“And you want us to go back? Are you insane?!” he roars.

“We need to be getting help for Mateo and contact the Council, anything but wasting our time talking about going back to die!” He glares at her, his face twisted in anger.

The woman inches closer to the elf, her face unreadable as she raises her hand to the young man. Before it reaches him, a large hand catches it, stopping it in place.

“No fighting.” Cole steps forward and between the two. His grip gentle as he quickly releases her hand. Looking them both straight in the eyes, he states, “There’s been enough blood shed today.” His expression somber but firm.

”Callyn,” he turns to the elf before flickering his eyes to the unconscious man, “Mateo's strong. He’ll be fine.”

The elf’s shoulders slump, a slight nod to his head as he looks at Cole.

“But we have to go back,” cries the woman, her hands trembling as she becomes more flustered and frantic.

“Dolph and the Records are still there…with them.” Her voice grows weak, almost like a whisper, emotion seeping through with each soft word.

“What if…What if they kill him?” She looks to the eyes around her, hoping for some reassurance, but met with none. She breaks down, tears now rolling down her face, as her worry and fear consume her over the anguish for her Librarian.

So this is the real reason.

Clutching her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably, her voice cracked and broken as her emotion gives way. The other supes around her are hesitant or unwilling to help comfort her.

I sigh, turning to Mirin. “You take the injured elf and get him patched up. We can’t have him dripping blood all over the floor.”

She gives me an annoyed look.

“Or would you prefer the crying one?” I gesture toward the broken woman. Mirin blanches, a repulsed look across her petite features.

“That’ll be a hard pass.” She moves past me quickly before I can change my mind and heads toward the injured elf, a slight tilt to her lips as she helps him up and over to the reception desk for treatment. She was nothing if not a prodigy when it came to healing and health potions, so a few cuts and bruises should be nothing to the genius witch.

I grimace, turning toward the crying woman. What do you do to comfort someone like this?

I slowly approach her like I would an animal in the wild, with soft movements and quiet sounds. I hesitate, gently moving closer as I reach a hand out to pat her back.

Her wailing becomes louder.

I look for any other person to help me, seeking refuge in the familiar eyes of Isaac. I plead with him with my eyes to aid me, but he shakes his head, a weary look plastered across his face. He shudders while looking at the woman. He’s not a people person, either. That's why we get along so well.