Korik left one more time to gather more of the herbs and leaves he’d found, on the off-chance Varen worsened in the night and needed more medicine—and even if not, it would be good to have extras in case of an emergency. When he got back to camp, the elf was still sleeping in the same position he’d been in when Korik left, so hopefully his sleep was more restful.
By now it was only mid-afternoon, and there were several hours of sunlight left. It felt like a waste not to continue foraging, but Korik was also wary of leaving Varen alone and helpless for too long—not to mention getting lost if he traveled too far from the camp. No, it would be safer to stay; they had enough rations for now.
Normally, they slept on opposite sides of the campfire, but Korik didn’t want to be too far from Varen in case he got worse. So he laid out his bedroll beside the sleeping elf, ignoring how awkward he felt to be so uncomfortably close to him. He had to be close for observation. If he was too far away, he might not notice a change until it was too late.
He spent most of the day worrying over their situation while tending to the fire; observing nearby birds and small creatures as they went about their lives; and looking over at Varen for any sign of his fever increasing or other distress. Luckily, the bitter medicine seemed to have done the trick, and the elf was sleeping much more calmly now.
Korik wasn’t tired by the time the sun started setting, but he knew he was mostly running on adrenaline. He could feel that a bit of magic had returned to him over the course of the day, but not enough to do anything substantial. The sooner he rested, the sooner his magic would be replenished enough to get Varen well again; then they could assess what they would do from there. But they had to survive first, and that meant getting through tonight, before worrying about the rest.
So he laid in his bedroll beside the sleeping elf and closed his eyes. He felt uncomfortably aware of Varen’s presence beside him: the sound of his breathing, and the soft rustle of his movements. But that was the entire reason he was so close, to be aware of him. It was just like any other patient, no matter how strange his body felt to be this close to Varen.
Sleep didn’t come easily, but it must have come for Korik, eventually. Nothing interrupted his sleep in the night, but when he woke, he saw Varen awake beside him. The elf’s face was pale and damp with sweat, but he managed a small smirk as Korik looked at him. He realized with a start their faces were only inches apart.
“Strange times, strange bedfellows, and all that, eh?” he said, his voice still raspy. Korik’s face flooded with heat, and he sat up quickly, embarrassed.
“I had to make sure you didn’t get worse in the night,” he muttered defensively, and Varen laughed again.
“Appreciate your kindness,” he said. Despite his teasing tone, he seemed unwilling to sit up on his own. Korik could feel his magic had replenished with rest, so with any luck they would be breaking camp and heading out within the hour.
“Let me see the wound,” Korik prompted him. Varen’s brow furrowed.
“You should check our surroundings first,” he said. “I’d rather know where we are, and how we can get out of here.”
Korik frowned. “It’s more important that you’re at full health and able to walk.”
“If you don’t have enough to do both, find out where we are first,” Varen insisted.
“The knowledge is meaningless without you,” Korik said. Varen’s eyes seemed to widen, and Korik felt his face flush again, realizing how...strongthe phrasing he’d used was. “I mean... It’s like you said. We need each other to survive. So I need you walking. Or at least alive.”
Varen’s surprised expression had morphed into the same smug smirk as always. “Why, Korik,” he said. “I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. I had no idea you felt that way.”
Korik huffed, trying to play off his mortification as annoyance. “You must be feeling better.”
Varen chuckled, but his smile became more of a grimace. He still hadn’t tried to sit up, so Korik was sure he was still in pain. How could Varen have thought Korik might ever entertain the idea ofnothealing him as soon as he could? He might have been a druid, but he was a healer first—his life in Drol Kuggradh had given him much more experience in the healing arts than anything else.
“Not as feverish, at least. Your horrible medicine did its job,” Varen murmured, wrinkling his nose with disgust. “But... There is still a lot of pain.”
“Let me see,” Korik prompted again. This time, Varen obeyed, gingerly pulling back the torn fabric of his trousers to reveal the wound. There was more redness than there had been last time Korik had looked it over, but the swelling was reduced. There was certainly a lingering infection, but he knew how to deal with that.
“This will only take a moment. It may hurt a bit, but it will be temporary,” Korik said softly, gingerly pressing his fingers to the bare skin around the wound and ignoring the way his stomach fluttered at touching Varen’s thigh. The elf hissed at the contact, tensing, but didn’t pull away.
He took his time now, letting his magic carefully seek out the pocket of infection that had been left behind, the tendrils of it reaching through muscle fibers and blood vessels. He gathered it all up into himself, filtering it out of the elf’s blood, until he was sure he had found everything. Then, as gingerly as he could, he made a small incision from within—Varen groaned in discomfort—and pulled out all the infection through it, blood and pus trickling out from the puncture until everything drained away. Finally, he went back and closed up the small wound that he’d made, then neatened up the original wound from the arrow that he’d healed too hastily.
When everything was as it should be, Korik pulled his hands away, and Varen let out a long sigh of relief.
“Feels better already,” he said, carefully stretching his leg.
“The symptoms of the infection may take a bit of time to subside, so keep resting until you feel well,” Korik said. “It should clear up within an hour, though. If you’re still feeling unwell after that, I can check you over again.”
“I’ll be fine,” Varen said, waving a dismissive hand. “Can you still figure out where we are?”
Korik sighed. “Yes. It may take some time. Rest while I look, alright?”
Varen muttered something under his breath, but he settled back into his bedroll without any further fuss. Korik stood and stretched, going through the morning routine that they had established in the earlier days of their journey. But he stoked the fire up a little from the embers, rather than burying it completely—unsure how long they might stay, or how cold it might remain.
Once he’d had a few bites of hard bread and cheese to sate his complaining stomach, Korik knelt back down and pressed his open palms to the earth, pushing past the layer of fallen leaves and pine needles to be in direct contact with the soil. He closed his eyes and expanded his awareness outward, his magic traveling through the cool layer of the earth in search of signs of life.
The first creature he snagged was a rabbit, hiding beneath the gnarled roots of a tree not far from where they’d made camp. Its vantage point was too low to tell Korik anything useful, so he released it and kept searching.
