The Healer

I'm actually kind of proud of this one, it's about a man who goes to see a healer after magic is outlawed.

     Alion looked at the small, unassuming straw hut. He was hopeful that this would finally be the place he was searching for, but he didn't dare get his hopes up. Ever since magic was outlawed thirty years ago, finding a good healer had been an underground activity that continued to be increasingly difficult.

He had been searching for a healer ever since he had begun to cough blood, two years earlier. The local herbalist tried to heal him, yet it was to no avail, it was sheer power of will that had kept him alive up until this point. He smiled inwardly, thinking of the smiles that he would finally be able to go home to if this healing worked.

      When he approached, he noticed a foul odor coming from somewhere nearby, a good sign, as true magic always had a sulfurous odor. He noticed that there was no door, simply a wall of vertically laid dried straw that he assumed was there for privacy purposes. He knocked on the wall.

      “Just a moment,” came a voice from within. The voice was deep and smoothly reassuring, as if it contained ages of ancient wisdom.

      He walked over to a tree and sat down, feeling a renewed wave of exhaustion wash over him from the trip and the ailment he suffered. He sat there for what felt like hours, drifting back and forth between a hazy dream state and brief moments of awareness to check the state of the hut. After a particularly long stretch of sleeping, he awoke and looked at the position of the sun to gauge the time. He judged that it had been about three hours, but he didn't want to rush the healer and risk offending him.

      After a few more minutes of waiting he heard a yell of pure joy come from within the tent and he stood, feeling his hopes raise yet again. Could this be it? He wondered. He was young, at twenty seven and he still had so many things that he wished to do with the rest of his life. He had been thrilled with stories of adventurers since he had been a child, and he still wished to do something great, something that would make his daughter and wife proud of him.

      Two men walked out of the tent, speaking to each other. One, a man with long curly hair and a knights breastplate, was speaking animatedly, “thank you! I don't know what I can ever do to thank you!”

      “If you want to thank me, simply live; fight the good fight and make the best of the gift that I have given you,” replied the man with the smooth voice. Alion assumed from the long forest green robes, the hair and beard braided with several symbols, and the general aura of power that the man gave off, that he was the healer.

      “I shall do as you say! If you ever need anything from me, simply alert me, no matter the circumstance I will aid you. You have my word as a knight of the house of Callarand.”

      “You honor me sir knight,” the healer replied, nodding his head. “I must go to my next patient, may your days be plentiful.”

       “And yours,” replied the knight, whistling for a horse then mounting it when it approached.

       The healer looked to Alion, sizing him up with amber colored eyes, that couldn't possibly miss any detail. “Blood in your cough.”

       “Yes,” Alion replied.

       “It wasn't a question, come I would treat you before it progresses beyond my abilities,” he helped Alion up and the walked into the hut.

        As they crossed the threshold he asked the healer, “What of payment? I brought all the money that I can spare, without starving my family.”

       “Take a stone,” replied the healer pointing to a wicker basket next to two cushions set up in the middle of the hut.

      He had faith in the healer by this point, and had no wish to press the subject of payment, so he sat on one of the cushions and took a stone from the basket. It was smooth and black, with two parallel lines that were connected by another slanted line. “Is this one alright?”

      The healer grabbed a jar with what looked like concentrated darkness and a ferret body, that had been hanging from the ceiling before. He sat slowly then said, “yes, that is the stone that I thought you'd pick. Hold it in your left hand and don't drop it, it is essential to the healing process.”

      “Very well.”

      “Now, relax your body,” the healer cut along the ferret, pulling out its heart, then he used a mortar and pestle to mix it with the black substance, which Alion now realized was a power. Once satisfied, he poured the dark soupy result onto a table between them and mumbled.

Alion tried to relax, but the liquid lit on fire with white hot intensity, sending waves of the sulfur smell of magic through the air.

      “Keep calm. My remedies do not heal the body directly, they heal the soul, which in turn heals the body,” the healer closed his eyes and began to hum a deep resonating tune between his words.

      “But I didn't think my soul was damaged? I've only had physical ailments.” Alion tried to breath deeply between words to relax his body, noting that it was beginning to work as his muscles began to relax and feel heavy.

      “Everyone's who has ever experienced a hardship has a damaged soul, the more events effect you the more susceptible you are to afflictions of the body.”

      “I see,” Alion thought of his parents' death when he was young and understood what had caused his affliction. He creased his brow, feeling his head begin to fog over with a cloud of exhaustion and something different, something that seemed to be suppressing his thoughts. “I... is something wrong? I feel rather strange.”

      “No nothing is wrong, the magic is doing its job.” The healer stopped humming and opened his eyes; they were no longer amber, but a lightning blue. “You have great potential, your future could be the most important I've seen to date, young one.”

      Alion felt joy as the man's words affirmed his dreams for the future, yet he said nothing of them, not wanting to hold the healing process.

      The healer smiled, though there was a wicked element to it the stung Alion with fear. Alion tried to adjust his sitting position, but he realized that he could not move his body. It felt as if he was being separated from it as he sat, with no control over anything save his head. “What's going on? Is this normal?”

      “Yes for one such as you, it is. You see you are important to the future, and you would be a great adventurer, but I have a much better purpose for you.”

      “Wha-”

      The healer put up a hand, stopping Alion's ability to speak, he could still move his mouth, though no words came out.

      “You see, to heal a soul, one first needs to acquire a soul with great potential. That stone you took has been locking away your soul since the moment you picked it up,” the healers' voice had grown into something demonic, with multiple pitches fighting to be heard when he spoke.

      Alion struggled as hard as he could to move, yet his invisible bonds held him too tightly. His stomach was knotted with horror as he was forced to listen to the “healer” brag about his treachery.

      “With someone like you, I could heal an entire army, such as the man who was here moments ago, I saw his potential as well. In a few years time, he will become a tyrant king, at which point I shall call in his favor, along with others of those I've gathered over the years, and I will have my revenge. You mortals slaughtered my kind, simply because magic requires sacrifice, and I was forced to hide! Me the greatest warlock in history, forced to flee from you pathetic mortals! That's like a bear bowing to a salmon!”

      Alion could feel his consciousness fading as he clawed at the invisible binds holding him prisoner in his head.

      “You will give me the power to stomp your kind under my boot like the insects you are! Alas I am not unkind though, your families deaths' will be quick.” He finished, as he stood and began to laugh; a terrible sound which filled Alion to the brim with screaming horror and an unrelenting rage at the man.

       Alion felt the last wisps of his consciousness fade away as he cried inwardly for the family which he left behind. Then he was in the dark trapped with no light or physical presence, and all he could hear was that damned laughter.

Author's Note

First draft, any opinions welcome, as always.

Reviews

[A.R. Elvira]

Loved this draft, particularly because the ending wasn't a happy one (unless you plan to continue this story into something bigger which i would encourage!). You may want to think about some of the dialouge, i personally find some of it a little unbelievable. For example when Alion tells th "healer" that he wishes to be an adventurer, it just seems a little rich for him to be admitting his life dreams to a stranger. Could do with a little more detail but this will be worked out with further drafting. Very engaging, you are a great writter, wasn't bored for a second, interested to see more.

[NoblePariah]

Thank you, I do think that this was the end of this story, though I may write more that take place in this realm. Thanks for pointing out the dialogue issues, I'll work on that, possibly changing some of it to italisized thoughts that the healer reads against Alion's will, and I will be sure to add more detail when I revise, set up the world and the scene a bit better. Thank you again for reading, glad you enjoyed the story.