Solace In The Midst Of Loss
Summary: You’re running through the forest, hoping to earn some extra gold for your already difficult situation that you lift on your shoulders alone, until you find a terribly injured knight on the borders of Aedes Elysiae. Thankfully, you’re able to get him to proper help with your occupation as a healer. Yet when he awakes, he speaks of a sudden darkness, like a dark current about to wash over the world of Amphoreus. And soon, you learn of the misfortune that came upon his kingdom. He’s lost everything, his home, family, companions, a part of his identity as Phainon from Aedes Elysiae. And soon, the reality dawns upon your own kingdom, Okema.
tags: Medieval AU, Knight!Phainon, Healer!AFAB!reader, Slow burn, Eventual Romance, strangers to friends to lovers, character injury, sexism, misogyny, reader insert stands up for herself, idk what else I’m tired
a/n: this is gonna be a long-term fic if I can actually keep up a posting schedule. Maybe. Eh. IDFK man I’m just happy to post this. Also I plan on the reader having a mind for her own cuz I personally dislike when the reader doesn’t do SHIT. Anyways I hope u enjoy comments are greatly appreciated🥹
Phainon collapsed against the trunk of a dark tree, groaning out as he held his side and slumped down onto the grassy floor. His legs burned and ached as he finally put them to rest, the adrenaline beginning to wear off and a stinging sensation on his hip returning just to taunt him. He breathed out unsteady puffs of air, dipping his head back and letting it rest against the hard wood behind him. He could feel beads of sweat sliding down from his snowy hair and the sticky blood that dirtied his armor and clothing, not that he could find much room to care when the nagging pain on his side was much more attention-worthy. His azure gaze hardened as he groaned out in pain once more, brows furrowing. He ripped off a piece of cloth from his tunic, bunched it up into one hand, and stuffed it in between his teeth, biting down on it as hard as he could to muffle his groans and pained whimpers.
Phainon shut his eyes tightly, yet when he saw darkness, all he was met with were the memories of his comrades being taken down one by one by the Black Tide, an evil force that nobody in the kingdom was prepared for. Phainon pushed through, thrusting his great sword through every chest of those monsters, feeling a sense of relief once he heard their defeated cries. However, his victories wouldn't last, as every waking second another knight would meet their demise. A whole knight, just gone in a moment. A knight, someone who had a whole life, a family, people to come back home to. Someone who had hobbies and even passions beyond the art of combat. Just for a letter to come back to their parents, carrying the dreadful news. Their mother would cry out, their father shouting and arguing like he could fight his way into reviving his child from the dead.
He held back hot sticky tears that threatened to stream down his cheeks, all while pressing pressure into his side, even if it didn't help as much as he needed it to. As Phainon looked up, his vision blurring as the stars hung up in the sky became flashes of light, the only stable thing under the midnight blanket being the moon. The moon would have once been something so… normal, even precious in different moments. Moments like when he was no different from a baby deer learning to walk for the first time, when his mother took his hand in hers and guided him along the path outside their home, past the farm and to the yellow, untamed fields of Aedes Elysiae. She would hold a lantern with an ever so fierce flame on a candle as she lead him through the darkness, to a spot in the fields. The two would lay back, little Phainon— ever the troublemaker— unable to sit still. Though at some point, his declarations of war within his make-pretend world shifted into question about folklore and old stories. Audata would answer them one by one, as patient as a mother could be while pointing up at the stars and murmuring bedtime stories to Phainon until he fell into the sweet surrender of dreams.
Phainon choked on a cry as images and memories flashed by in his mind, one after the other. A painful reminder that everything he once knew as safety, compassion, companionship were all washed away by the dark current of the Black Tide. This was far worse torture than the deepest stab right through his chest. He couldn't help but let go, tears finally escaping his eyes like a waterfall as he tried to blink them away, and yet failed. Exhaustion tugged at his body, pulling him down to the soft grass beneath himself, practically coaxing him into the merciful escape of sleep. He couldn't accept defeat that easily, no, this was not an option. Phainon had to keep fighting, he had to keep moving, he must keep breathing. He propped himself up on a shaky elbow, but it was last attempt proved futile as he finally recognized the pool of blood next to him and the dizziness plaguing his mind. His head dropped to the ground with a dull thud as he fought to keep his lingering thoughts.
Stay alive, for her. So she will gaze upon you another day.
Stay alive, stay alive, stay alive.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Your footsteps crunch gently against the grass and leaves as you made your way through the forest. Your palm began to sweat against the dagger held tightly in your hand, fingers adjusting their grip as though it'd help calm down your rapid heartbeat. The silk hood you wore wasn't much more help either, practically blocking your vision on purpose. Whatever, it wouldn't even mean much when it's dark and you can hear some monster howling in the distance. If you just ignored how there was a very, very high chance that you'd be tackled by a creature in a place that was deemed "I dunno, the middle of nowhere?" and the fact the your knees were about to crumble into dust, you were technically fine. You heaved breaths as you continued to trek through the dense forest, not very sure how much longer you'd keep up. At some point, giving up seemed like the only logical answer to the entire mess, causing you to accidentally trip over to the ground and accidentally curl up next to a bush and accidentally eat whatever morsel you could sneak from the leftovers of those snobby nobles.
You picked a small loaf of bread from your leather pouch, holding it in both hands as you split the snack delicately with your fingers. the dough in the middle was fully baked, fluffy even. But when you brought the ripped half up to your lips, it felt stiff and cold as it brushed against your tongue. Of course, these were leftovers. Having warm bread anytime and anywhere was a luxury that was unfortunately unobtainable for a humble servant like you. Well, that didn't matter when the roaring of your stomach could wake up the entire forest if you weren't careful. Finally, you parted your lips and slotted the smaller pieces of bread that you ripped off into your mouth, chewing carefully. As much as you wanted to stuff your face, feeling full was more of a priority over fulfilling your desires. Money is especially tight, not for your coworkers but it seems to be just for you, like the gods above cherry-picked you for their amusement. It wasn't always like this, when Father used to be able to work, combined with your job as a healer, income was steady and life was stable.
If only he hadn't been ill for the past couple of months, things would've stayed the way they were supposed to. As much as you wanted to kick, scream and cry for this curse set upon your father, there was nothing you could do in reality. Medicine was helping slowly but surely, however most weeks it'd take a large chunk out of the money meant for your stomach. At least the pain came to an end as you finished your small snack. As much as you wanted to sit back and sleep here, that was simply not an option when there was extra gold to be earned. Pushing yourself up, you dusted the crumbs off of your long gown as you stood. However, just as you were about to continue on your way, the sharp growl of an animal made you whip your head to the bushes behind you. A pair of sharp amber eyes glared at you, hidden the brambles, narrowed down to slits as the menacing sounds heightened in volume. Your heart plunged like a sinking ship as you stifled a gasp. You considered the possibility of being taken down by a monster through out the night, but you didn't exactly considered the reality of it! Whether or not a creature— wolf or bear, who cares?!— were lurking in those bushes, the spike in your chest screamed nothing but to run. Your feet carried you, thundering footsteps against the ground as you dashed through the forest. It was hard to tell what was what— if that was a tree or some demonic entity— when everything was so dark that a star not dare shine above your head.
Where were you even headed? Not a clue! Nothing mattered when there was a bear behind you, about to chomp your head off with one bite! It didn't matter if you got lost in this maze, or if you'd become some legend that grandparents would scare children with, all that mattered was that you kept pushing your way through. Nothing would stop you, if it weren't for the unbearable burn boiling up in you calves as you ran. At this point, you'd either die from being eaten by a monster, or from exhaustion. Taking the latter sounded like a much better option if it weren't for thick root that caught the tip of your boot, sending you crashing into the dirt and smacking you in the face with mother nature. Seriously, could it get any worse?!
You turned your head back in absolute horror, already mentally accepting your fate. Picturing your funeral, there'd probably be a group of maybe… twelve people there at most. Their voices echoed in the back of your mind, what dramatic speech they'd go on about for a solid couple minutes and a half. Oh well, it was a good run anyways. A metallic scent floated throughout the air, however to your surprise, there were no sharp claws about to scar your face or across your chest, in fact, there was no injury at all. The sea storm in your chest transformed into something as light as air when you weren't met with a bear… but a small fox— most likely a mere cub— approaching you with a glint of curiosity in their eyes. You just sat there, the reality dawning on you for an amount of time you didn't care to count. To think, all this time that you've been running for your life, a fox was playing tag with you like it was some sort of game— and the worst part, it was!
You groaned out, face burning at the misconception. But that was cut short when your senses were filled with an unforgettable scent. One, that you've recognized countless times. It was part of your everyday life as a healer, although you usually grimaced at the sight of it. Blood. And suddenly, panic stabbed you through the chest once more. The fox tilted it's head at you, the reason for it's curiosity much clearer now.
"…hello?" You called out in an unsteady tone.
"Hello!" You shouted out this time.
Well, there was no yelp of a startled hare or the growl of a wolf nearby, clearly indicating that whatever was bleeding out must be unconscious, possibly even dead? Yet the smell was still strong, fresh, and carried no stench. Good, there's a chance that the injured victim is still alive at the very least, although they still appeared to be unconscious, but the thought of carrying a whole body back to the village already had irritation simmering beneath your skin. Alas, you gracefully pushed yourself up and let out a sharp exhale, the burn in your cheeks still evident in your face, even though nobody but that little fox watched your silly chase throughout the woods. After readjusting your belt and the leather pouch slung across your waist, you trekked off around the area, following as the sharp scent became stronger and stronger the more you searched.
Eventually, you caught a smeared paste on the grass beneath your boots. You took a couple cautious steps back, assessing the trail that lead past a couple of yellow-ish bushes and thick trees. Had you really gone that far, as to reach the outskirts of Aedes Elesiyae? You shook your head, clearly, it wasn't the time to be distracted. Bringing back your attention to the track, there were large patches of dried blood, having gone a reddish-brown with some of it mixed in with the soil like someone was marching all over it. The victim was probably losing a lot of blood, leading you to the reason why their footsteps appeared so sloppy. You continued following the trail, lifting up your dress over the splattered blood. A shiver ran down your spine, as much as you tried to repress it. Though the more your followed, the harder your brows furrowed. Eventually your eyes were met with a slump of armor and a fluffy, white head. The man lay in a puddle of his own crimson liquid, a ripped piece of cloth buried in between his teeth. You couldn't help but gasp at the sight. This was definitely one of the rarer cases that were given, even nearing on something obscene. He seemed to have tied a knot out of his ripped tunic to where the injury was, adding as much pressure as possible. It was an attempt— a poor one at that— but at least it was something.
With a grunt and a lot of arm work, you successfully turned the man from laying on his stomach to laying on his back. Your hands already got to work, stripping him of his armor but nothing else. You placed your palm on the left side of his chest, feeling for a steady heartbeat. Your chest sinked a little deeper at how it felt unsteady beneath your fingers, but you continued on anyways with your eyes narrowed in concentration, your lips not uttering a peep. After a short while of examining him, you were able to come up to some conclusions. He was still breathing— thankfully— and the dried blood on his injury made it appear much larger than it was, however you couldn't deny that the wound was deeper than you expected. There were also much smaller cuts and bruises along his body, but they were nothing compared to this one.
After jotting down all of your observations into your small notebook— filled with the uses of herbs and small doodles of their appearances— you stood up again, looking down at the knight slumped before your feet.
There was no way you'd be carrying this hunk all the way back to the kingdom, that's for sure.
Well, not without a little bit of help.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
When Phainon opened his eyes, he wasn't met with the hard ground or a heavy, piercing pain, but instead he saw the warm rays from the orange sun setting in front of his very own eyes. Or the soft wheat that grazed the tips of his fingers. He slowly blinked a couple of times, his eyelids heavy and his limbs unwilling to move an inch from their place. Slouching against the trunk of a tree, he dipped his head back, glancing up the branches and leaves. Phainon's heartbeat quickened at the sight of yellow leaves, one even floating down and settling right on his forehead. He shook his head like a dog drying itself after diving into a lake— much like how snowy would— before pushing forward with a sharp gasp. He looked down at his hands, tiny and soft rather than the large and calloused hands he was used to seeing weild a claymore in the midst of battle. He wasn't in his usual attire either, instead he wore a blue tunic and shorts, white cloth slung around his shoulders down to his waist with a leather belt holding it together. It much lighter against his body unlike the heavy armor he wore nearly everyday.
"Dear, where are you?" A gentle voice cooed from far, far away.
Phainon whipped his head, rapidly switching between left and right. He immediately struggled to his feet, stumbling over like a baby elephant before stabilizing himself properly against the tree. Phainon knew that voice all too well. Warm, gentle and soothing like honey going down a sore throat or a mother singing a lullaby to her wailing baby. Before he knew it, his legs were carrying as fast as they could, which wasn't very quick considering how stubby they were compared to how his legs were normally. His breath was already becoming short and labored, however his determination was much stronger than the burn in his lungs. His hope was filling up like sand in an hourglass the more the voice called out to him, bounding him over as he ran across the warm yellow fields. After what felt like years of sprinting, he was met with a glow in the distance and the closer he got, the clearer that voice became. Just a few more steps, a few more breaths, he even reached out his hand, small fingers nearly grazing the light.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Now, the white-haired man lay in a comfortable bed, the sheets splayed across his body. He lay on his back, bandages dirtied with blood that wrapped around his abdomen. His hand fisted into his blanket, sometimes even attempting to tug at it harshly. Unfortunately for him, you sat on the mattress, on top of his oh-so-dear blanket that was getting on your nerves when you heard it sudennly rustle for the umpteenth time. But what made your brows go drawn were the other, healed scars across his body and the bruises that decorated his chest. Clearly, he was an experienced knight, but the sudeen slash at his hip and the dark bruises were what got the gears in your brain turning. Was he being chased down by an animal?— much like how you thought you were last night, as much as you tried to push the thought away— no, that doesn't sound likely, he had a large sword by his side and armor to protect him long enough. No predator could possibly rip through his armor so cleanly either. Was it an injury from a natural disaster? Was he on a mountain, and happened to get stabbed by a rock when tumbling down? No, there weren't such terrifying mountains near Okema nor Aedes Elysiae. The only other conclusion that reached you was the possibility that another knight was dueling with him, however Okema and Aedes Elysiae were anything but foes.
You continued to wrack your brain for more possibilities, grumbling whatever else could come to mind out loud until a hand suddenly clawed at your wrist. You looked up, snapping out of your haze to the man tugging your hand and shouting out something unintelligible.
"Keep your hands off of me—!" You gasped shakily, practically launching yourself off the bed as you snatched your wrist back.
He suddenly went quiet, eyes as wide as saucers when his hands froze, stuck in front of him. His eyes darted around, from his bandages, the shelves, the desk in the corner with countless notebooks and plants. He seemed to notice the jars of poultices and herbs left to dry out from where the sun passed through the window. His eyes traveled all over you, from the tips of your boots, up your light, cream-colored gown and to the glint in your sharp eyes as you glared right through him. He lowered his hands, resting them against the sheets slowly. He took a couple of deep breaths, the sound filling up the silence of the room. Finally, his lips parted, but not a peep slipped out.
"You're in a sanatorium located within Okema." You answered before he could even ask the question— it wasn't difficult to guess the thoughts racing through his mind. After what felt like a full minute of making uncomfortable yet awfully consistent eye contact, he finally mustered up his voice to speak.
"Where is she?" He rasped.
You smoothed down your dress before answering probably the weirdest question you've ever received from an unknown patient.
"Sir, there is nobody waiting for you. You're on your own."
"But— but I heard her voice."
also, please do NOT feed my work to ai slop, thank you.
