Servas stumbled a little at the step in front of the door, quickly recentering his feet, his hands tightly gripped onto Blaise’s arms as he supported him. 

He turned his head to look at Blaise’s face, which seemed to be at peace despite how beat up he was. 

‘...You fool. Until when will you keep causing trouble like this…’

He shifted his weight so that Blaise could rest on him stably, and releasing one hand, opened the door to the infirmary. 

“Yes? Oh my…” The nurse who had spoken expecting a student who was simply feeling unwell, or with a small injury, brought her hand to her mouth at the sight of Blaise.

She dragged open one of the curtains to a bed, and motioned Servas over. “Lie him down here.”

As Servas did as he was told, the nurse glanced over Blaise, looking at the numerous burns on his body. When Servas laid him down, he groaned in pain, his face distorting from the peaceful look it had on earlier. 

“...What were you two doing for him to end up like this?” The nurse looked deeply into Servas’ eyes, her expression reproachful. “This level of injury should not happen, even during magic practice.”

Servas lowered his gaze, uncomfortable with the look she gave him. “...Another student lost control, and accidentally attacked him.”

The nurse sighed, and got to work before continuing the conversation. She channeled mana through her body, and a white glow began to surround her fingers. Then, leaning over Blaise’s body, her fingers danced like one playing a slow rhythm, and the open wounds began to clot, ceasing their bleeding. The areas where he suffered burn injuries seemed to grow less dark, and his overall complexion improved. His whimpers that could be heard along the way trickled into a soft, steady breathing, and the sweat on his face began to subside. 

The nurse then retreated her hands, and the glow at the tips of her fingers dimmed. “There, I closed most of his deeper wounds. I cannot heal him completely, but if he lets them finish healing naturally, it is enough to prevent any lasting impacts.”

Servas gazed at Blaise wordlessly. “Thank you.”

He knew that Blaise couldn’t be healed fully in a moment. Even the nurse, who was among the more powerful healers in the kingdom, could only achieve this level of healing. Despite this, it was already at a level that could be called a miracle in dire situations, and healing was not a specialty to be looked down on, regardless of its limitations.

“So,” the nurse said, taking a seat nearby, “who was the student? It's rare to lose control to this extent. Even among the first years, they should typically not be able to inflict burns this bad.”

Servas grasped his hands behind his back, standing still for a moment. “…Flann Ruzena. He’s in the third year, but was only admitted this year.”

Hearing that, the nurse turned her head to the side, her eyes filled with thoughts. “Ah… that student.”

She sighed, placing her head on her hand. “He really managed to cause an incident before completing his basic training…”

“Well, in any case, I understand the situation now. You’re lucky since Blaise will be able to heal without scars.”

“But,” she added, eyeing Blaise from the corner of her eyes, “He should really reel in his behavior of provoking others. I assume Flann’s attack was not baseless?”

Servas gripped his fingers tighter. “...Yes. I’ll let him know when he reawakens.”

The nurse looked at him with a bit of pity. “It isn’t your responsibility, you know. It must be hard to always clean up after him.”

Servas winced, so slightly that it was hard to perceive. “...It’s not like that,” he replied.

“Hmm…” The nurse gazed at him for a moment, before lifting a hand and waving him off. “Well then, it’s as you say. For now, you can leave. I’ll watch over Blaise for you.” 

Servas briskly nodded, and then left the infirmary, shutting the door behind him. As the nurse looked in the direction where he left, she mused, “...He’s been like that since forever ago. Would it kill him to put less pressure on himself?”

She shook her head lightly and turned around, resuming her work at her desk.

***

At the Ruzena’s capital estate, the dim moonlight illuminated a corner of a singular window facing west. Where the soft rays of light landed, Flann sat at his desk, staring wordlessly at them. 

Then, he turned to look at a bookshelf on the wall beside him, and recalled the first book that he had read since losing his memories. His thoughts trailed from the information he read in there, to the story that Clarette had told him at the graveyard. 

“Curse you!” “Traitor!”

The words that he had heard that day resurfaced to his mind, and sent a shudder down his back. He gripped the sleeves of his shirt, feeling colder than the autumn temperature about him. 

He had gone back a second time to find out more about the people buried there, but he had never discovered the meaning of those words. 

Was there a truth behind them? Was the Flann before he was named Flann someone who would incite such curses?

Flann looked down at himself, the incident from earlier in the day fresh in his mind. 

Was it something so terrible and inherent that it remained in the Flann of today?

He didn’t want to think about it. 

When he first awoke in the fields outside of the Ruzena territory, he was merely curious about the world around him. He had come to remember human connection, and became more aware of his own emotions and thoughts than before. All along, he thought that he must have been an average person, someone that others would not remember, and that he got lucky being bestowed the name of Flann Ruzena. 

But what if there was a more sinister past that he could not recall? For what reason had he lost his memories? And although he felt like he was starting anew, for what reason was there no one from his past looking for him?

He shut his eyes, overwhelmed by the direction of his own thoughts. 

The night outside his window seemed darker and colder than it was, and he couldn’t answer any of the questions that arose in his mind. 

Standing up out of his chair, he soundlessly exited his room, quietly closing the door on his unlit, dismal room.