Chapter 7: The Healer

A mother walked out of the clinic that morning with a toddler freshly recovered from a horrible fall. The healer did not look twice as they left. The mother, a young woman with black hair, couldn't pay the fee she had been told he charged, and tried to compensate another way, but he simply sent her off. No returned flirtation, no bill, just a little boy without the bruises and broken bones he had sustained the night before.

That afternoon, a farmer was brought in limping on the shoulder of one of his sons, a trap set out for wolves having instead caught him by surprise in the dark hours of the morning. The deep wounds in his leg were closed, and the farmer left shortly after with little but an unpleasant memory and a newfound resolve to sleep in a bit later. His payment was a basket of eggplants.

Shortly after that, an elf with a similar shade of dirty blonde hair visited his clinic, not needing medical assistance. She led him to the back room where he kept his cot, removed her silver and blue uniform marking her as a Grey Warden, and lay down. The healer took these dalliances as routine now, and both he and the elf only showed pleasure during the act itself.

Shortly after the elven Warden left, one last patient entered the clinic. A little girl with short black pigtails and a dirty brown smock wandered in quietly, looking grim and holding a wicker basket.

"Serah?" she said, barely a mutter. The healer nodded. "I know you're only supposed to be a doctor for humans, but can you please help?"

The child set the basket down, and opened it. The healer approached and examined its contents, a dirty, brown-furred field cat with a large gash in its side. There was enough dried blood caked onto the fur that it was clear the cat had sustained the wound at least two or three hours ago.

"He hunts rats near my house," the little girl said. "I think a dog bit him."

"Dogs are stupid, aren't they?" The healer said softly. The girl nodded. "Here, let's make your friend better, shall we?"

The little girl suddenly smiled, and for the first time that day, so did the healer. He lifted the basket onto an examining table, and with the utmost care reached in and retrieved the injured animal.

"This isn't a bite mark," he said. "So don't go kicking any neighbor dogs tonight, not for this at least. Was it hunting near any farming equipment? It looks like the poor thing just got caught on something sharp."

The healer concentrated on the injured cat, who was breathing slowly. He took a deep breath, and placed his hands over the animal. An aura of blue light emanated from his hands, and slowly enveloped the cat. The cat mewed weakly, and its wound slowly closed. Veins and muscle mended, then skin came back together. The cat shrieked, then started to purr calmly.

"Is he better?" the girl asked. The healer smiled and nodded.

"Give him a minute to rest," he said. "Then take him home just as gently as you brought him. He'll still be weak. Give him a bath and make sure nothing pointy is laying about where he likes to hunt."

"Thank you!" the girl shouted, rushing forward and hugging the healer. "I don't have any coins to pay you because mommy was still at the market when I left, but I brought a flower I found. Thank you for making King Meowthur better! That's his name that I gave him."

"King Meowthur?" The healer asked. "I like it. But you said your mother wasn't home? She just left you alone and doesn't know you're gone? She must be worried sick!"

"I know, but King Meowthur was going to die if I didn't get him help, and everyone says you keep people from dying and-"

"That's quite alright," the healer said. "But it's getting dark. Why don't I take you home?"

"Okay," the girl said, cradling the cat before returning him to the basket. "The road is scary anyway. I saw these two people walking on my way here, and they had the biggest dog I ever saw! I'm Jessica, by the way. What's your name?"

"Just…" the healer paused. "Call me Anders."

It wasn't, by the healer's estimation, a long walk. About half an hour from his clinic by the outer wall of Vigil's Keep. The child's mother was understandably furious that she had run off without telling anyone, and made no effort to hide her gratitude to the man who returned her. He had foregone the staff that let the world know he was a mage, but his dress, a silver and blue uniform of the Grey Wardens, was assurance enough to anyone on the road that he wasn't to be trifled with, and was also enough to convince the child's mother that he was honest. She hurriedly gave him a small bag of muffins as thanks and sent him on his way.

Anders had one of the muffins half eaten in his hand when he returned to Vigil's Keep. A Mabari warhound was chained to a post inside the wall. Anders gave it a quick glance, thinking something seemed familiar about the dog. It eyed him in return, then, as he walked past, started barking.

"No," Anders muttered, quickly glancing behind. "No way in hell. Just a big dog, and all big dogs are annoying."

The Mabari stopped barking as Anders walked on, and started to whimper. Anders hurried to the door of the main hall.

"Hush now, boy!" came a voice Anders hadn't heard in a few years. He didn't bother to look back and confirm that it was him. It didn't matter, he knew they weren't there for him. They shouldn't even know he was there.

He hurried through the hall, moving quickly and quietly, only stopping to pick up a tray of food to take back to the shack where he made his clinic. This was, like most of the events of his day, routine, and nobody paid him any mind. Even Velanna, the elf, fellow mage, and daily visitor, gave him little more than a curt nod of her head. He assumed most people knew of their affair, and wasn't nearly as concerned with the likely snickers as was she.

What awaited in the clinic was different. Anders sat down his dinner, and the bag of pastries he'd acquired, and was, as usual, going to light a candle and waste away the night writing memoirs nobody would read.

"I take it you saw them?"

Anders jumped. The voice wasn't unusual, but the Warden Commander never came down to see Anders in his clinic. Even when in need of healing after a mission, Stroud simply sent for the master of spirit-healing magic to come to his quarters.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, trying to regain his composure.

"You are a bad liar, Anders," the Orlesian Warden said. He was seated in a waiting chair usually reserved for the relatives of patients. "I have two Wardens, and that armorer, Wade, swear you saw the Mabari, and must have walked right by Bethany Hawke's brother."

"No," Anders said, the calm calming back to his voice. "I saw a dog. I see lots of dogs. I also saw a cat today. I liked that better."

"They came to see Bethany," Stroud said. "But haven't asked about you. As Bethany is not here at the moment, I would be concerned."

"Hawke was never one for subterfuge," Anders said. "He tried his hand at it, but trust me, he prefers to hit things than trick them. And with Merrill around…"

"So you are certain they don't know of your presence at Vigil's Keep?" Stroud asked.

"Positive. It took some time to convince Bethany not to inform them, but she understands as well as anyone-"

"Understand this, Anders," Stroud said, standing up. "You, in spite of your issues, will always have a home with the Grey Wardens. But you promised me upon your return that you would not bring back the conflict you instigated in Kirkwall."

"I did not instigate it!" Anders snapped. "I reacted, yes. But I fought against oppression! There are dangers out there as great as the darkspawn, you know."

Stroud groaned.

"When did Bethany leave?"

"Just two days ago," Stroud said. "She didn't tell you? She's going to Kirkwall. Says another of your old friends called her back. Apparently her brother wasn't aware of this. He was quite upset."

"Well, I wouldn't expect to see him stopping in here," Anders said. "I promised that the conflict in Kirkwall was behind me, and I haven't made any effort to bring it here. Garrett Hawke does not know I'm here, and I prefer it that way. Nobody outside of a five-mile radius of the Keep should ever know who I am."

Stroud left shortly after, and Anders could only stare at the blank piece of parchment he had been planning to write on. He ate his dinner and blew out his lights quickly. Even though he had narrowly avoided such a figure from his past, sleep was not going to come easy tonight.