I Need Healing

Ignatius ran through the streets of Karakura, carrying a barely conscious Rubedo on his back, panting hard. He’d never run so hard in his life, but at the same time he’d never been carrying his friend on his back either. If he’d known that Rubedo had been in so much danger then he’d have followed the man before he’d gone looking for what had caused it. He was so confused. Where in the hell had those damn hollows come from? Why in the hell hadn’t Rubedo waited for him, sent him a text, something?! He snarled and cursed under his breath as he ran.

“Goddammit, Rubedo. Why in the hell didn’t you wait for me, or listen to me?!” There was concern in his voice as he shouted at the man that was on his back. He hated what he was doing. He had heard of a quincy in Karakura town that could heal and knew that was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do. Be in the debt of another quincy, while on a mission for his lord. “Rubedo, for what we’re about to do you are going to owe me SO much for! I just wonder what the hell they’re going to want in return for helping you…”

The moment that the door to the hotel opened Ignatius went running inside and demanded to know if there was a Nyla and where her room was. The moment that he was told he raced to the elevator and practically slammed the button. Up the elevator went, Ignatius swearing, cursing and angry the whole time. He ran to the door that he’d been told and knocked on it a few times.

“Excuse me, Ms Nyla, are you there?! I know that it’s late and I apologize, but I’ve got someone who’s horribly injured and needs medical attention immediately!” Ignatius hoped that she was in, she was probably the only person that could help Rubedo. “Please be in…” he whispered.

Rubedo’s vision was fading in and out as he tried to hang onto consciousness while losing blood from the scratch wounds the Flocks had inflicted him with. He could vaguely understand his friend’s angry shouts though he had a guess Iggy was not happy with him as he heard his name a couple of times in a slew of curse words. He had been foolish to take on a murder of crows in the region all by himself while making his friend scout for the source of the Hollow bait, perhaps he was indeed out of practice in training, too.

They came upon a small room? Something of an elevator and meeting another Quincy. Things were getting way too blurry now and hard to keep focus on what Ignatius was yammering about. He finally let his eyes close, hopefully he could get some rest by the time they had met their target.

Nyla currently lay partially submerged in the bubble-layered water of her tub in her hotel room. The recent "summit" of the Quincy had given her quite a bit to think about. She herself already had very little, if any, fear of the Shinigami, but now they would be bringing the fight to their home realm. A part of her felt a certain amount of vindication at the idea that she would be able to destroy Shinigami in their home like they had did for her centuries before. Of course, that wasn't the most important task that needed to be accomplished, more so it was a personal endeavor. It would be up to her to come up with the method to counteract the supposed poison that the Shinigami possessed.

And she had the perfect idea as to how she would accomplish that task.

The exact date as to when they would be infiltrating the Shinigami's realm hadn't been decided just yet. Irvine, the only other Quincy at the meeting that was perhaps older than thirty, had volunteered to provide the group passage. For a majority of the meeting, he had been relatively silent and stayed in the background. Although initially he had appeared nervous, likely from public speaking anxiety, his initiative to providing passage had surprised her and made up for it. She herself had in mind to volunteer the island monastery as a base of operations for the Quincy, but she had held back from voicing that idea; she was still unsure as to whether all of the Quincy could be trusted with that location and the wealth of information held therein.

The sound of water being displaced drifted through the air as Nyla raised a hand from beneath the surface and peered at her palm. Black mist trailed from her hand, evaporating the droplets of water upon it. A moment later, a faint emblem pulsed upon her palm then faded; it was a reminder of who had gifted her with her supernatural longevity. As it turned out, that would also be how she would deal with the supposed poison. Nyla sighed and lowered her hand, laying her head back against the tub and closing her eyes.

Attempting to relax and consider the best course of action, Nyla retreated into her thoughts. Before she could actually make any progress, however, an incessant and erratic banging jarred her from her thoughts. Her eyes shot open and she angled her head towards the door just as an unknown voice called out to her. She hadn't been expecting any visitors, and only a small handful of people actually knew how to contact her anyway. The fact that whoever this person was continued to bang on the door the way they did altogether shattered any semblance of relaxation she might have had and immediately soured her mood.

Even as she exited the tub and made herself more presentable with wearing appropriate loungewear, the banging continued. Whoever this person was apparently really needed assistance but had no concept of good manners. In a fluid process she crossed the room to the door and flung it open, a stern glare peering at the young man that stood before her.

"Wat ya waan? Why yuh beat pon mi door dat? Yuh tek mi eediat? Who yuh---" In the midst of her berating, she noticed that the young man actually carried another young man on his back, the latter of which seemed to be gravely injured. Seeing the injured young man coupled with the other's harried appearance served to dissuade her annoyance at least a little.

"What happened to your friend, boy? How do you know me and how did you know where to find me?" As she questioned him, she stepped aside and gestured for him to enter, pointing towards the nearby sofa.

"Lay your friend down there and tell me what happened. Be quick about it, child."

{Translation: What do you want? Why are you banging on my door like that? Do you think I'm stupid? Who are you?}

Ignatius could feel Rubedo barely conscious as they waited for the woman, he didn’t know her name, but had been told by others that she was trustworthy and good at healing. He despised asking for assistance and was already frowning at the thought of what she’d want in return for her aid. They didn’t have a lot, was the problem, with him having used the last of his ginto during the combat against the murder of crows. Still, they’d have to make due and he’d find whatever it was that she wanted.

When she finally did answer the door, however, Ignatius couldn’t deny that what he saw wasn’t what he was expecting, though he did admit that the quincy had been forced to adapt to the times. For a moment, in his panic, he wasn’t entirely sure what she was asking him, though his mind quickly caught up. “I hope that you don’t think me rude,” he began, “and I apologize for how late I am in coming to meet with you, but my name is Ignatius Solomon.” He looked around a few times. “I’m one of the vassals for Lord Wagner of the Wagner family in Frankfurt. My friend and I are on a mission that has brought us to Karakura where, during the use of the quincy bait, not too long ago, my friend got into a fight with a dangerous hollow. He’s in critical condition and I’d heard a rumor of someone who was good at healing.” He had already sat Rubedo down on the couch, while talking. “The information wasn’t cheap either, I traded my family’s last custom seele schneider. He…needs to more in depth healing than I have skill for, and I’m hesitant to take him to a hospital.”

“Whatever kind of payment you require to assist him, I’m willing to see it through. You are difficult to find, after all. My father was against me coming to you for aid, but you’re the best healer in the area.” He sighed a bit and watched her, hoping that her countenance wouldn’t contort into rage at having been found. He always wished that he’d found someone else, but very few truly understood the needs of the quincy, and this was someone Ignatius could rely on.