TYND 20
by Cherry“I’ll share a room with Rothy, the rest of you, sort yourselves out.” Theon declared.
“Yes, Leader.”
“The end room’s the most spacious, Leader,” offered the attendant who’d earlier inspected the lodgings.
With Rothy in his arms, Theon strode purposefully toward the end room. The tidy space was clearly prepared with care. The warmth inside hinted at the innkeeper’s respect for the returning soldiers—running the heating so thoroughly must’ve been costly.
“Stay seated,” he said, setting Rothy on a chair.
“I can help unpack—”
“Stay put.”
“……”
Theon turned away and began organising their belongings. Years spent on battlefields had ingrained in him a meticulous tidiness—not obsessive like Zey’s, but practical. For Theon, order was survival. Leaving no trace behind ensured no monsters or demons could track them.
Once everything was in place, he shrugged off his heavy coat, hung it neatly on a hanger, and changed into lighter, casual attire. By the time he turned back, Rothy was still sitting exactly where he had left him, his cheeks flushed pink.
Theon frowned.
“Aren’t you warm?”
“I’m—”
“Then take some layers off.”
Rothy immediately began peeling off his scarf and fur gloves, placing them neatly on the side table.
“Why didn’t you remove them just now if you’re hot?”
“Because I’m obedient… I do what I’m told…”
“From now on, when you’re cold, bundle up; when you’re hot, take things off. Use your own judgement. When I say to stay put, I don’t mean to literally freeze like a statue.”
“Mmhm…”
Rothy fumbled with his coat, but his movements were sluggish. He looked feverish. When Theon reached out to help, Rothy tensed, squeezing his eyes shut and hunching his shoulders.
Screeee!
Out of nowhere, the weasel launched itself at Theon, a white blur of fur and fury. Theon’s reflexes kicked in, and he snatched the creature midair, but realising immediately how his sudden motion could be misinterpreted by Rothy and the weasel.
The little beast writhed and hissed in his grip, its sharp claws flailing.
“Chi-chi, no!” Rothy cried, jumping to his feet. Clutching Theon’s forearm, he pleaded in a trembling voice.
“It’s scared, that’s all. Chi-chi’s a… scaredy-cat. I’ll calm Chi-chi down—I promise! Please don’t hurt Chi-chi. Chi-chi’s really useful…”
“Calm down. I’m not going to harm your weasel. It’s too worked up, so I held onto it.”
“I’m sorry… it’s my fault…”
“It’s fine. Can you calm Chi-chi down?”
“Yes.” Rothy nodded quickly, bobbing his head five times in succession.
Screeee! Screeee!
Theon handed the agitated weasel to Rothy, who quickly grasped it with both hands, pulling it free as though uprooting a stubborn turnip.
| T/N: It takes effort to pull out a turnip from the ground, so the author’s trying to convey just how urgent was Rothy in getting Chi-chi out of Theon’s grasp. |
“It’s alright. Calm down. Theon won’t hurt you……”
Screee.
“Chi-chi, it’s fine… you’re safe.”
Scree…
The weasel licked Rothy’s hand before clambering onto his shoulder, where it began licking his cheek and jaw in a frenzy of affection.
“Rothy, I’m going to unbutton your coat and check your temperature by touching your forehead with my hand. Is that fine?”
“Yes, I’ll explain to Chi-chi as well.”
“Good.”
Rothy held the weasel in front of him with both hands and met its eyes.
“Theon’s going to undress me and touch my face.”
“……”
What he said was technically correct, but Theon felt dizzy for a moment.
“I’ll stay still… so don’t try to bite Theon. Just sit quietly and watch while he undresses me and touches my face… alright?”
Scree…
The weasel turned its red beady eyes to Theon, its glare radiating what Theon could only interpret as reproach. As he’d guessed, Rothy had a slight fever. The earlier panic over the weasel seemed to have worsened it, leaving Rothy visibly sluggish and disoriented. Theon decided they would’ve their meal brought to the room instead.
By morning, Rothy’s fever had worsened, forcing them to abandon their plan to leave at dawn. When there was no improvement by midday, Theon made a decision.
“Chungnip, is there a healing priest in the village?”
“I’ll find out. But… will it be alright to show Rothy to a priest?”
“It doesn’t matter. We don’t have a choice. Bring anyone who can bring his fever down, be it a healer or a physician.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Everyone except Ultje left to search for one. Theon sat by Rothy’s bedside, watching the boy’s laboured breathings. His snow-white hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his flushed cheeks glowed as red as the sunset. His long, lush lashes glistened with moisture.
Chi-chi, who’d been diligently licking rothy’s cheek earlier, now curled up beside his head, though it wasn’t asleep. Its crimson eyes remained fixed on Theon, watchful and wary. Like Theon, the weasel had stayed up all night. It seemed stretched thin, torn between fretting over Rothy, keeping an eye on Theon, and menacing anyone who entered the room. With no chance to rest, and the strain was obvious.
“Your master will be fine. Don’t worry.”
Screee…
“You can sleep, you know… But even if I say so, you probably won’t.”
Screee…
The weasel blinked at him but refused to close its eyes. There was a shuffle outside the door before Ultje entered, carrying a fresh bucket of water and clean towels. As he began tending to Rothy, Theon stepped back to give him space.
“He’s really the opposite of you, Your Grace. You’ve always been as strong as an ox, so you’ve never even had a slight fever. Maybe you should’ve fallen ill once or twice—it would’ve helped me learn how to care for the sick, rather than like this. I’m terrible at it.”
“If the magic stone caused his fever, ordinary care won’t work. We need a healing priest.”
“Won’t the healing priest discover the magic stone inside Rothy?”
“Then we’ll keep them quiet.”
Ultje glanced up, alarmed.
“How exactly do you plan to silence them? You’re not thinking of…killing them, are you? This is such a small village, there’s probably only one priest around.”
“……”
“It’s just a jest, Your Grace. No need for the glare. I’ll prepare some gold and a confidentiality agreement in advance.”
Ultje chuckled lightly, but Theon’s frown didn’t budge. His experience from the night before—being mistaken as a violent brute by Rothy and his weasel—was still fresh in his mind.
As it turned out, the village had no healing priest, only an elderly physician. Thankfully, this meant the presence of the magic stone remained unnoticed. The experienced physician skilfully applied treatment, successfully bringing the fever down. Theon placed the back of his hand against Rothy’s cheek to check his temperature.
It was soft… and pleasantly warm.
“It’s mostly gone now. It seems like he naturally has a warm constitution,” the white-haired physician remarked as he packed away his supplies.
“Yes, that’s correct. Thank you for your help. The villagers praised you as a miracle worker, and now I see why. You even guessed his constitution. Here’s your fee.”
Chungnip handed over a pouch of silver coins. Before the physician could accept it, Theon gave another order.
“Chungnip. Buy some extra medication while you’re at it.”
“Oh, of course. That makes sense.”
Chungnip produced another pouch of coins.
“As you said, he has a naturally warm constitution, so he’s prone to fevers. It’ll take another month for us to reach home, so we’d like to stock up on fever reducers for the journey.”
“……”
Two hefty pouches of silver coins sat plainly in view, yet the physician didn’t spare them a single glance. After a moment of contemplation, he reached into the bag he’d brought and pulled out a large container of medicine—the same medicine he’d given to Rothy earlier.
“Take all of this. It’ll last you six months. I won’t take any payment.”
“What? You won’t accept the coins?”
“In exchange, I’ve a favour to ask.”
The physician stood and approached Theon.
“You’re the leader of this mercenary band, aren’t you? And this person who brought me here… he’s a mage, isn’t he?”
Though Chungnip was dressed in plain clothes instead of a mage’s robe, he’d been found out. He squirmed and stammered out an excuse as Theon’s sharp gaze landed on him.
“I… might’ve used Haste briefly to get here faster……”
A fair justification, and one Theon couldn’t reprimand.
The physician continued,
“Leader, I won’t take your money, but I ask you to repair a bridge for our village.”
“……”
“I don’t know how your mercenary band found its way to our remote village, but we’re extremely cut off from the outside world. We live self-sufficiently, which is fine most of the time, but this past winter has been particularly harsh, causing the magical mechanisms supporting the bridges to fail.”
The physician gestured broadly as he spoke. The village was bisected by a wide river running north to south, connected by three bridges, all supported by magical mechanisms. When those failed, the bridges collapsed.
“For now, we can walk on the frozen river, but once the ice melts, we’ll have to swim to get anywhere. I won’t accept payment—please, just repair the bridge. I’m begging you.”
“Why haven’t you asked the local lord for help?”
Chungnip’s question drew a bitter frown from the old physician.
“Of course we did. It took days on horseback to reach his manor, but when we finally arrived, there was already a line of people from various villages and towns, all waiting to petition him. It took another day just to get an audience with the steward, and he told us there were countless places in the same predicament as ours.”
“……”
“One village had its granary burnt down and is facing starvation. Another lost its church to a collapse, leaving the community in chaos. In some places, they’re battling outbreaks of diseases.”
“……”
“And so, in comparison, our village’s issue is just some broken bridges. We’re not even cut off entirely since we can walk across the ice now or use boats when the thaw comes. It’s an inconvenience, but not a life-threatening one. Naturally, we were given the lowest priority.”Chungnip couldn’t find fault with the physician’s explanation and held his tongue.