Chapter Three: Healing
Two figures rode on top of a streak of silver, racing across the desert sands through the coolness of the desert night. The giant animal flew across the sand dunes like a breath of wind despite the burden of the two passengers entangled in its thick white mane, feet barely grazing the ground. The deep rumble of its panting broke the silence of the desert at regular intervals. The silver mist of the animal's breath was hurled past its body by the fierce wind, mixing with the cloud of sand the powerful hindquarters kicked up. At her master's silent and anxious urging, the silver animal increased its impossibly fast pace to hurdle towards Memphis.
//Please, let him be alright.//
The woman held on to the silent plea as tightly as she grasped the white fur of the silver animal as tears streamed from her lavender eyes. It gave her hope and strength to battle the worry that threatened to consume her since the messenger had burst into the chambers of the king and brought the terrible news. It had happened. They had found him in his room, seemingly asleep but the young prince could not be awakened. The Healers were at a lost. Come, quickly. They had needed no urging, leaving affairs that were suddenly of much less importance in the hands of the district officials. My queen, it is unsafe to travel by water at night. No, we must go. Nekti, we cannot; we must wait until daylight. We will go on my Guardian. You cannot sustain her at night. You have not the strength. I must have the strength.
//Ab and I are coming, little dark. Hold on.// She shuddered to think of the child's bright eyes dulled by the trance, staring at nothingness while the mind and heart wandered in wending paths of the Shadows. It had been so sudden...but not without warning. The suspicion crept upon her on icy fingers of dread. The storm. It must have taken great powers of Shadow energy to unleash such fury in the dry heat of the Red Lands. She knew that her son possessed the Shadow powers, being a Child of the Dark. Such was his blessing and his curse as a scion of this line of kings but, she reasoned furiously, he should not have been able to access the powers, much less harness them to create the storm, having only seen five inundations of the Nile in his short life. Unless...
Needles of fear and horror pierced Nekti's heart as realization came into sharp focus. The young child had been distant and troubled lately, dark moods slipping over the normally sunny disposition. He had not wanted them to leave him but had endured their absences silently, the crimson eyes stormy with pent frustration and anger. It must have been the catalysis that opened the floodgates of the Shadows, she realized. They had driven their son into the Shadows. A bitter urgent fear rushed through her veins. Nekti silently begged her Guardian to run faster, faster towards her son. She needed to be at his side. Silver Fang responded and Nekti felt herself weaken as she transferred energy to the animal.
/Nekti, you must rest. You cannot keep this up,/ Amenhotep gently reasoned.
/But I must! Our son needs us!/
/It will not help him if you are exhausted when we reach him. He needs us, but you will not be able to help him if you do not have enough strength./
/But I must! You do not understand fully, Amen./
/How can I not understand? I know what you feel, Nekti. My heart burns as well,/ he replied quietly.
/Then you must see that it is our fault that he walks in Shadows at this moment. We should have never left him. How can we be so irresponsible, especially after the storm?/
Amenhotep tightened his arms around his wife's waist in a gesture of comfort. /Our son is strong. He will survive./
/But he is barely even a child yet! How can he withstand the perils of the Realm of Shadows, even if he is a Child of Dark? Our little dark.../ Nekti bowed her head as she let the pain flow. She was tiring rapidly, dimly aware that, if not for her husband, she would have fallen off the silver Guardian.
/I have sent Azrak to search the Shadows already. Trust in him. He is doing all he can./ Amenhotep felt the intense determination of his Guardian as the Sage roamed through the lost paths of the Shadows, braving the perilous mists between the Realms to search for a single lost child in the limitless expanse. His own heart ached with worry. He took a deep breath, letting the cold air sting his lungs. He needed to keep calm and be wary of letting his emotions colour his judgment, for it was now that he needed the clarity of cool judgment the most. His wife and his son depended upon it.
/Please Amen, ask the Sage to take you to Yami by way of the Shadows. I will be alright. Silver Fang can carry me to Memphis by the time Ra rises- //
/No, you are in no condition to be left alone./ He felt the expected flash of anger but continued. /My Guardian can travel faster without me by his side and even if I were to command him, he would refuse to take me into the Shadows. There is nothing I can do by going that route, except to lose my own way. Azrak has sent out many others to search for Yami already. It is only a matter of time before Yami is found,/ he soothed. Faith strengthened his words, though he knew not how he could believe them to be true. Perhaps it was enough that he had the grace to hope.
But will he be unscathed? Amenhotep wondered privately.
Nekti's mind swayed in turbulent fatigue but she continued to lend her strength to her silver Guardian, hanging on by sheer will to the edge between exhaustion and collapse. The silver wolf continued its fear-driven flight across the desert, towards a little boy that could not be awoken.
* * * * * *
The blue-eyed warrior glanced at the child cradled in his arms. The boy had ceased to struggle, lapsing into an exhausted sleep. The small hands - so unlike his own long rough ones, he noted - clung to the front of his robes, pulling the fabric against the soft red cheek. He continued to gaze entranced at the small figure, so innocent and helpless in his arms. Suddenly, he was aware of the warm stickiness seeping through his robes where his arms supported the child's back. The monster had hurt the child. The tall man cursed his own ignorance. Why had he not noticed before? He set out in long strides towards the doorway.
The tall warrior flitted between the shadows, leaping over fallen stone tablets in his haste. Making his way to the outer hall, the warrior closed his pale cobalt eyes and muttered a spell. When he opened them again, the hallway had disappeared. In its place was a darkly lit room that resembled the inside of a wooden hut. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, on racks and shelves, while powdered roots sat in wooden bowls. The air was thick with the fragrance of healing herbs and tasted slightly smoky from the small fire burning in the brick fireplace in the corner, over which hung an enormous clay cauldron that was simmering. Ignoring the drowsy effect of the atmosphere, the warrior crossed the small room in three great strides to the corner opposite of the fireplace.
A man sat there, his hands folded in his lap and his eyes closed, the image of a third eye marking him as a Healer glowing brilliantly on his forehead. In front of him rested a crystal ball on a satin cushion, the only luxurious item in the entire room. The orb was filled with shifting designs, visions of the past, present and future. The dancing colours vanished abruptly at the approach of the two visitors. The warrior genuflected on one knee in front of the meditating man, taking care not to jar the child in his arms. At the sound of the warrior's shifting purple robes, the Healer opened his eyes.
"Master Keto, I apologize for disturbing your meditation but I am in dire need of assistance." Seldom had the warrior needed the help of the wise old Healer and never had he pleaded for assistance. He suffered his battle wounds proudly. The words felt strange on his tongue but he felt no hesitation. Something urged him to take care of the child, whatever the cost to himself or his warrior's pride. He could feel the stickiness of dried blood coating his fingers.
Without hesitation, Di'An Keto stood up and took the unconscious child from his guardian. The warrior stiffened protectively but forced himself to relax as the Healer glanced at him piercingly with shocking purple eyes. The shaman gently laid Yami facedown on a straw mat near the fireplace and knelt down beside him. The small boy shifted slightly in his sleep, wincing in pain as the wounds on his back drew pain from the movement. Procuring a small knife from his pocket, the Healer cut through the blood-soaked tunic to reveal the child's back. What the warrior saw almost made him physically sick. Yami's back was gouged with several puncture holes from the beast's claws. Some blood had dried and crusted around the wounds, while more was slowly pooling in the hollows of the boy's back. The warrior's hand jerked slightly, as if to touch the wounds but he compelled himself to wait patiently for the Healer. A grim smile touched his lips though it failed to reach his eyes. At least that foul creature of Shadows had paid dearly. He had made sure of that.
Di'An Keto laid his hands softly on Yami's back, taking care to cover the wounds with as little movement as possible. He closed his strange purple eyes and began to chant in a rich deep voice, filling the room with the cadences of ancient healing spells. His heart too went out towards the small boy. Most of those that sought his help were jaded warriors like the one that had brought the child to his attention, soldiers with battle scars that crisscrossed their backs and limbs. They were hardened against pain, suffering; if they did suffer, they rarely showed it as was the custom of their people. The Healer concentrated, sensing the wounds in his mind as if they were red-hot coals that emitted a bright glow. He reached out with his power, directing it with the incantation. The wounds were deep yet cleanly cut. They responded quickly under the powerful magic of the master Healer. The jabbing pain subsided into a small dull throb and the flesh began to reconstruct itself. The blood vessels repaired themselves, stopping the bleeding. Layers of skin began to build on top of the healed flesh, layer upon layer until the wound closed up without a hint of a scar.
The weathered fingers stroked the unblemished skin as the Healer surveyed his work with satisfaction. Di'An Keto was about to withdraw his magic when something else caught his attention. A sliver of the shadow beast's claw had imbedded into the child's back. Even as he detected it, the sliver dissolved and was gone. Frowning, the Healer searched harder for the fragment. After much searching, he felt it, a shadow over the child's heart. Delving deeper, he found himself suddenly surrounded by intense swirls of emotion. Pain, happiness, fear, doubt, loneliness, joy, and sorrow washed over him in great waves, so powerful that it nearly knocked the Healer over physically. This young child was a perplexing case.
Quickly, the apothecary withdrew his power from the boy and opened his strange violet-coloured eyes to see the warrior standing a stoic yet protective distance away. His jaw was set at a determined angle and he kept an erect soldier's posture, ready for combat, but his cerulean eyes betrayed him. Normally, they held an icy edge but at the moment they were grey with worry as they gazed intently at the small patient. Seeing Di'An Keto stir, he moved to speak but the Healer cut him off.
"The injury has been taken care of. The boy needs plenty of rest at the moment. Make sure he is not disturbed."
With that, the healing master stood up and moved to a rack of dried herbs. Procuring several crumpled leaves from a vine, he put them in a wooden bowl and crushed them, releasing a sweet clean smell. He ladled some liquid from the cauldron in the fireplace and mixed it into the herbs, creating a salve that he spread onto his charge's back. Yami stirred slightly at the touch then relaxed as the healing balm soothed away any lingering pain. Cerulean eyes monitored every move. Master Keto gently picked up the small boy and placed him in the arms of the slightly surprised warrior.
"I have done what I can. The rest is up to you."
"What is the meaning of your words, Master Keto?" The warrior caught a shrewd glimpse that briefly flitted across the Healer's neutral features, as if the Healer were sizing him up.
"Not all wounds are wounds of the flesh. Wounds of the heart can only be cured by time. Now, it is time for you to leave."
"I. do not know where to bring the boy." The warrior wore an expression of open puzzlement. "This child is not."
"Are you so sure about that, warrior? Who is to decide that but the heart and the soul?" He held the other's gaze for a moment before the warrior looked away. The young one would learn to trust his own answers in time. "Farewell, warrior of the Azima." With that, Master Keto retreated back to his previous engagement of meditation.
The blue-eyed warrior stood in the middle of the small room, uncertain of what to do. The Healer, who had now sunk into subconscious realms, provided no direction. He could not bring the child back to the Hall; it was too dangerous but neither could he stay in the quarters of the Healer. Perhaps to his own village? But it had been so long since he returned home that he was unsure of whether he would be able to find a place to stay. Pondering his dilemma, the warrior's eyes slowly drifted to examine the young boy he held in his arms. What did the Healer mean by wounds of the heart? Was the child hurt beyond the master's skill to heal? The warrior was so wrapped up in though that he did not notice the smoke-filled room of Di'An Keto begin to blur and fade.
Guard him well.
The warrior snapped to attention at the voice. He found that the abode of the Healer was gone, replaced with a room of bright colours that was softly lit by undulating patterns of light emitted from the shifting ceiling. Noticing a bed, he made his way carefully across a debris-covered floor and gently placed the child in it, tucking him under the blankets. The boy promptly curled onto his side and gathered a fistful of soft blanket. The warrior smiled as he sank carefully onto the bed at the child's feet. The boy looked so peaceful in his sleep. Leaning languidly against a bedpost, the warrior sat down to think and keep watch over the night.
Two figures rode on top of a streak of silver, racing across the desert sands through the coolness of the desert night. The giant animal flew across the sand dunes like a breath of wind despite the burden of the two passengers entangled in its thick white mane, feet barely grazing the ground. The deep rumble of its panting broke the silence of the desert at regular intervals. The silver mist of the animal's breath was hurled past its body by the fierce wind, mixing with the cloud of sand the powerful hindquarters kicked up. At her master's silent and anxious urging, the silver animal increased its impossibly fast pace to hurdle towards Memphis.
//Please, let him be alright.//
The woman held on to the silent plea as tightly as she grasped the white fur of the silver animal as tears streamed from her lavender eyes. It gave her hope and strength to battle the worry that threatened to consume her since the messenger had burst into the chambers of the king and brought the terrible news. It had happened. They had found him in his room, seemingly asleep but the young prince could not be awakened. The Healers were at a lost. Come, quickly. They had needed no urging, leaving affairs that were suddenly of much less importance in the hands of the district officials. My queen, it is unsafe to travel by water at night. No, we must go. Nekti, we cannot; we must wait until daylight. We will go on my Guardian. You cannot sustain her at night. You have not the strength. I must have the strength.
//Ab and I are coming, little dark. Hold on.// She shuddered to think of the child's bright eyes dulled by the trance, staring at nothingness while the mind and heart wandered in wending paths of the Shadows. It had been so sudden...but not without warning. The suspicion crept upon her on icy fingers of dread. The storm. It must have taken great powers of Shadow energy to unleash such fury in the dry heat of the Red Lands. She knew that her son possessed the Shadow powers, being a Child of the Dark. Such was his blessing and his curse as a scion of this line of kings but, she reasoned furiously, he should not have been able to access the powers, much less harness them to create the storm, having only seen five inundations of the Nile in his short life. Unless...
Needles of fear and horror pierced Nekti's heart as realization came into sharp focus. The young child had been distant and troubled lately, dark moods slipping over the normally sunny disposition. He had not wanted them to leave him but had endured their absences silently, the crimson eyes stormy with pent frustration and anger. It must have been the catalysis that opened the floodgates of the Shadows, she realized. They had driven their son into the Shadows. A bitter urgent fear rushed through her veins. Nekti silently begged her Guardian to run faster, faster towards her son. She needed to be at his side. Silver Fang responded and Nekti felt herself weaken as she transferred energy to the animal.
/Nekti, you must rest. You cannot keep this up,/ Amenhotep gently reasoned.
/But I must! Our son needs us!/
/It will not help him if you are exhausted when we reach him. He needs us, but you will not be able to help him if you do not have enough strength./
/But I must! You do not understand fully, Amen./
/How can I not understand? I know what you feel, Nekti. My heart burns as well,/ he replied quietly.
/Then you must see that it is our fault that he walks in Shadows at this moment. We should have never left him. How can we be so irresponsible, especially after the storm?/
Amenhotep tightened his arms around his wife's waist in a gesture of comfort. /Our son is strong. He will survive./
/But he is barely even a child yet! How can he withstand the perils of the Realm of Shadows, even if he is a Child of Dark? Our little dark.../ Nekti bowed her head as she let the pain flow. She was tiring rapidly, dimly aware that, if not for her husband, she would have fallen off the silver Guardian.
/I have sent Azrak to search the Shadows already. Trust in him. He is doing all he can./ Amenhotep felt the intense determination of his Guardian as the Sage roamed through the lost paths of the Shadows, braving the perilous mists between the Realms to search for a single lost child in the limitless expanse. His own heart ached with worry. He took a deep breath, letting the cold air sting his lungs. He needed to keep calm and be wary of letting his emotions colour his judgment, for it was now that he needed the clarity of cool judgment the most. His wife and his son depended upon it.
/Please Amen, ask the Sage to take you to Yami by way of the Shadows. I will be alright. Silver Fang can carry me to Memphis by the time Ra rises- //
/No, you are in no condition to be left alone./ He felt the expected flash of anger but continued. /My Guardian can travel faster without me by his side and even if I were to command him, he would refuse to take me into the Shadows. There is nothing I can do by going that route, except to lose my own way. Azrak has sent out many others to search for Yami already. It is only a matter of time before Yami is found,/ he soothed. Faith strengthened his words, though he knew not how he could believe them to be true. Perhaps it was enough that he had the grace to hope.
But will he be unscathed? Amenhotep wondered privately.
Nekti's mind swayed in turbulent fatigue but she continued to lend her strength to her silver Guardian, hanging on by sheer will to the edge between exhaustion and collapse. The silver wolf continued its fear-driven flight across the desert, towards a little boy that could not be awoken.
* * * * * *
The blue-eyed warrior glanced at the child cradled in his arms. The boy had ceased to struggle, lapsing into an exhausted sleep. The small hands - so unlike his own long rough ones, he noted - clung to the front of his robes, pulling the fabric against the soft red cheek. He continued to gaze entranced at the small figure, so innocent and helpless in his arms. Suddenly, he was aware of the warm stickiness seeping through his robes where his arms supported the child's back. The monster had hurt the child. The tall man cursed his own ignorance. Why had he not noticed before? He set out in long strides towards the doorway.
The tall warrior flitted between the shadows, leaping over fallen stone tablets in his haste. Making his way to the outer hall, the warrior closed his pale cobalt eyes and muttered a spell. When he opened them again, the hallway had disappeared. In its place was a darkly lit room that resembled the inside of a wooden hut. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, on racks and shelves, while powdered roots sat in wooden bowls. The air was thick with the fragrance of healing herbs and tasted slightly smoky from the small fire burning in the brick fireplace in the corner, over which hung an enormous clay cauldron that was simmering. Ignoring the drowsy effect of the atmosphere, the warrior crossed the small room in three great strides to the corner opposite of the fireplace.
A man sat there, his hands folded in his lap and his eyes closed, the image of a third eye marking him as a Healer glowing brilliantly on his forehead. In front of him rested a crystal ball on a satin cushion, the only luxurious item in the entire room. The orb was filled with shifting designs, visions of the past, present and future. The dancing colours vanished abruptly at the approach of the two visitors. The warrior genuflected on one knee in front of the meditating man, taking care not to jar the child in his arms. At the sound of the warrior's shifting purple robes, the Healer opened his eyes.
"Master Keto, I apologize for disturbing your meditation but I am in dire need of assistance." Seldom had the warrior needed the help of the wise old Healer and never had he pleaded for assistance. He suffered his battle wounds proudly. The words felt strange on his tongue but he felt no hesitation. Something urged him to take care of the child, whatever the cost to himself or his warrior's pride. He could feel the stickiness of dried blood coating his fingers.
Without hesitation, Di'An Keto stood up and took the unconscious child from his guardian. The warrior stiffened protectively but forced himself to relax as the Healer glanced at him piercingly with shocking purple eyes. The shaman gently laid Yami facedown on a straw mat near the fireplace and knelt down beside him. The small boy shifted slightly in his sleep, wincing in pain as the wounds on his back drew pain from the movement. Procuring a small knife from his pocket, the Healer cut through the blood-soaked tunic to reveal the child's back. What the warrior saw almost made him physically sick. Yami's back was gouged with several puncture holes from the beast's claws. Some blood had dried and crusted around the wounds, while more was slowly pooling in the hollows of the boy's back. The warrior's hand jerked slightly, as if to touch the wounds but he compelled himself to wait patiently for the Healer. A grim smile touched his lips though it failed to reach his eyes. At least that foul creature of Shadows had paid dearly. He had made sure of that.
Di'An Keto laid his hands softly on Yami's back, taking care to cover the wounds with as little movement as possible. He closed his strange purple eyes and began to chant in a rich deep voice, filling the room with the cadences of ancient healing spells. His heart too went out towards the small boy. Most of those that sought his help were jaded warriors like the one that had brought the child to his attention, soldiers with battle scars that crisscrossed their backs and limbs. They were hardened against pain, suffering; if they did suffer, they rarely showed it as was the custom of their people. The Healer concentrated, sensing the wounds in his mind as if they were red-hot coals that emitted a bright glow. He reached out with his power, directing it with the incantation. The wounds were deep yet cleanly cut. They responded quickly under the powerful magic of the master Healer. The jabbing pain subsided into a small dull throb and the flesh began to reconstruct itself. The blood vessels repaired themselves, stopping the bleeding. Layers of skin began to build on top of the healed flesh, layer upon layer until the wound closed up without a hint of a scar.
The weathered fingers stroked the unblemished skin as the Healer surveyed his work with satisfaction. Di'An Keto was about to withdraw his magic when something else caught his attention. A sliver of the shadow beast's claw had imbedded into the child's back. Even as he detected it, the sliver dissolved and was gone. Frowning, the Healer searched harder for the fragment. After much searching, he felt it, a shadow over the child's heart. Delving deeper, he found himself suddenly surrounded by intense swirls of emotion. Pain, happiness, fear, doubt, loneliness, joy, and sorrow washed over him in great waves, so powerful that it nearly knocked the Healer over physically. This young child was a perplexing case.
Quickly, the apothecary withdrew his power from the boy and opened his strange violet-coloured eyes to see the warrior standing a stoic yet protective distance away. His jaw was set at a determined angle and he kept an erect soldier's posture, ready for combat, but his cerulean eyes betrayed him. Normally, they held an icy edge but at the moment they were grey with worry as they gazed intently at the small patient. Seeing Di'An Keto stir, he moved to speak but the Healer cut him off.
"The injury has been taken care of. The boy needs plenty of rest at the moment. Make sure he is not disturbed."
With that, the healing master stood up and moved to a rack of dried herbs. Procuring several crumpled leaves from a vine, he put them in a wooden bowl and crushed them, releasing a sweet clean smell. He ladled some liquid from the cauldron in the fireplace and mixed it into the herbs, creating a salve that he spread onto his charge's back. Yami stirred slightly at the touch then relaxed as the healing balm soothed away any lingering pain. Cerulean eyes monitored every move. Master Keto gently picked up the small boy and placed him in the arms of the slightly surprised warrior.
"I have done what I can. The rest is up to you."
"What is the meaning of your words, Master Keto?" The warrior caught a shrewd glimpse that briefly flitted across the Healer's neutral features, as if the Healer were sizing him up.
"Not all wounds are wounds of the flesh. Wounds of the heart can only be cured by time. Now, it is time for you to leave."
"I. do not know where to bring the boy." The warrior wore an expression of open puzzlement. "This child is not."
"Are you so sure about that, warrior? Who is to decide that but the heart and the soul?" He held the other's gaze for a moment before the warrior looked away. The young one would learn to trust his own answers in time. "Farewell, warrior of the Azima." With that, Master Keto retreated back to his previous engagement of meditation.
The blue-eyed warrior stood in the middle of the small room, uncertain of what to do. The Healer, who had now sunk into subconscious realms, provided no direction. He could not bring the child back to the Hall; it was too dangerous but neither could he stay in the quarters of the Healer. Perhaps to his own village? But it had been so long since he returned home that he was unsure of whether he would be able to find a place to stay. Pondering his dilemma, the warrior's eyes slowly drifted to examine the young boy he held in his arms. What did the Healer mean by wounds of the heart? Was the child hurt beyond the master's skill to heal? The warrior was so wrapped up in though that he did not notice the smoke-filled room of Di'An Keto begin to blur and fade.
Guard him well.
The warrior snapped to attention at the voice. He found that the abode of the Healer was gone, replaced with a room of bright colours that was softly lit by undulating patterns of light emitted from the shifting ceiling. Noticing a bed, he made his way carefully across a debris-covered floor and gently placed the child in it, tucking him under the blankets. The boy promptly curled onto his side and gathered a fistful of soft blanket. The warrior smiled as he sank carefully onto the bed at the child's feet. The boy looked so peaceful in his sleep. Leaning languidly against a bedpost, the warrior sat down to think and keep watch over the night.