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The cold stone is slick and lukewarm with blood. Every step she takes is hindered by how sticky it grows as it cools. The dragon is dead. But that is not a cause to celebrate - not yet.
A pile of bones sits in front of her
She tries to tell the human bones from the Worg bones with a glance, her already poor eyesight made even worse by the tears stinging her eyes. Falin can feel distant gazes drilling into her back, can feel how all of them are fretting over her… But she doesn't turn around.
Her party made their choice. Falin will put her brother back together, bone by bone, by herself.
Laios is 6’1.
Before going to magic school, Falin had never been good at determining heights without tools. Ten inches felt more like five, or one inch was actually three. She still wasn't great at it - but many kinds of magic required a lot of careful measurements that she'd had to eyeball a number of times.
The dragon's blood and other fluids stain her hands, her knees, as she kneels down and starts taking bones from the pile.
When they were little, Laios had developed an interest in animal skeletons. One day, they had found a decomposed squirrel. Its naked bones had turned butter yellow from laying in the sun. It was well preserved - Laios had marveled at how the other animals had done minimal damage to the skeleton through scavenging.
Falin had cried over the little squirrel. She knew it was the way of things, but hadn't been able to help herself. She had made Laios help her bury it underneath a tree with the most acorns, because then it would be able to eat a lot and be happy in the afterlife. Laios had pouted, but quickly got over it, because he had laughed uproariously at the mental image of a fat squirrel relaxing in heaven.
Humans are not very much like squirrels.
(Laios would be a better fit for this job. He knew how dog bodies worked. Worgs were probably really similar.
She wondered… If she was the one the dragon ate, would he have been doing this alone?)
The skulls are easy to differentiate. Falin can't help the way her lips twitch up at the corners, staring at the worg skulls. Laios probably wouldn't mind having a worg head. But Falin would miss his voice, his laugh. So she sets them both aside.
Marcille had also taught her a bit about human skeletons. She had tried to remember it. But Falin had always been better at bodily functions over the structure itself. Healing was faster and less painful when you knew how to manipulate the body's natural desire to heal, rather than snap the bones back in place.
A human ribcage builds itself underneath her steady hands. Arms, legs, the spine… Falin is grimy, her body saturated in the blood of a dragon, but she doesn't care. Because now she just has to finish this up, and she has her brother back. She… She doesn't know what she'll do after that.
It hurts. To know that her party had just… given up on Laios, after they realized he was digested. Had no one really wanted to save him? Were they just… indulging her? Like she's a child?
Falin takes a deep breath and bites the inside of her cheek. There is rage inside of her, bubbling, but she swallows it down like she always does. Right now, she needs to focus.
Dozens of tiny bones remain in the pile. Falin hopes she's right in removing the longer ones.
She's done. The skeleton laying on the cobble floor is complete. Is this her brother? Or had she messed it up somehow? There's no way for her to know for certain. But she'll see if the height, at least, is right.
Gingerly, Falin lays herself down beside the skeleton. She's a good bit shorter than Laios is. There's not another set of eyes to tell her if it looks right or not. But it… It feels right. Even if he's all bone. Even though he can't tease her about not being as tall, because she never liked to drink her milk.
“Falin. Are you done?”
While Falin has been assembling the skeleton, it seems that Marcille has cleaned herself up a bit. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she frowns down at Falin. And Falin doesn't want it to, but that bubbling anger flares. Just a bit. No thanks to you.
Is she justified, thinking such things? No. She doesn't think she is. But maybe she's wrong.
“Marcille, you can bring him back, right?”
“Falin-”
“Right?”
And the elf sighs, her entire body drooping like she's exhausted. She probably is, from the fight it took to take down the dragon. Falin is still running on adrenaline. Marcille looks at Falin with trepidation, “You know that it's forbidden, I can't.”
“Then why did you study it? Marcille… Please. I know you don't care, but I need you to bring my brother back.”
“I do care!” Marcille snaps, suddenly on the offensive, clutching her staff.
She wouldn't be here if she didn't care. Marcille cares, but she cares about Falin. She had known Laios but she didn't like him. She didn't need him the same way Falin needed him. That was why they had gotten as far as slaying the dragon, but Falin had to do the rest herself.
“Then prove it to me. Bring Laios back to life.”
And Marcille silently starts to scratch out ruins with her staff, using the dragon's blood, around Laios's body. Falin turns her attention to the worgs’ bones, crawling over to them and fixing herself so that she's in front of them.
Soft prayers tumble from her lips. She hopes that they're happy, somewhere in the universe, and hopes that they were loved while they were alive. It's sad to pray for a pile of bones. She had no time to reassemble the skeletons, otherwise she would have tried to give them both their individuality back. They'd done her a great service, keeping her brother company.
“I'm going to start casting the spell,” Marcille says, then begins chanting when Falin bobs her head in approval.
Falin does not pull her eyes away from the sight of blood engulfing Laios's skeleton. Not even when the three boys in their party tumble out of their hastily made camp. Toshiro is yelling, so is Chilchuck, but Falin tunes them both out.
The blood congeals unnaturally into flesh.
Marcille collapses, and Falin goes to check on her despite the fact that she's still angry. Her mana reserves are low… So Falin gives her a bit of her own, before she hears choking coughs and turns her attention back to Laios.
He's alive. Bloodstained, naked, and alive. Falin rushes over to him and helps him onto his side so doesn't choke on the blood in his throat. As soon as he's breathing normally, Falin pulls him into her arms, sobbing.
“Laios…!”
“Fa… lin…”
She uses her own sleeves to wipe his face, unbothered by the thin sheen of blood staining his whole body. Behind her, Chilchuck gently wakes up Marcille, and Falin turns her gaze to the elf.
“Thank you…”
And then the tranquility of the moment is interrupted when Laios's stomach grumbles. Senshi says something about food already being prepared, and Falin laughs despite herself.
“Laios, you'll love what we're going to eat!”