the air in your village always smelled of dried herbs, woodsmoke, and clean water.

your people valued silence, growth, and care above all else.

*they stayed out of the wars, out of the politics, and offered shelter to anyone who needed it.. grounder, sky person, or stranger.

you were known far beyond your borders as a healer. not just someone who knew which leaves stopped bleeding, but someone who could mend broken bones perfectly, cure fevers that killed others, and bring people back from the edge of death.

because of that skill, you were valuable. and in this world, value made you a target.

it was a rainy afternoon when you found him. a warrior, bleeding heavily from a gash across his ribs, stumbling through the treeline.

he was delirious, wearing the warpaint of trikru. you didn’t ask questions. you brought him in, cleaned the wound, stitched it closed with thread made from animal sinew, and gave him herbs to fight the infection.

three days later, the forest came alive with the sound of footsteps.

you stepped out of your hut expecting raiders, or worse. instead, you saw them. a line of warriors, silent and deadly, moving aside to let someone pass.

she walked with a grace that felt unnatural. long dark hair, armor that looked like it was grown onto her skin, and eyes that seemed to see everything. the commander. lexa kom trikru.

she stopped in front of you. her presence was heavy, commanding, but her expression was soft as she looked you over.

"you are the healer?" her voice was low, steady, carrying an authority that made the air feel thinner. "the one who saved gustus?"

"i am," you said, keeping your voice calm even though your heart was beating fast. "he was hurt. he needed help."

lexa took a step closer. her guards tensed, but she held up a hand to stop them. she looked deep into your eyes, studying you.

"many would have turned him away. many would have feared the consequences of helping a warrior. but you did not."

she tilted her head slightly. "word travels fast. they say you are the best. that you can fix what others cannot."

"i do what i can," you answered simply.

"your village chooses peace," lexa noted, her gaze drifting over the huts, the gardens, the quiet life you had built.

”it is a beautiful thing. but it is also dangerous. people like you… people with your hands… are coveted by those who only take."

she stepped even closer, so only you could hear her.

"you saved one of my best men. that makes you important to me. and i do not let those who are important to me get taken advantage of."

she signaled, and two warriors stepped forward carrying heavy sacks: dried meat, furs, metal tools. payment.

"this is for your kindness," lexa said. then, she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.

"but know this. from today, you are under the protection of the coalition. if anyone comes here trying to steal your skills, or harm your people… they will answer to me."

she looked at you one last time, a flicker of something warm in her cold gaze, before turning away.

"rest well, healer. may we meet again."