Brycen’s thoughts swim in murky darkness, flashes of the attack flickering at the edges of his groggy mind. The burning mist, the screams, Aaron’s voice shouting through the chaos. His lungs still burn, a phantom reminder of the poison he’d breathed in before the world had gone black...

Brycen wearily opens his eyes, feeling as though there’s a large weight on his chest making it difficult to breathe.  It takes him several moments of floating before he recalls the attack with more detail, and he sits up straight- and starts coughing uncontrollably.  There is then a hand on his shoulder and another offering him a glass of water, which he thankfully drinks quickly as though he is dying of thirst.  His lungs burn as though they are still full of the noxious mist, every cough tearing at his throat like shards of glass.

“Kay!  He’s finally awake!”

After he drinks the water he looks around.  Aaron is sitting next to him, looking uncharacteristically worried for the usually somber Alpha.  The room smells of lavender and chamomile, herbs hanging from the beams above the bed. Sunlight filtered in through the breezy curtains, casting soft shadows over the wooden floor. Despite his injuries, the space feels... warm. Safe.

“Where am I?” he rasps.

“Greystone, just south of Duskbrook.  It’s a tiny village, but this is the home of the best healer I know,” Aaron says.

As if on cue, a person walks in.  Brycen blinks, trying to clear the fog from his vision. He focuses on the figure in front of him—black hair spilling over a delicate braid, the glint of amethyst eyes behind a dark mask. He swallows, his chest tightening again, though this time it wasn’t just from the noxious mist.  They sit on the edge of the bed, Aaron moving away to give them room.  Aaron’s shoulders relax visibly when the stranger enters the room, as though the presence of the healer brings a weight off his mind.

“Please sit forward if you can,” they instruct, and he does his best to follow their calm words.  They place something on his back and listen carefully to the sound of his lungs, then maks a noise.  “Please lay back down.”

“Am I going to be okay?” He asks, worry evident in his voice.

"I do not believe there will be any lasting damage from the attack, but you’ve developed a respiratory infection, likely exacerbated by the mist, leading to pneumonia.  I will send word and supplies to Duskbrook’s healers as they may be dealing with an outbreak there.”

“He couldn’t help himself,” Aaron mutters, shaking his head. “Rushed straight in, pulled people out until he dropped.”

Brycen flinches at the judgmental tone, but the stranger’s eyes crinkle into a smile.  “It sounds like you’re a hero then.  It explains why the others that Aaron brought do not have as severe of condition.”

Brycen looks between the two.  “Aaron mentioned that you are the best healer he knows. How did you come to meet? A mission?”

“Oh…yes, I suppose I haven't introduced myself,” the healer says.  “My name is Kaylin Eilaro.  Aaron is my half-brother.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kaylin,” Brycen says, hating the wheeze he says the words with.  “My name is Brycen Vardell.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.  Let me get you some medicine to make you more comfortable. I also need to check on Paladin Ashford and Paladin Valhart.”

“Soren and Lyra are here as well?  What about the others?”

“I left them behind in Duskbrook with their healers,” Aaron says.  “The three of you were in the worst condition, I didn’t want to overtax Kay’s resources.  Once you’re all back on your feet, we need to go back to Duskbrook.  It’s only about a half day’s ride from here.”

Kaylin turns, expression carefully neutral. “The other two will be fine for the ride,” they say. “But Brycen needs more time. His condition is more serious.”

Brycen frowns, shifting uneasily under the covers. “I’ll be ready,” he says, his voice rough with determination. “Just give me a little time.”

Kaylin’s eyes narrow slightly, and Aaron steps forward, crossing his arms. “You don’t need to rush. Let your body heal,” Aaron said, the tone of command in his voice reminding Brycen of their days at the academy.

Still, Brycen shakes his head. “We can’t waste time, Aaron. Duskbrook needs us.”

Kaylin glances between the two of them, their expression unreadable behind the face mask. “Pushing yourself will only make things worse,” they say evenly. “The pneumonia could spread, or become worse. Aaron and the others can head back, and I'll continue to treat you here. Another day or two here will make all the difference.”

Aaron frowns, his eyes hardening. “I’m not leaving you alone here with him, Kay,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, protective growl. “He’s an Alpha, and you-”

Kaylin’s eyes flash with something dangerous, and they cut Aaron off before he could finish. “I’m not some weakling, Aaron. I can take care of myself.” Their voice is firm, edged with irritation. “Brycen is my patient, and I will treat him until he is fit to leave.”

Brycen, sensing the sudden tension between them, sits up straighter, despite the burning in his lungs. “I won’t be any trouble,” he says quickly, trying to defuse the situation. “And I won’t do anything to disrespect your family. I promise.”

Aaron turns sharply, looking between Brycen and Kaylin, jaw clenched. His Alpha instincts are written all over his body—his stance stiff, protective—but there was also a begrudging respect for Kaylin refusing to back down.

Finally, Aaron sighs, the tension leaving his shoulders. “Fine,” he mutters. “But you’ll take care of yourself too, Kay, right?”

Kaylin softens slightly, nodding. “I always do.”

Aaron cast one last look at Brycen, still not fully convinced, but he steps back. “I’ll take Soren and Lyra back to Duskbrook,” he says gruffly. “Send word when he’s ready to ride.”

Brycen offers a weak smile. “Thank you, Aaron.”

Aaron gives him a sharp nod before turning and leaving the room, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.

---

Brycen spends the next few days confined to the bed, with Kaylin tending to him at regular intervals. The first day, their interactions are brief- Kaylin checking his vitals, adjusting his medicine, and ensuring he eats enough to regain his strength. The healer is professional and efficient, but Brycen finds himself watching them closely, drawn to the quiet grace in the way they move, the way their eyes never linger on him for too long.

On the third day, as Kaylin brings him another dose of bitter tea, Brycen finally breaks the silence between them.

“How long have you been a healer?” he asks, his voice still hoarse but growing stronger.

Kaylin raises an eyebrow, setting the cup down on the sturdy end table beside the bed. “Long enough,” they say simply, though there is a faint smile in their eyes. “My papa is a healer. He taught me.”

Brycen shifts under the quilt, propping himself up on an elbow. “You’re good at it,” he says, genuine admiration in his tone. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this well taken care of.”

Kaylin tilts their head, studying him for a moment. “You’re recovering quickly, but don’t think that means you’re invincible,” they warn, though the severity of their words is softened by the crinkle of her eyes. “I still expect you to rest.”

Brycen chuckles weakly. “I’ll try,” he says, “But it’s hard to stay still.”

Kaylin’s expression softens further, and they take a seat at the edge of the bed. “That’s the problem with Alphas. Always eager to push themselves beyond their limits.”

Brycen’s smile fades slightly, and he regards Kaylin with new interest. “Do you… not like Alphas?” he asks, careful with his words.

Kaylin is silent for a moment, their eyes flickering down to the cup of tea they put on the end table. “It’s…complicated,” they say quietly. “It’s just… hard to trust anyone when you’ve spent your whole life hiding.”

Brycen blinks, realizing for the first time how much weight Kaylin carries beneath their calm exterior. He swallows, his heart beating a little faster. “You shouldn’t have to hide,” he says, his voice soft. “Not here. Not with me.”

Kaylin’s eyes met his, their amethyst gaze searching his face for sincerity. They say nothing for a long moment, and Brycen can feel the tension in the air between them, something unspoken hanging just out of reach.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Kaylin says finally, her voice quiet but steady. “But it’s not that simple.”

Brycen nodded, understanding. “Still,” he says, his voice firm, “I mean it. You’re not alone in this.”

Kaylin stands then, their hand resting briefly on the bedpost as they turn to leave. “Rest, Brycen. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”  As they're standing at the doorway, they glance back to Brycen.  “I actually use they/them pronouns, if you would like to address me properly,” they say and quickly leave the room.  Brycen smiles to himself as Kaylin’s footsteps fade down the hall, the quiet space around him returning. He looks down at the cup of tea in his hands, now cooled but still fragrant with herbs. Bringing it to his lips, he drinks slowly, feeling the bitter brew settle in his chest, soothing the ache there.

They, he thinks to himself.  His smile widens, though the effort costs him another small wheeze.  It’s the first piece of personal information Kaylin has offered about herself- themself, he corrects mentally.

Kaylin is unlike anyone he’s ever met.  Calm, composed, but with a quiet strength that radiates from them, even in the smallest interactions.  They don’t need to shout or command like the Alphas he’d grown up with- like his Alpha father or even his Beta mother- their authority came from something deeper, more assured.

And despite that mask they still always wear, their eyes- those stunning, violet eyes- speak more than their words ever could.  Brycen finds himself staring into the empty doorway long after Kaylin has left, his mind lingering on the brief conversation they shared.  For the first time in days, he lets himself relax, sinking back into the soft bed.  His body is sore, but the pain is more manageable now.  He’ll recover.  Slowly but surely.

As his thoughts begin to drift, Brycen finds himself wondering what Kaylin had meant when they said they’ve spent their life hiding.  There was a pain behind those words, a history he isn’t privy to yet, but he wants to know more.  He wants to understand them better.

He glances down at the handmade quilt covering him, noting the intricate patterns stitched into it- small flowers and vines, interwoven in delicate symmetry.  It is such a far cry from the rigid, sterile healers’ wards of Aerenthal- the capital city where he grew up and trained so long to become a Paladin.  The thought of leaving this place too soon feels oddly unwelcome.  While he meant what he said about wanting to check on Duskbrook, now that he was here alone he doesn’t want to leave.  This is the first “break” he’s had in years.  And maybe it isn’t just the warmth of the room or the comfort of the bed, but Kaylin’s presence that makes him want to stay.

Brycen blinks, chuckling quietly to himself.  ‘Careful,’ he thinks.  ‘You’re getting too comfortable here.'