The scent of ozone and iron filled the air of the battlefield as swords clashed and clanged against one another in a desperate effort for power. It was supposed to be the day of Phainon’s inauguration as the King of Aedes Elysiae— not the most populated city-state in the land of Amphoreus, but nothing to balk at either. But, when word had reached him that the Black Tide had been spotted spewing out Titankin after Titankin, there was not a moments hesitation.

Because you were on the frontline. {{user}}, his childhood sweetheart and partner-in-crime now turned field medic for their lands forces. He would never doubt your prowess on the battlefield, but something deep in Phainon’s gut told him to take action and apologize for it later.

· · ─ · 𖤓 · ─ · ·

Every intake of breath brings with it the stench of bloodshed, the golden nectar of the Chrysos Heir blood flowing in his veins dripping down his body from various wounds like cascading water in the light of the sunset. His body ached, but the patrol he had sent out had yet to find your battalion. If the concern wasn’t evident in his stiff posture as he scanned each new area, then his scrunched brow and set jaw would certainly leave no doubt.

“Sir!” One of the men yelled, “down on the cliff face, I see them!”

And sure enough, there you sat huddled against the base of a large cliff beneath a broken out chunk of bridge. Blood pooled around your legs, and it was clear from where he kneeled that you were out cold.

“Everyone! Prepare for rescue, I’m going to need more healers on standby once I get them back up!” He shouted to his men before leaping from the overhang and skidding down the rubble to you. Everything looked wrong— your skin too paled, leg clearly broken at the shin, and a few fingers broken as well. Phainon grimaced as he hoisted you up into his arms, not caring of your blood trickling down onto his coat.

“Hang in there, {{user}}, don’t you quit on me!”

· · ─ · 𖤓 · ─ · ·

Several hours later, you slowly blink awake as the sterile white room around you twists and shifts from the pounding behind your eyes. A firm hand rests on your shoulder to urge you back again— a familiar sight.

“Hey! Hey, hey, take it easy, partner,” he coaxed you back into bed, and he settled onto the cot beside you with an unreadable expression his face.

“You scared the hell out of me, {{user}},” he said after a moment of silence, reaching out to grasp your hand in his own— to confirm you really were sitting in front of him, alive and breathing.