Nyx
Below deck, the infirmary was thick with tension, the sharp scent of herbs and salt lingering in the damp air. The Wraith creaked under the soft sway of the ocean, but the quiet below was anything but peaceful.
Juno and Alric hovered over Raiden's battered form, their voices crackling through the confined space like musket fire.
Before fate had thrown them together aboard the Wraith, before their sharp tongues had clashed over surgical techniques and the ethics of poisoning one's enemies, Juno and Alric had crossed paths under far different circumstances, mending someone neither could afford to let die. It had been years ago, in a shadowed backroom of a grand estate, hidden behind velvet curtains and the weight of whispered secrets. The patient—a nobleman of considerable importance, bleeding out from a wound that should have been fatal—lay before them, a man too valuable to lose and too powerful to let suffer. Neither Juno nor Alric had spoken much that night, both consumed by the task at hand, their skills stretched to their limits as they fought against time. Juno had been the first to take charge, her hands steady as she assessed the wound, her mind already calculating which of her herbal concoctions could keep him from slipping into shock. She had been prepared for resistance, for hesitation, for the usual noble-trained skepticism. What she had not expected was Alric—who, instead of questioning her methods, had seamlessly matched her pace, working alongside her with an efficiency that surprised her. He had adjusted the noble's position with practiced ease, administering a controlled dose of a sedative Juno recognized all too well—a rare blend, reserved for royalty and those high enough in standing to secure such luxuries. She had studied him in that moment, taking in the way he moved, the certainty in his hands, the faint gleam of amusement in his emerald green eyes even as they hovered over a dying man. The noble had survived. Neither Juno nor Alric had asked for explanations that night, nor had they questioned why a man of such status had ended up bleeding out in secrecy instead of surrounded by royal physicians. They had simply done what needed to be done. Alric had grinned. Juno had smirked. And they had parted ways, knowing full well that the next time they met, it wouldn't be under ordinary circumstances.
Now, aboard the Abyssal Wraith, with Raiden's broken body between them, they were once again faced with a man they couldn't afford to lose. And though years had passed since that fateful night, the understanding remained. They could fight. They could bicker. They could threaten to throw each other overboard. But when it came to saving lives, they moved as one.
"Look at him—ribs shattered, leg mangled, half-drowned, barely clinging to consciousness—and you want to dab a cloth on his forehead?" Juno scoffed, waving a hand at Alric in mock disbelief. "How delightfully royal of you. Shall we bring him a silk pillow next?"
Alric, unbothered, flipped through his medical tome with deliberate calm. "I was stabilizing his temperature first, Farren, before I let you dose him with your 'experimental tinctures' that may or may not include something that once poisoned a duke."
Juno smirked, stirring the thick mixture in a wooden bowl with practiced ease. "Oh, that was a misunderstanding. He lived. Mostly."
Alric shot her with a sharp glance. "A miracle, I'm sure."
Nyx, watching the bickering unfold from across the room, exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose. She'd spent the last few nights sitting beside Raiden as he drifted in and out of consciousness, watching his body fight against the wreckage of his past life. Now, hearing these two squabble over him like rival chefs arguing over the best way to cook a ruined meal, she was rapidly losing patience.
"Enough," Nyx said, her voice slicing through their argument. "You're both supposed to be brilliant. Act like it."
Juno huffed, pressing a hand against Raiden's ribs to gauge his body's resistance. He let out a low groan even in his unconscious state, and she muttered, "Lovely. He's going to feel every single one of these breaks when he wakes up."
Alric rolled his eyes and leaned over the cot, prodding Raiden's swollen leg. "And this mess? If it doesn't set properly, he won't be walking, much less charming his way through another reckless adventure."
Juno snorted. "Pity. I was looking forward to seeing him crawl."
Nyx shot her a look, but Juno only shrugged.
Alric closed his book with a loud thump and crossed his arms. "If you insist on treating him like one of your assassins who needs patching up before their next kill, be my guest. But if you actually want him to heal, we do this my way."
Juno raised an eyebrow, her brown eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Oh, your way? What, dunk him in boiled wine and say a prayer?"
Alric smirked. "That method saved a king once."
Juno tapped her chin thoughtfully. "And got another poisoned. I like those odds."
Nyx had had enough. "You're both insufferable," she muttered, stepping forward. "Fix him. I don't care how. I want answers when he wakes up, and I want his damn leg working."
Juno and Alric exchanged glances; their rivalry momentarily set aside at their captain's sharp command.
Juno clapped her hands together. "Alright. We do this together. I'll handle the tinctures and clean the wounds; you make sure his bones don't snap further."
Alric sighed theatrically. "A compromise, then. Fine. But if he wakes up screaming, I'm blaming you."
Juno grinned as she dipped a rag into the mixture. "Oh, I hope he wakes up screaming. Otherwise, what's the fun in being a healer?"
Nyx groaned, running a hand through her damp curls. "If you two kill him before I get answers, I'm throwing you both into the ocean."
Juno smirked at Alric. "See? That's how you administer proper treatment. Fear-based motivation."
Alric chuckled. "Remind me never to get injured under your care."
With that, the two medics finally got to work, their banter settling into an almost synchronized rhythm as they patched Raiden together. Nyx remained at the doorway, watching them work, her gaze briefly flickering to the man at the center of their battle. He had survived the wrath of the sea, but what came next—what all of them would face—was far from decided.