining to their head, their eyes having some of that sharpness back. Saga let a hand drift up to touch Sashas arm that wrapped about their body protectively. smiled softly. The fey-touched woman was holding onto her friend as if she was about to float away if she let go. Vetra just shook her head and rose to her feet.

“Try to not get yourself half killed so often.” She said, letting Saga rest in Sashas arm as she went to talk to the others who were huddling up and talking together. Saga watched her for a second then turned their head to Sasha who had not looked up from Sagas neck. Saga could feel the wetness of tears against their skin and reached up to play with some of that deep purple hair.

“Sasha?” They asked, voice strained from screaming and shaking with nerves.

“Yes.” Sasha looked down to see Saga staring up at her with eyes so big and full insecure emotions. It was not a look they had seen on their friend before. All the while the cogs in the berskers head slowly moved to put words in an order that might pass for a full sentence. They began their very earnest attempt at something they had not done in years. Asking someone on a date.

“Once we reach Aleport. After we speak to the Goddess of Death.” Saga said, looking out into he distace, trying to figure out how to go about their next few words.

“Yes?” Sasha spoke softly, a slight smile on her lips. Her eyes widening slightly as she clearly wanted to hear the next words as badly as Saga wanted to say them.

“I’d like to talk. And drink” It wasn't very elegant. Or very suave. It was very Saga however, and it made Sasha laugh loud enough for Ordan to turn his head and look. Sasha stifled the laugh as Saga stared at her mortified.

“Hah. And to think Auntie thought I would have to make the first move” Sasha said, with a voice that sounded half between crying and laughing. She hugged the still somewhat mortified berserker in a hug that soon melted away Sagas embarrassment.

“Oh she was right.” Saga said. “I consider going apeshit on the person who almost killed me a solid first move”

“I have no idea what an ape is, but I think I understand.” Sasha said with a soft murmur and and the two leaned on each other, still in half an embrace. Looking out at the scene of the battle as they just let the feeling settle. In that moment, nothing else really mattered to either of them.

After a while, Olaf came over to sit down next to them. His shield was on his back, and from the look of things, that shield had stood up to the magical equivalent of a blowtorch. The oak woods were scorched and cracked and only a few of the runes glowed with any powers. The warrior himself looked mostly unharmed, which spoke to the difference in skill and level between him and his opponents.

“It’s a lot.” He said as they looked over to his large form. He didn't sit down with them but stood to the side, joining them in the people watching. Several of the caravans regular folks were bending pieces of the destroyed rear wagon and using them to repair the other wagons.

“How is Ingrid.” Saga asked, concern clear in their voice. They had heard the crack of thunder as well as anyone. And while Ingrid had clearly been mostly fine, physically speaking, she had seemed so distraught.

“Her mount is badly injured. Even if we get her healed, she will never be the same. We will do what we can. But Ingrid will have to leave them at the family farm once at Aleport. An animal who gets that hurt will forever be skittish and traumatized. It’s breaking her heart. She had her for years.” He said, looking over to where Ingrid cradled the large creature's head in both arms, burying her face in its fur. Vetra was tending to its flank, painstakingly healing the burned and charred flesh. They watched in silence, hoping and silently praying.

After a while, Vetra moved away, and Ingrid gently let go. The massive Renn got up unsteady legs, wobbling. Vetra was soaked in sweat as she smiled weakly, only for Ingrid to hug her so hard as to make even the Half-Giant wince. Olaf rose again, handing them each a small pouch of coin. “Your share of the spoils. I need to confess my undying love to a woman before she elopes with our healer.” He said with what Saga assumed was a salute.

Saga looked at the coin pouch that now rested in their hand. It was a lot of coins. The berserker didn't have a grip of the economy yet, but they knew people in the north traded in copper, silver and gold mainly. Taking a peak inside they counted twenty two silver coins and at least fifty copper. They felt like they should be morally opposed to taking the money of dead folk. But they had almost died to these people. Morality, they felt, was firmly in their court.

“Sasha” Saga said as they looked at the purse of coins. As if the weight in their hand had a specific meaning.

“Yes?” Sasha looked to Saga who sighed and put the money away before running a hand through their messy, matted hair. It was sticky with sweat and even a little dried blood and made Saga feel more than a little disgusting. They hoped they could stop by a creek or something. They ran a hand across Sashas tattoos, tracing the intricate ink work as it glowed with faint magic. The runes were foreign to them, similar but different to anything found in their old world.

“I don’t know what the future holds. I have been here for a week.” Saga sighed, voice tired and uncertain. But Sasha just squeezed them harder in the hug and rested her head chin on the least bruised of Sagas shoulders.

“I am aware, yes.” Sasha mused. “Are you retracting your offer for…Drinks”

“No. I am just saying. You are throwing in with someone who has no clue about anything and who is quite possibly running blindly into fire.”

“Mhm.” Sasha leaned in. “You are wrong, Saga Ljungborg. You are not running blindly into fire.” She tilted Sagas face up to her own. The two shared a moment of just staring at one another. “You are that fire.” Sashas voice was low, like a whisper.

The kiss, was also like fire.