Dalen held Terra's injured arm gently, lifting it up slowly and towards his eyes.

"Hmm...." murmured Dalen. The little noise Dalen made, though not loud enough to be heard outside the infirmary, elicited a weak, sleepy groan from Adell. The old man looked behind for a moment to smile at the demon, then turned back to face Terra with a straight face.

"A day or so will let you start using that arm again. But it'll probably only be able to do things like hold a cup of tea and such. Real combat might take almost a week of rest."

Dalen placed Terra's arm back in its original position. He frowned as he leaned forward on his chair, looking Terra in the eyes. "Healing you was a difficult thing to do. I'd have asked you for your assistance for a couple of... difficult things, except that I owed your guardian demon some favours."

His gaze softened, but his tone remained the same. "You don't get to my age without give and take, and you don't get to [i]his[/i] age without some sort of cruel streak. I'm not sure what he—"

Adell groaned loudly, and rolled over in his bed to face Dalen and Terra. His blank eyes opened up, and he pouted at the two. "Don't gossip about me when I'm trying to sleep here, Dalen."

The demon's pout changed into a smile. "Besides, you still need some assistance in some things, right?"

Dalen nodded. "The issue that I talked to you about 2 years ago still hasn't improved. It has gotten worse, in fact."

"Damned Enders. Sp̷iĺl͠ ̷the͜ir̨ blood f̷or̕e̷v̕er̶.̨" The strange thing about demonhood was that they came with their own sayings. Adell had no context to how they formed, but they came to his mind naturally when he turned.