The Aftermath

The double doors to Sunfire Estate banged open, a crowd of shouting guards pouring in through the opening and instantly turning the foyer into utter chaos. Braeth'el strode down the hall towards the mass of elves, his voice rising over the shouting in an attempt to restore order. If he was going to be the Master at Arms, then they'd damned well better listen when he gave orders.

"Step aside at once! Clear the way so they can bring her through! Let's go people!" his voice carried through the small space.

Guards began to obey him, shifting in position, a few trying to exit the room through doors leading deeper into the estate while others tried to melt against the wall to give space. Another mass of guards poured through the opening, this time the group closely packed and carrying a limp form in their arms.

"Let's move! Get her to the dining hall. Clear the tables and chairs out of the way and get a divan in there immediately!" Braeth'el shouted.

Guards immediately jumped to obey him, pouring into the dining hall and moving the furniture. The sounds of wooden chairs on marble flooring could be heard through the hallway. The tightly packed mass of guards neared Braeth'el and he could finally see through the crowd to spot her.

Biara was a bloody mess. Semi-conscious and being carried by six of her guardsmen, it was obvious she had been in brutal combat and had not fared well. That she needed immediate medical attention was beyond question; Braeth'el only hoped he was up to the task of getting it to her in time given his new position.

"Let's go! I want her in that room on a divan in less than thirty seconds do you hear me?! You there, summon the Blood Knights! We need at least two healers. You and you, seal off the hallways and get these people out of here!" Braeth'el barked.

Guards hopped to obey, the six carrying the wounded Magistrix bursting into the dining hall where a red and gold divan had been placed and the furniture had been cleared to the side. As the men carried her, Braeth'el could see blood dripping steadily from her right arm, which hung limply down. Her head lolled in time to their movements, and her face was ashen; none of these were good signs.

Biara was quickly and gently placed on the divan, the guards that had been carrying her scurrying out of the way as Braeth'el made his way to her side. A quick visual inspection revealed that she had been badly wounded on her arm, likely from a blade, her dress was torn at her left side and scorched, and there was soot on the left side of her face with blood trickling from a cut on her mouth. All of her limbs seemed to be intact otherwise though, and Braeth'el came to the conclusion that she likely didn't have any broken bones. The loss of blood was concerning however, and he knelt down beside her as the door to the dining hall burst opened and two plate-armored blood knights rushed into the room.

Biara moaned, her arm gushing blood onto the white marble floor, the crimson liquid spattering the stones. Her eyes were glassy, and Braeth'el drew a knife, gently starting to cut away the fabric of her dress on her right arm, his voice calm, "Easy, Biara. It's going to be alright. Just hang in there okay? We've got healers here."

One of the blood knights came to a halt next to Biara's left side, prayers already on her lips as she held her hands over the wound to the Magistrix's side. That was a minor concern though, and the second blood knight looked at the revealed arm with a frown; the flesh on her inner arm had been torn by a blade, the slice easily ten inches long and spilling her life blood. It required immediate attention to ensure that she would survive the blood loss.

Biara moaned again, her head rolling to the side. Dully her eyes made contact with Braeth'el, her voice weak, "T-take care of Kyli for me. P-promise me."

Braeth'el shook his head, his voice firm, "Don't talk like that; you're going to be fine. Are all Magistrixes as dramatic as you? Besides, you know I'll take care of Kyli. That should never have been a question."

Biara smiled, her eyes starting to roll as her gaze became unfocused. The blood knight kneeling on Biara's left began to pray, his hands over the wound, "Sir, we're going to need to stitch this. The wound is too serious and the blood loss is too great. Myriel, I'm going to need your assistance with this one. Her other wounds can wait."

The second blood knight nodded, finishing her prayer and hurrying around to Biara's left side. She looked at Braeth'el and shook her head, "This is going to hurt. Try to keep her conscious, sir. It would be better if she didn't pass out right now."

Braeth'el nodded and gave the two blood knights some space, turning to walk around to Biara's other side. He took her hand in his own, blood making the grip slick and wet. His voice was firm, "Biara. Look at me and focus on my voice. You need to stay with us okay?"

Biara's head lolled towards him, her eyes barely focusing on him, "Braeth'el? There was a battle. Alliance raiders...or mercenaries...I don't know. Many died, I-I couldn't stop them..."

Her grip on his hand tightened with immense pressure as one of the blood knights began to stitch her wound closed, the second blood knight praying over the injury. Biara's eyes began to close, and Braeth'el quickly reached out with his free hand, taking her face in his hand by her cheeks, forcing her to look at him, "Biara'thiel Dayfire! Stay. Awake. Do you understand me?"

Biara's eyes snapped back open, locking with his as a cry escaped her, the pain of the stitching process evident in the tightness of her grip, "I-I'm here. S-sorry...I feel sleepy. My arm hurts..."

Braeth'el released her head, kneeling beside her, "It's okay, they're almost done. It's just a little flesh wound and they'll have it fixed up in no time. You might have a little scar there when it's all done, but nothing too bad."

Biara's nose crinkled and she shook her head slightly, "Just another one....doesn't make a difference..."

The praying blood knight finished his spell, light flowing into the Magistrix's arm. She sighed in relief as the healing power flowed through her, the wound closing tightly around the stitches and the terrible blood loss halted. It was clear by her slack grip that the pain had also receded a bit.

In that moment, the door to the dining hall banged opened and a crowd of elves began to pour into the room, all shouting questions of concern. Amongst them were several of Biara's apprentices, Rayleth included. His eyes locked with Biara, his gaze taking in the blood all over the floor, the wounds she'd suffered, and the condition of her clothing and body. Biara instantly saw him, and tried to sit up straighter, her chin held up as if in defiance, as if to show him that this is who and what she was.

In that moment as their gazes met, Biara saw fear flash across Rayleth's face. He tried to hide it, tried to force it down, but it had been enough. Biara had seen that look a thousand times on the faces of many suitors; the look of horror that dawned on each of them when they came to understand what her life was. Rayleth crushed it down deep inside, his expression changing a fraction of a second later, but Biara had seen enough to know.

The blood knights beside Biara rose, their voices shouting at the others to get out of the room immediately, to give her space to breathe, to give her time to heal, but Biara didn't need any of that. She just needed something she couldn't touch, something she could only feel. As the last of the elves, including Rayleth, were shooed from the room by Kyliska's angry blood knights, Biara felt tears on her cheeks.

Braeth'el knelt back down beside her, and in an instant she had wrapped her uninjured arm around him, weeping bitterly. Although surprised for a moment, Braeth'el nodded, putting an arm around the weeping Magistrix and gently patting her back and making circles with the palm of his hand, "It's okay, Biara. We all fall down sometimes. I know what this is about; he had to see it. He'd seen it in Draenor from what you've told me, but that was war. Now he knows that this is life with you. Give him time to absorb it, and I'm sure he'll come around."

For a time Biara said nothing, merely weeping against him until she'd finally shed all her tears. Exhausted, she released her grip on him, easing herself back down onto the divan in obvious pain. The blood knights stood over her, still praying to ease her pain further.

Braeth'el stood up, looking down at her and shaking his head, "You're taking this way harder than you normally do. I've seen you injured about a million times now and you're not even halfway to 'fucked up' as I've thought of your condition on a few occasions. Don't take it so hard; it's just a scratch."

Biara grimaced at him, shaking her head, "Does it look okay? I don't even want to look at it..."

Braeth'el grinned, trying to ease the tension, "No, your hair is an un-salvageable disaster I'm afraid. You're going to have to start all over at the beauty salon. I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

Biara grinned, too exhausted to even swat at him with her hand, "You're terrible, you know that right?"

"Oh, I know. I've got more bad news for you, by the way," Braeth'el replied. "Since your sister made me Master at Arms, I'm afraid I'm going to have to confine you to bed for the rest of the evening and day tomorrow so you can recover." He glanced over at the two blood knights, who nodded their approval at him. "I don't want to hear any arguments about it either, young lady."

Biara smiled, letting go of both her physical and emotional pain for the moment, nodding at him, "You always know the right thing to say, Braeth'el. I can see now why she loves you. One day one of these battles will take me from her, and I'm glad to know that she'd got someone like you to watch over her. I know we spoke of this before, but know that you have my blessing to court her. I would welcome such a man as you into my family."

Braeth'el's grin widened, and he patted Biara on the hand, "Admitting you were wrong? You really were wounded badly weren't you? Very well, Magistrix, I shall consider this an official command to see to your sister's every need. In the meanwhile though, we will see to yours; bed rest and some food and drink are in order. I'll get the guards to take you there, and no, you're not walking on your own."

Biara sighed, shaking her head, "Very well. I shall submit to your authority in this matter my friend."

"Good, I'll be right back with the guards to help us with this," he said, nodding at her.

Braeth'el turned to leave and Baira watched him go, her own thoughts swirling through her mind and clouded by pain. Her very career had thrown a wrench into her personal relationships, as it always did, and she was going to have to find a way around that problem one way or another. She'd be damned if a little spilled blood would spell the end of yet another romance.

As she was carried towards her quarters by a quartet of silent blood knights, Biara finally let the pain and exhaustion overcome her, and drifted into an uneasy rest, her mind still picking at the question until blessed unconsciousness took her fully.