Chapter 2

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Theodore darted back to the main gate with the speed of an arrow. A familiar scenario indeed, seemingly nothing in this world can bring him fear or hesitation.

For he has trained for decades.

Several camouflage trucks carrying the wounded soldiers from the battlefield arrived outside the mansion just in time for Theodore to return, waiting for his command...

Cecil, who is already at front, shouts out loud. "Hurry! Severe cases head to the left, the rest go to the back."

Waves after wave filled the rooms to the hallways in no time, with varieties of injuries. The sight of pain can easily be seen in their austere faces, the whimper of suffering, and the iron smell hauntedly consumed the air. For once Cecil believed fierce fighters who were arrogant to the point of death were incredibly out of reach. When the soldiers with guns and swords in their hands, bathed in the victorious lights of glory came across her village, with little curiosity, Cecil trusted that someday those archangels of war would bring back eternal peace. But here they are, writhing in pain and more vulnerable than ever.

"Cecil, what should we do? His pulse is losing," The panicked voice of a nurse reached out to Cecil, seeking her guidance. His hands, pull the bandage to clamp the wound on the soldier's chest, hoping it will somehow buy more time. "The wounds look dead serious! Hurry, Cecil! We don't have much time left."

Cecil quickly grabs as many clothes as she can, wrapping them around the surface of the bleeding wound. "We have to stop it first, or else it will be too late!" Blood soaks even faster, ironically announcing how hopeless they are at saving this dying body. With his breath becoming more and more narrow, Cecil realizes time is running out. Immediately jumps over his body to stop the stream under her very own pair of hands.

The clock struck at last...

"Come on! Come back to me..." Cecil desperately growls. Sweat and tears rolling down her cheeks left only faint sobbing sounds. Her hands are still stubbornly moving on their own."Just a little more, y-you will be alright!"

"Cecil....stop! He's dead!" The nurse yelled in terror, his face covered in tears. The soldier's body is now lifeless. Here lies on his chest, a crimson flower of blood dazzle blooming.

I...failed? Cecil zoned out to her velvet hands. Having witnessed countless deaths, Cecil thought she had gotten used to this scene. Nevertheless, life had slipped away through her fingers, like a leaf silently farewell, leaning on the wind on the journey to the neverland. All of a sudden, Cecil can't hear a single sound besides her trembling breath. "Why?" Her sight was blurred in mist, the trembling little hands holding the apron.

"Cecil! I need your help over here!..."

"Cecil please get over here, this is urgent..."

As if nothing could reach her, Cecil just stands still, looking at her hands. Floods of emotions washed under the big glasses.

A gentle touch then lands on the shoulder blade, pulling her from the chaotic sea, "It's alright, Cecil, you have done your best. Now leave the rest to me." Patted her head, warm navy eyes settling on her with tenderness. "We are no Gods, Cecil, this is not your fault." The girl finally returned, slowly nodding at Theodore before joining the others.

"Alice, can you ask any soldiers if they can help us? I am afraid we are in a fairly tight situation now." Theodore commands in a calm manner, "Severely wounded? I see. Let him lie here...Don't forget to give him some painkillers if needed."

Thanks to his leadership, the chaotic scene from earlier turns out to be something that lies in a distant memory. There is no doubt that Theodore earned the title of "saint" through the countless lives he saved for all those years. His patience is something not many can achieve, especially at a such young age. As if a conductor elegantly leading his orchestra, Theodore wasted no effort in guiding the train on its right track.

Now that the main issues have been solved, the figure of Cecil once again returns. The image of a red-haired girl clumsily hid her weakness, blindly blaming herself. Certainly, it's not too hard for Theodore to find Cecil, with her habit of always isolating herself in her own room whenever bad days come, just like back when she was a child. With the advantage of knowing Cecil for so long, Theodore knows that cookies will definitely lift her mood. After taking some freshly baked cookies from the jar in the kitchen, Theodore now stands in front of the big wooden door, hesitantly saying, "Cecil... Can I have a minute with you?"

...Only silence replies back... Ten minutes have passed, yet the person inside shows no sign of acknowledgment or letting him in.

"Cecil... I know what that felt like... The feeling of hopelessly watching someone lose their life in front of you." Theodore leaned against the frame, letting out a quiet sigh. "But I also know that among all of us, you are the one who always strives forward with such lively energy, as bright as the Sun."

The smell of freshly baked cookies dissipating in the air reminds him of some distant memories, of a little Cecil sneakily stealing some for her, with crumbs stuck around like a beard.

"What are we supposed to do without your strength?" Theodore laughed to himself.

"I should be the one asking that question, you know... You are the one handling all of this, not me," Cecil states in a low voice through the door's crack. "But you are the one handling when I am absent, not to mention doing a great job wrapping things up for me." His assuring voice echoes in the air, reaching her soft spots. It's so annoying he is always able to read others' minds easily, like an open book. Cecil is surely upset.

Not waiting for her mental recovery, Theodore continued, "None of this is your fault. I am sure he would be thankful that you did not give up on him until the very last minute." Cecil looked at him surprisingly, tears calling for each other, falling from her pure green eyes. The simple yet assuring words of Theodore easily lift the heavyweight she bears in her mind, just like warm arms wrap around her unease heart, untangling the knots. "Just so you know, I opened the door because of the cookies, not you."

"I..."

"Theodore, a person is asking for your presence." A familiar voice interrupted. "He comes from the same regiment. It appears to be an urgent matter."

Looking at Theodore's back disappearing through the staircase, Cecil falls into contemplation. "What if one day I can't save you? Will you leave me as they did?" Hanging those thoughts, Cecil slowly closed the heavy door.

Welcome, Theodore, is the sight of a young man. His chestnut eyes glanced around the room nervously, strolling in a hesitant manner. A surprise glimpse crossed their eyes, then the mysterious man bows formally to him, "I am Luke Davidson. Pleasant to meet you, Doctor." His rigid tone summarizes briefly the situation, "We were under attack... Our comrades have used blood and lives for us to be here. They are fearless of us all, and I know they will not be defeated easily. Please Dr. Theodore, please help us repay their gratitude... "

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