Disclaimer: Obvious, Routine and boring. Characters and setting are not mine.
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CONVERGANCE OF SURVIVAL: Chapter 3
Pasco was leaving from Yazmín Hebet's classes for the afternoon. Back cramping and legs aching, he was somehow feeling extremely vitalised. Yazmín was a fair teacher unless you crossed her and them she would land on you with both feet. It had been three years since Lady Sandrilene had recognised the distinct magical aura surrounding him and had decided to teach him its uses. Though he had managed to grow and develop his powers in that time, she still was the teacher and he the student. Her fame and renowned strength in the realm still awed him constantly.
Stepping away from the school and heading down Festival Street towards Fletcher Circle he fluently skipped and tapped a few simple steps before adding a small but elegant flourish. Instantly the warmth of his magic enclosed him and he grinned in delight. Recently, Sandry had allowed him to practise hie magic without her supervision and he was taking full advantage of his freedom. Abruptly, two figures approached him in a staggered rush. Pasco eyed them warily. They seemed ragged enough but even appearances could be deceiving, as he had realised with the unmagicking mage. As they pulled back their cloaks, he could see that they were both women and by the many scratches and bruises on their faces, they seemed to have undergone a great ordeal.
"Quick" screamed the younger slim girl, "take us to the nearest healer."
Her accent was so foreign that he immediately began feeling for the knives secured in his wrist sheathes. It was not that foreigners were not welcome but rather that recently, the border of Emelan had suffered mysterious raids. Rumours had warned of hooded soldiers, reinforced by mages leading the night strikes. Others had told of houses exploding into flames while attackers in strange armour pillaged every house in sight before simply melting away into the night. Obviously, skirmishes meant impending war and consequently spy infiltration was of major concern. Coming from a family of harriers who tolerated no crime, he was not about to leave them alive if they turned out to be part of the enemy's intelligence.
Slowly, the older women advanced slowly she was the defensive gleam in his eye. Pasco, even with his fair height advantage over her felt dominated by her presence and was extremely uncomfortable for it. The commanding eyes dared him to question her authority.
"I am a Dedicate mage of Winding Circle council and my party was attacked a few hours ago neat the border," she announced. "My student has been wounded and he needs a healer now!"
Instinctively looking behind her, Pasco realised that a horse and two pack mules were with them: not a particularly good entourage to be with out of Emelan. It was then he spied, slouched on the horse, an unconscious boy around Sandry's age with the shaft of an arrow protruding above the hip. Luckily, the arrow did not seem to be tipped with poison or he would not be still alive. Blood stained his trousers, which surprisingly did not seemed to wrinkle no matter which direction the horse jerked him.
"Hang on," said Pasco rushing back towards school. "Mila have mercy" a travelling Dedicate being attacked just outside the border. It was a wonder that young man was still alive. It must of taken them hours just to reach this place. He had just enough time to run through the door and turn the first corner in the school before slamming straight into Yazmín.
"Now what are you doing back in here, I thought you were going to the Crooked Crow to meet up with Lady Sandrilene," she said in a level tone with a very level, disapproving stare.
"Some fierce Dedicate is outside trying to find a healer for her student. Yazmín it's an arrow wound and I need directions.
Startled by this sudden outburst her only response was to give him his required direction before he hurried back out. Lady Sandrilene was not going to be happy about this but it would seem she would have his head if he ever shirked such a responsibility. Abruptly she realised that the entire class was still waiting for her return. Turning around she smiled faintly. Ever since the capture of the Dihanur assassins, his powers have not been put to use for any special purpose and he was growing lax. Some responsibility would not hurt the lad. Realising her train of thought she glowered guiltily; treating the wounded student as an exercise for Pasco's talents without thought for the wounded. The mage council would come crashing onto her for such superficial thought. They were highly protective of all their mages and potential mage students. Looking out of a nearby window she saw Pasco running up to a young girl and an older woman who were leading a horse with a tall but unconscious boy slumped over in the saddle, the huge shaft of a longbow arrow still embedded deep in his side
Pasco ran down Festival Street with the others in tow. He had to direct them down to the end of the road to the only local healer. Sourly he muttered silently that Sandry wasn't going to be happy and how his mother was going to lecture him for keeping a noble waiting. Even at fifteen years of age, Zahra Acalon still dominated him in every aspect of harriering and still liked to remind him even though he was training to be a mage, his harrier heritage will always be a part of him. At least Vani had stopped beating him after that…incident… with Gran'ther three years ago.
The moan from the passenger on the horse made him turn in concern. Pasco was sure that no poison laced the arrow but fresh blood spouted from the wound with almost every stray jerk of the horse.
Herbal scents greeted his nose as he entered the healer's small shop. Apparently, the Dedicate's mood seemed to lighten a little as she entered after him. Whatever her name was he was not game enough yet to ask, she might decide to bite his head off. As the healer quickly removed the young man's clothing to get at the wound, Pasco spied a metallic chain with something resembling a tree engraved on its surface. Covering his surprise, his mind raced through the possibilities. He had once seen one on the neck of Sandry when she had showed it to a group of uncooperative foreign mages. That thing definitely shut them up when they tested its validity. The thing had to be mage credentials and this man, barely a few years older than he also carried it. He was at equal footing with Lady Sandrilene.
"Thank you for helping my pahan. My name is Evumeimei but call me Evvy," intoned the girl.
He was so surprised to hear he speak from the silence since her outburst earlier on, that he automatically replied, "Pasco Acalon" all the whilst thinking where did she come from to have such a strange accent and what in Mila's name was a pahan?
"You're not from around here are you?" he queried almost nonchalantly the hardened his tone slightly, "How did you get caught up with a Winding Circle Dedicate and a young man obviously young for qualified mage."
"They teach me" she replied bluntly in response to his challenge and refused to utter another word. Pasco, frustrated already with his current predicament did not need another provocation and was ready to stare the girl out before the healer came between them while the Dedicate ran off on some important errand.
"No poison in the arrow, but I think it was tipped with a kind of slow acting acid," she announced nervously. "I'm not sure I can stop the bleeding as it gradually keeps chewing into more veins. Even though I don't have magic I don't need it to tell me that this is definitely some magic blend. The only place I suggest you take him is to Winding Circle's Water Temple. I don't know how he could of held out for even this long and I fear that the journey will kill him.
"No" cried the girl "He can't die" as she collapsed into rasping sobs. Pasco was stunned. Harrier mages had encountered many spells but never one in a mixture used as assiduous poison of this form. The attack was not a bandit attack; it had to be an assassination attempt. Who was the young man….