Chapter 39

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"Jo?"  a faint voice called her name, like in dreams, far away. Her vision was a little blurry. She had felt someone grabbing her by the armpits, lifting her up moving her around: it had been Alaric, she realized. He was fine. He had made it to the inn on time.

Her head was fuzzy, she could barely keep her eyes open. Stay with us, she could hear the voices, Laurentius, Wyn, her grandmother. She did her best not to close her eyes again. She couldn't feel the pain in her arm anymore, just an overall lightness and cold. It was so cold. She was moved nearer to the fireplace, on the floor, then covered in blankets.

A faint tingling sensation spread from the core of her bones to her limbs, to her arm. Then warmth, kissing her skin like fire, crawling through her veins, pulsating where the wound laid open. The fogginess in her head receded, slowly, as the pain came back in all its splendor only to disappear completely moments later. She sat up and was met with Laurentius' incredulous gaze. Alaric, Wyn, and Grandmother looked just, if not more, dumbfounded. She checked her arm: it was healed. Just like the wound in her hand, when she had been distracted. She hadn't imagined it. Had she? She was too tired, too dizzy to ponder the implications.

"Laurentius, did you--?" she held her arm towards the mage. Laurentius shook his head.

"A side effect from the Core Silvam, I presume," Laurentius crossed his arms. "I'm curious to know what other abilities it left behind. I'd like to study you, it's most interesting, indeed," he was interrupted by Alaric.

"Now it's not the time, Laurentius," Alaric reached for the hilt of his sword, a reflex perhaps. He removed it before anyone else could notice. "Are you feeling all right, Jo?"

"I've never been better," she smirked. She could still feel the magic in her veins, going back whence it came. She hoped it would stay in there, well hidden. "Alaric, are you ok?" she examined his face, that one-month beard looked strange on him. His clothes, his hair, his face: he was covered in blood and sewer muck. She probably looked just as battered.

"Am I—Jo!" he shook his head, chuckling. "I'm alive and well because of you," he whispered, then kneeled closer to her, kissing the tip of her nose.

"And me, don't forget to thank the mage," Laurentius scoffed, but he was smiling. "We went through a lot of trouble to get you back," he lifted his chin.

"That's an understatement," Jo exhaled.

"Indeed," Alaric squeezed her hand.

"I need a bath," Jo said, after a moment. She was serious, but the comment made everyone laugh— oh, the relief of mundane worries. She couldn't help but chuckle too, finally breathing easy.



Jo was tying up her boots, sitting on the edge of her bed. She was nervous. As she bathed, she had time to think about the reason why saving Alaric was needed. She was afraid. Alaric said she might not look at him the same way afterward. She doubted it, but she feared it could be true. She didn't know herself as good as she thought.

"Jo," Alaric placed a hand on her shoulder, startling her. He needed to stop doing that.

"Alaric," she sighed. Alaric ran a hand through his hair. He was shaved now, not entirely, but he looked like the man she had been traveling with all those months. She felt a tug in her heart.

"I suppose we need to have a chat," Jo made room next to her, beckoned him to sit. Her hands were shaking, but she didn't let it show. He nodded, silently. He didn't sit.

"I talked to your grandmother," he mentioned. "The City Guard established a curfew after what we unleashed into the city, they took the time to go door to door giving the news as we patched ourselves up. Laurentius managed to fuzz the patrons' memories before they came knocking, they don't remember seeing us, thank the creators," he pressed his lips. "And I suppose it's time for you to know it wasn't all for nothing. Laurentius, he gave me the details. I really owe you guys my life," he was dreading their conversation too, she realized. Her stomach was starting to hurt.

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