Weaves of Ashes

Chapter 98: Chapter 93: Medicine and Miracles

Location: Yinxin’s Cave

Time: Day 511 | Telia: Day 2

Realm: Telia (Feudal World)

Jayde’s heart stopped.

Shenxin lay motionless in her hands, the glowing potion still coating his tiny throat. Too still. Way too still.

Vitals check. Pulse. Breathing. Now.

She pressed two fingers against his chest, just below where the silver scales met soft belly skin. There—faint, but there. A heartbeat. Slow but steady.

His ribs expanded. Shallow, but expanding.

(He’s breathing. He’s okay. He has to be okay.)

”The healing process can be painful initially,” she said quickly, keeping her voice calm even as adrenaline spiked through her system. ”The potion’s working. His body’s responding.”

She laid Shenxin down carefully on the softest patch of moss, then turned to Huaxin. The female wyrmling was barely breathing, her lavender-edged frill limp against her neck.

Second dose. Move fast. Every second counts.

Jayde uncapped the second intermediate healing potion, the medicinal scent sharp in the cave’s cool air. She lifted Huaxin’s tiny head, supporting it in her palm—so fragile, scales cool to the touch, like holding a piece of dying starlight.

”Easy now,” she murmured, tilting the potion to Huaxin’s small jaws. ”Just a little at a time. Don’t want you choking.”

The glowing liquid trickled down. Huaxin’s throat worked reflexively, swallowing. Good. That was good.

Jayde rubbed the wyrmling’s throat gently, stimulating the swallow reflex, making sure the potion went down properly. Her fingers moved in small circles, feeling the delicate muscles contract and release.

Come on. Take it. Let it work.

She laid Huaxin down next to Shenxin, both wyrmlings motionless now except for the faint rise and fall of their chests.

Then she waited.

Thirty seconds felt like thirty hours.

Yinxin’s golden eyes never left her children, wide and desperate and barely daring to hope. Tianxin pressed against her mother’s foreleg, whimpering softly—she knew something was wrong, even if she didn’t understand what.

[Jayde?] Reiko’s mental voice was small, worried.

[Give them time,] she sent back. [The potions need to work through their systems.]

Medical assessment: Intermediate healing potions designed for adults. Dosage appropriate but untested for wyrmling physiology. Uncertainty high. Probability of success... unknown.

(Please work. Please, please work.)

Sixty seconds.

Shenxin’s color shifted. Just barely, but Jayde caught it—the dull gray undertone to his silver scales lightening, warming, becoming more... alive.

Ninety seconds.

Huaxin’s breathing deepened. Still shallow, still weak, but definitely deeper than before.

”Their hearts are strengthening,” Jayde breathed, pressing fingers to each tiny chest again. ”Steady rhythm. Not erratic anymore.”

Two minutes.

The silver brightened noticeably now, like tarnished metal being polished. Both wyrmlings’ scales took on a faint luster they’d lacked before, the sheen of health instead of the dullness of approaching death.

”It’s working.” Jayde’s voice cracked. ”Yinxin, it’s working.”

[I see it,] the dragon whispered mentally, and her voice shook with suppressed emotion. [I see them coming back.]

***

Five minutes later, both wyrmlings were breathing steadily.

Not strongly. Not energetically. But steadily, with color in their scales and warmth returning to their tiny bodies.

Jayde sat back on her heels, tension bleeding out of her shoulders in a rush that left her light-headed.

(They’re going to make it. They’re actually going to make it.)

Tactical assessment: Crisis stabilized. Immediate threat of death averted. But recovery incomplete. Malnutrition remains critical factor.

Right. The potions handled the acute trauma—dehydration, organ stress, critical weakness. But these babies hadn’t eaten properly in days, maybe weeks. Their bodies were running on empty, reserves depleted, growth stunted.

”They need nutrition,” she said aloud, thinking through the problem. ”Real nutrition, not just magical healing. Their bodies need fuel to rebuild.”

[I have no milk,] Yinxin said quietly, pain threading through the words. [I am too starved myself to produce any. That is why they were dying.]

Jayde pulled meat from her spatial ring—preserved cuts from previous hunts on Doha, stored carefully. ”Can they eat this?”

[Not yet. Their digestive systems are too weak. Solid meat would make them sick, might even kill them if they cannot process it properly.]

Problem: Need easily digestible protein. High nutrition, low strain on compromised systems. Solution...

Jayde’s mind raced back through Federation medical training. Trauma patients. Malnutrition cases. What did they use when someone couldn’t handle solid food?

Liquid nutrition. Broth. Easily absorbed, gentle on the system, packed with nutrients if prepared correctly.

”What if I make a broth?” she asked. ”Cook the meat down completely, strain it smooth so there’s no chunks they could choke on. Add herbs for extra nutrition if I can find the right ones.”

Yinxin’s head lifted slightly, hope flickering. [That... that might work. I do not know. I have never heard of such a thing. But it might work.]

”Then let’s try it.”

***

Jayde moved to the cave entrance where smoke could vent properly, Reiko padding along beside her. She pulled out her cooking pot—standard contractor equipment, thank gods—and filled it with clean water from her supplies.

Then came the meat. She cut it into small cubes, working quickly but carefully. The chunks needed to be small enough to cook through completely, breaking down into something tender and easily digestible.

Into the pot they went, water covering everything by several inches.

She set the pot over a fire she built from gathered wood, feeding the flames carefully until they burned hot and steady. Then she settled in to wait, occasionally stirring, watching the meat slowly break down.

[What are you doing?] Reiko asked, fascinated. He’d never seen her cook like this before—their usual meals were quick affairs, roasted meat over open flame.

[Making medicine,] she sent back. [Food-medicine. For babies who can’t eat normal food yet.]

The smell filled the cave as the broth simmered—rich, meaty, savory. Tianxin perked up immediately, her little nose twitching. Even Yinxin’s eyes brightened at the scent of proper food.

Jayde let it cook for over an hour, until the meat fell apart at the slightest touch. Then she pulled the pot off the fire to cool slightly.

Now for the critical part.

She needed a strainer. Something fine enough to catch all the solid pieces but let the liquid through. She didn’t have cheesecloth or anything similar—this was a feudal world, and her contractor supplies focused on combat gear, not cooking equipment.

Improvise.

She pulled a spare piece of leather from her pack—clean, unused, from a previous hunt. Using her knife, she carefully poked small holes through it in a tight pattern. Not too big or chunks would get through. Not too small or nothing would pass.

She positioned the leather over a wooden bowl, securing it with strips of cord around the edges to hold it taut. A makeshift strainer, crude but functional.

Carefully, she poured the broth through.

The liquid came through golden and clear, steaming gently. The solid meat pieces caught in the leather, piling up. She used a clean rock to grind those pieces even finer, then strained them again, catching the newly released liquid.

What remained in the bowl was smooth, thick, nutritious broth with just the tiniest particles of meat suspended in it. Perfect for tiny, weak digestive systems.

Final touch.

She pulled out one of her intermediate healing potions and added a small amount to the broth—maybe a quarter of the bottle. Not enough to cause side effects, but enough to give the formula an extra boost of restorative magic.

The broth took on a faint golden glow.

”Baby formula,” Jayde said with satisfaction. ”Telia-style.”

***

Shenxin and Huaxin were stirring when she returned, tiny movements, weak but present.

Jayde knelt beside them with her bowl of broth and a spoon she’d cleaned thoroughly. ”Okay, little ones. Time to eat.”

She lifted Shenxin first, cradling his tiny body against her chest. He was so light, all bones under those silver scales. His golden-edged frill flickered weakly.

Careful. Slow. Don’t let him choke.

She brought the spoon to his mouth, just a small amount. ”Come on, baby. Just a little. You can do this.”

Shenxin’s jaws parted slightly. She tipped the broth in, barely a spoonful.

He swallowed.

Jayde’s heart soared.

”Good boy,” she whispered, stroking his head gently. ”That’s it. Another one.”

Spoonful by spoonful, she fed him. Slowly, patiently, letting him swallow properly between each bite. His throat worked more strongly with each swallow, the reflex growing steadier.

When he’d taken about half a cup, she stopped. Didn’t want to overwhelm his system.

She laid him down and picked up Huaxin, repeating the entire process. The female wyrmling was even weaker, her lavender-touched frill barely moving, but she managed to swallow the broth. Each spoonful a tiny victory.

[Will they be alright?] Yinxin asked, her massive head lowered to watch every movement.

”The broth is in their systems now,” Jayde said. ”We wait an hour, see if there’s any adverse reaction. If they handle it well, I’ll feed them again. And again. Every hour until they’re strong enough for more.”

Feeding schedule established. Monitor for complications. Adjust as needed.

”It’s going to be a long night,” she added. ”But I’ll stay with them.”

[I cannot... I do not know how to thank you.] Yinxin’s mental voice trembled. [You have done more for us in one day than I could have hoped for in a lifetime.]

”Thank me when they’re running around causing trouble,” Jayde said with a small smile. ”Right now, we’ve just started.”

***

While Jayde worked with the wyrmlings, something else was happening.

Tianxin—the healthy wyrmling, white-silver and full of energy—had been watching everything with intense curiosity. She’d seen Jayde tending her siblings, heard the gentle voice, smelled the delicious broth.

And she’d decided this human was interesting.

Very interesting.

She wobbled over on unsteady legs, her wings half-dragging behind her. At Jayde’s feet, she sat down and looked up, head tilted, making soft chirping sounds.

”Hey, Tianxin,” Jayde said, glancing down from where she was cleaning the cooking pot. ”You hungry too?”

The wyrmling chirped again, more insistently.

Jayde laughed softly and offered her a spoonful of broth. Tianxin devoured it immediately, her tiny tongue lapping up every drop, then chirped for more.

”Alright, alright. Just a little. You’re already healthy, don’t want to upset your stomach.”

After eating, Tianxin’s attention shifted.

To Reiko.

The shadowbeast had been lying near the fire, watching everything with quiet intensity. His silver eyes tracked every movement, protective instincts on full alert even though there was no threat here.

Tianxin padded over to him, wings flapping clumsily, and plopped down right against his side.

Reiko went very still. [Jayde? What do I do?]

[Let her settle,] Jayde sent back, amused. [She’s just curious.]

Tianxin made a happy cooing sound and tried to climb up Reiko’s back. Her little claws couldn’t quite grip his shadow-fur, and she kept sliding back down, which only made her more determined.

Reiko shifted carefully, lowering himself so she could scramble up more easily. Once on his back, Tianxin spread her tiny wings wide—like she was flying, even though her feet were planted firmly on shadowbeast-back.

She chirped triumphantly.

[She thinks I’m a mountain,] Reiko sent, his mental voice carrying both confusion and delight.

[She thinks you’re wonderful,] Jayde corrected. [Look at her.]

Tianxin was nuzzling Reiko’s ears, making happy sounds, completely content. When Reiko turned his head to look at her, she licked his nose with her tiny forked tongue.

The shadowbeast’s whole demeanor softened. [She’s so small.]

[And she already loves you.]

Yinxin watched the scene, and for the first time since Jayde had entered this cave, the ancient dragon smiled. Really smiled, not just a polite expression but genuine warmth and joy.

[A bond is forming,] she said softly. [Between your companion and my daughter. That is... rare. Precious.]

”Good friendships usually are,” Jayde said, watching Tianxin curl up on Reiko’s back like he was the most comfortable bed in the world. ”Reiko’s good with young ones. He’ll protect her.”

[I know he will.] Yinxin’s gaze moved from Tianxin to Shenxin and Huaxin, both resting quietly now with broth in their bellies. [You have given me something I thought I had lost forever.]

”What’s that?”

[Hope.]

The word hung in the air, simple and profound.

Yinxin’s golden eyes shimmered. ”I have been alone for so long. Hiding, surviving, watching my children starve because I could not provide for them. I thought... I thought this was the end. That I would watch them die, and then I would die, and that would be the last of my kind in this world.”

Her massive head lowered, exhaustion and emotion overwhelming ancient pride.

”But you came. With your strange magic and your dragon blood and your impossible kindness. You looked at my dying children and you did not turn away.”

[Because they’re children,] Jayde thought, but didn’t send. [Because I’ve seen too many children die and I have the power to stop it this time.]

”Thank you,” Yinxin whispered. ”I don’t know what to say. How to express what this means. But... thank you.”

Jayde looked at the three wyrmlings—two resting peacefully after their first meal, one curled on Reiko’s back making soft dreaming sounds. Three tiny lives hanging in the balance just hours ago. Three tiny lives that had a chance now.

(This is why I do this. Not for the merits or the missions or the power. For this.)

”Just rest,” she said gently. ”Let me help. That’s all you need to do right now.”

Yinxin’s eyes closed, relief and gratitude and bone-deep exhaustion finally winning over the desperate vigilance that had kept her going for so long.

Within minutes, the ancient dragon was asleep.

Jayde sat by the fire, watching her charges rest. In an hour, she’d need to feed the wyrmlings again. And again after that. All through the night if necessary.

But for now, this moment was enough.

A dragon mother sleeping peacefully for the first time in months. Three wyrmlings alive when they should be dead. A shadowbeast gently guarding a tiny dragon who’d claimed him as her mountain.

Hope, fragile but real, kindling in a cave that had known only despair.

”We’re going to be okay,” Jayde whispered to the sleeping dragons. ”All of us.”

And she believed it.