It was almost a week before I was fully healed, I told Numen about the reason behind my wounds after she pestered me for the fifteenth time. She and Qent forced me into bedrest during the time, and as a consequence no one in the guild was any the wiser that their ‘Masked’ had been injured at all. The Aerathi, true to their word, forged peace talks between the races, easing fractured civilizations whole again.
Qent was officially ‘graduated’ a short while after, presumably because if fighting a demonic war on the frontlines and winning didn’t qualify you nothing would. Frejr stopped taking on their apprentices directly, instead managing to somehow negotiate Qent as an instructor for them to be sent directly to the guild, earning Rince’s disbelief and Numen’s further respect.
While I was cautious about admitting it, it was hard to deny the stabilizing effect the irregulars were having on the rural countryside. Most people trusted us not to be involved in border politics, it seemed that my little stint with Cale and the Republic was considered giving them their due. In fact, a few weeks later Cale and his team apparently managed to make quite the name for themselves, bringing down the leading members of the Council. Some whispered of shady deals and dark dealings with others that worked in shadow, but at least from what I could tell, it was a move to the better.