Chapter Text
"By the grace of the Flamebringer, be healed!"
It wasn't by any means a necessary part of the incantation, but Temenos always was a little dramatic. It didn't make much noticeable difference at first, but Castti had insisted upon Temenos doing what he could for the lashes across Osvald's torso and arms, since his body couldn't swell to the right temperature to heal quickly on its own. Perhaps that was true, but Osvald wouldn't complain about the reduced pain from, essentially, always having ice on his wounds.
He applied a new herbal salve from Castti as Temenos moved on to Hikari's ankle. As soon as Castti finished cleaning the burn wounds on Niseru's chest and stomach, ensuring they didn't fester, he'd heal her long-suffered pain as well.
"You did quite well in your duels against Ritsu and General Rou despite your sprain," Castti pointed out.
Hikari shook his head. "It slowed me down significantly. At my best, I could have defeated both of them at once. Instead, I had to play defense, and nothing but."
Throné raised an eyebrow. "Quite confident, I see."
"Do you find you struggle more against…" Agnea waved one of her hands. "...whatever we're calling it, when you get frustrated? I'm wondering if we can find a way to help you avoid it."
"Maybe…?" Hikari moved his foot around, testing its mobility. "That's much better. Thank you, Temenos." He tied his boot back on. "It takes concentration to keep hold of my own body and mind. Not a lot, but… swordfighting, especially against two skilled opponents at once, takes a lot of focus, itself. That might also be why it appears to me in my dreams. It's not possible to keep my guard up when I'm asleep."
"In other words, you need to avoid being overwhelmed?"
"Sort of. It's not entirely predictable," Hikari admitted. "Sometimes, it becomes overpowering, even when I'm focusing everything I can on trying to stop it. Thus… your sedating dart sounded like a fine idea to me, Castti."
"I'll get that done shortly, and we still have the inhalant I used on you yesterday in the meantime." Castti closed her bottle of antiseptic. "Go ahead, Temenos. That's the best I can do."
Niseru sat near a wall with her back to the group, and raised an eyebrow as Temenos approached. "As a holy man, I'm surprised your only hesitation was that it would take a great deal of effort to heal a wound of this size."
Temenos snorted. "You're wrong. It isn't a sin, for I have no lust for the female form. As a badly wounded burn victim, I'm surprised you have anything to say but 'O kind, generous, and noble Inquisitor Temenos, I offer my deepest gratitude for your efforts, and may the Sacred Flame continue to light your path and allow you to bestow its healing warmth upon many others after me—'"
"Heal her, Temenos. We're short on time," Castti interrupted.
Temenos gave her a look, but sighed and switched over to the appropriate incantation. As he finished, Niseru's skin slowly, very slowly, knit together from the scarred edges of the wound. “The old man’s giving me trouble today,” he complained.
“You are calling him an old man,” Castti pointed out. “Perhaps you’d find it easier if you called him something like… ‘O kind, generous, and noble Flamebringer Ælfric’… or learned human anatomy.”
Temenos rolled his eyes. “Yes, Castti.”
“I mean it!”
Niseru couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Perhaps I judged you too quickly. I knew Inquisitor Roi, and it seems you're quite different,” she admitted. “It hurts less. Thank you, Temenos.”
“You knew Roi?” Temenos raised an eyebrow. “Small world, I suppose. You’re very welcome, Niseru.”
After giving Misha directions to the Blacksnakes' false orphanage, they wasted no time heading north past Alrond’s mansion into the forest. Mahina led the way, flying above the tree tops and occasionally perching to let them catch up. It was brighter than the paths leading to the weapons trade Hikari had interrupted yesterday, but more difficult to traverse, with sloping terrain interrupted by large logs, tree roots, and stones, and occasional clusters of trees too close together for them to fit through with their satchels and packs. Still, they settled into a rhythm, with the active Ochette and Agnea finding the easiest routes forward, and only slowing down occasionally when Castti noticed a medicinal herb or rare flower.
"May I carry Acta?" Niseru eventually proposed. "You might find it easier to move, and I have… quite the soft spot for baby animals. In truth, I decided to travel with your group in the hopes of meeting Acta."
"Oh! Fine by me, but you gotta ask Acta. Pops told me 'something something emotional manipulation' last time I tried to just hand her off."
“'Pops'?"
"Osvald." Ochette rolled her eyes. "I'm Acta's Ma, and he's her Pops!"
"That… isn't how I remember it," Osvald muttered. "Nor did I agree to parenting her."
"Whatever." She managed to fish the baby dragon out of her sleeve, and held her face-to-face with Niseru. "Go on!"
Clearly finding it a bit ridiculous, Niseru nonetheless complied. "Acta, may I carry you through the forest?"
Acta meowed. "She says 'okay'!" Ochette translated, letting Niseru take her. She held Acta up against her shoulder, gently petting down her back. "I think she likes you!"
Mahina occasionally swooped down to the lower branches of the trees to point out something interesting she'd seen, but that evening, she landed directly on Ochette's arm with a series of concerned hoots.
"Mahina saw a carnivorous plant up ahead," Ochette called out, warning the group. It took most of them some time to catch up to her, but her voice wouldn't startle a plant that couldn't hear them.
"Oh, I've heard of those! Be careful of any spiky-looking roots!" Agnea warned. "They stretch deceptively far!"
"Are we going to have to detour?" Throné asked.
"Wait!" Castti insisted. "This is a fantastic opportunity. I'll need more medicinal ingredients than I ever have before, in case Trousseau is successful with his poisonous smoke, and carnivorous plants are a bountiful source of wriggling root."
"You weren't able to get what you needed in Wellgrove?" Partitio asked. "You know I woulda covered the costs, no questions asked."
"For curing thousands of people, you'd have my spare change as well," Alrond offered in turn.
"Thank you, but… there's something I haven't found in any town we've yet stopped in." Castti pulled an envelope from her satchel and demonstrated a single bluish-white flower with about a dozen thin petals. "This is a snowdrop. They have potent arcane properties, and are able to apply a dose of healing magic inside a patient's throat and lungs when brewed as a tea. Deadly moonshade poisoning can cause a patient to cough up blood, and this is the best remedy I know for that symptom. But as you can see… I only have the one snowdrop, and I've already used one of its petals to treat Osvald's poisoning in Winterbloom. It won't be enough to treat the thousands of people who might need it in Timberain."
She'd used it on him? Osvald felt a sharp pang of guilt. Something so rare, that could be used to save lives more valuable than his own, shouldn't be wasted on him. He'd taken Castti's remedy without thinking, without asking what she was sacrificing for him. "Castti, I apologize—"
"For being stabbed and poisoned?" Castti rolled her eyes. "Yes, you'd better. I’m sure none of us will ever forgive you."
"I don't think you'll find that on a carnivorous plant," Ochette pointed out, "but we'll help you get more!"
"You'll get to the summit of Mount Liphia on the Eastern Continent and back in three days or less?" Castti raised an eyebrow. "It's not possible. Wriggling root isn't nearly as potent, but… it's sort of a jack-of-all-trades. Most importantly, it clears the airways. If I can't prevent a patient from coughing up blood…"
"You'll prevent them from coughing altogether?" Temenos proposed.
"Gods no!" Castti's eyes widened. "I'll keep them breathing long enough to heal naturally! No, a cough suppressant would let the airway fill with blood. Don't go giving people cough suppressants when I'm not looking!"
Temenos put his hands up innocently as Castti shook her finger at him. "Oh, dear. Understood, loud and clear."
"So how do we get this wriggly root?" Partitio asked. "I ain't fought no plant before."
Plants were flammable. And yet, so too was the dense forest they found themselves in. It would take a very carefully controlled flame, manipulated by a skilled and experienced scholar. Osvald coughed, dusting his sleeve with snow, and crossed his arms. He'd have to use the next best thing. "Frost, I suppose. You'll have to tell me which parts of the plant must remain undamaged."
"Of course! May I write in your notebook?" Castti asked.
Against everything he thought he'd learned, he handed it to Castti without question. Castti sat down on a nearby log and sketched a diagram, including several flowery heads, stems, bulbs, leaves, vines, and an extensive root system. Everyone gathered around her, watching her draw. "We'll be able to dig up the roots as soon as it's dead. It's fine to cut them, but try to keep some in good enough shape to take with us. These flowers can spray pollen and fluff out even further than the roots can stretch— and the roots stretch further than they appear in this sketch, about a hundred meters from the center of the plant in all directions. I'd recommend cutting the stems with a sword or axe to neutralize the threat of the heads, but… good luck getting close enough without being trapped by the vines or roots, both of which have poisonous tips. There are multiple different species of carnivorous plant, each equipped with a different type of poison, and I'm not sure I'll be able to identify it without getting much closer, so do take care to avoid being pricked. Cutting off the largest head, so, in this case, right here…" She made a few scratches across one of the stems. "That should be enough to kill it."
Agnea gave a quick round of applause. "You're such a good artist, Castti!"
"Ah, thank you?" She scratched the back of her neck. "Did all of that make sense?"
"Yeah!" Ochette declared, swinging her axe up to rest against her shoulder. "Cut the flower heads off! Easy-peasy! Let’s get us some wriggly root!”
"Ochette, wait—!"
Mahina took to the air, hooting worriedly, as Ochette took off running towards the carnivorous plant. “An interesting strategy,” Osvald commented, stroking his beard. “Perhaps she wagers it won’t be able to move quickly enough to—”
A large triad of spiked vines shot up from the ground, wrapping around Ochette’s leg, tripping her and pulling her partially into the soil. Ochette cried out in pain and surprise, losing her grip on her axe and trying to claw her torso across the forest floor to reach it again.
"Plant, one. Ochette, zero," Throné muttered, her forehead in her palm.
"What in carnation— Ochette!" Partitio cried, readying the polearm he kept on his back.
Hikari immediately put his arm out, blocking the others from running to help her. "Don't get any closer. We'll have to fight from afar, or we'll all be trapped."
The main body of the plant started moving, aiming all three of its heads towards Ochette, and thus, everyone else. “Cover your mouths and eyes!” Castti ordered, slightly muffled by the fabric of her cloak, already pulled over most of her face.
There was barely enough time to raise an arm before a malodorous blast of pollen filled the air. Ochette took the brunt of it, knocked unconscious by the very stench, giving the roots a chance to tug her further into the ground. The spores stuck to the eyelashes, and didn't disperse quicker than the need to inhale arose. Even those of them who'd gotten clothing over their noses and mouths in time started coughing, and those who didn't had it far worse.
She didn't manage the first time, her first incantation interrupted by the desperate need to cough, but on her second attempt, Agnea got the words out impressively quickly. She twirled and swung one arm towards the carnivorous plant, and a strong gust of wind rushed past them from behind, blowing the pollen back towards its source. "Everybody okay?"
Osvald and Niseru had been knocked to the ground by the strength of her wind spell, and Throné and Partitio were struggling enough to breathe that they'd knelt down on their own. Hikari rubbed his streaming eyes, his pollen-dusted hands perhaps making things worse. "We'll have to be," he wheezed. "We should split up so we're not all struck at once again. Pick a direction and go!"
"Wait," Osvald coughed. "Yes, disperse, but stay on the same half of the perimeter. Give anyone who can attack long-range a clear shot."
"Right!"
Osvald tactically chose to follow Agnea to the left. The most effective method he could think of was surrounding each flower head in a sphere of ice, trapping any spores inside and making it much easier to cut the stem of the largest head. But the plant remained quite far away, and it would be difficult to aim accurately. As they stopped, he placed a hand on Agnea's shoulder from behind, making her shoulders tense up and sending a shiver down her spine. It would be a waste of breath to apologize right away, when pollen and snow in his throat made it difficult to speak at all. "Let's cast at the same time. We'll form a blizzard. Ready?"
Agnea held up one hand up, expression twisting with discomfort. Osvald stepped back. It was true he hadn't spoken with her as much as he'd spoken to some of the other members of the group, but had he made her that uncomfortable? Finally, she simply sneezed. "Phew! Okay, now I'm ready!"
As though singing a duet, Osvald's bass and Agnea's soprano incantations merged together. On the final note, Agnea reached forth, twisting her fingers and looping the air into a vortex through the forest. Osvald's arm curved around hers, their fingers touching, adding snow and frost into the storm. It was impossible to see the carnivorous plant past the glacial tempest, though Osvald noticed she'd controlled the flow of air well enough to spare Ochette, lying barely twenty meters from their target.
"Skillfully done," he praised.
"Aw, thank you, Osvald!" Agnea smiled. "Your magic is— hehe— nothing to sneeze at, either!" She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, rubbing at her nose, and gasped when she opened them again. "Look out!"
Perhaps it could tell from where the magical barrage had come, or perhaps running along the soil had told the plant where each of them now stood, but a sharp root broke through the ground between them. Agnea leapt back, only to be tangled up in roots she hadn't seen behind her.
Osvald reached for her hand, but had to quickly withdraw his arm as one of the roots lashed toward him. Hikari, nearby, rushed closer as he heard the scream. "Agnea!"
"Ngh… I'll be okay! Focus on defeating the plant! Everyone needs you!" she encouraged both of them, trying to pull away from the roots.
Fine. If the roots had to break through the ground to strike them, he wouldn't give them the option. He aimed his next ice spell across the ground, forming a smooth sheet of ice across the top of the soil, several inches thick and several meters wide. He'd never been the most skilled skater, and the terrain was too rough for a straight glide towards the carnivorous plant, but he managed to safely approach as close as Ochette had, the roots below him smacking against the ice. Much more easily able to aim now, despite needing to kneel so as not to slip off his small area of safety, he began covering the flower heads in ice, one at a time.
He wasn't able to finish before the two heads remaining began spewing pollen in every direction. He squeezed his eyes shut, no longer able to aim at all, and forced his spatial memory to be good enough. With his shirt pulled over his nose and mouth, he barely choked out the end of the incantation in time, aiming the next sphere to be larger than intended, wrapping around a large portion of the plant's body.
It would have to be good enough. Osvald crawled backwards blindly, since if he let his eyes open, he'd be blinded by pollen and tears instead.
"I'm on your left!" Another rush of air passed by him, much gentler than Agnea's wind magic, as Hikari slid past him. He grunted, cutting through the stems all at once, and started coughing anew as the top half of the plant crashed down to the forest floor, adding to the cloud of spores around them.
It was done. Irritated in more than one sense of the word, Osvald sighed. He was never going to stop and smell the flowers ever again.
