The medical tent smelled like blood and healing herbs.
Leo sat on a cot while a healer examined his shoulder, which bruised badly where debris had struck him in the tunnel.
"You're lucky," the healer said, wrapping it with practiced efficiency. "Seen worse tonight. Much worse."
Leo nodded, not knowing what to say to that.
Across the tent, maybe ten feet away, the elf rested on another cot, a different healer worked on her, checking for injuries, giving her water.
She looked exhausted, the wounded students they'd carried were being treated more intensively, deeper in the tent, serious injuries that required focus, without the elf's healing which kept them alive, they'd be long dead, but they'd live, all four of them, because of her.
The healer finished with Leo's shoulder, moved on to the next patient, a young imperial soldier approached with a clipboard.
"Name?"
"Leo Arkin."
The soldier wrote it down. "Where were you during the attack?"
