Burning Red Of Wrath - ✨🪭

✨🪭28 Never had the luxury of being perfectly fine.

✨🪭28 Never had the luxury of being perfectly fine.

Palace of Rana

Nimit watched as Ivaan struggled with the simplest task: tying bandages for wounded soldiers. The once-ferocious warrior, now  novice, elicited both surprise and concern.

Nimit approached him, his footsteps silent on the ground."What's wrong with the air of this land?" Nimit asked, his voice low.

"It's changing everything. I never expected to see the great Prince Ivaan attempting to learn healing." He said with a undertone of humor.

Ivaan's glare could have melted steel. " Okay, In my defense," he retorted, "I'm the leader—the one who takes the most injuries. I've never had the luxury of being perfectly fine while my soldiers suffered. Except, perhaps, for this one, where I didn't expect these many casualties, from a certain someone."

Nimit raised an eyebrow. "Fair point," he conceded. "But that's definitely not how you do it, Ivaan. Let me show you."

He kneeled beside a wounded soldier, his hands deftly working the linen bandages. Nimit had been part healer thanks to Ivaan and his never-ending cycle of injuries.

He knew the importance of proper care—the difference between life and death. "First," Nimit explained, "you clean the wound. Dirt and infection are our enemies. Then, you tie the bandage firmly but not too tight. Support broken bones with splints, like this."
He demonstrated, his precise movements. He apologized to the solider, who might not like the learning lessons, but the soliders were anything but enthusiastic to be any help for their prince.

Ivaan watched, absorbing every detail. His fingers fumbled, but determined to prove something . "Why now?" he asked. "Why learn healing when you have always been the sword-wielding prince?"Nimit's gaze  questioned.

"Because," he said, "a true leader doesn't just wield a sword. They mend hearts, bind wounds, and inspire hope. Healing is as vital as battle. Besides, someday you'll rule not only with strength but also with compassion. I heard this somewhere, and why not try?" Ivaan answered vaguely.

"Really? Is that the reason?" Nimit said he was not buying it at all.

"fine!" Ivaan sighed, "The thing is ive been criticized for being terrible. But now I feel challenged, and I'm determined to prove them wrong."

"That's more like it, Was it Varun? i mean who else would dare to criticize you?" Nimit exclaimed.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Nimit continued his impromptu lesson. Ivaan listened, practiced, and slowly improved. The wounded soldier, eyes half-closed, murmured his gratitudes made Ivaan feel much more relieved.  All the soliders recieving treatment werenot of a fatal causality except for one the healers were desperately trying to win time for, he was injured in the struggle of trying to rescue Arjun from the tent a fatal blow to chest, he had went into Neurogenic shock—the term triggered a recent memory of Ivaan.

Palace of Nanda.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the battlefield. The air was thick with the aftermath scent of blood and sweat, and the clash of swords echoed through the night.

Ivaan stood amidst the chaos, as he monitored the area for any additional help needed. The medical tents were set and the ground were getting cleared.

As the news reached Ivaan, he felt a sense of relief. Neurogenic shock—the words echoed in his mind. It was a treacherous condition, one that could render a person unconscious faster than the loss of blood pressure.

Nayan's heart had been wounded, and the shock had taken hold.Ivaan's gaze shifted to the medical tent, where the flickering lanterns revealed the frantic movements of healers. They worked tirelessly, their hands stained with blood, trying to stabilize the prince. The battlefield had fallen silent, as if even the gods held their breath, waiting for Nayan's fate to be decided.

The doctors detected faint breathing—a mere whisper of life. But the initial state of Nayan's body made him appear dead. Ivaan frowned at the failed attempts of healers.

The image of Queen Nalini flashed before Ivaan's eyes. Nayan's mother—the woman who had raised Nayan a woman with love and grace. Ivaan knew he had to save Nayan—for her sake.He knelt beside the prince. Nayan's face was pale, his lips tinged blue.. The healers worked feverishly, their hands weaving  and binding wounds."Don't give up, Nayan," Ivaan murmured. "Atleast for your mother." Nayan's eyelids fluttered indicating his life was still there.Ivaan's heart sighed in relief, but guilt gnawed at his insides.

Ivaan walked out distracted watching the moon it always had the calming effect. Varun approached Ivaan, eyes wide with anticipation. "Is it true?" he asked, voice steady. "Is Prince Nayan alive?"Ivaan's nod was solemn. "Yes, but the revival chances are slim. The healers fight to keep him tethered to life. You must inform Queen Nalini."Varun hesitated, staring into the distance. "Will that be right? Let's face it Ivaan We've evaded Nanda's forces, and you—the wound is your doing. The queen has accepted the inevitable. If we offer false hope...now ir would have even more"His words weighed heavily.

Ivaan clenched his fists. Guilt gnawed at him—he whispered. "The Queen she is a good mother, she would want to know this even if it means clinging to the thinnest thread of hope."Varun's gaze softened. "But what if Nayan doesn't make it?"Ivaan's resolve hardened. "I've seen her state, Varun. She searches every wounded face, hoping for a glimpse of her son. She'd trade kingdoms for that moment—even if it's built on false hopes."He stepped closer. "We owe her at the least that much." Varun nodded "I'll fetch Queen Nalini."

Nalini sat vigilantly by Nayan's bedside, her hands tightly clasped in fervent prayer. Her tear-streaked eyes met Ivaan's, and in that poignant moment, gratitude flowed silently between them. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice a fragile thread connecting their shared emotions.Ivaan, was about to say he was unworthy of this gratitude as he was the one who but was taken aback by the unexpected tenderness, he felt Nalini's gentle touch on his cheek. It was as if she had reached across time, invoking memories he had long buried.

The warmth of her embrace enveloped him, and for an instant, he was transported back to his childhood—a faint recollection of his own mother's loving gestures, the way she would hold him close and whisper soothing words.Nalini's simple act of kindness bridged the gap between past and present. Ivaan closed his eyes, allowing the past and present to merge, finding solace in the moment.

.......

He is alive!
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I'll be taking a break for some time. not that long. Maybe like when this book  reaches 19k reads and lots of comments, I'll be back!

Thankyou for reading as always.