#mad bad and while not drachen armor clad is still very dangerous

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Wake Up Call

The very last thing Sebastian rem Rasina knew was that he’d all but thrown himself in the infirmary, the limp body of Riven in his arms.  He had the vague memory of orders being barked before darkness overtook him...

With a gasp, Sebastian sat straight up in the bed.  It took several moments-but then his environment sank in--he was in the medical ward.  And the reason why...  The Tribunus gingerly swung his legs out of bed-then hissed as fresh pain exploded in his skull.

“Owww.”

Yet the pain brought a sudden onslaught of memories.  The day before--learning the fate of the town nearby, finding out that the crown prince and his troops were coming-

Wait.

Sebastian jerked up as a particular set of memories hit him like a freight train.

“It’s said you despise the Garlean gunblade and that you’re a master of what the savages use, rem Rasinia.  Indulge my curiosity.”

He was trying, but there was just no way in hell--the prince was too fast, Sebastian couldn’t get a read on his movements, and forgotten gods the aura he exuded--

I’m going to die.

“That is enough!”

“Riven.”  Sebastian breathed.  She’d thrown herself between him and yae Galvus, daring him to engage her--

“My lord, perhaps something different might be more to your taste.”

“Riven no, you can’t-you can’t fight him!”  Riven’s blue eyes meeting his own, filled with fear--her skin so pale her tattoo stood in stark contrast...

Sebastian bolted to his feet.  He had to-no, he needed to find Riven.  Was she safe?  He remembered her collapsing before the Castrum’s gates, when he’d picked her up she’d been cold as death--but now his body was screaming at the sudden movement, and Sebastian paid the price.  With a yelp he landed on the hard tile floor as his legs gave way.  Now his entire body was starting to throb--oh right, he had his own fair share of injuries from getting his ass kicked by the crown prince.

Fuck me.  With a groan, the ginger-haired man pushed himself up on all fours-rather unsteadily, and rolled onto his backside.  Hissing, he closed his eyes and gathered himself, next was standing up...

Only to feel a presence looming over him.

“Get me up, I need to find the Prafectus Castrorum.” Sebastian barked.  There was no response, and Sebastian looked up.

“I said...”  He trailed off.  The looming figure wasn’t a solider, or another medic.   In fact anyone else would have been preferable to who was glaring at him right now.

Oh.

“No, please.  Continue issuing orders.  In my infirmary.”  Sebastian could only continue to stare upward, wishing that he was back facing Zenos.  Death by the questionable-sanity-Emperor’s son was far preferable--hell, being stripped naked and sent to fight on the Gyr Albania front--would be more ideal than who was staring down at him right now, with clear murder on his mind.

“I’m waiting.” 

Mathye lux Corvina, their Primus Medicus.  Probably the most brilliant and naturally gifted healer Sebastian had ever run into--and who also possessed the worst bedside manner ever.  Like Riven, Mathye was a full-blooded Eorzean--and never had Sebastian seen a healer who would gladly drop what he was doing and engage in a fight--even with his own patients.  At first Sebastian had thought Mathye’s surly attitude was the result of his amnesia-he had no memory of his past life.  Then he’d quickly realized that no, Mathye was just that violent.  Sensing his possible impending death, Sebastian fixed a smile on his face--maybe if he was submissive, Mathye would show some mercy.

“Sorry?”  He ventured.  Mathye unfolded his arms and glared down at Sebastian, disapproval written not only all over his face, but his very being.

“Get your arse up off the floor.”