Alchimia Rex

First tenet of the healer’s creed: Human life must be protected.

Second tenet of the healer’s creed: Do not operate on the human you are bonded to. Panic would cloud judgment.

Assessment: A hundred thirty-five lacerations, blood-energy poisoning within the injuries on the right leg and left arm, four fractured ribs, right wrist crushed, three severed veins, one punctured artery. Building tension pneumothorax. Severe loss of blood. Tachycardia. Hypotension. And the list only grew from there.

Existing precautions: The patient has severely low tolerance for elemental energy.

Expected time of death: two minutes.

Dia needed a team of three.

She was alone; there was no help.

Fear trickled at the back of her head. The Rapha submerged her mind deeper into the tranquility of her aura. There was no time to hesitate, to think. Combat healing protocol dictated Rick was a lost cause, not enough resources to treat the patient, no possibility to get him to a medical center. And she was in hostile territory.

Dia threw the protocol out and focused on the procedure.

Her blood-stained hands were shaking. She pushed deeper into the calmness, into the stillness.

First step is decontamination.

The Rapha spread her aura to lay claim over the area and the patient. To protect him and herself from germs, stray particles, and potentially errant energy. Most importantly, it bolstered the patient’s body to begin the healing process sooner. It would increase scarring, but that was a concern for a future she wasn’t sure he’d survive to see.

Dia placed a tourniquet on the patient’s right biceps and within the following second, moved to puncture through the chest to relieve the buildup of air.

It bought time.

Expected time of death: four minutes.

Dia shot a quick burst of healing energy into the broken ribs to splint them and ensure they wouldn’t keep pushing through the patient’s lung. She’d need to break them and put them back properly once this was over.

Rick immediately groaned and tensed, the veins within his chest palpitated with a deep blue glow.

Dia grimaced. She could sense the energy searing into the flesh even while the ribs mended just enough. They would not wobble with every breath. The healer turned to the punctured artery. It was right below the left shoulder. A tourniquet wouldn’t help. Dia pushed a minimal amount of elemental energy, as little as she could get away with, so it would clot.

It didn’t.

The blood-energy contaminating it flared out, and the puncture widened. More blood poured out.

Dia swallowed her gasp. She needed to-.

A scream and a sense of danger washed over her. Dia’s instincts lashed out, something deep and primal, not part of her training, something that warned her of extreme danger. The Rapha spared the attention from Rick and saw the Orc breaking through the weakened defensive line and charging.

Straight at her.

“Attack the flank!” Dia commanded. No time to consider whether it was followed or not, whether or not she was about to die.

She snapped back down to her patient. That had wasted two seconds. Her hands moved, applying pressure to the arterial wound with a cloth, mind racing. Two minutes to death, she had to find a solution.

The best solution would involve three or more healers.

She was alone.

"Focus on the positive." She prayed under her breath.

The lacerated vein on his thigh wasn’t contaminated. She switched targets, keeping pressure on the bleeding artery with one hand while using the other to reach out. Carefully, careful, slowly, she kept the healing low and slow, gritting her teeth and feeling the sweat drenching her back.

His timer was remaining in two minutes, his blood-pressure still dropping. Every bit she closed from his leg was time lost, not closing the artery. She was moving too slowly. The blood-energy contamination was spreading. She couldn’t trust a simple clot would prevent further bleeding.

The lacerations on his chest and arms were opening up again. The blood-energy was spreading. It was a poison in his system, dispersing, removing the clots. Dia didn’t bother trying to close them; the instant she did the energy would react and it would get worse.

Dia pulled out the healing tool, her trusty scalpel.

Prioritize. Blood-loss would kill him first. She had to stop all the bleeding. Rick’s pulse was weakening, heart-rate rising, pressure dropping further. One minute thirty before he went to the point of no return.

Dia was whirled around, a scrawny hand on her shoulder yanking her away from Rick as she screamed bloody murder. A snarling face and a raised arm, green skin, a Maiden? A Goblin. Alarm, fear, Rick was going to die. Dia sank further into her aura, her scalpel lashed out at the Goblin’s face. Two stabs in the throat, one in the eye. She twisted back to Rick, disinfecting her tool with a gesture, blood and gore flaking to the ground.

Five seconds wasted. She would not make it.

The approach was wrong.

Healing would cause the blood-energy to lash out. And it already made clotting in the areas near impossible. She dispelled the healing. Her scalpel vibrated as heat built up at its edge. Ten seconds and it glowed red. She moved carefully, unblinking, ignoring the sting in her eyes. The heat sizzled and cauterized the injuries shut.

Dia flinched at the sight of it, too aware this would push towards even more scarring. But was there any other way to save him? To at least buy him seconds of life?

She was alone; there was no backup.

Every seared injury stopped a little more of the bleeding, but allowed the poison to move elsewhere. It bought him seconds. Seconds that were going to run out if she didn’t put them to better use. Dia didn’t have a plan; she didn’t have a way. She increased how much power she put into the cauterization, attacking the parts of him that had yet to be contaminated.

Expected time of death: one minute.

Cauterization was too slow. She’d have to brute-force healing through his whole system.

Her own energy was going to kill him.

She had to save him.

She was going to kill him.

But it would kill him more slowly than the hemorrhaging.

Dia formed the spell’s structure and charged it with the elemental stillness of her aura before altering the energy at the tip of her scalpel from dulled heat to a sharp needle. She began making incisions into the wounds. She couldn’t let her hands shake. Each tiny little prickle into Rick’s body left behind a thread of power, drawing a crisscross of her power that would lead to the next point.

The Rapha poured her healing through the thread, pulling on it and imbuing it into his flesh, willing it to stop bleeding and begin mending itself. The blood-energy contaminants pushed the bleeding into overdrive, and Dia redoubled, ignoring the sting of tears in her eyes. Her energy pushed against the poison, patching the injuries faster than they had formed, expending the blood-energy.

Rick’s body convulsed. Veins glowed a dim green under his skin, and as his blood circulated into his lungs and through his heart, it spread through the arteries. This was too fast, too soon. He should have been able to take more.

Was he too weakened? But Dia didn’t stop; she didn’t stop because it was working.

Expected time of death: two minutes.

The Rapha was saving him and dooming him at the same time. The notion tore at her chest. Fear and panic relentlessly hammering against her aura, against herself. Killing him to save him.

It was the only way.

Dia didn’t relent, continuing to thread her energy through his body, cutting it off exactly where the wounds had run out of blood-energy contaminants and finally clogged. Only then moving on to the rest.

Blood pressure… stable.

Rick was breathing, pale, trembling, shaking. Alive, but not for long. His temperature was rapidly rising into a fever. The remaining blood-energy wasn't opening any more wounds, but it wasn’t gone, and it still posed a major threat.

Because it was corroding the muscles of his heart.

Expected time of death: four minutes.

The only way for the average human to be poisoned by healing energy in a single session would be if a dozen maidens were pouring their everything into the patient at the same time. There were spells for such rare occasions, meant to drain away high amounts of excess power. But the few she’d learnt were not meant for situations like this. They could barely work when there was just so little energy within the patient.

Rick’s body was entering the first stages of an elemental overdose. The very methods she could use to prolong his life would only make the problem worse.

Dia pulled her calmness more tightly. There had to be an alternative.

If she didn’t have the answer, then she had to look for one outside.

Her hands followed the motions through experience alone, her thoughts broadened. What nearby breeds could help her? Orcs, Goblins, and Hobgoblins were not healers. None had the abilities she needed. Politas? Healers, but not through direct energy application, too slow. She lifted her gaze from Rick's body, looking around and wiping the sweat off of her forehead. Who else? Fledglings were discarded, they needed to take blood to absorb elemental energy, and Rick had very little of it to provide. The few others she could spot weren't healers either.

Dia’s thoughts stuttered when she realized that the fighting had ground to a halt. Something had happened. The maidens were breathing, but relatively sluggish or immobile. Bruises were present on nearly every visible surface. The Orcs looked better off than the rest, at least in that they could move, but it was a rough state. Many of the weaker maidens were also bleeding from their noses.

She barely suppressed the instinct to seek a way to help. Everything was derailed within her mind, trying to make sense of what was going on, of what had happened. Of how she could save her patient.

There was no more fighting.

The attackers had left, or died, or whatever. It wasn’t important.

From all around the camp, Dia could hear wails and cries. She saw several of the maidens carrying humans with them. They were enemy maidens, not wearing the cloth around the wrist that would signal who it was that led them.

But against her better judgment, Dia's attention shifted to the humans themselves.

They were barely alive, humans that were bleeding out of their ears and noses. The diagnosis was immediate, a wide-area attack in some form, internal bleeding from ruptured blood vessels. Whatever had happened had only affected the camp itself, some areas far worse than others. Her group had left their humans outside of camp, safe by all signs. No doubt it was the only reason the maidens on their "team" weren’t desperately racing back in search of their bond-partners.

Why had Rick not been affected? Why hadn’t Dia? She hesitated, wondered whether it had something to do with locking them both under her aura, or the overcharge of healing energy currently killing Rick that she had no solution for.

Dia couldn't afford these questions. She could save the humans here, though. Some of them wouldn’t make it if she didn’t help. It would be a simple procedure. The maidens would almost assuredly survive on their own.

First tenet of the healer’s creed: Human life must be protected.

Rick was dying.

First tenet of the healer’s creed: Human life must be protected.

But Rick was dying.

Expected time of death: two minutes, two seconds.

Her efforts were barely keeping the clock at a stand-still. Dia pulled herself out of her forced apathy and calmness. Rick was dying, her human was dying. The fear was a dagger through her heart. She would not let herself fail. Adrenaline fueled thoughts raced, desperate.

What could solve this? How could she drain…?

The answer came to her in a flash, and her chest filled with fire and rage at the very thought of the name. There was one maiden that specialized in absorbing elemental energy that didn’t rely on sucking their victim’s blood. And a part of Dia wished she was dead, that Monica had gotten to her and that there would be nothing but a bloody stain on the ground.

But Rick was dying.

It was his only hope.

“To everyone whose human is dying! To anyone who can still move!” Dia screamed as loudly as she could. “I am a healer. If you want that help, bring me the Succubus alive!” Her gut clenched in disgust, her eyes hard and unwavering. “If you do not do so within the next two minutes, if my human dies. I will save no one!”

A healer.

A healer threatening to allow humans to die for her own selfish reasons. She was just as bad as the charmer. The Succubus that had taken her human, kidnapped him, left them for dead. Dia’s lips curled, shaking her head. No, no! These humans had betrayed the kingdom... right? They were traitors. It was the one thing that made the bitter taste easier to swallow.

The Rapha returned her focus to Rick. There was less and less she could do for him while her own elemental energy was still running rampant within his body. Her meager attempts to drain the excess were pitiful, like trying to empty a large puddle by dipping her fingers into it and drying them against her shirt.

The only way to mitigate it was to push the energy within him so that it would provide some minor relief in the worst afflicted areas.

It was palliation.

Expected time of death: two minutes.

That clock was so close. And every second of the delay she bought was at the cost of putting him in a worse condition. Kidneys were bordering on full failure. Arteries were stiffening. Liver was collapsing in on itself. A thousand deaths that would kill him within hours, days, or weeks.

But that bought seconds.

Expected time of death: two minutes, one second.

Dia’s hands were shaking now. She couldn’t stop them. Her arms burned from the tension of the precise work. Heal just enough, extract whatever she could, push energy just enough. Target the parts that can take the punishment.

Kill him just a little more so that he may live just another second.

Rick’s fever was still rising. But that would kill him in an hour.

Would she last long enough?

Would it matter?

Expected time of death: two minutes.

Even unconscious, he groaned and shifted, jaw clenching, body drenched in sweat, shivering, fighting itself as it approached the second stage of elemental poisoning. There were other humans she could be saving. Every minute was a potential human life lost.

If she just let go… if she just… stopped buying Rick seconds…

The thud snapped her out of the thoughts spiralling downwards. It nearly broke her from her work entirely. All around her was screaming and chaos. Fights were breaking out, enemies and allied Orcs lashing out at one another. All seeking to be at the front of the line.

And right in front of her was Kiara, unconscious. The Succubus held a familiar Fledgling tightly in her arms, the two of them looked like they’d been close to the center of whatever had happened, there was not an inch of them that wasn’t bruised, ears, eyes, nose, mouth, all bleeding. They were alive, but while the Succubus was mostly just unconscious and battered all over, the Fledgling's breathing was shallow.

Dia’s stomach dropped.

Rick’s body was rocking, the green glow of the energy overdose was creeping all over, it was visible as spiderwebs of light.

No time.

Prioritize.

Her hand removed itself from Rick.

The clock she'd been fighting to stop ticked down.

“Stand back!” She did not care if anyone listened, bringing the scalpel down to Kiara’s throat, right on top of the internal carotid artery. Every part of her wanted to just slash through it. This was the charmer’s fault. Everything had gone wrong because of her. She’d kidnapped Rick, taken him from them, put him in chains, made him a slave. What sort of abuse had she put him through? Sleepless nights imagining the terrible things the Succubus had been doing to him: rape, beatings...

Dia used everything she knew and had to sharpen the blade, and pushed. And pushed. And pushed. But the damn Succubus’ skin was tough, tougher than stone. Why would the breed be made with bodies that were harder even than an Orc’s? Maidens had been created, but who would ever see sense in this nigh impenetrable skin?

But she pushed through, pierced and drew blood.

There was no time for finesse or control. No spell for a full healing or anything close to it. Kiara would have to make do with what shreds of charity she'd be given, and Dia was just fine with that. The Rapha poured a burst of her power through the tip of the scalpel as she could, right into the Succubus’ blood-stream, right towards her brain.

The reaction was immediate. The hateful bitch's eyes snapped open with a gasp.

“If you move, you die.” Dia hissed down at the Succubus, feeling her heightened pulse, seeing her wide eyes, practically tasting the adrenaline. “You will drain Rick. Focus on the area around his heart. Or he will die.”

The maiden didn’t retort, didn’t even hesitate. Kiara did not wait for Dia to remove the scalpel before reaching out to Rick with a trembling and bruised hand. It was clear the bond pushed the Succubus to comply, to save their bonded partner.

“Save the leech,” the Succubus croaked, unconcerned for the blade that could end her there and then.

Dia did not deign to answer. The words could be a distraction, a trick. She couldn't afford to look away from Rick and the work Kiara was doing. She remained exactly where she was, holding the scalpel with one hand while the other kept contact with the patient, monitoring his every vital.

“He’s still hurt.” The Succubus muttered through heavy grunts. “You… what did you do to him?”

“Buy time.” Dia grit her teeth.

The energy surrounding his heart was being drained. But it was careful, and it was faster than anything Dia would've been able to do. "I can't be precise about this."

Right, because charmers needed their victims to be in certain states of mind to more easily drain their energy. "Don't stop." Kiara's discomfort was of no concern to the healer. So long as it got the job done, it would be enough. Yet as she watched the Succubus' work, there was something about it that drew an edge of concern within Dia.

The work was precise in a practised way, it almost carried an edge of finesse to the way Kiara could pull the energy out without having it damage the flesh along the way.

“You’ve done this before.”

Kiara let out a weak huff. “Second time on him, too.”

Expected time of death: five minutes.

Dia let out a minuscule breath of relief. This was not over, but it was better. “I am going to heal his lungs. Wait for my signal before draining the area.”

That was as much warning as she would give. And she clearly had no need to specify further. As soon as the energy had done its work, it was gone. The ribs were snapped and put properly in place, healing to ensure they would hold, then moving to the next part. Many things she would need to address in the coming days, but for now they'd remain half-healed instead.

“When I untie the tourniquet on his arm, I-”

“Save my human!”

The voice was sharp, loud, and came with a tumultuous outcry from the maidens that had brought Kiara. The line of Orcs holding the perimeter kept their weapons brandished, intent on fighting, even though they were leaning on one another and grimacing the entire way.

“Your humans can wait,” the Rapha said, eyes hard.

“Softie.” Kiara croaked the word out, her chuckle turning into a cough. “Leech comes after Rick.”

Dia glanced at the Succubus, frowning. “You will not run away?”

“You want to kill me.” She smirked as she spoke, lips trembling through the pain of the bruises. “But you won’t.”

The Rapha tightened the scalpel’s pressure, growling. “And what makes you think that?”

“You’ve never felt a bond-partner die.” Kiara's voice was full of bitterness. “Any of us die? The shock of the bond's feedback could kill him as he is now.” Her leg weakly kicked out at Eva, the maiden entirely not responsive. “The leech needs more blood. Her regeneration stopped.”

Dia startled.

Had Kiara been tracking the other member of their group while working on Rick? She scowled, trying to focus on the original claim, to not let herself be tricked. What did she know for sure? She'd read much of how a bond breaking could be a traumatic experience. But many of her teachers had expressed doubts about whether it was because of the emotional loss or the actual weight of the shattering bond. Maidens snapped the bond every time they removed their collars. How traumatic could the experience be?

And yet, some part of her couldn’t help but agree with the idea of the potential threat to Rick’s health. A simple snapping of the bond was different to the bond-partner dying. There was too much room for unknowns.

Expected time of death: fifteen minutes.

His body was shutting down. But with the Succubus draining away the excess, it meant she could force his organs to work properly. It meant she could ensure he’d survive. But there was no way he could tolerate further shock to his system.

Dia turned to the Orcs that wore a cloth around their wrists. “Find me chains, make sure the Succubus can’t escape.” She gestured at Eva. “And make sure that one gets some blood.”

“I will not feed that blood-sucker.” The maiden spat on the ground.

“Then make one of the losers do it.” She snapped back with a growl. “Put a cloth on the leech’s mouth and drip the blood into it if you have to.” She gestured at Rick. “If this man dies, Monica will go on a rampage. And I will do everything in my power to make sure she knows it was your fault.”

That proved to be enough. The gathered maidens moved in a rush. Dia also organized the “losers”, informing them on how and where to place the humans, and how to provide basic first aid.

“Don’t you have any healers? Where are the Politas?”

“They were near the fight, they were hit very hard. Most aren't even conscious.” Someone else reported.

“Then bring them here.” Saving a healer saved more lives.

Nearby, one of the “enemy” Orcs was made to kneel and had one of her fingers cut off, the spill of blood falling on the bundles of cloth that were to be used to drip-feed the Fledgling. The sound of Kiara’s laugh grated against Dia’s nerves. The Rapha glared at the Succubus.

“So that’s how you got them to obey you, used the cat to beat up everyone who disagreed. Well done.”

“Shut up.”

“If you…” She stopped, her hand tensed. “Where’s the Ghoul?”

Dia hesitated. “If she’s still around, I have not been told about it.”

“The Ghoul marked Rick.” Kiara said. “The mark is damaged. I can remove what’s left, but not while sucking up your healing gunk.”

Expected time of death: thirty-two minutes.

The nurse had almost pulled away from him to have the Succubus remove the mark. “Keep sucking that 'gunk'.”

“But-.”

“I will not repeat myself.” She kept the scalpel on the maiden’s throat. “I’ll confirm if there are any curses on him once you're chained.”

“If Monica kills that Ghoul, or she gets too far away…”

She had a point. Dia hated she had a point. But she would not trust the charmer. “If the Ghoul had left or died, Rick would be dead by now. I lose nothing if you're lying. If you’re telling the truth, then the Ghoul was caught up in the blast and is half-dead somewhere nearby and will be captured.” Dia lowered herself so they could meet eye to eye. “You can’t stop helping Rick or he dies.” The nurse intoned coldly. “You can’t fight or Rick dies. You will surrender and allow yourself to be captured.”

The Succubus’ eyes flared with power, and for a moment, it looked like she would do something about it. Dia kept her grip on the scalpel with whitened knuckles. The two maidens glared at one another.

"You will never take him from me." The words came out of Dia's lips with a poisonous edge. "When he wakes up, he might even feel lenient enough to let you go rather than have you killed."

The glare remained steady. “You do not want to make me your enemy.”

“Or you will what? Take Rick from us again? Kill me?”

“No.” Golden eyes stared straight into and through Dia.

The healer felt a twinge of hesitation. "Then what?"

Kiara did not answer, merely turning her attention back to Rick's unconscious form. The Succubus did not put any opposition, silently keeping her work of draining the energy and waiting for Dia to confirm there was a mark on him. True to her word, the Rapha waited until Kiara was restrained before she stopped the healing to confirm.

It was a simple thing to do, though it took several minutes. Blood-curses were rare, but not unheard of. There were a couple of Vampire strongholds near the edges of the kingdom, after all. Their most dangerous feature was how they hid within the victim's circulatory system, shuffling around the body in wait for activation.

As Kiara had claimed, the mark was weak. It'd been applied several days ago, and the blood-loss had only weakened it further. But even as weak as it was, Rick would not survive its triggering. “Remove the mark.” Dia commanded, holding the scalpel tightly while watching how the Succubus dismantled the curse.

The way the maiden attacked the affliction with aberrant energy, twisting it into itself so that it broke like a chain that'd been deformed beyond use... Dia shuddered to think the level of control that'd be needed for someone to do such a thing. It was at times like these that she was reminded the Succubus was hundreds of years old.

If there was a single maiden in this camp that could pose a genuine threat to her, it was the Sabertooth.

"Does anyone know where the chief is? Monica? Or the Ghoul?"

“There is no need.”

Dia's question was answered with a deep rumble.

An Orc taller than any Dia had ever seen stepped through the defensive line of maidens. The others parted from her way without so much as a complaint. The green giant was as tall as Monica, and her presence alone posed a threat. Dia hesitated, glancing from the newcomer to the others, and then back.

She spoke carefully, shifting so that she'd be between Rick and this massive Orc.

“Who are you?”

"Urtha, former chief." The maiden dropped to the dirt, sitting with a heavy thud and placing the giant metal club next to her. "So that is the human bonded to the new chief?"

The words sent a wave of relief through the others, though Dia did not relax a hair. "And where is Monica?"

"Hunting the survivors with the others. Said she'd tear my head off if I hurt her human. I believe her." Urtha chuckled in amusement. "The Ghoul and the Vampire... do you know anything?"

"They escaped." Kiara spoke through gritted teeth. "The Ghoul took her owner out of the ritual before it blew up. Zagan had more sense out of the two."

"True."

The Succubus and Orc knew each other.

Dia was sure she'd grit her teeth into a fine powder if she let this get to her. "If you do not need healing, then get out of the way."

Urtha frowned. "You don't get to say what I do."

The healer took a moment, glancing at Rick, confirming his situation. Much work, but ample time now. The Rapha stood up, so that her eyes were level with those of the sitting Orc.

"I am Monica's second in command." She breathed in slowly. "But more importantly, I am the one that can save your humans. This is my operation room, and if you do not need healing, you will leave. Now."

Those words made the crowd tense. Every maiden who'd brought someone injured stopped, and turned. All eyes were on Urtha. The brute might be stronger than Dia, but she was not stronger than everyone who needed Dia combined. They all knew it. And the Orc, for all her massive size and brutish looks, clearly understood this too.

"Very well." There wasn't any aggression, merely acknowledgement and an edge of amusement. The maiden stood up. "Before I leave, I have a question." Urtha made a gesture at Rick with a slight raise of her chin. "What sort of male is he?"

Dia didn't need to think twice. "Mine."

Urtha chuckled. "The new chief said the same thing."

The Orc walked away, trailed by the gazes of every other maiden there.

Only when she was gone did the crowd relax.

"Bring the Politas here, and anyone who might know how to dress a wound." Dia called out to the crowd, pointing at the space nearby. "Leave your humans there, and get moving."

There was too much work to be done.

She just had to ignore Kiara's smug smirk.