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16+ Violence

The Sorcerers of Hisderat, Chapter 7.3

by HarryHardy

Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for violence.

She took a look around the room, trying to assess the mood.

After her interruption with the case, they'd all gone back to doing whatever it was they were doing. Since they had already pretty much confirmed that we are going to Hisderat, I suppose they're trying to crack the rest of this code or planning an expedition. Knowing Stevenson's plans it's probably both. Well no point in me just standing here. I should try to get something done. Maybe I should go see if Henson and Sharpe arrived. She cringed in sympathy at the thought of the two of them. As much as she didn't like them, she knew they were very much out of their league against the three of them if the brief tussles she'd had with them had been any indicator of their abilities.

She briskly made her way outside and towards the med bay. Hopefully those two morons are in one piece. Although on the other hand if Stevenson is in a bad mood, being in one piece might not actually be a good thing. She let out a sigh. Just a little more. Then I don't have to worry about all this anymore.

It took her a few minutes to reach the place but judging by the pained breathing coming from inside she could already imagine what she would find inside. She grimaced. Oh dear. That went about as well as expected. Hopefully neither of them are critical. Doing her best to keep her face neutral, she slowly pushed open the door to avoid startling anyone and made her way in.

The first thing she noticed was the blood. There was a small puddle of the stuff lying at the foot of one of the metal frames that served as beds in the tiny area. She could see Samuel, hands gripping what appeared to be a giant ice shard lodged in Henson’s leg, as he appeared to be trying to pull it out. Ice attacks? Oh dear. That trio covers quite a section of the elementals arts. Dirt, lightning, fire and now ice.

She glanced over at the other one. Sharpe was lying in bed, clutching his stomach and looking like he was in serious pain. There was no visible wound however, and his clothes didn’t even appear to be torn. Judging by the fact that Samuel looked to be resorting to normal techniques to remove the ice shard, he must have already used up his magic in healing whatever internal issues that Sharpe had managed to acquire. She winced as she remembered her own injury. That pink lady could throw one heck of an organ rupture curse.

Evelyn stood at the door. She didn't go in, not wanting to accidentally startle Samuel, knowing fully well that if Samuel was thrown off just a little, Henson would probably end up losing his foot.

Evelyn watched in silence as the medic did his job. Sharpe seemed to have passed out after a while from the pain. They probably ran out of painkillers. As if to prove her point, Henson also passed out from the pain of having the shard removed. Samuel was not one to take stock of any of his supplies. Why couldn't they invest in at least one nurse?

Evelyn tiptoed in and discretely cast a mild numbing spell over Sharpe. She didn't know the specific ones but the broad spectrum ones she'd had to learn over the years were still very useful. She fired off another one in Henson's direction as Samuel managed to somehow remove the ice shard without making it worse.

As he moved to immediately apply a bandage, Evelyn studied the ice shard that he'd pulled out. It was unlike any other form of conjured ice that she had seen. The speed at which it was melting didn’t seem to be natural, especially considering where it had been lodged. The blood that coated the ice shard should have been more than hot enough to melt the whole thing down in a couple of minutes. I really hope I don't have to fight those three again, not without a gatling gun at least.

She moved closer once Samuel was finished with his work.

“How long would it take for those two to be up again?” Evelyn asked, keeping her voice flat, "I need to get the reports from them."

"II doubt they will be in a condition to speak for quite some time Evelyn," replied the man, "they both took some serious hits."

"And those are?" she asked.

Samuel walked over to her, wiping his hands on his already stained clothes. Evelyn wrinkled her nose as he proceeded to also wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Henson, as you can see, was hit by quite the shot there. Someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Hit him right in the Achilles. He's not going to be walking for quite some time. And Sharpe was hit with some intestine twisting abomination that I've never seen before."

Evelyn had to resist the urge to point out that he'd never actually gone to medical school and that the entrail twister was a spell invented back during World War 1.

She gave him a brief nod. "I trust that you can report their return and their current condition to Stevenson. I must be off. I have other matters to tend to."

"Yes, Evelyn."

She gave him a nod and made her way out, being careful to close the flimsy door slowly.

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The simple truth is that authors like making people squirm. If this weren't the case, all novels would be filled completely with cute bunnies having birthday parties.
— Brandon Sanderson, Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians