At first Iridian wasn't too pleased with Phile's idea to witness the healing process in case Flynn sprouted devil wings and began breathing fire. The image of the possibility, however, was enough to scare him as to the fate of Ley if the stranger indeed underwent a demonic transformation. His morning shift as guard would have to wait. Much as he hated to interfere with his assigned schedule, he knew the appearance of a Rift was a primary concern. Which cannot excuse your five minute tardiness in the morning jog, you didn't knwo about the Rift then.
The soldier watched the priestess at work attentively. He was impressed by the soothing quality he detected in her voice, feature that had not been present when she'd berated Kai. As Phile kept analyzing Flynn, suddenly he took a step back, eyes wide open in surprise. The priestess' fingertips were glowing. Iridian had never seen magic at work from such a small distance. It was mesmerizing.
He had never taken part in an actual battle, with what still being a squire and the war ending before he was born, and his injuries from training drills he had either ignored until they went away or he had treated himself with the basic first aid knowledge he'd been taught in the army. Irid had never had the need to go to a member of the clergy to tend his wounds and this first encounter with healing magics was astounding, if a bit unnerving as well. He'd never been witness the other kind of magic at work either, the kind folks at the Arcane University deal with. Those mages had zero necessity to make an appearance in the Military Quarter of Kalistos and, as far as older soldiers had told him, they much preferred pouring over old tomes in the university. The thought prompted him to glance at Jacia but he glanced away as fast as the memory of the embarrassing moment they'd shared instants ago bloomed in his mind once more. His cheeks slightly red once more.
Kai Silverwood took his mind off that soon enough as he burst through the front doors of the abbey, echoing his previous call to the priestess. His tone of voice was not quite right however...
Whatever Iridian's initial reaction to seeing Kai once more might have been was forgotten as the guard's pupils found the sickly red wound on the farmhand's shoulder. The mark of an arrow. It didn't make sense, the boy was supposed to be having breakfast at the Abbey's dining hall, not bursting, wounded, through its front entrance. "Silverwood, what happened?" Worry was thick in his voice as he made his way to the doors, ready to help Kai steady himself. A villager had gotten hurt on his shift. By an arrow. Stray thoughts in his head were scolding him. He should've been on guard duty, not escorting someone as harmless as Flynn. The thoughts tuned out the clopping sound that rose steadily.
As Iridian took hold of Kai, however, he saw the view outside the abbey's doors. A few horsemen had surrounded the village, cutting it off from the fields and woods, handfuls of foot soldiers had arrived at the farthest buildings and were clearly pillaging and the buzz of arrows being shot unharmoniously filled the air. Ley was under attack. The first scream rang out.
"Ley is under attack..." and as he said it the truth of it pushed him into action, the soldier made his way from the abbey, Kai and his wound forgotten behind Irid's footprints. He ran towards the first villagers he saw, all the while trying to seize up the enemy. The Eagle of Gar flew ferocious on the banner carried by some horsemen. The soldiers were not in battle formation, surely because Ley was a small village... easy game.
Two women, a man and his child were cowering behind Sir Cole's girth, the old soldier unable to speak his usual, comforting words. Well before Irid reached them he yelled, "To the abbey! Go to the abbey!" The villagers hesitated for a moment before obeying. They abbey was a big building, it had a gate, and it was made primarily of stone. They wouldn't be able to light the place on fire easily, the soldier thought grimly, remembering the fire arrows that he'd seen moments ago.
"Sir Cole, go to the barracks and wake the other guards!" It wasn't his place to command older soldiers, but the fear in Cole's eyes had clearly driven all senses from the man. In fact, he seemed glad to suddenly have orders to follow. "Tell any villagers you meet to take refuge in the abbey!"
Irid's balled the fist that held his lance until they were white. This was the moment to prove himself. To defend Akhar and its citizens. All his life he'd trained in case something like this happened. He felt adrenaline pumping through his veins like cold, tiny spiders. The soldiers from Gar had not reached the abbey yet. A few villagers that'd heard his shout had. Iridian stood before the building, under the gaze of the statue of Sol, and assumed a battle stance.
A first soldier came out from behind Old Gladys' bakery armed with a sword. The Eagle on the man's uniform had a wicked eye on Iridian. The man came at Irid but the butt of the squire's lance met the enemy's head before he was in reach of the sword. It sent him sprawling to the ground, where Iridian seized the opportunity to drive the spearhead into the man's gut. The cold spiders crawled throughout Iridian's body.
So this was what the fever of battle was like.