"Will he be OK!?" a voice all but yelled. Jem?
"Yes, calm yourself!" another voice replied.
"Puck is right," Kiara - from the sound of it - said. "The wound is deep, but it missed anything vital. Blood loss was minimal thanks to you, too."
Light came into view, illuminating the world around Griever. He was no longer on the battlefield. Stone ceiling placed him in the castle, surrounded by Kiara, a red-eyed Jem, and some odd looking boy he thought was Puck. Around them, people moved between others laying on the ground in the large ballroom.
"He's awake," Kiara said, looking relieved.
"Did.." Griever coughed, feeling pain in his abdomen. "Did we win?"
Jem nodded. "They fled as soon as their king died." She stood up. "I'm going to check on the others. I'll see you later, Griever."
After Jem had left, Kiara laughed. "Don't read too much into that. She stuck by your side the entire time."
Griever laughed, though it hurt. "Well, I'm just glad it all turned out well." He saw Dreda, Rowan, and a few others he recognized, but many more he noted were dead, laying on the ground with white sheets covering them. This battle had been costly.
Puck turned to Kiara. "I wish to talk to him alone, if you will?"
Kiara seemed to study the fae, but nodded and left. "Don't move too much, Griever, or I won't stitch you back up again."
"Now," Puck said slowly, "I need to talk to you about your sword... and your purpose."
Griever nodded from his spot on the floor. "Is this about that prophecy crap?"
"It's not crap!" Puck shot back. "It saved your life. YOu should be thankful Jem was there. Had she not been, then we would be in the bellies of some hungry kin of mine."
"Why help us?"
Puck stared at him hard. "It's my purpose. Now, I need you to leave your sword-"
"Already planned on leaving it here," Greiver interrupted. "It'll be useful if your kin ever decide to return under another king." After all, Azrali sounded like he wasn't the only king.
"Good." Without another word, Puck left Griever to his thoughts.
So, before anyone else could stop him, Griever stood and made his way outside. He would be lying if he said it didn't hurt to move - each step was agony to his side. He knew how Kate must have felt now, not being able to walk without hurting.
He found the battlefield as he expected it: littered with bodies of fae, Hawks, and lots of soldiers from both the Sheriff's and Marshall's forces. People moved about, mostly villagers, to find any who might live and kill or help them depending on who or what they were.
Griever just sighed and took a seat against the wall. "Beasts, that hurts," he muttered.
"Then you shouldn't be out here, fool," a voice said from the doorway.
Jem looked her best, despite her messy hair that had been left to fall loosely and torn clothing revealing some of her lower legs and stomach. Closed cuts covered the exposed skin, but nothing seemed serious enough to worry about, but they would scar up. Why did that seem attractive?
"Needed some air to clear the head."
"What are you going to do now?"
Griever paused, then sighed. "That's what we need to talk about." He looked over the battlefield. "But let's wait until everything is settled. I need some time to recover anyway."
Jem nodded, then headed back in.
A sigh escaped Griever. It had seemed like forever ago since he wandered into town to try to recruit the Night Hawks, yet it was only a few months ago. So much had happened since he had 'joined' the Hawks, though. He had never felt such a warm place to be. Not since he was a child in his parents home.
But... it always ended. And his addiction to battle was not to be underestimated. How long til he would want for another challenge to overcome? How long til he would want to taste the air of another battlefield? Or... Did he ever want to again?
He had to think it through, then... then he would decide whether to leave or stay here.