Déodat

And all the harm I've ever done, alas, it was to none but me

She came. The Time Mender came and in that moment she was more than his friend, she was his beacon of hope. Lena came and pressed her face to his and he welcomed the touch. Odette stared at the mare with her single good eye, an unfamiliar face, but she knew of the familiarity shared between her bonded and this mare. The relief Déodat felt seeped into the soul of the white pup and she decided then she could trust the mare.

Déodat took her words in silence, and he closed his eyes, for once in a long while, content. Failure would always haunt his path, he knew that at the end there would be Lena, the mare with her magic songs and never ceasing smiles. The Blood Prince would be eternally in the mare’s debt. How many times had she healed him with no request in return? That wasn’t something he would easily let go or forget.

A song filled the air and he watched the wounds upon Odette’s features fade slowly. Her ears perked forward as the pain slowly ebbed away from her burns and eye. The blood had long since dried. Déodat could see mend itself slightly. A sigh passed from his lips as he sensed the pup’s confusion at her now partial blindness. She looked over at her bonded and wagged her tail slowly, obviously in far less pain than previously.

Before he could even thank Lena, another song came from her lips and he felt his own body begin to mend. The open wound in his chest slowly closed and the scratch down his eye shut as well. All the aches and pains were gone and a sigh of relief passed from his lips, for he knew, yes he knew he would see another dawn.

“Thank you,” He said looking at his friend, with an attempt at a smile. “Odette and I both are in your debt.” Déodat had no desire to express his failures, to tell of his foolhardy and prideful moves to what he believed would benefit the Plague. Things came to those who wait they said, and if he truly looked upon his life there were things around him. Let the Bloodskald hold the title. Failure or not, Déodat still had much and he would cling to those blessings in this time of great defeat and shame.

“I’ll always be in your debt Lena, you always save and heal my sorry ass,” He said, a bit of cheer returning to his tone. Grim lines were still etched onto his face. In his eyes a small flicker burned there, no bigger than the light of a candle, but it was still strong and one could see it with the simplest glance, it was hope.

@[Lena]