Looters had been prowling around the village for several days.
They were deserters—men and women without a clan—trying to survive by attacking merchants who traded between villages.

Because not all clans lived in perpetual war.

Valensia, with a small group of warriors, had gone out to track them down.

I was in my home, reading an old book about the ancient world, when she entered. Blood was running down her shin.

"Oh god, you're hurt!" I shouted, getting up as quickly as my age would allow.

"It's fine. I've seen worse," she said with a smile. "I wanted to deal with it myself, but the villagers told me the Elder was very gifted at healing."

"Sit down. I'll take a look."

I examined her leg. The wound was deep.
How could she be smiling, or even walking, in that state?

I took a damp cloth and gently wiped away the blood.

"Does it hurt?"

"Tickles," she replied.

But I could see it on her face—she was in pain. She just didn’t want to show it.

I stood and reached for a small flask.

"Drink this. It’ll help with the pain."

She looked up, feigning awe.

"Really?"

She drank it, and I continued cleaning and tending to the wound. After a few moments, her features relaxed.

"You're right—I don’t feel anything anymore. Is that some kind of magical potion?"

"Something like that," I said, not taking my eyes off the wound.

"That’s really handy. Any side effects?"

"None."

"Wow, that’s amazing. It’d be useful to have some close by. You know... just in case things get rough."

"That’s... not really possible."

"Oh? Elder won’t give her chief a healing potion?" she teased, with no trace of arrogance.

"It’s just that... I don’t have many. I’m keeping them for real emergencies. I didn’t make them—I don’t have the talent for it..."

"Ah, I see. Well, I understand," she said lightly.

I couldn’t quite read her tone. So mature... and yet, oddly childlike.

"It’s done. I’ve disinfected it. You’ll need to change the bandage three times a day."

"Thanks, Viera. Will you take care of it?"

(Viera? Not 'Elder' anymore?)

I raised an eyebrow.

"Is that any way to speak to an old lady?" I asked, mock-offended.

She burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.