Edited by Iseul

Evening came as the sky set into dusk.

Leonel, being the pig that he was, stirred impatiently. “I’m hungry,” he huffed before getting up from the cot. Standing up to full height, his head wasn’t that far from the low ceiling. He loomed over Julian, casting a tall shadow over the humble doctor who sat quietly at his desk.

It was then that it dawned on Julian that the peace and quiet he enjoyed for the past few minutes had all been a lie. He stopped his work to glare at the imposing inquisitor. “Stop complaining already and lie back down.”

“I’m hungry,” Leonel repeated as though he wasn’t listening at all, his gaze veering toward Dog. The beast had been sleeping on top of the stuffed bear. “Do you really not have more food around this place?” The wyvern perked up from the gaze, feeling a sudden chill down its spine, as though it had been spotted by a ravenous predator.

“No,” Julian answered dryly, still glaring at the tall man who ruefully ignored him.

“I can go hunt dinner then—“

This imbecile! Julian was going to pop a vein. “Absolutely not!” he shrilled. "You will sit still and not anger your wounds any further. Tomorrow you will assist me with groceries."

"What about tonight? I want to eat," Leonel had the gall to say.

"Starve." Julian sneered. But of the two of them, who was the one truly starving!? While this fatty dined on Julian’s stock, demolishing everything in a single meal, the doctor had nothing but a single apricot that morning.

Grumbling in self-pity, Julian adjusted his glasses while he turned back around to deal with the work he had laid out over his desk— only to be distracted by a deep sigh coming from behind him. Julian chanced a glance and much to his disbelief, Leonel did not return to the cot and instead found interest in the hammock—

“Brat! That is my bed,” Julian complained with a hiss.

“It’s not even a bed,” Leonel scoffed while reaching over to the book he had left on the cot. Julian watched in horror while the inquisitor stretched like a damned cat.

“If you reopen your wounds and start bleeding all over my things, you best be prepared to cover the costs.”

“…”

As expected, the inquisitor ignored him. Julian decided that he neither had the time nor energy to deal with an overgrown manchild. Speaking of which, was that book really the one Julian thought it was? He squinted past his glasses, trying to make out the title that Leonel had in his hands.

Julian was rather proud of his collection of books, which ranged from rare, to absurd and most definitely a few illegal titles as well. But of all the interesting reads that Julian had in his repertoire, including An (in)Complete Compendium of the Deadliest Herbs in the Northern Regions, History of Animal Husbandry in Sepira, and Ancient Old Age Mythology, Leonel chose to read High Lady Glendrilla and the Beast Vol. 3.

It was the only volume that Julian owned, and only because it belonged to the previous occupant of the hut.

Deciding not to think too hard on this ridiculous enigma, Julian sighed and finally turned his attention back to his journal. If he was going to take a trip into the village, he might as well run as many errands as possible to make the most out of the trip, especially now that he had an extra pair of hands to help.

It wasn't easy living as a disabled old man in a village as such. There was a time Julian had a mule to help him with the short trip but that old beast had succumbed last winter, fallen to illness and old age.

Thus, he took his sweet time combing through his journal and all the notes on the villager's health and whatnot, listing possible herbs and remedies that he should have at the ready just in case.

It was late in the night when he finally set down the ink pen and stretched, blinking away the fatigue in his eyes that accumulated from staring at words for too long.

Slowly, Julian hauled himself out of his chair, his limbs feeling heavy and ready for rest. Except just when he was about to blow out the candle and roll into the comforts of his hammock, he found a tall shape nestled in there.

Julian scowled, suddenly remembering his unwelcome guest.

Leonel was wearing clothes that he had pillaged from Julian's old trunks. Trousers and a loose shirt that no longer fit the doctor found a new purpose draped over Leonel's tall, athletic body. While the outfit was simple, it looked stupidly good on the inquisitor, especially the way the fabric hugged his thighs and the shirt fell loose from the curve of his chest.

“…” Julian sneered and turned his attention elsewhere.

The book that now lay atop the inquisitor, pale hands folded on top. Leonel’s breathing was silent even as he slept, barely leaving any indication of being alive.

Julian grumbled with annoyance, deciding that he would just let sleeping dogs lie and tackle changing the bandages tomorrow morning. It was too much of a hassle to deal with now.

A part of him wondered why he hadn’t just thrown the overgrown child out, which he definitely should have since the very beginning. But Julian was too tired for weary thoughts so he laid down on the cot and allowed himself to sleep.

Nightmares came as they always did.

…

The next morning, Julian woke up with a heavy yawn, the air still damp and night’s chill remnant. He wanted to congratulate himself for waking up at a respectable hour two whole mornings in a row, for that was a feat that Julian rarely attempted.

However, unfortunately, the inquisitor had woken up even earlier before him and was cooking wild hare by a fire outside.

Leonel perked up when he caught sight of the older man emerging from the hut. A half-eaten rabbit skewer was raised, offered to Julian as food.

Julian made a face of disgust. "Absolutely not. When you're done, come back inside so I can change the hemp for you.”

With his mouth half-full, Leonel spoke, "I can change my own bandages."

"I need to take a look at your wounds. You know you're in danger of circuit corruption right?" Julian pointed out. "Those scars will last you a lifetime."

"..." With a scoff, Leonel stood. "Fine." He gritted out like a petulant child being told to go take a bath when he didn't want to.

"Don't be a brat," Julian hissed. And in turn, the inquisitor had the audacity to roll his eyes. A child, indeed!

Before changing the bandages, Julian went to go draw a pail of water. It took him a bit longer than most people, with his disability and lack of strength. Not to mention, he wasn’t stupid enough to use his blueiron armor in front of an inquisitor.

Leonel's eyes glared holes into Julian’s lame leg while the doctor shuffled indoors.

“What?” he huffed, panting a little from bringing in just water. Usually, Julian would put on his armor for such a task. "I know I'm pretty but you don't have to stare at me so much. I'll start to feel shy."

"You're one of the most shameless old men I've ever met in my life." Leonel rolled his eyes and looked away.

“Then you haven’t gone drinking enough with old men, my boy.” Julian chuckled before ordering Leonel to strip. "Don't you worry kid, I'm not interested in burley youngsters such as yourself."

"I'm not afraid of you. You wouldn’t be able to harm me even if you tried." Leonel clicked his teeth in annoyance as he peeled off both his shirt and trousers, revealing rows of bandages around his torso, arm and legs.

"Maybe you should be. Afraid of me." Julian hummed teasingly as he sat down on his chair next to the cot. He started with the leg.

The old bandages came away and Julian first began to clean the wound with water. Next, he wrestled with a container that once opened, released a rancid, nose-burning smell. The greenish paste was an ointment that stung terribly when applied to open wounds. Though unpleasant, it was the most effective thing that Julian owned.

He took a generous amount and slathered it all over Leonel’s healing injuries.

The inquisitor braved the pain, only uttering a single muffled groan through the process.

After the ointment was suitably spread, Julian would wrap the whole thing up in new, clean hemp.

"Arm," Julian ordered and received the injured arm obediently and began to work. He was leaving the most difficult part for the end.

"I was going to get you braces for this arm of yours," Julian commented offhandedly, wondering if he should still be kind enough to properly secure this arm. He feared that the bone might have received damage from the blunt force it had suffered. "But then you just had to go and press a knife on my pretty neck."

"Your neck is wrinkly and old," Leonel corrected. There was a pause before he sighed. "I'll be fine. I'm an inquisitor." The young man shrugged and flexed his fingers as though to demonstrate.

"You're human," Julian reminded him.

And then they fell silent again. There was only the soft trickling of water and rustling fabric and at times were sharp intakes of breath. All things familiar to Julian and his line of work. Judging from Leonel’s calm composure, this was nothing new to him either.

The last and most troubling injury that Julian had to check was the one on Leonel’s abdomen.

There lay an interesting story about this injury. Julian could tell at a glance that the spell work that had caused it was rather clumsy, from an amateur mage that had no finesse in wielding magic. Which really begged one to question, how did such a clumsy spell end up cutting so deeply on an inquisitor’s body?

Inquisitors were soldiers, hunters of a breed superior to others. Or perhaps they were no longer as impressive as the terrors that stalked the lands during the First Purge, when mages were hunted and slaughtered en mass.

But after witnessing Leonel’s silent steps and careful movements, Julian was certain this inquisitor wasn’t such an easy opponent to champion.

"So what happened here?" Julian asked as he inspected the wound while wiping it down.

There were parts of skin turning blue, veins that popped out like cracks along the wound that almost looked like old scars. They weren't. They were over-reactive circuits, flaring from the damage. If Julian had repaired ninety percent of Leonel’s circuits, this had to be the result of the remaining ten percent he couldn’t purge immediately.

If Julian had no fear of being exposed as a mage, he'd use magic to counteract the spread of corruption. But alas, that was not an option. So instead he took out a special remedy created from a mixture of herbs and crushed bluestones to spread over the worst parts.

"Take a guess," Leonel answered dryly, "I fought a mage."

"Must have been a powerful mage," Julian said with a raised brow, hoping to pry out some answers.

But Leonel said nothing.

"Fine," Julian chuckled. If Leonel wished to guard his secrets then so be it. Julian had his own secrets that he held close. "Don't tell me."

It didn’t take long for Julian to finish wrapping up. And soon they were finally ready to depart for the village.