There's going to be two of these - I still don't really know what to call them, alternative to tragedy? - stories in a row since I missed the one in November. The next one will be posted on Wednesday evening (UK) so there's still time for the other story I missed in November next week and the two holiday ones at the end of December.

Anyway, enjoy!

One must always make amends for their mistakes, even if it requires them taking a life.

A Life Worth Taking

"None of yer potions or bandages will patch ye up when I'm done with ye!" A look of unshakable fury on his face, Miguel held a spear in either hand as he ran at Alfyn, screaming so loud it frightened the local, monstrous fauna away. Screaming so loud it shook Alfyn to his very core as he parried the first spear and dodged to the side of the second.

Not much of a fighter, Alfyn knew he was outmatched against a lying, murderous thief, a man who had lied about everything but being a mercenary who'd killed over a hundred soldiers. He also knew this was all his fault. If only he'd listened to Ogen, if only he hadn't tried to save the life of one who – by all accounts but Miguel's own – didn't deserve to live any longer in the first place.

Now he was going to have to make things right. And quick, if he wanted any chance of saving young Tim.

Still, he was a healer, a man of potions not weapons. He stood no chance against Miguel as he raised one spear high and held another low, one to knock Alfyn's feet out from under him and another to skewer him as he fell. He could try to run, to dodge to the side with split second accuracy. Or he could concede, admit that he'd made one mistake too many, that he'd damned this entire town and practically killed a boy.

"Heh, yer quick, aint ye?" Miguel laughed, watching as Alfyn held his axe out protectively in front of him. "Still, yer no match fer-"

Suddenly the air was full of a bright, bright powdery light, a concoction that seeped right through Miguel's bandages and into his wounds.

"What the-" The fighter sneezed, trying to shake the powder off. "Did ye do this?!"

Alfyn had to admit, it looked like one of his concoctions… But, he hadn't made it, much less thrown it towards Miguel.

Before he could answer, a potion bottle flew from behind him, landing square in Miguel's face. Glass broke over his nose, piercing into his eyes as the gelatinous, black liquid in the bottle ran freely across his face, solidifying as it entered the cuts from the glass. Not watching as Miguel screamed in agony, dropping both his spears as he clawed at the liquid potion, Alfyn turned in his place and watched as Ogen pulled another bottle from his satchel.

"Ogen!" Alfyn exclaimed in both relief and confusion. There had been no reason for him to come, no reason for him protect him. In fact, if he was following his own creed, he should have left Alfyn to die – he'd let a man live who shouldn't have, after all. So why was he here? "Why are you-"

"Shut up and grab the spears." Ogen said seriously, working apothecarial magic to freeze the new potion in his hand before he threw it in Miguel's direction.

With no room for arguments nor questions in his tone, Alfyn followed his orders, immediately grabbing the dropped spears as Miguel spat out some of the previous potion.

"Feh. Fightin' dirty, are ye?" He raised his fists, still not beaten down. "I can beat the both o' ye without me spears, yer jus' 'pothecaries, after all."

Ogen said nothing as he threw the next potion in his direction. Since Miguel was watching as Ogen threw the frozen bottle, it should have been easy enough for him to avoid it. Instead, however, he went to kick it back at them and the minute his foot made contact with the icy bottle, it froze itself. Then, as the ice thawed and the bottle broke over his foot, a liquid fire started to climb up his frostbitten leg.

Screaming, Miguel fell to the floor, clutching at his leg as he struggled to put the fire out.

"How did you learn-" Alfyn asked, shocked that an apothecary would use their talents to make such dangerous, deadly potions, scared of what the older man by his side would do if he deemed him not worthy of living any longer.

"Fix your mistake, Alfyn." Ogen ordered, taking Miguel's spears from him and nodding in the direction of the burning man.

"I-I..." Clutching his axe tight in his hand, Alfyn knew he was right. He'd made the mistake, he'd saved Miguel's life and it was up to him to fix it. But he'd never killed a man, never taken a life.

"The boy's dying, Alfyn. Are you going to stand by and let that happen?"

Squeezing his eyes tightly closed as he braced himself, Alfyn let out a single breath as he raised his head once again. Miguel couldn't be allowed to live a second longer.

"S-save me, Alfyn!" He pleaded as the apothecary raised his axe. "I-I got four-three! Mouths t' feed! I-I got more gold than ye'll ever see! I-I!"

Finally he was silent, a single blow to the chest from Alfyn's axe severing the ties to this world that he'd spent all day trying to reconnect. A stark reminder for the apothecary that, no matter how much he laboured, how hard he tried to heal, life could be taken far quicker than it could be given.

With not a second more to waste on the dead and gone, Alfyn immediately turned to the dying boy, doing all that he could to make him comfortable as he started to mix salves.

"Ogen." Alfyn called to the other apothecary as he stared to leave the clearing. "Why did you come?"

"The boy didn't deserve to die because of a novice's mistake." He said simply, not callous nor rude, just stating a fact. "I came to make sure he lived."

"And me?" Alfyn couldn't help but ask. Did he deserve to live, to continue to heal now that his hands were stained red? Did he deserve to choose who should live and who should die when the last time he'd made that decision a murderer had almost struck again? "If you'd happened upon me dyin' here, would you've healed me? Is my life worth savin'?"

Ogen was silent for a moment, watching as Alfyn worked as hard as he could to save the boy from slipping even deeper into the darkness. "...Only time will tell."

Alfyn sighed as Ogen started to walk away, another vague answer left to eat at his spirit as he tried to figure out what was next for him, whether he should stay on this path or move to another. Another thought to distract him as he tried his damnedest to save the life of the innocent boy before him.