Sizzle, sizzle
It was easy to lie to the Keeper as I covered in fur blankets, even in my half fever state I knew I had to lie my arse off. Really, she wouldn't believe what really happened. The few others that were in her aravel leaned forward as the Keeper steadily dapped my forehead with a cold rag.
I felt the pull of magic. Didn't think to call anyone, was just curious. They woke up a bear, I was closer. When they found out I was a mage they attacked, so I killed them. Okay I omitted a lot of details, but the truth was in the pudding—or whatever the saying would be. Truly, who had pudding? Weird shemlens and flat ears, that's who.
"It'll take a long time for them to heal." The Keeper murmured as she inspected her stitch work, which poked out of my skin like small swollen worms. It didn't help that my skin was puckered, swollen and red either.
"Alright." I whispered, trying to barely move my lips. It was strange seeing this new broken me peak out of the only mirror the Keeper had. Angry slashes opened my right eyebrow, only the jerking I had reflexively done at the time saving my eye. The rest of that one continued over my eye, stopping a few inches afterwards.
The left side of my face was worse, two deep gores curling with and under my chubby cheek, and since it was swollen it looked even worse. Blue and black bruises accompanied the swelling, but my eyes lingered over my split lip. The Keeper had admitted my lip wouldn't be the same, since my mouth was split open, but she matched the sides perfectly so that the scar wouldn't be too bad.
"Da'len. . ." The Keeper's greying eye was trained on my chest, below my collar bone but above my heart. A strange marking from the Templar's steel fingers were risen like a burn mark there, half a sun with swirls. It would be pretty on anyone else, I guess.
"What is it?" My hand unconsciously hovered over it, my broken fingernails still had remains of blood that was mine, and not mine. My stomach churned as I remembered the Templar's blue eyes, the whites of her downturned eyes wide and bright, and her stubby eyelashes.
"The Templars, they must have tried to. . ." the Keeper looked away, her face clouded. "Tried to take away your magic. But you killed them before they would finish it . . . do, does it feel any different?" The Keeper wouldn't look me in the eye, her tired face sad.
"Not really. My magic is still there, but it is not as eager as before." I grudgingly admitted, wincing as my mouth started to burn again.
"Do you still feel connected to the Fade? Still see things?" The Keeper leaned forward, her hope painful. I gave a jerky nod, it was true even at this point I wish wasn't so connected. Her face relaxed, her greying eyes suddenly bright. She got up, the lack of weight rocking my cot back and forth. I watched the Keeper from under my eyelashes, my stomach tightening as she ran her fingers over my small dagger, the metal heating up and glowing.
"That is good da'len, so good. But no one must know that you could have been made Tranquil," The Keeper moved closer to me, her eyes still bright. "I won't be able to heal it as best I can because it needs to scar, but you mustn't make a noise."
"W-wait, no. I can stay covered, I promise." The Keeper plucked a discard rag, shoving it through my teeth and against my tongue. My heart thudded in my ears and I jerked away from her, but her hold was strong over my bruised shoulder.
"Shh, it'll be over soon." The Keeper whispered right before she placed the red hot dagger over the strange marking, the added pain searing my skin. Darkness dotted my vision, blinking in and out as steam and the scent of my burning flesh over powered my suddenly limp body.