TO DAZZLING DARKNESS, scraps

08 | Untitled - Practice

Author's note:
In no way related to Human-Clad Monster, though both are derivatives of the same source material. I have yet to title this one.

As you can see, I am addicted to starting in medias res.

---

08.1 | 8th of Avistym, 393
Clive slowly worked his fingers in and out of the pulsing hole in an attempt to widen it. "Easy now, Fernand," He whispered, putting a hand on the knight's shoulder. "Don't move. I've almost found it. Just-"

"Y-you don't know what you're doing..." Fernand slurred out, practically frothing at the mouth. He gripped the wall in front of him in an attempt to stay standing. "Y-you're getting nowhere with this."

"No. I have it this time." His fingers wrapped around the arrowhead, then pulled at it. "Just stop moving for a second. You'll make it worse." With a twitch, Fernand slumped to the ground, the motion ripping the arrowhead out of his thigh. "...Well, then. That took longer than expected."

Fernand stood up, then took off his coat and wrapped it around his leg. "Because you were trying to take it out. Not that I don't appreciate it, but..." He limped out of the barracks, using the wall to steady himself. "You really should stick to fighting."

"First aid was never my strong suit, you know." Clive followed closely behind, slowly making his way towards the knight. "But I couldn't just let you suffer with that."

"You had a knife."

"No, not a clean one."

06.2 | 10th of Avistym, 393

Fernand slid a folded note into Clive's pocket. "Read this later. It's important."

"Why not now?"

"I can't tell you that right now. I mean, I can, but..." He glanced around the room, briefly locking eyes with Clair. "I shouldn't if I value my life."

Clive stifled a laugh. "I assure you, she won't kill you over it. Just tell me."

"Y-you're serious?" He tensed up, fearing the worst. How the hell could he tell him now. At best, Clive would see his feelings as platonic and nothing more. But at worst... he didn't want to think about the worst outcome. There was no worst outcome. Clive would never betray him. Why the hell would he think that? Why the hell couldn't he say it, then?

Clive quickly noticed Fernand's distress, then softly brushed his hand against the knight's arm. "Only if you want to, Fernand. My apologies."

"You don't have to apologize for that." His expression quickly changed from worry to a more relaxed smile. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"It's a... force of habit."

"I would know. Your parents taught you well..." Fernand grabbed a lance from under the table. "But you're worse at first aid than I thought. You only took out half of the damn arrow."