The next day proved to be little different than the one before--for Sia, at least.

Occasionally, she would manage to subdue a lizardman before Aaramis took them out in one-hit, but it was rare. For the most part, he eliminated them before the rest of their group even noticed the creatures. By the third time, Sia realized she would have gotten more practice staying behind at the guild than she was getting standing around watching the djinn show off. Of course, he'd ignored her when she pointed it out.

Gods. She rubbed her face, shooting the arrogant sorcerer a glare from across the tavern room. All throughout breakfast, she had considered suggesting to Gideon that he let her stay behind, or begging Oren to let her join their group. As annoying as Rae and Inan seemed to be from his complaints, she couldn't help but feel that as long as she got to hit something it would be worth it. Her attention shifted to her friend as she folded her arms on the table and placed her chin atop the pile.

"Hey, Or--" she began, before cutting off. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. Like her, Oren had laid his head atop his arms next to an untouched breakfast, but unlike Sia, his eyes were closed. Still, given how annoyed he was with his currently absent teammates, she wouldn't have put it past him to be feigning sleep. "...Oren. Do you mind if I--"

Something flickered. It was the barest movement in the corner of her vision, but a familiar one. So, with a sinking weight in her chest, Sia turned. Shit.

As expected, a long, wispy tendril of shadow had unnaturally crawled across the room. It curled around the legs of tables and chairs, before ending a few feet from where she sat. From the faded, airy look to the magic, she guessed it wasn't because the magic had fulfilled its goal, but because the user didn't have enough magic to fuel it. Because, of course he didn't.

She was going to kill him.

It was almost a staple of jobs with Cross. If they left him alone, someone would get signaled to go collect the demon after he collapsed. Despite being older than her and supposedly of better skill, he had a bad habit of exhausting himself. Usually because he was showing off.

"Gideon!"

As she sprung from her seat, her eyes searched out her other teammate. As expected, he was already up and moving, eyes following where the shadowed trail led out the front of the inn. Gideon grabbed his violin case and turned to Aaramis.

"Are either of your present teammates healers?" he asked.

It was a reasonable question. Sia was a good healer, but they didn't know what sort of situation they were heading into. Having a back-up would keep someone from getting killed or worse. Aaramis opened his mouth, but didn't get to say anything before Gideon continued.

"And in case you'd like to claim this isn't your problem to deal with, Cross and Atlas went out together this morning. Your team is involved, whether you like it or not."

The djinn tensed, his eyes following the shadows. She wasn't sure if he had noticed them before then, but the way his eyes narrowed and he immediately tore himself out of his seat told her he hadn't realized the significance of them until Gideon's question.

"All of us are capable of cleansing, but I'm unsure..." Aaramis began, before cutting himself off.

Without another word, he darted out of the inn.

Sia took off after him, having already expected the djinn would leave without answering. That seemed to be his default mode--she was surprised he'd said as much as he had. As it was, she wasn't sure what he thought running off would accomplish. He'd said it himself--he wasn't a cleric.

She almost stopped dead as the significance of what he did share settled in her thoughts.

If they were all capable of cleansing, then why the fuck had she been doing it all?

She shook her head, dislodging her anger for now. The issue of the arrogant djinn was something to settle after they had figured out if Cross was simply exhausted, or had put himself on the edge of death. Neither was an impossibility for the demon.

The pace Aaramis set required Sia to practically sprint to keep up with him. Fear pulled her shoulders taut and her stomach churned as her nerves turned to mush. Afterall, the djinn hadn't seemed particularly interested or concerned about anyone this entire time--so if he was so worked up, what did that mean for Cross and Atlas? She shivered. It wasn't that she had any particular attachment to Atlas--the guy was a stranger--but, given the circumstances...gods, the guilt.

The wisps of darkness fell into nothing as they neared the edge of town. Thankfully, the end of their path--a small, unremarkable house--had been clear before it collapsed. Her fear heightened as she realized that there was no reason for Cross to be calling them to such a place if he had merely fallen prey to exhaustion.

"We sh--" Sia began.

Aaramis threw the door open. "Atlas!"

"Gods, you can't just do that!" Sia snapped.

She stepped forward, then nearly shrieked as someone grabbed her arm. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed it to be Gideon, however. Magic shimmered in the air behind him--a signal for the others?--as concern filled his expression. She bit her tongue.

"Cross?" he asked.

She shook her head, about to say she hadn't seen him yet, when the demon in question appeared in the entryway. His hair was a disaster, face lined with exhaustion, and clothing splattered with blood--but, physically, he was fine.

His eyes met hers. "Thank the god--"

Aaramis shoved past him. For the hundredth time since they had met the man, Sia felt her temper flare. It wasn't as if he knew the house any better than the rest of them, so what exactly did he think pushing the demon aside would accomplish besides potentially knocking down an exhausted man?

"Are you okay?" she asked Cross.

She stepped forward as he nodded, then shook his head. His fingers threaded through his hair, eyes flicking behind him, then back to them. The chipper expression she typically associated with Cross was nowhere to be seen. Only concern and weariness lingered in its place. "I--I'm fine, but Atlas, he...he got--I got him back here as soon as I could, but--"

"He got bit," Sia finished for him, already walking past him. Gideon lingered at his side, something she was thankful for. The demon obviously needed comfort, but if it was an injury of corruption she needed to be at Atlas' side sooner rather than later. Cleansing a corpse was one thing--the living was so much harder. Few country clerics were equipped to deal with such a thing.

Cross' hand caught in his hair. "Y-yeah. Yeah, he did."

"Is there a healer here?" Gideon asked.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him catch Cross between the shoulders and propel him forward. Cross bobbed his head and freed his hand as he followed Gideon's direction.

"There is. This is her house. We--someone showed us here. A villager. He was conscious until then. So I think--that's good, isn't it? I think it's good."

Sia found the infirmary in the back of the house. Sia darted to the bed the moment she spotted it, her eyes skimming over the large man sprawled across it. His pale skin had turned sallow, the remains of blacking veins emanating from torn flesh at the top of his hip. Bandages laid discarded to the side--no doubt ready for the moment the wound was cleansed, but not before. Divine magic always worked easier with skin-to-skin contact.

Aaramis stood at the base of the bed demanding answers from an older woman--the local cleric?--with his arms crossed over his chest. She accidentally stepped on the djinn's foot as she moved to get closer. He swore, but didn't push her away.

"Were you able to cleanse it?" Sia asked, interrupting Aaramis' interrogation. The cleric slid her irate gaze away from Aaramis, only then seeming to have noticed their arrival.

"First of all, unless you're a cleric I want you out of this room. Now." She paused, her eyes lingering on Cross. "Except you. You can stay. Pretty sure he said your name anyway."

Aaramis drew himself to his full height at the instruction. Meanwhile, Cross scrambled to the otherside the moment the permission was given. It was almost impressive how quickly he reached and grabbed the unconscious Atlas' hand.

"I am a cleric," Aaramis announced.

Sia snorted. "The hell you are."

They'd all seen him perform magic. Not to mention the fact he was famous.

The djinn scowled, stubbornly staying where he was. "I follow the god of earth."'

How convenient.

She didn't bother to grace him with another argument, instead focusing on the older woman with a sigh. "I really am a cleric. It's why I asked how the cleansing was going. I want to help."

The woman graced her a nod, before her eyes narrowed on Aaramis. She stared him down, before pointing towards the door.

"Out," she repeated. "The girl's right. The god of earth isn't known for clerics. Beyond that, you haven't asked a single helpful question since you walked in. So, shoo."

The room trembled. But, shockingly, he didn't protest further. He simply cursed, shot Atlas a critical study, then stormed out. Gideon followed him with a quiet, encouraging murmur. Sia relaxed, her irritation fading away to simple concern. Finally, she could study the wound in peace.

The mark--ugly and festering--wasn't as bad as she would have thought. Sia knew what corruption looked like, an untreated bite from the lizardmen would have been oozing black pus with prominent veins protruding from the surrounding skin. As it was, summoning her magic to the surface left her aware of the faint corruption still lingering in his skin, but it was nothing deadly.

She gave the cleric a hesitant smile. "Like I said, I can help, if you want. Getting this far must have been tiring."

Despite the offer in her words, the magic was already glittering across her fingers, shimmering in the way only holy magic could. After all, the woman wouldn't have said that other clerics could stay if she weren't open to accepting assistance.

The woman smiled, though it was strained, evidence of just how tired she really was.

"Please, by all means," she said, gesturing to Atlas as she wiped her hands on her apron. Immediately after, she moved to the shelves that lined the far wall of the room, plucking down jars that were running low. Sia knelt next to her patient. Shuffling jars sounded behind her, but she didn't dare pay them mind. More important was pressing her fingers into the bloody mark. She summoned appropriate prayers to mind, before urging her magic forward.

It took little effort. Divinity hated corruption.

"Now that things have calmed down, I have to ask. How did he end up in that state?" the cleric murmured behind her.

Cross hummed under his breath. No doubt his tail was twitching as he thought. The demon was nothing if not predictable.

"We were taking out a large nest," he explained. "But, we weren't near the river. He sorta needs that for his large-scale magic. So, we decided to split them up and make it easier. I took the big group. And I was doing fine...! Until, I wasn't. And he stepped in. And got bit."

Jars clunked on a table. "He sounds like a good man, if he took a hit for you under those circumstances."

Sia couldn't help but agree. Anyone willing to throw themselves into danger to protect someone else was a regular hero in her book. For once, it appeared Cross' instant attraction to someone might not have been unfounded.

"He's great," the demon murmured.

"Are you hurt anywhere, though?" the cleric asked.

The silence that followed nearly made Sia look up from her work. Had she judged incorrectly when guessing all the blood on his clothing was his?

"No, no, I'm fine," he said and she almost sighed in relief. "Just tired."

That much had been obvious from his magic. The airy wisps they had followed were a far cry from what Cross was capable of when the time of day allowed for it.

"I'm sure you'll sleep the day away," the cleric laughed.

"Tomorrow for sure."

Sia huffed under her breath, tempted to tell him that she likely hadn't meant he should wait until then to sleep. It was a matter for later, however, so she simply shook her head.

A shuffle of movement followed. "And how's it going with you? Any issues?"

Her teeth sunk into her lip as the nearness of the question caused her to press too hard, sending a jolt of fresh blood over her fingers. Uncertainty gripped her stomach, twisting it into knots as she studied the color. Relief came second, although not as strongly as the first emotion. It was likely a good sign, even as unsettling as the sensation was. The corruption had left his blood a dark, thick color, as if it had been lingering outside his body for minutes instead of seconds. Now, however, it was the bright red of fresh blood. Alongside that, nothing felt as off as it had when she first touched him.

"No, I think he's good to be actually healed now," Sia said, finally glancing up. "The corruption is gone as far as I could tell, but...I don't have much experience with these things."

Cleansing had always been something the eldest priests were tasked with. She'd done it once or twice of course--her position had allowed for nothing else--but, it hadn't been the focus of her training. Her father had always waved her off, saying there was plenty of time for her to learn the harsher sides of their work.

"Great," the woman said. Sia could feel her peering over her shoulder, likely to inspect the wound. "I can heal him if you'd like."

Sia hesitated. The offer made sense. It was only morning, after all, and they had come here with a job to do. "Thank you."

She shifted out of the way, giving the older woman room to work with. Her attention switched to Cross as she straightened. After studying him for a moment--not that she really even needed to do that much--she concluded that he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. So, she turned her attention back to the woman.

"I'll go tell the others he's okay."

"You do that," the cleric replied as she tugged over a chair. Her attention shifted to Atlas, so the next words were more distracted, but no softer. "Tell that djinn friend of yours he's not welcome at my door unless he's bleeding out, will you? I don't take kindly to people who don't respect the sanctity of my practice."

Sia snorted, before amusement curled over her tired lips.

"We're not friends so...gladly."