[colour=D4E637][h3]Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc[/h3][hr]
[b]Interlude[/b][/colour]
[sub]Relouse Beach - Grand Armee Camp
Seen & Mentioned: Talit'yrash'osmax[/sub]

Lyen hadn't rested.  Since the Eskandr had begun their retreat, there had been no end to the need of helping hands.  Tasks she'd scoffed at days before became her sole focus; tending to the wounded, except now most were crying out in true desperation and fear of death instead of pain. She quickly fell in with a contingent of nuns and monks of the Dordian order as they worked together to reduce the ever rising casualties. She'd been on the walls when the retreat started and by sunset Lyen had healed her way to the beach-head.

The constant repetitive binding of injuries brought to mind of the monotonous yet unceasing trails Byln had her preform in the beginning of her apprenticeship. Corpses dissolved and tissue regrew under her touch. Eskandr, Perrench, Drugunzean, ally, foe, her exhaustion eventually didn't allow for careful enough inspection of each body she laid hands upon.  Each time she closed her eyes Byln's voice rang through her head.  Directing her with gentle authority until the healing process became almost autonomous. [i]Bind, soothe, mend, don't waste material.[/i].  The last one wasn't of much concern; there was no shortage.  For every time she stopped at a gasping, grasping survivor two dozen more corpses lay dead.  It was a devastation unlike anything she'd ever seen, and more upsetting than she'd anticipated. But she was old enough to temper and focus her emotions:  So she continued to work, movements methodical, mind in a trance, until a hand on her shoulder pulled her from it.

"Didn't think you'd still be here."
The voice was distant as Lyen's eyes immediately focused on the food in its barer hands.  Stew and hot bread.  She stood too quickly and all the soreness of the day she'd managed to suppress came to her at once:  Her skin was taunt and burnt, bones aching, and mind bleary.  The bowl was placed into her hands and she began to eat. It was only after her bread was finished that she noticed it was a Dordian monk that was standing before her, an expectant expression on his face.

[colour=D4E637]"Thank you."[/colour] She said, lowering the bowl.  

He brushed her gratitude away "Have you met with Lady Talit?" His tone was that of patient repetition.  Lyen shook her head.  "There was a meeting among the Yasoi, she was looking for you."


[hr]

It was in the remains of the grand amree camp that she found Talit and was and informed of their new assignment in Loriindton. There was still so much to be done where they already were, healing, repairs, even the forest was a flooded smoldering mess. Not to mention the political turmoil that would come from their scraping victory.  The war was only beginning and she was being sent to some outlier Yasoi village. But Talit's face gave waste to any argument Lyen had before she voiced it. The younger Yasoi was tired too, her face far away in other worries.  Lyen owed her co-opperation in this at least.  Remembrance of the new debt made her grimace. What would it take to replay a life twice over? [colour=D4E637]"I'll be ready by morning."[/colour]

Her tent was relatively unharmed next to the rest of the destruction Thorunn's rampage had caused the camp.  Lyen stepped over the spilled and broken items towards the smallish chest laying beside her bed-mat. Only a few of her jarred preservation pieces had survived; but those would be the easiest to replace in these circumstances anyways.  Opening with what little magic her body was still willing to use, the blood-locked seal opened allowing her to lift its lid.  Inside lay the most prized items of her small horde; a forced compromise for any traveling Yasoi.  What started as a quick inspection to start the packing process quickly became an exercise of indulgence in happy memories. Even her exhaustion was forgotten, and the endless death that had hung so heavy all day seemed miles away. Each item was returned to the chest along with whatever surviving items in the tent fit.  After re-applying the blood-seal she fell to the mat she'd always found painfully uncomfortable, and was asleep before her head touched the pillow. 
[hider=summary]
- the battle ends
- Lyen does some healing and clean-up before leaving for Loriindton[/hider]