The Healer cried over the loss of her husband and her child. And while Yaovi worked her magic with Mizar to prevent any future tragedies, the Battlemage comforted her friend.
“You will see them again some day,” she soothed the Lycan.
“I know that, but it still HURTS. It HURTS and I cannot do a thing about it,” The woman sobbed. “What is there that I can do now that they are gone but to abandon this life and try again?”
“No! Live, and Live on for their sake!” The Battlemage tried to comfort the Healer. “That is what they would have wanted. Is it not?”
“Wouldn’t it be easier just to let the Soul Bond reunite us in the next life?” The healer asked.
“There may not BE A next life for us!” The Battlemage replied. “Not on this world!!” She took a breath and then added, “Not unless we beat Kyiahlnah for good and seal her away.”
It was a hard life for the Muse of the Serenade’s Song, she who preferred the name Zuzol.
Death surrounded them constantly. Their finest healer had just lost her husband and child, and now… It was a funny thought, the member of the Guardian Trio mused. The Muse mused. What a funny phrase.
Their healer held doubts about living, and what mortal would not at least consider it after the countless hours of death that had befallen the world?
But none were as skilled as she- if she left them, who would mend the troops who survived each and every fight?
At the very least, Kyiahlnah had been set back with the defeat of so much of her army by the Battlemage’s hands. Zuzol had time to spare.
And so during the ramp up to the next big fight, she trained under their Healer. Gaining the expertise needed to heal in case the woman decided to leave them for the next life.
Suicide held a different meaning in this world when you knew your soul would simply be reborn. All though all life was precious, it was… renewable?
There were those soldiers who were heavily crippled, but still lived. They knew as well as anyone else that if they could not even walk, they could still man the occasional magi-cannon.
For in a war with an enemy this fierce, who simply forced her surviving army to breed and breed until she had enough forces to throw at a fight, it was better to go out fighting rather than to live crippled.
But Zuzol felt that sentiment was WRONG.
By learning under the Healer, she hoped to give the woman something to live for.
But whether she succeeded in that venture or not all depended on the future of the next set of battles.