Zephyrion walked through their makeshift camp, Lumi by his side.
The clearing he'd chosen for the cadets wasn't nearly large enough to accommodate their numbers, so they'd felled trees to make room. With their elements back, such a thing had been easy.
Many cadets were injured, being tended to by others. He'd treated a few himself, resetting broken bones and jaws, and had watched his standing in the eyes of the cadets rise even further as the wounded thanked him.
The others had separated into multiple groups, each conversing loudly enough for their words to reach him.
Every conversation revolved around the same thing, him, and everything he'd done. Many exaggerated, while others simply praised his name. His delay inside the cavern had achieved exactly what he wanted. Every cadet now believed he'd remained behind to face the sanguine alone, sacrificing himself to ensure their escape.
