To Heal a Healer('s Apprentice)

[thelisan]

3-10 Hazemoon, 2E 222

Wingbeats on the wind interrupt my thoughts, so I lay my new hematite mirror to rest and go to open a window. One of my crows bears a missive for me. He travels far afield, so people can wave him down to contact me. So he can be recognized as a messenger, he bears a purple cloth band around each leg. Years after the incident, he still walks with a slight limp on his right side, but he remains fond of travel.

"Thank you, Mercurio," I say, carefully taking the letter. I reach for a small pouch of peanuts, still in their shells, and put a few on the windowsill for him. He caws happily and sets to work on his treat, and I open the letter. My curiosity is replaced with some distress, and I call Melina and Lucinda in.

Melina arrives first, to no surprise; she was just outside reading. It takes a little longer for Lucinda to get there. "I apologize, Lady Suncrest, I was tending to the wargs," she explains.

"I'll certainly not begrudge you that," I say. "I'm gladdened that they've taken so well to you; they don't always appreciate a vampire's presence." She smiles at that, and my thoughts slip from me for a moment. Pulling myself back to the present, I explain, "I've been called to Hilltop. It's not far from Norvanfeld. If you would rather stay, I understand."

"I have to learn sometime," Melina replies, shaking her head.

"I think it's better if I'm there," Lucinda adds. "Remember when I warned you of the echoes at Norvanfeld? With where this is, you might need my help again." A point I couldn't argue against if I wanted to.

As we make ready for travel, I explain the petition. A young woman, apprentice to a local apothecary, has fallen ill. The people of Hilltop have pooled their resources to pay for my intervention; I'd not charge so much as they seem to expect, but it does tell me this girl is well-liked. I examine Melina's pack and nod approval; she is learning quickly how to pack efficiently.

Upon our arrival, I note that the roads and squares are all silent. Every door is closed. None of the villagers are working the fields, none of the children are at play. There is a fell wind in the windless air, a disquieting chill that sets me on edge. I search my mind for knowledge of the environs, in case I must flee. We reach the apothecary's doorstep, where the old healer greets us. "Thank you for hearing our petition, Lady Suncrest," he says. Something feels off in his tone, and I find myself scanning every shadow.

"Morgan will suffice for a fellow healer," I say, looking over his shelves. Medicinal herbs, of course, but there is scarcely a difference between boon and bane save for dosage. "Tell me of the patient."

"She's a helpful girl. Came to study under me after I cured a disease afflicting her father," he says. I search for signs of deception, but find none yet. "She'll disappear for days at a time, but then she returns with sacks full of herbs, roots, berries, sometimes old metal too. Any time someone needs help, she's there. Hunter found her collapsed in Old Hilltop, carried her back. She's been sleeping since, but with scarcely any rest. Just thrashing, groaning-" His explanation is cut off by a terrible keening, a woman screaming at a pitch so high I didn't think it possible. "And... and that," he sighs. "I've gotten barely a wink of sleep, but I know she has it worse."

He leads me to the room the patient is resting in and opens it. As soon as I open my mouth to speak, she leaps to her feet, grabs a coat rack, and lunges at me with a war cry. I'm able to redirect her into a corner so I can leave the room in peace, and the healer is all apologies. Insincere, I'm sure. "She's never done this, good witch, I swear it," he lies.

"That so?" I ask rhetorically. "Then why-" My argument is cut off by a door being struck, bashed, forced open.

A warrior bursts into the room, axe in hand and fury in his eyes. One of my men restrains him and I see in his face my greatest foe, the man who put our food stores to torch a tenday ago. I reach for my sword to finally put a rightful end to this villain, but for some reason it will not draw. An enemy soldier charges me in my moment of distraction, pushing me back into a wall. I hear my men calling my name, preparing to rush my attacker-

"-dy Suncrest?"

"Lady Suncrest!"

"Morgan!" I snap back to the present, shaking off the haze in my mind. Lucinda has me up against a wall, restraining me so... so I can't hurt anyone.  I look over the healer's home, and see Melina and the old healer fighting. Unarmed, thankfully. There's another man, a hunter from the look of him, collapsed on the ground with a woodsman's axe near but not quite in reach. "Melina! Melina Stillwater!" I shout. "I fought off that fool that thought you a vampire, took you as my apprentice!" That seems to restore her to self.  I continue, yelling to the healer, "Jameson Carver! Healer of Hilltop for three decades! You are not a warrior, you are a healer!" The old man comes back to his senses as well. The hunter stirs, reaching for his axe and trying to stagger to his feet.

Melina whispers something to Carver, who nods understanding. "Arvan, Arvan it's me, Carver. When you had that infected cut, you came to me for healing. You- You carried Cecilia back to me, remember?" His pleas are less forceful, but seem to do the job nonetheless.

"What... what happened here?" Carver asks, horrified.

"A traveler... echoes from Norvanfeld. They seem-" I swallow hard. "They seem to have come back with Arvan and Cecilia." I see the horror dawn in the healer's eyes, followed by despair as I confirm his suspicions. "This place is not safe," I warn, pulling a scroll from my pack. I set to work writing, explaining, "You need to leave, soon. Every single person in Hilltop. Move as a group, watch for any strange behavior. Call someone back to themselves if needed. Never move in groups of less than four." I stamp the scroll with my personal seal, a raven bearing a chalice, and hand it to Carver. "The nearest city that could help is likely Kingfisher Port. Introduce yourself as a healer and present this scroll to the manor guard. They should recognize the seal."

"But- What of Cecilia?" the healer asks.

"Her reaction to my presence has, now that I know what afflicts her, made it impossible for me to help her." Carvers eyes sink, but I continue, "No, listen closely. I cannot help her. But you can. She is in a far more dire state than the rest of us were, but she can be saved." I take a few tourmaline prisms from my pack and explain, "You have a few days where you should still be safe, now that you know what is happening. She needs to be surrounded by things she recognizes from her true life. You will work a wire cage around each of these, separately, and place them near the objects that remind her of herself."

"But I'm not a witch," Carver protests. Not indignantly, but in the way someone would say they do not know how to do something.

"You don't need to be. These are already prepared, I keep them on hand for this sort of thing. It just... usually doesn't afflict me so readily..." I trail off, frustrated with myself for my failure. "Thank you, dear Lucinda, for being there to pull me back."

"Always," she replies. One word that will float around in my mind for moons to come...