Elva raised her brow at him, but she obliged, gesturing for her attendants to step back. 
Kire’s breathing was panicked, rapid, her eyes on Ruli without seeing him. Then a whisper echoed in her mind, somehow louder than the frantic, confused thoughts that screamed inside her. A familiar voice. [i]Ruli?[/i] Her erratic breathing slowed as he continued to ‘speak’, and soon her breathing mimicked the pace of his. “Ruli?” she rasped after a long pause, her mind still trying to catch up. Though she had calmed down, his presence still confused her. She closed her eyes, brow furrowed, and her left hand reached up to touch his against her cheek, the warmth of it making his presence more real, grounding her. Behind them, Elva breathed a sigh of relief. 

After a few more moments, Kire opened her eyes again. “I’m at Elva’s,” she repeated, voice still small, as if assuring herself. “But—how are you here? How did we get here?” she said, looking up at him. Then her brow furrowed. “Why does my arm hurt?” She lifted her right hand, or tried to. It shook, and when she touched it with her other hand she felt gauze on her skin. 
“Kire,” Elva said gently, stepping close this time, “you were in the middle of a battle. You brought Ruli there, and he brought you here.” She looked up at him to confirm that last statement before looking back down at her cousin. “Do you remember?”
“The battle—Narda!” Kire made another attempt to sit up quickly, but Elva put a hand to her chest. 
“I’ll help you sit up if you promise not to try taking off immediately and getting yourself killed. And you need the burn to heal a bit more before you start swinging a sword with that arm. We both know you’re shit with your left.” Elva smirked, trying to get her to calm down with her quip. “Please, Kire.” 

[i]Please,[/i] she said. When Elva wasn’t butting heads with her, she was being serious. Kire nodded. “Promise,” she murmured, and she slowly sat up with Elva helping her. 
Now that she was upright, Kire looked down at her right arm and grimaced. The healers hadn’t finished wrapping dry gauze on the whole burn yet. She touched it gingerly, hissed softly. “What’s another scar, right,” she muttered, before looking up at them. “I-I think—no, I did. I had to use it. There were…” her voice trailed off as she tried to piece together what had happened immediately before she lost consciousness. “Monsters on the field. And—fire. Explosions.” 
“Good gods,” Elva muttered, her hand pressed over her mouth. 
“I had to get Narda and my men out,” Kire said, her left hand closing into a fist. “I think I did. Sent them back away from the thick of it. But the fire made me panic. And I got knocked back into a portal. I thought—” she turned to Ruli, trying to think through the hazy memory, “—I—I didn’t mean to.” [i]My last thought…[/i] 

Elva shook her head. “Don’t use your Ring yet, alright? I’m sorry,” she turned to Ruli, “she might not be able to return you immediately.” 
Kire didn’t object. She felt weakened, or rather, she felt afraid that something else would go wrong if she pulled power from the Ring again this soon. She’d be useless on the field now, even as every part of her wanted to go back to make sure Ed and Narda were okay. That their forces were holding their own, and that what had happened prior had just been a last-ditch effort of the enemy to throw whatever foul tricks they had left to buy time.