Sapphire slept on Cedric's cot that night while Cedric sat on the chair as the rain poured down throughout the night. The following morning, the girl left after eating a bowl of boiled meat, which had been stweing on top of the fire overnight. And with that, they finished the last loaf of bread. As the weather was not of a wailing sky, Cedric decided that it was a good day to run some errands in the village.

It was a damp walk through the narrow paths leading to the village through a small patch of woods, where the earth sunk with every step and trees shook off the water from its leaves. Upon entering the tiny congregation of wooden houses he was immediately called upon by its residents. The village chief's wife was having joint problems of late. The boy with hay fever seemed to have improved, but was still causing much worry to his mother. A hunter caught a cold due to the cold whether, and he was keen to continue hunting if not for the constang nagging of his wife to get come medicine. Cedric also visited the butcher’s where he got payment for the herb powder he concocted for hair lice and bought at least five loafs of freshly backed bread and some butter. An old lady offered him goose eggs in payment for fixing his son's broken arm. Cedric had to make sure her son was doing the exercises well, but he seemed a bit too prideful to follow as all the strange movements looked quite silly.

Cedric of course avoided Aunt Marge when he noticed were roaming around near the seamstress’s hut. For some reason, Sapphire’s aunt believed that he was the only bachelor available and suitable for her picking. Fortunately, she took the hint that he wasn’t in a slightly bit interestes, though Cedric had a good mind to give her a lesson on child care.

And when Cedric finally made it back home, it was late noon. Yet despite the sun glaring high in the sky, its aura was defeated by an occasional dark cloud, enveloping its light and covering the world in a grayish haze. A cold breeze filtered through the pine trees surrounding the village, the smell of pine cones and damp earth filling all nostrils. Cedric managed to capture a snow rabbit on the way although they weren't as white as their name suggests.

Cedric then made a fire before relaxing on the broken armchair with another book which he was reading for the sixty seventh time. It was a herbology book, with its yellowed pages threatening to flake off from overuse and the leather bound cover pealing off like gangrenous skin. He didn't realize when he fell asleep. But even asleep didn’t keep him rested, for all he heard was screams.

Screams. Clashing swords. Blood. Thunder. Shooting fire. Thirst. The deep stench of rotten blood.

But it was the sound of hooves which woke him up. The moment he opened his eyes, he was ready to pounce, his hands reaching out to his waist yet his fingers gripping cold air. It took him a while to remember where he was and realized that the sound of hooves weren't a part of this dream.

At least three horses, galloping hard towards his direction.

Cedric pushed open his door. It was dark outside. Almost midnight. The light of the fireplace was already dead, plunging the surroundings into pitch black darkness. At a distance, a lantern shined ahead, the glow brightening with every count.

Cedric went back itside to light some candles and  bent down the fireplace to rekindle the flames. The horses stopped in front, followed by hurried heavy steps storming into the hut. It was a man, clad in armor and a vermilion cloak carrying another whose blood seeped through a wound on his neck, the torn muscle and senew clearly visible from where Cedric stood at the end of the hut.

"Oh my," Cedric muttered. The man was placed on the bed and Cedric quickly took a towel and pressed it on the wound. He then checked under the wounded man’s eyelids and felt his pulse. His heart was beating fast while he looked pale, his breath laboured. He turned to the man who brought the wounded in.

"Press on the wound."

Another man, older with a few additional decades and with silver armor and a similar vermilion cloak with a sigil embossed on the chest plate, stepped in.

"How is he?"

Cedric ignored the third visitor, pulling off the towel to wipe the wound and examining the tissue with a tweezer. There was blood gushing out from one corner. Cedric pressed on it with the towel, and used his other hand to wipe the blood off the tweezer on a bandage nearby before he handing it to the male next to him.

"Hold it over the fire."

The man looked quite confused, looking at the older man for approval. With his nod of approval, the man obeyed and held the tweezer above the candle.

"And bring the candle."

The candle was brought back. Cedric caught the tweezer from the man’s fingers, which was hot now enough to burn skin. He removed the towel and more blood oozed out like, forming a puddle on the base of the wound. Cedric pressed the towel again in which blood coaked the red fabric, soaking it once again. Finally, Cedric caught sight of the vessel which was leaking blood.

"Hold him."

Cedric  used the tweezer and sqeezed the open end of the leaking vessel. Fresh sizzled and burned as the man screamed, trashing around. Someone tried to pull Cedric back, but Cedric held on. When he removed the tweezer, he found that it was the man with the embossed sigil that was holding him.

"We need to stop the bleeding, or he will die of blood loss."

The man with the embossed sigil looked skeptical. But when he turned to look at the wound. The bleeding had reduced considerably.

"What did this to him?" Cedric finally asked as he wiped the wound with a fresh towel. He then poured bowls of fresh boiled water over the wound, washing out blood. He got a good look at the wound. It was very bad, tearing off maybe a stone of flesh from his shoulder. Bone was visible at some places and it was a miracle no major vessels were damaged. At worst, his lungs could have been punctured.

"A large cat," the man with the embossed sigil said.

Cedric could tell that he was am important person. But he couldn't imagine what an important person, maybe probably a Knight Lord, was doing in the outskirts of the kingdom. And the man's answer was not quite enough to convince Cedric.

"You saw it?" Cedric asked as he washed his hands and rummaged took opened a wooden box. Inside was a curved needle, an array of twisted and strnagely shaped scissors and knives and a long bundle of string which Cedric used a scissor like apperatus to hold and another to cut.

"We killed it."

Cedric needled the tread onto the needle, all without holding the thread not needle with his bare hands and used his leg drag the stool near the injured man’s shoulder. And so he sat and down.

“You. Hold the bandage with the big set of tongs over there and mop the wound when there is too much blood,” Cedric said to the wound in front of him.

“Pardon?”

“I can’t do it alone.”

It was the older man who took the tongs.

The man needed at least twenty stiches, five to roughly connect the torn muscle together and the rest to close the skin. The older man watched in amazement at Cedric's fingers nibbly manipulated a tweezer and a pair of petite small tongs to run the needle in and out of living flesh  and  tie the string with knots, sealing the wound away.  Finally, Cedric used spirit to wipe over the stiched wound and wrapped it again with clean bandages. After all of it was done did Cedric realize that there was a little crowd in front of his home.

By the door, the village chief peeped through. Seeing that everything was settled, he entered the shack gingerly, after finally deciding that introductions were needed.

"It's fortunate you were available, Healer Gregory _"

"I am always available."

"Well yes," the village chief replied. He turned to the man with the embossed sigil. "This is Sir Lord Leonard Cohen, Healer Gregory."

"I am Sir Jeremy Hines," the younger one said.

Knights.

This was not good, Cedric thought to himself.

"We would stay here till my subordinate is well enough to travel," Sir Lord Cohen said, turning to the village chief.

"Your accomodations will be prepared, my Lord. My Lord is more than welcome to stay ."

Sir Lord Cohen nodded, leaving the shack and leaving Sir Hines with Cedric. Sir Hines looked at the healer with an awkard smile.

“Do you… need any help?”

His help was the last thing that Cedric needed at the moment.

All he wanted was a good night’s rest without much drama.