Just Stay Conscious, Ok?

Written April 2023

Notes: Short story I wrote for my english class, so it's pretty simple.

Clunk.

“C’mon Castor, it’s like you’re not even trying!”

“I am! Stop!” Castor protested towards Mav’s jeering. “I’m just getting— distracted, okay? I wasn’t ready!”

Mav rolled his eyes and snickered as Castor went to retrieve his wooden sword. It had mud stains all up and down the sides from how many times it’d been thrown into the slightly soggy dirt.

“Distracted by what?” came Rooster’s shrill voice from the sidelines, just as mocking as Mav’s despite the fact that he wasn’t even involved in their practice duels. “The birds? The clouds? If this was a real fight, you’d have been stabbed in the gut about seven times by now.”

Castor grumbled as he wiped the sword’s muddied handle against his glove, scraping the caked soil back onto the ground. “Okay, well it’s not a real battle, and I’m fine. Mav, let’s go again.”

Mav ignored him, tucking his own training blade into the loop at his side. His dark, curly hair was done up in a loose, high ponytail and his dull brown eyes darted around their makeshift camp for a moment. “Hey, where’d Radyn go?”

“Who knows,” replied Rooster nonchalantly, setting aside the arrows he’d been re-feathering while watching his friends’ fighting. His red hair was bright in the evening sun, falling over his shoulders and around his freckled face. “She’ll come back eventually; she always does. Just let her do whatever she needs to do. Maybe she went out to find Jona and Keia.”

“Maybe,” said Castor, putting away his own sword in defeat. “I just hope they’re back soon. Jona and Keia, I mean— I'm starving..”

“All worked up from losing so much?” Mav teased, and Castor opened his mouth to try and defend himself, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

A loud rustling noise from a nearby brush made them all fall silent. Rooster’s pointed ears twitched up reflexively, each of their heads swiveling towards the noise. The telltale crunches of sticks and leaves being trampled by heavy feet got closer by the moment— a whooping noise came from further behind the scampering— Radyn’s voice.

Castor put one foot back to steady himself and hesitantly held his training blade out defensively. He saw Mav do the same and caught Rooster pulling out a knife in his periphery. The air hung heavy for a moment, the evening sun casting orange haze over the camp.

The thing leaped out of the brush so quickly that Castor stuttered to get a good glance at what it was. Before he realized what was happening, the beast had sprinted across the clearing and collided with Rooster. Mav yelled something in surprise as Rooster hit the ground with a thunk.

Radyn pushed her way into the clearing just moments after.

“Aw, Gods!” She exclaimed, and Castor had trouble keeping up with all the movement.

Mav was running over to help Rooster and Radyn fight off the creature— it was scaled and feathered— but Castor was frozen in shock. Little red spatters littered the grass around Rooster, his long crimson hair splayed out underneath the tussle.

“Castor!” Mav yelled at him, “What the hell are you doing?! Don’t just stand there!”

That, for some reason, got his body to work. Reality clicked back in and then Castor was sprinting over to his friends, skidding to the ground beside them as Radyn hauled the creature off Rooster’s bloodied form. The thing had a long snout and reptile eyes. It stood on two legs with brutal-looking hooked talons at the ends and sported red feathered wings that bent at the midsection to act as arms. Its mouth was hung open in a silent screech, Rooster’s knife lodged in the underside of its throat.

Mav was staring down at Rooster. He was visibly alive, at least— eyes squeezed, and face tensed as his hand pressed against the bleeding gash in his side. He grunted, and Castor gasped.

“You— you— Oh my god! Castor! Get the— get something! Do something!” Mav said, panicked.

“There’re med supplies with Keia’s sleeping roll.” Radyn said it flatly, but with a noticeable tremor in her voice. She worked to keep the beast down as it struggled through the last moments of its life, gurgling and spitting.

Castor stood and ran towards where Radyn had directed him, stumbling over his feet as he did. It was just his luck that something like this would happen while both people with healing magic were out. He silently prayed that they would be back soon.

Castor dumped the bag of medical supplies onto the ground by Rooster— he was still grunting out words but looking dazed— and scrambled to find the numbing salve among them. His hands shook violently, thoughts racing frantically around his head. He found the container he’d been looking for and sat it down for a moment to pull off his gloves. Beside him, Mav wrung his hands, his hail swishing wildly behind him.

“I... I... Okay, um, lots of blood, bleeding— pressure! Apply pressure!” Mav muttered to himself, rolling up his sleeves to his forearms.

Radyn, having dispatched the creature, pulled over a bag and propped up Rooster against it. As Mav reached forward to press his hands against the wound, Rooster moved his own away. It was a dark and violent red, going slack against the ground.

Castor smoothed out a layer of gauze bandage as he watched. Mav’s eyes were wide and frightened as he placed one hand over the other and pressed firmly against Rooster’s side. Rooster cried out, clenching his jaw so hard Castor thought he might hear a crack.

“I’m f— I'm fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” He chanted, very obviously clinging desperately to consciousness.

“You’re fine,” Mav affirmed, but he didn’t sound like he believed it.

“Just stay conscious, ok? Jona and Keia will be back soon. I think.” Radyn hesitated. “They’ll be back soon.”

Castor spread the salve over the inside of the bandages, fingers trailing through the mixture. He was for a moment taken back to a time when he’d done this before. Many times, in fact, in the midst of battle during his knighthood. He would usher injured fighters toward the healers' tent and soothe their wounds. His deft hands would press against open gashes, spurts of red hurt drenching his fingers and palms. Healing magic could be a lengthy process— keeping a fellow knight conscious was always the top priority.

He looked up toward Mav. “Can you clean it? Before I put the bandages on.”

Mav blinked at him and opened his mouth to reply, but Radyn interrupted. “I’ll do it. Don’t lift your hands, Maverick.”

She plucked an off-white cloth from the supplies that littered the grass and wet it lightly with some water from her flask. She nudged Mav’s fingers out of the way as the cloth soaked up blood and dirt, methodical.

Castor glanced towards Rooster’s face once more. His eyes were shut, and he breathed in stutters, nose pinched up against the pain in his side.

“Stay with me, Rooster, ok?” He said it gently, and Rooster gave a small nod.

“Ready, Castor,” Radyn said, pulling away from her cleaning. At some point she had cut Rooster’s tunic open to expose more of his pale skin, making room for the bandages. Castor let out a long breath and moved to hover over the wound. He plastered one side of the bandage to Rooster’s stomach before looking up at Mav. The other man understood, carefully removing his hands. Castor wrapped the bandages tightly over the gash and secured the other side. He smoothed it over firmly and pulled away.

There was a moment of long silence as each of their breathing steadied. The numbing salve worked its way into Rooster’s skin and nerves, judging by the way his breathing became less labored and he relaxed a bit against the bag.

Mav stared blankly down, chest heaving. Radyn curled her fists into her robe and closed her eyes for a moment.

The sound of Castor’s heartbeat— a pounding he had only just noticed— gradually faded to its normal quiet.

The heavy air broke as Radyn opened her eyes and spoke, “They’re back.”

Despite the warning, Castor startled a bit as Jona called out from across the camp as they entered the clearing with Keia at their side.

“Gods above, what happened? Are you all okay?”

They raced over towards where the other four were huddled, letting out a small gasp as they caught sight of Rooster and the bloodied corpse of the beast nearby. Rooster grunted and sat up a bit. His eyes looked tired still, but he shakily smiled and lifted his arm to give a reassuring thumbs-up.

“Gh, I’m good... Thanks to these fools, anyway.” He relaxed again. “I could really use some kind of proper healing, though...”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Jona replied quickly.

“Good job, you all,” Keia spoke from over their shoulder, “Good to hear that no one died.”