101 Winding Down (1/2)

A couple of hours later during the late afternoon, Azhar woke up.

Old Thane had laid him on a bed of skins, his head upraised atop a sack stuffed with hay that functioned as a pillow so as to make sure blood flowed into his head properly.

Azhar groaned as he shifted himself up. He used his free hand to rub his head, his fingers splayed and pressing into his temple in a rudimentary massage. His movements were a little shaky, but not at all due to physical damage. Nor was it due to mana loss as Li had restored his mana too.

Azhar's expression was more surprised than tired.

After some time tending to the fields, Li was drinking a mug of cool water at the table with Old Thane when they heard and saw Azhar coming to.

Li put down his mug and said, ”You look surprised. Surprised you're alive?”

”A little.” Azhar tapped his head with his fingers.

”Relax, you should be fine,” said Li. ”I have enough confidence in my healing skills for that. A little mashed up brain is nothing.”

Azhar nodded. ”Thanks.”

Li motioned to Old Thane, now the same as ever, withered and aged and yet with that gentle, happy smile that made him Old Thane, not the Bloodfist.

”You should be thanking the old man. He pulled his punches on that last hit when you made your suicide dive. I can fix a little bit of brain damage, but when the whole thing's broken and you straight up die instantly? Yeah, no. Best my healing would do would be to make your corpse look pretty.”

”Hells, old man,” said Azhar, awe under toning his voice. ”Ya had time to pull back even then? Thought I really had ya surprised.”

Old Thane made a fist and held it towards Azhar. ”A warrior is always prepared, young lad. You best remember that.”

”Yeah, this is the Old Thane I know,” said Azhar as he smiled at the old man. ”Less beatings and more wise quotes.”

Old Thane loosed a hearty laugh. ”It was an interesting experience to feel once more the rush to crack skulls, but now that the rush has slowed, I am reminded why I now prefer words over fists.”

”Yeah? Why's that?” Azhar said, leaning forwards, expecting another wise quote.

”Because my back is just not as it once was,” complained Old Thane as he tapped his back.

”Yeah, figured yer warrior's spirit never really left ya,” said Azhar.

”Every warrior must one day lay down their arms, and accepting that is a martial feat of its own,” nodded Old Thane. ”And young lad, I must say that I am sorry for the harsh treatment I flung upon you. I imprinted my younger self with as much concern and care as I could, but alas, it was not quite enough.”

”Naw, I'm all the better for it,” said Azhar. ”Made me stronger. Made me realized what fightin's really bout'.”

”Just know that I won't be there all the time,” said Li. ”You won't have someone like me healing you every single time you decide to bash your own skull in.”

��Jeanne's got that covered, though she's been slackin' on her priestly healin' to train her mutant powers.” Azhar shrugged. ”But yeah, get watcha mean. Course ya ain't gonna be rainin' healin' down on me night and day, but this whole trainin' was still good to make me realize what fightin' was really like. Made me understand that it ain't about winnin' or losin', it's all bout' killin' or being killed.”

”Aye, young lad.” Old Thane shifted in his seat to face Azhar, his expression becoming grave. ”But as Li said, know that this mindset is a desperate one. You fight to survive and kill, but do not let those thoughts consume you. You cannot treat every fight as one to claw for your survival.”

”Course' I know that,” said Azhar with a laugh. ”I ain't gonna' start bitin' off the ears and gougin' out the eyes of the next tavern drunkard that picks a fight with me.”