The next few hours became a blur to Tiral as some of the other knights (rather unceremoniously) loaded him onto a stretcher to drag to a wagon to make bringing him back home easier. Though marginally aware of that face, the annoying feeling of being half-paralyzed from the electricity from earlier refused to leave. With his muscles still somewhat locked up for a good chunk of the trip home, the mage was in no position to argue as the rest of the camp was cleaned up; with the prisoners rounded up without any further issue, he could at least let his mind rest at ease on that front.

"Ah... Well, who would've thought that I would've had to worry about friendly fire? That's some bad luck right there..."

With a bitter smile, Tiral tried his best to relax. With any luck, the aftereffects of the electricity would taper off after a while.

[hr]
As things turned out, that lightning was a [i]tad[/i] stronger than Tiral had anticipated. While sleeping the night away wasn't an issue (considering that his body was in a comfortable enough position to at least let him do that), attempting to move about the next morning was... Still not quite possible yet. Wincing as he attempted to move his arm even slightly, the mage opted not to attempt riding on his horse again, if only to prevent the possibility of a silly little accident (such as him locking up and falling off). With the risk of any such embarrassment at the forefront of his mind, Tiral remained lying down, quietly staring at the sky as the cart moved onward to town.

"Ah, well... Whatever. I'll just have to go learn some anti-magic wards in the future to not be left a talking corpse next time. To say nothing of our [i]actual[/i] talking corpse..."

The knights who were attending to the wagon, it seemed, had overheard him and given a light chuckle in return.

"Hey, hey! Just don't go stabbing yourself, all right? Seeing that spectacle once was MORE than enough!" one of them responded in turn, to which a bit more raucous laughter responded. Tiral attempted to bring his head up to see who what made the comment, but the state of his body once again forced him to just lie down and wait.

"Don't worry, I'm not [i]that[/i] crazy. The best madness is planned madness, after all."

As the chatting to lighten the mood continued on, Tiral continued to stare at the open blue sky. The nostalgic value of this scene was not lost on him; much of his childhood had been spent like this, after all...

[hr]
By the time the knights had returned to Candaeln, Tiral's body was at least able to function without the pain from earlier (though it wasn't as if it had fully faded away, annoyingly enough); slowly dragging himself out of the wagon, Tiral took the Captain's suggestion to heart and slowly made his way over to the infirmary for a quick checkup. The lack of injured meant that he was at least able to get looked over relatively quickly, and with everything diagnosed as predicted (and with the treatment being more or less 'suck it up'), Tiral sighed and began to walk out of the infirmary. At the very least, if he could get back to his room, then he could begin his work on some more preventative measures.
...
Well, at the very least, that's what he WOULD have done, had there not been someone arriving to deliver a message. Seeing that everyone else had seemingly decided that 'being able to relax' was not the same as 'shirking responsibility', Tiral massaged his forehead and went over to go greet the messenger... Well, without looking like he was in too much of a spot, at least.