Discharged

"Dinner time!" a feminine voice said.

The sound of a cart rolling nearing echoed through the room. Hubert and Dareon's conversation was paused, their attention directed to the source of the sound.

The nurse from before filled their sight as she came and parked the steel cart, containing several trays of wooden bowls and cups beside Hubert's bed.

"Hubert, isn't it? This will be your last meal before sleep, make sure to enjoy it," the nurse said, gleaming.

A smile etched on her face as her hands moved and lifted up the tray on the uppermost layer of the cart. Then she gracefully moved it and softly placed it on Hubert's blanketed lap.

"Ah, thank you, nurse," Hubert said with gratefulness.

A smile painted on his face, returning the one the nurse gave him. Though it was unclear if the smile was because of his gratitude or something else.

He looked at the food, a hot bowl of corn soup with a few pieces of chicken meat, accompanied by a cup of water.

"Don't mind it, it's my job. Ah, the spoon," the nurse added, her smile unchanged, sweet and caring. 

She grabbed a wooden spoon from the cart and extended her arm, offering it to Hubert.

Hubert looked at the spoon.

Grabbing it, his hand accidentally touched her.

Soft as fine sand and tender as cotton. 

His hand felt a jolt of electricity, rushing in from the farthest point of his fingertip. His muscles froze as a blush formed on his face.

"Ah, so-sorry," he rushed to apologize, yet his hand remained still.

And so was the nurse.

"I-its okay…" the nurse said, hurriedly.

Then she turned away and hastened, pulled the cart and began administering to other patients in the infirmary. Leaving Hubert on his bed.

"Wow… Soft," Hubert muttered. His eyes were staring at the nurse as she left. The blush lingered from their encounter, as did the warmth of her skin.

It's as if Hubert felt like he existed in the middle of a scentful garden despite being in the middle of a quiet infirmary, surrounded by the darkness of night, lit only by the moonlight and the flickering of torches in iron cages. 

Cough

Dareon coughed jokingly. Pulling Hubert back into consciousness.

Hubert jolted. The blush dissipated, replaced by a feeling of embarrassment as he turned his head toward Dareon, who sat on a chair by his bed.

"What?" Hubert asked.

Dareon squinted his eyes, mocking.

"Nothing~" Dareon responded.

Hubert slightly grinned. Then his eyes focused on the bowl of soup while his hand moved. The spoon was directed at it. But, just before he was about to dip into the food, he remembered.

"Oh, what was the thing you were about to ask? Something about my… hand?" Hubert said, inquiring.

"Oh! Nevermind that, though I'm feeling quite hungry now that your food has come," Dareon said as he stood up from his chair.

"See you then," Hubert bid.

Dareon nodded.

"See you, Hubert," Dareon replied.

Then he turned away, his brows almost frowning.

Hubert watched Dareon leaving, each step of his echoed through the infirmary.

"Will I need to… No, I can't, he is my friend. But… he saw it," Hubert muttered, dropping the spoon into his soup.

Then he raised his arm, though hit by the fireball, his skin was clear and safe lest for the few scratches he got long ago. After that, he opened his glove, revealing the mark of V inside a circle. The mark of the church's slave.

The night ended as soon as he finished his food and placed his head on the much more comfortable pillow compared to the one in his dormitory room.

The few days were uneventful.

The chicken crowed, a signal of the morning. Waking up, a few stretching, breakfast, then onto a few stares off with Aadish and his group that had just awoken. 

Another part of his routine in the infirmary was admiring the beauty of the nurse as she went around doing her duty. Along with a few exchanging glances and conversation they threw to each other.

"So beautiful…" Hubert once muttered.

Though he knew, far deep in him he understood. The probability of a future with her was none. 

Beautiful, pretty, elegant, kind, warm, welcoming, vibrant, gleaming, scentful, dutiful and attractive were the words he thought when he saw her. Yet, he knew his interest would be in vain.

Something had chained him to his duty, another had chained his heart, and another had chained his will. He still felt like a slave—an item, something to be used and thrown away when done.

He felt empty.

Except for the few memories of his mother, which played in his mind occasionally. The only thing that brought him happiness was the nurse. A sight he enjoyed and reminded himself of.

Until the day he was discharged from the infirmary, along with Aadish and the group.

"Ha… I wish I got more time," he muttered, leaving the place in his newly tailored uniform.

"Hubert!" Dareon called from a distance. The evening sun stood behind him.

"Oh! You've come," Hubert said, greeting his friend.

"Of course, I have memorized even the second they said you were getting let off. Well, another reason is that I wouldn't want you to be beaten again," Dareon added, his eyes deviating to the side.

Aadish and his group stood.

"What are you looking at, peasant?" Aadish asked, loud and agitated.

"You want to pick a fight?" Dareon asked as he clenched his fist and bumped them together, the veins in his forearms and forehead bulged, popping out from the skin.

Aadish stared silently, the tension rose.

"Tch, let's go, guys... Peasant," Aadish said, clicking his tongue as he walked away with his group.

Hubert looked at Dareon with wide eyes, accompanied by a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. Shock and nervousness mixed in his gaze.

"Are you really Dareon?" Hubert asked.

Dareon chuckled.

"Of course I am. What? You think I would be beaten again," Dareon said, braggingly, the vein in his forearms and forehead slowly hid themselves again.

"Nah, I was just not expecting that," Hubert said, relieved.

"Beside, look at this," Dareon exclaimed, his tone excited.

Then he opened his palm to the sky and closed his eyes as if concentrating.

Hubert watched with a raised eyebrow, unsure of the trick he was going to be served with

"Ignem… Ruptis," Dareon chanted, slightly struggling.

Then from his hand, came a small burst of fire, continuous and rapid, red though not that hot.

"How did you..?!" Hubert asked, amazement and proudness mingling in his voice, his eyes reflecting the image of the fire.

The spell, though weak, was something Hubert had yet to learn.

Dareon's nose grew longer as he turned off the spell.

"Ha! In the three days you were gone, I was meditating, even in my exercises and sleep! And finally, I reached enlightenment yesterday!" Dareon said happily.

"Then Vinc dumped scrolls onto me and told me to learn all of them," Dareon mentioned. His tone was replaced by exhaustion and tiredness, the learning of scrolls had clearly taken a toll on him.

"Good job! Now I will need to work harder to catch up," Hubert responded.

"You should," Dareon replied, flexing his magic. Clearly, the flame of their friendly rivalry had been awakened.

"Yeah, yeah, I will. Now let's go to Ron, I've been yearning for some exercise in a long time!"

They walked away from the front of the infirmary and to the direction of dormitory building C.

"Fifty six…"

"Fifty seven…"

Thud!

Dareon fell to the ground, chest first. His arms couldn't support him any more as his muscles trembled and steamed, while his lungs repeatedly gasped for air.

Ron glanced at him.

"Fifty eight…" then Ron continued counting.

Hubert hadn't fallen yet.

"Fifty nine…"

Dareon laid on the ground, the only respited he had gotten since the beginning of their exercise.

"Sixty…"

"Sixty one…"

"Sixty two…"

"..."

"Sixty nine…"

Thud

A thud, the same as Dareon's fall, sounded through the clearing as Hubert too experienced the same fate as Dareon.

Despite the battle that raged in his mind between giving up and going on. His strands of pumped muscles knew they couldn't keep up anymore.

"..." Ron looked at Hubert silently, like he had always done.

"Hubert… weak again," Ron sounded.

"Ha… Ha… Ha… I… Was… Just… Discharged… Ha…" Hubert replied in the midst of his struggle for air.

Ron nodded, then went away, signaling the end of their routine.

A few moments later, after a brief rest of laying on the dusty ground, Hubert walked, limping onto the wooden log and sat on it, beside Dareon.

"I can't believe that you are this strong," Dareon started, his breath steady as he had gotten the relaxation he needed.

"This… Is… Nothing, I could… Do ninety before…" Hubert responded, still catching his breath.

"Stop the flexing before I show you my Ignem Ruptis," Dareon said, chuckling.

Hubert laughed.

Though it soon was changed into coughs as he choked on his own laughters