Chapter 7: Taste of Medicine
The Herald and all she contained were still reeling from the attack and fight with the pirates. Somehow, the civilian passengers had discovered that the stop had been less than routine and many were angrily demanding in their scared voices that someone—most likely the Captain—explain exactly what had happened and in a hurry.
Of course, the crew readily assured the riled Angels with their varying degrees of upset tempers that everything was under control and none of them were in danger. That was not completely true, but the passengers did not have to know that. In fact, the only person in any danger on The Herald was at that moment in the lower deck, standing in the medical bay as Corvo cringed while being given a shot and watched by a mildly amused Aren.
Aren had some idea of the trouble she was in at that moment, but she was trying to keep it in the back of her mind. The kind blond doctor had pronounced her fit as a Tyrulian fiddle, but has tsked-tsked upon seeing Corvo’s wound, and being acquainted with the twitchy Angel, knew he was not going to have an easy time of vaccinating him against Demonic viruses and infections.
“Now,” Aren said, “Corvo, you can’t possibly think that needle will hurt you? It’s so tiny it’s practically nonexistent.”
Corvo eyed the needle and syringe with dread. “I don’t have to think it will hurt me, since I know it will! You know well as I, that size doesn’t mean anything when it comes down to what hurts and what don’t.” He crossed his arms in firm denial.
Aren laughed and shrugged as she admitted, “That’s true, but once when I was a young girl, I went for a fly around my home and was attacked by a giant Greil condor.”
“What happened?” Corvo asked with widening eyes.
The Greil condors were big enough to prey upon almost anything on Arenstat, including young, foolish Angels. A condor could have a wingspan of up to thirty feet if allowed to live long enough. For precautions sake, the Royal family had instated a hunt each year with the best beast hunters on the planet and the Angel who killed the largest condor won a prize. The sport was quite popular on Arenstat, but every once in a while one of the hunters fell prey to the hunted.
Aren sighed. “I was very young and naïve, but when I was not allowed to go on the hunt I allowed my anger to get the best of me. I snuck out of the castle and went on a hunt of my own to prove I was capable of killing a condor. My hunt soon turned into a disaster. The condor I chose proved to be too much and it turned on me. It chased me for a long distance, and just when I thought I could fly no more, I felt a huge shadow fall over me from above and I knew my days were at an end. I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable to sweep me out of the sky.”
“…And?” Corvo prodded.
“And then I woke up,” Aren replied.
Corvo gave her a blank look. “That has to be the worst story I’ve ever heard.”
“Yes, also true, but you didn’t even flinch when the nice doctor gave you three shots and stitched your wound, now did you?”
With a yelp, Corvo looked at his arm and saw that Aren was right and then he had to laugh. “You’re downright dastardly for a Princess,” he said.
“So I’ve been told,” Aren conceded.
She thanked the doctor for his patience and let Corvo escort her into the hallway and back up to the main level. Her next stop was the Bridge where her newest obstacle waited.
“You don’t think that he’ll be too angry, do you?” Aren asked as they walked.
Corvo scratched his head and replied, “It’s hard to tell sometimes, Ren. Captain isn’t a cruel man, not by any means, but he runs a tight ship and you disturbed the—ah—tightness. If you get what I’m saying.”
Aren nodded. “I didn’t mean for things to get so out of control, and I certainly did not wish for a bounty to be placed upon my head and thereby put others near me in danger. I just want to go to Earth and live in peace. Obviously, someone—“ and by someone she meant Arenslayme “—has a different plan for me.” She glowered at the passing ship walls and wished she had another Demonan to use as a punching bag.
“Here we are,” Corvo announced as they arrived at the Bridge. “Good luck.”
“You aren’t coming with me are you?” Aren asked with little hope of a positive answer.
“Ha! You must have hit your head and the doctor didn’t notice. I wouldn’t throw myself in front of the Captain when he’s in a mood. I’m grown rather fond of you young’un, but I’m not suicidal.”
Corvo continued to chuckle as he patted Aren on the shoulder and headed back the way he had come. Soon, Aren was all alone, well, not exactly. She had quite forgotten about her two guards since they had not commented on anything and made no noise. She noticed them as they stood to the sides and was almost startled.
“Well,” she thought. “At least I’m not completely by myself. They don’t say much, but they’re better than nothing.”
Aren steeled her nerves and pushed the button that made the door open with a whoosh as it slid into the wall on either side.
Before, when she had sneaked her way onto the Bridge under guise of a member of the crew, Aren hadn’t bothered to pay attention to the details of the room. As she re-entered the space, she saw that the blinking lights, dials, and screens along the walls to her right and left were oddly pretty and in perfect order. Each station had a person working at it and the symmetry impressed her. The front wall, opposite from the door she had just used, was solid glass, a material tempered to withstand the tests of space and battle. Facing the transparent wall was a station reserved for the Captain and Aren was not surprised to see Brisneron standing at his post looking out at the darkness of space.
Aren approached the Captain with her flanking guards and when she was within a few yards of him he turned around.
Brisneron’s eyes were inscrutable, but from the tight set of his jaw Aren could deduce that he was less than enthusiastic about having her on his ship.
“You wished to see me, Captain?” she asked in a play to get the awkward silence out of the way.
He snorted. “That’s one way of putting it,” he replied shortly.
“How would you have me say it then?” Aren clarified. “There seems to be no getting around the fact that I wasn’t exactly on the level with you from the start, and for that I apologize—“
“You apologize?” he asked quietly.
Aren paused and was unsure of how to respond since she had just apologized.
“You apologize?” he repeated. “Do you have any idea what kind of danger you put us all in by pulling this stunt?” His voice rose in indignation.
“I’m well aware—“
“No, Princess. I don’t think you are. My ship has just been attacked by Demonan pirates on a route that was—up until six hours ago—safe. I have exactly one hundred and twenty-six passengers on board that I have to answer to, and that is not including the crew who have been with me for years and trust me to keep them safe. My entire career has been based on the fact that I’ve never lost a passenger or allowed them to be hurt.”
Brisneron stopped and took a deep breath. He rubbed one large hand on his temple.
“All of that almost ended today,” he continued in a softer voice. “As if that wasn’t enough, the passenger who disobeyed my orders and put herself in danger turned out to be the bloody Princess of Arenstat! I’m not a weak man, Ren, but when that Demonan captain pointed at you and I saw that you were in the midst of danger, I felt so powerless.”
Aren listened to him with her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. She realized while he was speaking that despite the somewhat positive outcome of the skirmish, she had most certainly done wrong. Previously, she had never been taken to task for anything she had done. The discomfort of shame was new and unpleasant.
“I’m truly sorry,” Aren whispered. “Really, I am. I—I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t even think anyone knew I was on this ship let along leaving Arenstat…” Her voice choked and died as a sob racked her body.
Brisneron’s lingering anger disappeared with the emergence of tears in Aren’s eyes. She reached up to touch them and tried to stop their flow. Brisneron sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He reached out with the other hand to pat Aren on her shoulder in an effort to give her some comfort. If any of the other crew had been listening, none made themselves available or acknowledged the crying Princess.
Aren hiccupped and at Brisneron’s touch managed to pull herself together. Her green eyes were puffy and red, and the tears left trails on her cheeks through the grime of the fight.
“It’s not your fault, Princess,” Brisneron said after Aren seemed to have regained her composure. “I don’t know the details, but I’m sure you must have a very good reason for lying and smuggling yourself off of Arenstat. You can tell me later after we’ve sufficiently escaped from this place. Go back to your cabin. We can do no more today.”
With a small nod, Aren complied. “Thank you,” she said as she turned to leave.
“For what?” Brisneron asked.
“For saving me,” Aren replied simply. “I wasn’t sure what type of Angel you were, but now I know. You’re an Arrow.”
I couldn't stop reading it. It captured my attention and held it. 
I cannot
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