A wayward blow (Attn: Bella)

[Lugh]

Beron
Beron shuffled along the sands of the Warder Yards, his training dagger in guard stance as he watched his opponent. The man facing across the sands from Beron was another Drin, an Andoran farmhand who had also started his training here. The two of them had shared several classes and spars together, their farm pasts a shared thread.

Beron liked Bren, akmokokj tough scrappy fighter who was quickly losing the bulk he had began training with. Beron himself had grown fit and strong, even for one raised in the Borderlands. And when Bren pressed his attack, Beron responded quickly. The two of the men traded blows back and forth, the bracers Bren was wearing helping to deflect Beron’s blades as he worked through jabs and slashes. The two men were evenly matched, their movements fast and fluid as they shifted through attack and defence.

Bren caught Beron a glancing blow on his shoulder, a bruise delivering reminder that he had over extended his last slash. Shaking off the frustration, Beron snapped a knee strike forcing Bren to back peddle. After a moment to catch their breath the two men were back at it, Beron leading the press against Bren’s defence once more.

As Bren and Beron sparred, the two men grew more determined to overcome the other; eventually leading Beron to use a few of his unarmed techniques. As Beron was trying to grapple the other man, both of them lost their footing and Beron overextended his hip throw, slamming Bren’s head against the wooden fence. The blow struck with a resounding crack, and when Beron stood he realized Bren was not yet moving.

Catching his breath, he watched in growing concern as the Andoran man stayed still with no sounds of pain. On the verge of panic, he was dashing through the sand when suddenly a rumbling voice sounded in his head.

You should never move him unless truly needed, the back and neck can be easily damaged by such a fall. Look for signs and assess first, echoed Gareth’s voice in Beron’s mind. And so with that in mind, Beron took a deep breath and began to assess his fellow Drin.

Thank the light he’s breathing, Beron thought as he could see Bren’s chest as it rose and fell, he knew that was the first sign to check for. After that he carefully felt along the other man’s back and neck, pulling his hand back when he felt blood. As he looked at his hands, Beron noticed the blood pooling bright crimson on the sand, and he quickly tore strips off his shirt to try and staunch the bleeding. Calling a pair of Drin over, he fashioned a makeshift litter, wrapping jackets around the staffs to allow them to cradle the injured.

———

“Careful, let’s get him situated in a bed, thanks for your help,” Beron said with a wince as the two Drin helping him almost knocked a shelf over. Soon enough he found an empty bed in the Infirmary and they lay the litter down on top of it. Beron had used his jacket to try and support the head as they moved Bren; so he was not surprised that his tattered shirt and the noise of his arrival brought a Novice.

“Please find the Accepted in charge this morning, I’ve done what I can but with his eyes blank like this I’m worried. I need a Delve,” Beron gently tasked the Novice as he set about checking his hasty bandages torn from his shirt.

[Bella]

As the Wheel would have it, that Accepted was Isla Arkema.

As the months had passed since she attained her rank, she had spent more time in the infirmary. It grew to the point where she spent as much time as they allowed her. She still had chores to do and chores to oversee, as well as a myriad of other lessons and things to be learned, but for the most part, her path was set and her time was taken up here.

It amazed her that it was so! The twenty-one days that she had spent here as a patient had made her sure that she'd do everything she could to avoid coming back, and yet that wasn't so. In fact, her time had shown her just what the Yellow was capable of.

And it made her start to believe what she was capable of.

"Accepted!" the Novice called as she hurried to where Isla was working toward the back. "There is an injured Drin and he needs a Delve. He is unconscious and losing blood." The small girl reported quickly, succinctly, and efficiently. Isla had come to be sure that the girl was not destined for the Yellow, however, but the logical White or logistical Brown with an organized mind like that.

"Fetch Gareth Asha'man," Isla said just as quickly. She was not authorized to Heal much on her own, but she could do the Delving and so would assess the level of trauma before the big Asha'man arrived. Before the girl had even run off to her next task, Isla was hurrying through the infirmary to the front.

An errant thought shot through her mind of a trainee she knew...and a strike of fear that the injured one might be him. She hoped that it wasn't, but caught herself and reminded herself to wish it didn't have to be anyone at all!

She almost missed a step when she saw Beron. Well, at least he wasn't hurt.

"What happened?" she asked, forcing herself to be efficient and professional like she had been taught. She was already embracing the One Power and moving closer to Delve.

[Lugh]

Beron
Beron had been deep in the wash basin, scrubbing off the worst of the blood, streaked with sand before it caked on in case he needed to be of further help once the Healer arrived. Washing his friend’s blood off his hands, had Beron feeling guilty over the accident although a small part of him knew deep down it could have happened to anyone.

The sound of footsteps broke his trance like hand washing, and Beron felt his heart sink a little when he saw Isla enter. Light this is not how I had hoped to see her again Beron thought to himself woefully as he stood before Isla covered in sand and blood, strips of his shirt torn off.

Still when she asked what had happened, the question helped shake Beron out of his regret. The injury was what mattered, and so he took a moment to recollect his thoughts. “We were training, while we were grappling I over corrected after a stumble and drove his head into a fence post. When I stood, I realized he was making no sound, and was hardly moving. I’ve spent a lot of time in the Kitchen wood yard and Stables since arriving so I know he took a serious blow,” Beron said, his voice stiff as he wrestled with the recounting.

“I checked him for breathing, he was breathing shallow but breathing. I would not have moved him except I noticed a lot of blood from the back and top of his head. I made a bandage as I was shown here, and then fashioned a little to carry him. I had hoped that would disturb his wound as little as possible,” Beron said as he finished explaining the litter that still lay underneath the unconscious Drin.

“What I could feel of the bleeding, and the fact he hasn’t made much sound worried me, and I knew there was little that could be done without Delving and healing,” said Beron as he moved backwards to allow Isla the room to inspect his bandage at the top of the bed.

[Bella]

"Quick thinking," she said with a faint smile as she moved closer to the injured young man. He had not regained consciousness, and she didn't waste any time with the bandage itself. It would just move him more to do so and she wanted to find the source of the injury before Gareth Asha'man arrived.

She laid her hands lightly upon the young man's shoulders, barely touching him but just enough to help focus the Delving weave. She was not quite skilled enough for in depth Delving without some level of physical contact.

The delicate net of spirit rushed from the top of the trainee's head down to his feet, looking and studying every aspect of his internal and external self as it went. She picked up on all the current injuries, as well as recent injuries that were only partway healed and some injuries from the past that had not healed perfectly.

"What's his condition, Accepted?" The rockslide of Gareth's voice settled over her.

"No spinal damage," she announced as she worked, studying and interpreting. "A slight concussion, but the brain does not appear to be very damaged. I see a severe gash on the back of his head, which is what bled the most. His lack of consciousness is from the concussive force of the blow, but I think he'll wake soon on his own."

Gareth stepped forward and although there was no obvious outward sign, she recognized the look on the large man's face when he Delved. He smiled at her faintly and nodded. "Good work, Accepted. I will attend him now if you wish to return to his other duties."

She curtseyed and stepped back. "Yes, Asha'man."

Inwardly, she was pleased with his praise, slight though it was.

As he went to work, she stepped closer to Beron and offered him a tentative smile.

"Your friend will be fine," she assured him. "Gareth Asha'man is one of the Tower's best Healers, and his injuries look worse than they are. Any injury to the head or face that draws blood draws much of it, even if ultimately shallow. The concussion is a concern, but it looks minor. Some rest and observation should see him well again soon.

[Lugh]

Beron
Beron watched as Isla moved towards Bren, and lightly touched the man’s shoulder. She soon assumed a look that Beron was growing to associate with the concentration required of channeling. He knew little about the skill, but he had spent a few precious free chimes in the Infirmary so he knew she would be Delving.

"What's his condition, Accepted?" The rockslide of Gareth's voice startled Beron as he had been lost in worry, and seeing Isla at work, her sweet voice listing off the varying ailments and injuries Bren had suffered because of their training mishap.

"Your friend will be fine," she assured him. "Gareth Asha'man is one of the Tower's best Healers, and his injuries look worse than they are. Any injury to the head or face that draws blood draws much of it, even if ultimately shallow. The concussion is a concern, but it looks minor. Some rest and observation should see him well again soon.”

Beron was glad Isla had taken the time to reassure him, though his gut was a slowly settling storm of guilt and stress. Still he took her words as encouraging and with a shadow of a smile thanked her, “Thank you Isla. I have learnt enough to worry myself sick. I’ve seen Gareth Ashaman at work before, Bren is in good hands.”

Beron looked down at his hands, and felt oddly out of place at the bedside of someone he’d injured, so he stepped out to one of the stools nearby, a small head nod his invitation to Isla.

“If you would do me a favour and check in on him if you’re here. I know it was an accident, but it’s still the first time I’ve caused harm to another. Silly for a Drin I suppose, but it happened so fast,” Beron said as he looked to Isla and hoped he didn’t sound ridiculous.

[Bella]

Isla took a quick glance around the infirmary to make sure that no one else needed her at that exact moments, and assuring herself that it was otherwise quiet for now, she joined Beron and sat beside him. She listened without comment until he was done, giving him a small smile but one of earnest sympathy.

"Yes, that first time is...always the hardest," she said. Then she realized what she'd said. She blinked a few times, wondering just how much she wanted to explain.

"I, er, I was a soldier...before I came to the Tower," she told him softly, almost with embarrassment. Okay, no "almost." She was embarrassed. Ashamed. Not for being a soldier, but what she had been a soldier for. "I remember the first time I was injured in training, and the first time I injured another. I recall the first time I injured an enemy in an actual fight."

She shuddered at the memory. "It's hard," she finally said, taking a deep breath and trying to keep herself from dwelling. Without thinking, she put her hand over his. Was it to comfort him, or herself? "So, I understand. But he'll be alright."

[Lugh]

Beron Beron was glad for the relatively rare moment of calm in the Infirmary. He knew that moments of privacy here were to be savoured, and he was glad when Isla sat beside him. As he finished trying to explain his feelings to her, and was amazed both by the ease with which he shared with her; and more importantly how she was such an excellent listener..

"Yes, that first time is...always the hardest," Isla said, and Beron started for a moment as the meaning behind her words sunk in. He remembered from their talk at the lake that she had taken a little longer to chatter than him, and so he gave her a moment to collect her thoughts.

"I, er, I was a soldier...before I came to the Tower," she told him softly, her voice filled with thoughts of the past. “I remember the first time I was injured in training, and the first time I injured another. I recall the first time I injured an enemy in an actual fight."

Beron could feel Isla’s breath catch as she shuddered at the memory. "It's hard," she finally said, taking a deep breath as she put her hand over his.”So, I understand. But he'll be alright."

Beron sat there, enjoying the comfort of her hand on his, and the nearness of her as he considered her words. Questions buzzed in his head, but the first thing he noticed was the comfort her words had given him. “Thank you Isla, your words were exactly what I needed to hear. I guess much like you said at the lakeside, I am hoping to learn what I can here to build and protect.”

Beron smiled softly at Isla, daring for a moment to interlace his fingers with hers as they laid on the wooden bench between them. He wished he had paid more attention to his mother and sister, for he knew that Isla had shared something personal to make him feel better. And to show you she meant what she said, not just empty words Beron thought to himself as he considered her gender gesture.

Turning to her, he kept his hand twined with hers and looked into her bright blue eyes, “I know sharing what you did goes against a lot of customs here. Many at the Grey Tower break from the past, and I recall you saying you are building a new life here,” he paused for a moment to squeeze her hand, hoping it let her know his sincerity. “I appreciate your tenderness, I can see why Yellow would call to you. I am glad you were here today, for many reasons.”

[Bella]

Isla felt the warmth of a blush sweep over her cheeks and although she glanced down with a shy laugh, she was sure that she couldn't hide it fast enough to not be seen. "We break from the past as best we can," she said, still with her gaze averted while she waited for the embarrassing rose color to leave her face. "But we cannot avoid it entirely. It created us, and we must acknowledge that."

After a moment, she felt a little less heat and lifted her gaze. She worried on her bottom lip for a moment, feeling his hand with hers. "I am glad I was here too," she said. "I'm glad I could help at all. I--"

She was interrupted by the soft clearing of a throat in a voice like rocks rolling together. She inhaled a squeak and all but tore her hand from his, putting them in her lap as she turned to face Gareth Asha'man with another wretched tell-tale blush. She didn't see any censure in his gaze, though she didn't see much in general.

The big Yellow looked at Beron first. "Your friend will be fine. He has been Healed, but will remain here for another day to be observed for any further trauma that might arise. But we'll take good care of him." Then, he looked at Isla again. "A few more minutes and then you're needed back to your duties." His tone sounded...kind beneath the usual impassive rumble.

Isla nodded quickly. "Yes, Asha'man," she agreed meekly.

His pale eyes swung between the pair one more time before he left them to return to his other duties. She put her hand to her chest, willing her thrumming heart to slow again. "I... I am sorry I cannot talk longer. But...would you like..." She stumbled over every other word coming out of her nervous lips. "Like to meet me at next free period? I will be done here by then."

[Lugh]

Beron
Beron was fast becoming fond of the way Isla blushed, although he knew she was probably embarrassed by it. But the rose color gave her cheeks a healthy flush and really helped light up her eyes, thought Beron to himself as he felt a similar warmth spread over his face.

With a shy laugh, she averted her face from his and Beron kept hold of her hand while she spoke. "We break from the past as best we can," she said, still with her gaze averted. "But we cannot avoid it entirely. It created us, and we must acknowledge that."

After a moment, as Beron sat content to enjoy a moment of peace stolen from the chaos of their schedules, Isla lifted her gaze. She worried on her bottom lip for a moment, feeling his hand with hers. "I am glad I was here too," she said. "I'm glad I could help at all. I--"

Beron felt his heart jump through his chest, when he head the familiar granite voice of Gareth Ashaman as he cleared his throat. Beron could not imagine how long the large man had been standing there, and he cursed himself for not noticing Gareth’s approach.

The big Yellow looked at Beron first. "Your friend will be fine. He has been Healed, but will remain here for another day to be observed for any further trauma that might arise. But we'll take good care of him." Beron modded mutely, too unsure of what the Ashaman would say to reply beyond a quickly mumbled, “Thank you Ashaman.”

Then, Gareth looked at Isla again. "A few more minutes and then you're needed back to your duties." His tone sounded...kind beneath the usual impassive rumble.

His pale eyes swung between the pair one more time before he left them to return to his other duties. Beron breathed a nervous sigh, knowing that it could have been much worse. He worried for a moment for Isla, as the higher rank she would feel censure worse than his; but in his time at the Infirmary he had learned a small measure of the giant Yellow. Gareth was fair, and if there was a punishment to be had, he would have delivered it right away.

As Beron mused, Isla put her hand to her chest, and Beron could well imagine she was trying to calm as well. “I... I am sorry I cannot talk longer. But...would you like..." She stumbled over every other word coming out of her nervous lips. "Like to meet me at next free period? I will be done here by then."

Beron felt relieved at her words, and he looked around carefully before squeezing her hands and offering Isla a smile, “I will be there. I can meet you wherever you would like. At the next free period, we can continue our conversation then...” standing up he helped Isla to her feet, offering her his arm though both knew she did not need it. “Till then,” Beron said as he collected his torn shirt and jacket, before glancing her way one last time and heading off to the Warder Yard.