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The sun shone down on the monastery, drenching the buildings in afternoon light. Wooden platforms and scaffolding stood against the places where stone walls had caved in and crumbled. Shattered windows bared their shards like jagged teeth, and piles of rubble and masonry covered the walkways in heaps. The monastery that was once the heart of the Church of Seiros lay in a broken ruin.
But this ruin was now home to the Kingdom army—what few forces they had, anyway. To make the monastery livable again, not only did it have to be repaired, but it also had to be cleaned up—which was what Felix was assigned to do.
And so was Ashe.
Ashe, who stood by the pile of rubble in front of the dining hall. Instead of getting to work, he had his right arm bent over his head with his left hand pulling at his elbow.
“What are you doing?” Felix demanded.
Ashe let go of his elbow but kept his arms raised over his head. Then he started pulling on the other elbow.
“I’m stretching my arms,” he replied.
Felix scowled. “I can see that. Why are you stretching your arms?”
“Remember how we were assigned to clear rubble two weeks ago? I was so sore the next day, I could barely move.”
“So stretching your arms is supposed to help?”
“Stretching helps with preventing injury during training, so it should help keep me from getting sore.”
Felix looked at the bricks and broken stones clustered on the landing of the dining hall. Some of the stone chunks were as big as barrels. Stretching or not, neither of them was going to escape the inevitable consequence of sore muscles after they were done.
Ashe followed his gaze. “Well, it couldn’t hurt, right?” he said.
“Let’s just get to work,” Felix muttered.
Ashe and Felix started to clear the ground of rubble by moving stones to a cart nearby. Smaller stones and dirt were transferred with shovels, while heftier stones and boulders were hauled with hands accompanied by grunts and the occasional curse. The largest pieces—including a long chunk of architecture that used to form part of the dining hall roof—were smashed into smaller ones with sledgehammers before they were moved, as well.
If it had been spring or summer, their labor would have made for thirsty work. But the winter sun only barely warmed their backs, and the cold air siphoned off the heat that came with the work of hauling the equivalent of stone weights. Even so, Felix began to sweat, and the fur lining of his coat clung to him in the most uncomfortable ways.
They had removed about a third of the pile when Ashe put down his shovel to stretch—again.
“If we keep stopping, we’ll never get this done,” Felix grumbled, tugging at the sweaty fur collar of his coat with irritable fingers.
But Ashe leaned way over to one side with a hand on his hip and the other arm arced over his head. “I’ve got to stay limber if I don’t want to get hurt,” he said. “This won’t take long. I’ll be back to work before you know it!”
Felix opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. Any impulse to argue with Ashe dissolved under the brightness of his earnest attitude.
“Suit yourself,” Felix said, jamming his shovel into the pile of rubble. “At least one of us will make sure the job gets done.”
He leaned into the shovel, then pushed down on the handle like a lever. A cluster of stones lifted up in the shovel’s blade, and he pivoted on his feet to swing the load into the cart—
And twisted his back.
Pain shot down his spine and into his leg, and he yelped through gritted teeth. The shovel hit the ground in a crash of metal and stone, and he dropped to one knee.
“Felix!” Ashe exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Felix said, panting through the pain.
Ashe’s brow furrowed with concern. “You look like you’re hurt. Come on, let’s get you to the infirmary.”
“I said I’m fine,” Felix snapped. “It’s not a big deal. Just a pulled muscle, that’s all. I just need to…” He winced. “…sit down for a bit.”
Ashe watched him shuffle over to the side of the dining hall and gingerly lower himself to the ground. When he sat back against the solid stone wall, Ashe’s gaze followed him with unnecessary worry. His irritation only cooled when Ashe turned back to the heap of rubble and resumed shoveling debris into the cart.
The pile slowly shrank, but the pain hadn’t eased. Every swing of Ashe’s shovel, every grunting haul of Ashe’s arms made Felix tap his fingers against his knee with restless energy. He should be up there with Ashe, doing his part in clearing the rubble, not hunched over by the wall because of some twisted muscle. If Ashe kept this up by himself, the idiot was going to get himself hurt.
And when Ashe stopped yet again to stretch, Felix said so.
“You should slow down,” he said, as Ashe lowered himself into a lunge. “There’s no way you can clear this whole pile by yourself, and you need to stop acting like you can.”
Ashe went deeper into his lunge, with one knee bent in front and his other leg stretched as far behind him as possible. “I know, but the Professor expects us to have this pile done by the end of today.”
The heap of rubble was now half of what it was when they had started, but the sun was already low in the sky. “Well, that’s not happening. Not when you’re the only one doing the work.”
Ashe glanced at where the sun hung above the horizon, then at the mound of cracked bricks and crumbling stone. “You’re right. Maybe we should call it a day. I’ll tell the Professor that you got hurt. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“I’m not hurt,” Felix protested, pushing himself up to stand. But he had only just braced his feet underneath him in a half-crouch when pain lanced down his back. “I’m just…sore,” he said tightly.
Ashe came out of his stretch and hurried to Felix’s side. “I don’t know,” he said, with his eyebrows knit together. “You look like you hurt yourself pretty badly.”
“I said I’m fine,” Felix gritted out through clenched teeth.
“Hold still,” Ashe said, placing his palm on the side of Felix’s chest. His fingers moved down Felix’s back, kneading muscles that had gone stiff as he searched for the spot that Felix had twisted. The rhythmic massage of Ashe’s fingers sent relief washing through Felix’s body, and a wave of something hot and pleasant prickled over his skin. Felix leaned into Ashe’s touch, it felt so good.
But then his fingers hit the injured muscle and pain like fire tore through Felix’s back.
“Arghh!” Felix cried out, doubling over.
“I’m sorry, Felix! I-I was just trying to figure out where you injured yourself,” Ashe said, his eyes wide with alarm. “I didn’t mean to make it worse.”
“Like I said,” Felix panted with his hands braced on his knees, “I just pulled a muscle.”
“We really need to get you to the infirmary, then,” Ashe said, his frown filled with concern and his voice firm with purpose. “Manuela can check you over and give you something to ease the pain.”
Bent almost double by the pain that gripped his back, Felix finally conceded. “All right,” he said.
Ashe stooped down and carefully wrapped his arm around Felix’s waist, with his hand curving over Felix’s hip. “Hang onto my shoulders,” he said. “You’re going to need some help getting to the infirmary.”
Felix lifted his hand from his knee and hooked his arm around Ashe’s shoulders. Ashe slowly straightened up, carrying Felix’s weight with a back that was broader and sturdier than Felix had realized. His arm around Felix’s waist was comforting in the way it held him secure, as if Ashe had no intention of letting him stumble.
“All right,” Felix said again, turning his head to hide the warmth in his face. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”