99 Masks

Syryn was sitting beside his patient as he watched Rei realign the broken bone on Gosan's other leg. A makeshift splint created from bamboo and leather, courtesy of one of the other guards, was lying next to the healers.

The purple masked Rei worked on the broken leg with professionalism. Syryn had deduced his competence and thus left him to bind it by himself.

"Gosan, you'll have to bear with the pain," Syryn informed the now semi-lucid navigator. The effects of valerian root were wearing off and the pain would hit him soon. Sweat beaded the man's forehead so Syryn wiped his skin with a damp towel.

"How far are we from Nua?" He asked Rei.

"Two and a half days. His highness chose the nearest detour but we're still far off from home."