Chapter 67: 67. Not a Destination, A Starting Point
Lucian was beginning to get the gold theme. She said that in her order, gold stood for purity and God’s favor.
She also said with a smile that never quite left that it was very expensive, which had always made sense to her in a philosophical way. It made sense that the divine would also like good materials if it liked people.
"You’re wearing your whole treasury," Octavia said, sitting on the floor with her legs crossed and her arms on her knees, watching Serenia with the real interest of someone who knows they are kindred spirits.
"Only the portable part," Serenia said calmly.
The way she talked about healing was the only thing that broke through Lucian’s laughter and made him feel something real.
She said she didn’t fight because she couldn’t, but because it was her job to make sure the people she helped didn’t have to fight their way out of situations that a better defensive strategy could have stopped.
She had spent three hundred years getting better at keeping people alive when they should have died.
"Death," she said, "is just another status effect to get rid of if you catch it in time."
Marshal, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and a look on her face that said she wasn’t sure how she felt about this new development, said, "Your healing is impressive. But don’t coddle him. He needs to stay sharp."
Serenia looked at her with the patient amusement of someone who had heard this worry from a hundred combat experts who cared about the people they were telling her not to coddle. "Dear, I won’t coddle him. I’ll spoil him rotten. There’s a difference. Coddling makes people weak, but spoiling makes them strong."
After that, there was a pause while Marshal thought about the implications.
"That’s probably true," Octavia said to no one in particular.
"I like her," Octavia told Glacielle.
"You would," Glacielle said, but the edge of it had softened from where it had been twenty minutes ago.
The healing magic had worked and changed Lucian’s condition in a way that was clear in the way he was sitting. He wasn’t sitting still like he had been to avoid making the synchronization damage worse.
No one doubted Serenia’s skills, no matter what else she was.
...
They left the capital with 100 elite soldiers, every A-rank adventurer who had chosen to stay instead of defending a temporarily stable front, and General Ironheart, who said he was coming because it was his city and his responsibility and he had survived worse than this by a comfortable margin.
Seraphina and Kaelen joined the column without much talking, and Brother Aldric came with his healing staff and the strong will of someone who had decided that the best way to stop more corruption was to go straight to the source.
Serenia walked out of the barracks and looked at the army that had gathered there. She did this with the skill of someone who had spent a long time judging many military forces.
"Is this the force?" she said, and her tone made it clear that she wasn’t impressed but would make do with what she had.
General Ironheart stopped in his tracks. He looked at her with an expression that changed many times. Finally, he recognized her, and with that came a complicated emotional weather system.
"Serenia Halcyon," he said. Not really a question.
"Fredfort Ironheart." She said his first name like she had known him when it was important. "I see you’re still alive. How great."
"Do you two know each other?" Lucian asked, looking back and forth between them.
"She saved my life three times during the Siege of Thornheld." Ironheart said, "Forty years ago." The respect in his voice was plain, direct, and without ceremony.
Serenia looked at his missing eye like a professional looking over their past work. She said, "You were incredibly careless back then."
"I see you haven’t learned anything."
"Some habits never change."
"Mm." She moved to Lucian’s side with the same ease as before, settling down next to him as if she had always been there.
"At least this one has me now," she said as she put her hand on his shoulder. "I won’t let him turn out like you, dear."
Ironheart looked like he was going to smile. It was the kind of "almost" that made it seem like he still smiled sometimes, but with many rough edges.
Serenia held up her staff.
The golden light that came out of it was unlike anything Lucian had seen from her in the recovery room. This was a very specific and focused application of healing, expertly used to address a particular problem.
This was big, like a wave that spread out from her position in a wide, warm arc. When it hit the soldiers standing in formation, it didn’t ask for permission.
Every wound in the army healed. Every soldier who had carefully stood around a wound or moved like someone in pain stood up straight and breathed out like people who had forgotten what it was like to not hurt.
The quiet lasted for about two seconds before it turned into the sound of a hundred people all at once realizing that their bodies were working right.
"That’s..." Seraphina, who was four rows back, said it in a professional tone that made it sound like she had seen a lot of high-level magic and was adjusting her scale. "That range of mass healing is new to me."
"Basic prep work," Serenia said, and she didn’t look worn out. "My master’s army can’t fall apart before we get there."
"You can heal a hundred people at once?" Lucian asked.
"I can heal a thousand, sweet boy. But let’s not waste our resources."
"We have fifty miles to go." She held the staff loosely in one hand and looked at him with the expression that he was starting to recognize as her default: the warm, slightly superior amusement of someone who thought the world was always less impressive than herself but was still fond of it. "Should we march?"
He spoke to the army because Ironheart stepped aside in a way that made it clear that he was commanding the right person. Lucian felt the weight of the moment and didn’t flinch.
"Ten days ago," he said, and his voice carried in the still mountain air, "I was nothing."
"I was a failure who succumbed to a falling can."
There was some laughter in the front ranks, the kind of laughter that comes from people who aren’t sure if they heard right but are going with it. "Today I stand with legends."
"With family." He looked at his five warriors, who were all different, from Glacielle’s steady blue calm to Serenia’s golden calm. "And with heroes."
He looked at the soldiers. "Corvus thinks he’s already won."
"He has a thousand people in chains and a ritual circle ready to destroy this world. But he’s wrong."
"We’re bringing those people home. Every single one."
He wasn’t sure what he had expected the answer to sound like, but it was louder than that.
Serenia held her staff high next to him, and a golden dome of light spread over the whole army, making it look warm and shimmering.
"And I’ll make sure you all come home," she said in a voice that was easy to hear. "Nobody dies on my watch."
If anything, the second round of noise was louder than the first.
The marching formation fell into place over the first few miles, just like any group of strong-willed professionals would. Octavia was the tank, so she went first. That’s where tanks went.
Marshal stood in the front-left so she could see threats and respond without stopping. Glacielle settled into the back guard with the contentment of someone who had found their perfect spot.
Serenia stood next to Lucian and linked her arm through his in a way that made it clear she had made up her mind and didn’t care what anyone else thought.
"Now then, darling," she said, as if she were picking up where they had left off after the last thousand things that had to be done. "Tell me about yourself."
"What do you like? What do you want to do?"
"Uh," Lucian said. "Gaming? From my old world. And I’m not dead yet."
She laughed, the kind of laugh that had real joy behind the polish. "How humble."
"We’ll have to work on your goals. A master should want more than just to live."
"Survival seems like a good starting point."
"Not a destination, but a starting point." She squeezed his arm with the quick affection of someone who liked him. "Once you’re more settled, you’ll think bigger."
"They always do."
Glacielle, two steps behind, was watching Serenia’s arm through Lucian’s with an expression that Octavia, who was next to her, quietly recorded.
"She’s very comfortable with him," Glacielle said in a calm voice.
"She’s been taking care of people professionally for hundreds of years," Octavia said. "Comfort is probably just how she works."
"Mm." Octavia thought it was a positive sign that the frost fans were in their holsters.
"Are you envious?"
"No." There was a pause. "She keeps calling him a sweet boy."
"He is pretty sweet."
Glacielle made a sound that was not quite yes and not quite no, and it had a lot of "I know that, but she doesn’t need to say it."
Without turning around, Marshal said from the front of the group, "If you three are done talking about whether our new healer is too affectionate, we have fifty miles of possibly dangerous land to cross."
