He goes to the armory, then home.

After Cerni leaves, Domic stops by the armory - a massive room filled with racks of every imaginable weapon, armor, and other items of supply. He ignores the vast majority of it, instead grabbing two dark brown woolen cloaks, speckled with green, a small box lantern and extra candles, and some precut birchbark for tinder. Then he trudges home, woozy from the spiced wine and the dull pain from his wound. In a few minutes, he is through at his front door.

“Izabel? Izabel I’m home. Are you here?” he asks, as he moves into their small entryway. Their timber framed, wattle-and-daub home was not large, or grand, but he and Izabel had made it as cozy as they could. To his left was the kitchen, filled with hearth and cabinets, and the table where they ate their meals. A trapdoor and short ladder lead to their food cellar. To his right was their living room, its furniture consisting of a stone fireplace; a backless wooden couch with a long wool stuffed pillow; a small gaming table with matching chair, for games of chess or backgammon; and a carved wooden cabinet for those games, along with Izabel's apothecary books, and the few books their mother had acquired. Up the stairs in front of him were their two bedrooms. He had slept in his parents' when he was younger, and Izabel in his current one. When their parents died and joined the gods, they had switched. A door out back lead to a small herb garden and the outhouse.

“Yes, I’m upstairs Domic,” her voice calls down.

“Oh good, I…I,” he says. Suddenly the room is spinning rapidly. “Come down! Need you!” he yells.

He opens his eyes to Izabel's face staring at him, her hands cradling his head, with the ceiling behind her. "Domic! Domic, can you hear me? Domic," Izabel stammers, her eyes a storm of fear and concern.

“Izabel? Wha...happen?" he slurs, his throat feeling very dry, as she helps him sit up from the floor and against the wall.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, you just fainted, just wait here,” she stammers, before running off. She comes back a moment later, holding a goblet of water. "Drink this, slowly, good, slower," she says, as he takes it and greedily guzzles it down.

"Gud," he slurs. {if Izabel **** = 1} "Why ma face wet?" he says confusedly.

"Oh, my hair, it fell over you when I was looking at you, I'm sorry," Izabel says. Her long hair clings to her shoulders and neck, a linen towel wrapped hastily around her water-speckled body.{else}

{endif}“Now come on, come to the living room,” she says, helping him to his feet, wrapping her arm around his waist as he holds onto her shoulders. “Sit down, sit down, I’ll be right back,” she leans him back on their couch before running off into the kitchen with the goblet. “Here, now I want you to drink this. And tell me what happened Domic? Why's your shoulder wounded? What'd you do?” she says anxiously as she returns, handing him the goblet and sitting beside him.

“Captain…uh, Halle," he takes a drink - water again, but now pink and slightly sweet - before continuing, "wanted me to...teach his daughter, Cerni, uh forest craft." He takes another drink, as Izabel soothingly rubs his back. "So, I took her, into the forest...and we ran into an orc... and uh," tears start to well in his eyes, "threw his ax, and it was so close, so close, felt it fly by...and then I killed him," he says, leaning forward and holding his head as a few tears roll down his cheeks.

“Oh gods, Domic, that’s terrible, I understand, I understand,” she comforts him, holding him tightly. He sits back up after a minute, sniffling and finishes the goblet. “Here,” Izabel says, wiping away his tears with her hands. Then she holds his face and looks intently at him: “You’re alright, you're safe, you're with me."

“Yes…yes I am,” he says, smiling weakly.

“Yes, that’s right. Are you alright? Do you still feel dizzy?"

"No, uh, I don't...this helped," he says, lifting up the goblet.

"Good, good. Come on, let's go into the kitchen now - I'll get you some more and cook up something quick, alright?" she says. He nods, and she helps him into the kitchen.

...

They sit at their pine kitchen table, bathed in the light of the dying hearth fire. In between bites of bread and vegetable stew, Domic - bare-chested so Izabel can examine his wound - has been telling her the full story of his day, from the morning meeting with Halle to his task for tomorrow. Izabel picks at the hardened brown goo on his shoulder.{if Izabel **** = 1} Her hair is still damp and slowly drying, but she has traded her towel for an undyed chemise and gray ankle-length skirt.{else}{endif}

"Guh, who did this? This poultice is terrible work," she says. It easily crumbles between her fingers, and she wipes off the chunks with a damp cloth. "They could use some practice stitching too."

"It uh, was some old man doctor, had a calfskin bag. I didn't catch his name."

"Oh, him. He's an idiot, don't know why people still call him. I'll be right back," she says, getting up and heading down into their food cellar. She returns a moment later, holding a jar and a small knife. "I'm going to take these threads out alright? I'll be quick," she says, looking concernedly at him. He nods, gritting his teeth as she carefully cuts the threads and quickly pulls them out. Then she wipes away any loose poultice or dried blood, and undoes the stopper on the jar. Inside it is a vivid, cerulean blue mush, which Izabel dips her hand into and starts to rub on his wound. "Does that feel better?"

"Ahh, it does, thank you," he says, as the mush starts to warm with the motion of her hand, and the pain start starts to lessen more.{if Izabel **** = 1} "Uh, I'm sorry by the way," he says, as he looks up at her.

"What? For what?"

"For um, getting you out of your bath," he says sheepishly. "Her hands are so soft," he thinks.

"Oh, that. Don't worry about it, Domic," she says, massaging more of the mush on him. "I'll always get out of the bath for you."

"Uhh, what?" he thinks as he chuckles at the implication.

Izabel's face flushes. "Cuh, if you're in trouble, if it's important, Domic," she says.{else}

{endif}"There, that should be enough," she says, finishing up, and stoppering the jar again.

"What is that stuff?" he asks.

"Apothecary's secret. It's better than what that quack smeared on you," she smiles. "Now, how do you feel? Are you alright with going to the cavern tomorrow?"

"I guess, and uh, well, I don’t think I have much of a choice," he replies, frowning a bit.

“Right, it’s an order from Halle, and I'm sure he wouldn't have given it if he didn't think you were able. And besides, Herut was just telling me today, her cousin and his family were delayed coming from the south and if…,” she trails off, getting a far away look in her dark blue eyes.

“I’m sure they’re alright. Again, we don’t know if there are even any more orcs out in the forest, in this cavern with the three menhirs.”

“You’re right, it was just a worry, but I want you to be careful, regardless,” she says, eyes fixed to his.

"I will."

“Good, now, um, how about you tell me more about Cerni? What's she like?" she says, her face brightening.

"Well, she seems to be a bit like Halle. Direct and charging ahead, but seems willing to learn what I know - and to teach me what I don't," he smirks. "I have to admit she is pretty cute, as well."

"Hmhmhm, Domic, you're already thinking about how cute she is? When Halle says not to?" Izabel chuckles, laying a hand on his arm. "You're just like me, I ignored him too."

"What, no, I'm just stating a fact!" he says exasperatedly. "I'm not going to ignore him - like you? You should have seen the weapons rack he stood next to when he told me!"

"Haha, oh yes, the rack. He always stood by it when he was serious, but yes, I just ignored what he told me, most of the time. Usually he'd order me up to his solar and ask me to stop arresting some councilor's or merchant's spawn," she says.

"You did that? Multiple times? You never told me?"

“Well, you were young and I didn’t want to worry you. And eventually after I'd done it enough times he’d just say ‘I’m disappointed, Izabel’ and wave me away. I think he liked that I roughed them up and arrested them, when he couldn’t. Always stood by his rack though.”

“Ha! Truly?” he laughs.

“Yes, it’s true!”

“What else have you done? Tell me.”

“Hmhmhm, lots of things, little brother. But no, not tonight, it’s late,” she chuckles again, glancing out the kitchen window. "And you need your rest. Give me your tunic, I'll clean it and mend it for you, while you're gone."

“Alright,” he says, getting up. He helps her empty and scrub the bowls, throwing the waste out into the street. Then he goes down into the chill cellar and packs some food for the journey tomorrow, and finally heads upstairs. Izabel sits at a small desk in her room, looking at a book by candlelight. “Goodnight, Izabel,” he says.

“Goodnight, Domic. Wake me before you leave tomorrow, alright?”

“Of course,” he says.

“And oh, uhm, one more thing, Domic,” she says, her face slightly flushed. “I know what Halle said about Cerni and what you said. But, um, sometimes relationships between men and women change. So if you and Cerni happen to get closer, really close," she smiles knowingly. “And um, you both decide to be...intimate.{if Izabel ****=1} Uh, come to me first - because I am an apothecary, and there are potions I can make,{else} Uh, go to Herut first, because she can make potions{endif} that’ll make sure there aren’t any surprises,” she says.

Face flushed, he nods and leaves.

...

{if Izabel **** = 1}“Izabel where are you? I need you,” he shouts, standing naked on a wide plain, cock erect and throbbing.

She appears beside him, hair wet, wrapped in a linen towel. “Here I am, Domic. I’m always here for you. Do you want to be…intimate?” she smiles, kissing his neck, and smearing a cerulean blue mush down his chest, lower and lower, until she-!

{else}"Cerni where are you? Are you alright?" he shouts, standing naked in a cold great hall, cock erect and throbbing.

She appears beside him, dressed in her guard tunic and breeches. "Here I am, Domic. I'm alright. Do you want to be...closer?" she says, biting her lower lip as she takes off her tunic.

{endif}“Guuh!” Domic gasps himself awake in bed, morning wood throbbing. Light is just beginning to make itself known through the windows. He rolls out of bed, splashes some water on his face, and stops. "Where's the pain in my shoulder?" he thinks. He leans forward to get a good view of his wound. There is none, just a light blue smear. "Healed that quickly?" he thinks, as he gets dressed in brown woolen breeches, a long-sleeved tunic, and a leather jerkin, before pulling on his socks and boots. He goes to Izabel’s door, knocks, and slowly opens it to reveal her dark room.

“Izabel?”

“Muh, Domic? Are you leaving?” her voice sails out of the gloom of the room.

“Yes, don’t get up, it’s still early,” he says, slowly crossing over to her bed. "Izabel, what was in that mush? I'm healed already," he says. But just she sits up, an indistinct shape in the dark.

“Hug me,” her arms reach out and they embrace tightly.{if Izabel **** = 1} He can tell she wears a light silk shift, feeling little heavier than mist. “How much would I see in the light?” the thought pops up in his mind.{else} She wears a heavy woolen shift, for the coming cold nights.{endif}

“Promise me,” she whispers in his ear. “Promise me you’ll be safe, that you’ll come back to me. You're so important to me.”

“I promise Izabel.”

“Good. I love you,” she says.

“I love you too,” he says, kissing her cheek and leaving.