Cedric's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Cedric woke to pain in his side and salt water in his mouth. He rolled onto his back and stared at the sky, trying to remember how he'd gotten here. His armor was gone. His horse was gone. Blood soaked through his tunic where something had torn the flesh below his ribs. He heard hooves on wet sand and turned his head. His pegasus stood near the waterline, wings folded tight against its sides, feathers dripping. Beyond it, half-buried in the shore, sat the broken hull of a boat wrapped in vines. The wood was split wide open, jagged edges pointing at the sky. That explained the blood. Footsteps approached from behind. A woman's voice, calm and sure. "Don't move." Cedric froze. He knew that voice. He'd heard it a dozen times before, always when he was trying not to bleed on her floor or stammer through an excuse about why he'd come back. The healer knelt beside him, and he wanted to explain himself, to say something that would make him sound like the knight he was supposed to be. But she was already reaching into a cloth pouch at her belt, pulling out dried moss and root fibers, her hands steady and practiced. The words died in his throat. She pressed the herbs against his wound, and the pain dimmed. He watched her face, grateful she wasn't looking at his.