“A week,” Alwyn echoed uncertainly.
“A week of downtime seems a small price to pay,” Krujha said, his voice light and almost teasing. “Besides, you need the rest, Alwyn.”
He managed a slight smile. “You’re right, of course.”
The healer set him up in a room on the ground floor of the dwelling, where he saw all his patients. The room was small, but full of natural light from a window that faced away from the main thoroughfare, keeping it quiet and calm.
“Goodbye, Alwyn. Good luck,” Iefyr said once he was settled.
“Where will you go now?” he asked, frowning.
“Back home,” she said, shrugging. “I live in Menserine. My practice is there, too. I’ll rest in the city tonight and be there in just a few days more.”
“Safe travels, then. And thank you,” Alwyn said. She gave him one last soft smile before she left.
“Typically, I only offer rooms for patients,” Ferym said cautiously a moment later. “And I’m not sure if these rooms would be comfortable for you, Krujha...”
Krujha grimaced. “I’ll find somewhere nearby.”
Alwyn felt his heart plummet to the bottom of his stomach. No, he needed Krujha here, needed him nearby—he couldn’t stand the thought of being here alone.
“Please stay,” he blurted out, his eyes darting between the two of them.
“I’ll come first thing every morning,” Krujha said, smiling. “It’s just a place to sleep.”
“Please,” Alwyn repeated, his throat feeling tight. “I don’t want you to leave.”
Krujha’s face looked pained now. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ferym interrupted.
“I suppose I can make an exception, since I have no other patients in residence at the moment,” he said, though he still seemed apprehensive. Alwyn was too relieved to care. “You can have the room next door. The bed will be too small, but...”
“I can sleep on the floor,” Krujha said, chipper as ever.
In the evening, Krujha came to Alwyn’s room to keep him company; but as they talked, Alwyn thought he seemed pensive, his mind clearly elsewhere. Before, he might have just ignored it, letting Krujha bring up whatever it was of his own accord to avoid seeming too interested in the orc. Now there was no such pretense.
“Is something troubling you?” he asked; Krujha grimaced, glancing away, which was all but confirmation. He was sitting in a too-small chair next to Alwyn’s bed, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a long moment, eyes downcast. When he met Alwyn’s gaze again, he looked almost guilty.
“I have something I need to tell you,” he said, making Alwyn stiffen with nerves. What kind of bad news could Krujha have when they’d been in the city less than a day? “I don’t know exactly if this is what I think it might be, or… I don’t know. But that morning, back on the mountain, when I found you… It felt like all your magic went through me when you were turning it off. And I’ve had this feeling since then that I can’t really explain. I think maybe some of it might still be with me.”
Alwyn stared at him, his mind racing—this confession was the last thing he would have expected to hear. Was such a thing possible? He hadn’t heard of it, but neither had he heard of magical suppression like what the druid had done to him, which was clearly real.
“I remember,” he said faintly; Krujha’s words had sparked his memory, though most of his recollection of that morning was fuzzy. “It felt like everything was overflowing, but when you grabbed me, it was like your spark was a river that would lead out to the ocean. It drained everything away.”
Krujha nodded, managing a slight smile. “I don’t know about a river. But I think maybe you made my well a little deeper, if nothing else.”
Despite all his lingering confusion, Alwyn let out a faint, incredulous laugh. The thought of his magic being gone had been torturous—but if it was now with Krujha, instead of lost completely, that seemed like something he could live with.
“There are tests to gauge someone’s magical aptitude,” he said, his mind already racing. “I’m sure Ferym could take a look, too—”
To his surprise, Krujha shook his head quickly.
“No, no. We’re here to focus on your healing,” he said. “All of this can wait. It might turn out to be nothing, after all. I just… didn’t think it was right not to tell you, especially after hearing what Ferym said about your magic being wounded.”
Alwyn let out a slow breath. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Still, if Krujha had some magical ability now because of him, it was only right for him to be the one to foster it, to help Krujha grow his skill in whatever way he deemed best.
“You’re right. We don’t have to do anything now,” Alwyn agreed, and offered a small, placating smile. “But thank you for telling me. And I’d still like to at least teach you what I know when you’re ready, if that’s something you want to do.”
For a moment, Krujha only looked at him, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, a slow smile spread around his tusks.
