Well, it's a little later than normal, but hey it's still here. I'm not so sure about this chapter though, nothing major is revealed, it's just kind of a cool-down chapter. But please read, relax, and review. Oh and because I don't own anything, see chapter one for a disclaimer, it's exciting.

Healer, trust thyself

Strider stopped in a sitting position, despite the pain it caused him, 'Gone?' he questioned. 'What do you mean gone?'

'Just that, he's gone,' Tudor stated, slightly irritated by Strider. He didn't make a move, though, to get the older man to lie down.

'What happened?' Strider pressured the boy.

'About an hour ago he returned to camp. He was calm, like he'd finally settled everything. I tried to talk to him, but he just walked right past. I don't know if he even knew I was there. He went to Yestin. They talked for a bit, I don't know what they said, but Yestin was trying hard to convince him of something. I don't think Glynn liked it though,' Tudor took a pause to collect his thoughts. 'And then he came over here. He asked me how you were doing and I said fine.'

'That's good,' Glynn replied. He stood nervously behind Tudor, watching the steady rise and fall of Strider's chest. The man still struggled to draw breath, but in time it would get better.

'Are you feeling better,' Tudor asked, trying to be polite, but it came out more awkward than anything else.

Glynn didn't seem to notice it though, 'I'm okay.' Tudor looked back at the healer, he couldn't understand why he was so short now, but he didn't really trust the healer's opinion about his own health.

'Um,' Glynn nervously broke the silence that had erupted between them, 'I'm going to be going away for a bit.'

Tudor looked up at his teacher, 'Why? Where are you going?'

'I don't know where, I just have to go,' Glynn turned to pack his things. 'I'm leaving you in charge though.'

'But I'm not ready,' Tudor feebly tried to get the healer to stay.

'Yes you are,' Glynn turned to look at the boy who stood before him; he'd changed a lot in the past few years, he'd grown a lot. 'I've already spoken to Yestin about it, he believes you're ready. You've learned much in the past three months. Trust in that knowledge, but don't forget yourself.' Glynn gave his young apprentice a warning, 'I've got to go now,' he turned to grab his pack. Slinging it over his shoulder, he gave Tudor one last look.

'Don't let it consume you,' his words shook Tudor, who stood watching as Glynn got smaller and smaller until he disappeared all together, becoming just another speck in the world.

Tudor lowered his head after he finished the narrative. Strider didn't pressure the boy anymore for he too was shocked.

'I don't know why he left Strider,' Tudor's tear filled word broke the silence. 'I don't know why, he just left.' Strider looked up at the young man; Glynn had left him in terrible position, expected with just three months of training to take over his position as healer.

'It's okay,' he tried to comfort the young man; he wasn't ready for this, not yet. 'You... you,' Strider was struggling to take a breath. Instantly Tudor was by his side, helping him to lie on the ground once again.

'Slow breaths Strider. I shouldn't have let you sit up, it's too soon,' his words weren't directed at Strider, but rather at himself for being foolish. He'd never make it as a healer. 'Just try to relax; your breathing will even out. It's just the strain on your punctured lung; just relax,' Tudor tried to calm Strider; he wished there was something he could do to ease his breathing. There had to be something, what did Glynn always use? He knew it was some herb; he crushed it and then dumped into a bowl of hot water. The healing vapors climbed up with the steam and spread out, filling the area with its sweet aroma. That would help Strider, if only he knew what it was. He was sure that Glynn had told him, but what was it, he racked his brain.

'Trust in yourself,' he heard a weak voice call to him. The words seemed to calm him, his mind cleared and suddenly he grabbed a nearby bag, pulling out a small packet of herbs.

'Folant,' he called a nearby ranger. The older man came over, obeying the commands of the healer, despite his age. 'Fetch some water,' Tudor handed him a bucket, 'and boil it. Then bring it back to me.' Folant quickly ran off, the bucket Tudor had handed him, in his hands. He didn't need to be told of the urgency of the request, for he had heard it in the young man's voice.

Tudor turned back to Strider, whose breathing had become easier, but still ragged. He could kick himself for his neglect; he'd been so absorbed in his own problems that he'd completely neglected Strider's health. The man was doing considerably well, despite his numerous injuries, but he wasn't healed yet. A rough coughing pulled him out of his thoughts, it was Strider again. He lifted the man up slightly, allowing him to get a little more breath in hopes that it would ease his cough for he feared that the continued coughs would move the ribs Glynn had spent so much time setting. He didn't know how to set ribs.

Slowly Strider's coughing subsided and Tudor laid the tired man back down on the ground. His face was flushed and sweat was beginning to form on his forehead. He picked up a wet cloth and wiped the sweat off; he felt heat radiate through the towel. Quickly tossing the towel aside, he placed his bare hand against Strider's forehead. Somehow he had developed a fever, he wasn't quite sure how, he thought he'd taken care of everything, made sure that none of the wounds had developed an infection. Tudor muttered a curse; he didn't know what to do. He'd never treated anyone on his own, he didn't know how.

'Here's the water you wanted,' Folant stood behind Tudor, a bucket in hand.

'Just set it down and go get Yestin,' Tudor commanded, not taking his eyes off of Strider, for he worried what would happen if he did; something told him that his constant watch was the only thing keeping Strider from fading even further.

'What's wrong,' he asked.

'Go get Yestin,' Tudor turned, his voice becoming more commanding. In truth he was panicked and nervous. Was it the right thing to call Yestin? Would his captain regret his decision to make the young man the new healer if let Strider become ill again and couldn't even figure out how to treat him without going into a panic? Perhaps he wasn't really ready, or perhaps he couldn't be a healer. Maybe his father was right after all.

Folant didn't bother to argue with the healer, running off to fetch their captain. He returned with Yestin in a matter of minutes.

'What is it?' Yestin knelt on the other side of Strider.

'Thanks for the water, you can go,' Tudor told Folant, feeling weird having the man standing over his shoulder. Folant hesitated for a second, but Yestin motioned for him to leave. With him gone, Yestin tried asking again.

'What is it?'

'It's Strider,' Tudor poured some of the hot water into a bowl as he spoke. 'He's...' Tudor fumbled over his words, 'he's grown sick again and I... I don't know what to do,' Tudor looked away from his captain, dumping the contents of the package he'd pulled out earlier into the bowl of hot water. 'I don't think I'm ready for this, I don't know what to do. I don't...' Tudor trailed off.

Yestin thought for a second, the young man was right, but he didn't trust in himself, 'What do you think you're doing now? Making tea?'

Tudor stopped, not completely comprehending Yestin. He wasn't making tea; he was heating some herbs whose vapors would ease Strider's breathing. He was trying to help the man.

'I'm trying to help him. Can't you see that his breath is ragged and uneven? The vapors from this herb will ease his troubles and allow his breaths to come easier,' he explained rather bluntly. Yestin took no offense though, but was in fact rather happy that he was fighting back.

'And what is it that you plan to do next,' he coaxed him.

'Well he has a fever, but I don't know what from,' Tudor thought out loud, 'so I'm going to have to find the cause, though I believe it to be from infection.'

'So...' Yestin once again prompted the young healer.

'So,' Tudor responded, leaving the now steaming bowl and began to check Strider's wounds. 'Will you help me, sir?' the man's voice was full of confidence.

Yestin nodded, 'What's first?'

'Well, I need to check these wounds,' he moved his hands towards Strider's shoulder. 'I'm thinking that we should check this one first as it's most likely to be infected.'

'Oh,' Yestin decided to play dumb while he tested Tudor's knowledge.

'Yes, sir,' Tudor tried to remain calm, but it was not easy. This was basic knowledge, 'This is a bite wound, animal's mouths are the most prone to germs and bacteria. Wounds like these must be treated with extreme care or they will easily become infected.'

'So why wasn't it,' Yestin questioned as they gently unwrapped the bandages that bound Strider's shoulder. Thankfully the man was in a deep sleep and if they were careful he would remain so, never knowing what they were doing until he awoke again.

'It was being watched,' Tudor didn't hesitate. 'I was checking on it, keeping it clean and free of germs. The last time I checked it, it was fine. And healing rather well.'

Yestin looked at Tudor, smiling a bit. The young man was focused on Strider and doing rather well.

'Well, the shoulder seems fine, but I'm going to bathe it with some of this hot water, just to keep it clean,' Tudor spoke; he wasn't really directing it at anyone just thinking out loud. When he finished bathing the wound, Yestin helped him to bind it with a clean cloth before they moved on to the stomach wound doing the same as they had done with the shoulder. They continued this process until, a few hours later, Strider's wounds had been cleaned and bound with fresh bandages.

Yestin leaned back, taking in the work they had done. It was in Strider's stomach where they found the source of the problem: a few small slivers of wood had been left in the wound. They were very small, but proved to be infectious nonetheless. Carefully, Tudor pulled the slivers out, Yestin waited to clean the area with a towel soaked with hot water and a few herbs that would help to fight off the infection. Despite all of it, Strider still slept soundly, a fact for which they were both grateful and his breathing had evened out, thanks to the vapors from the herb. They weren't as pungent as before, but the area still held the faint aroma of the healing herb.

'What now,' Yestin asked.

'Now,' Tudor let out a breath, thinking. 'Now we wait. If his fever rises, we'll have to do more, but I don't think that'll happen, not with those slivers out. In fact, his fever should begin to go down within the next day.'

'When do you think he'll wake?'

'Sometime in the next few hours, I'd say. He's already slept quite a bit so he should be waking soon.'

'Let me know when he does,' Yestin said as he stood, preparing to leave.

'Aye sir,' Tudor nodded and turned to clean up the supplies they had used. Yestin gave Tudor one last look before he left.

Tudor, though, proved to be wrong in his predictions for Strider awoke not more than ten minutes later. The young healer didn't rush to get his captain though; he wanted to make sure first that Strider was doing okay, before he reported to Yestin.

'Welcome back, Strider,' Tudor bedside manner kicked in as he tried to assess the man's condition.

'Huh?' Strider's mind was still thick with sleep.

'You fell asleep.'

'Oh,' Strider's voice was hoarse from his deep sleep as he sounded surprised by Tudor's news.

'How are you feeling? Is your breathing better?'

'Um,' Strider thought. His voice wasn't as raspy and the haziness from sleep was fading, but he still seemed a little out of it, from the fever, no doubt, Tudor thought to himself. 'Yeah it's better,' he finally answered.

'How are you feeling?' Tudor repeated his first question.

'Okay,' Strider lied through his teeth, but Tudor didn't argue, he knew the true meaning of Strider's answer- he felt bad, but he wouldn't admit it.

'Well, I'm going to get a little broth,' Strider started to open his mouth, but Tudor cut off the protest. 'I know you're probably not hungry, but you really need to eat.' Tudor rose, leaving Strider as he went to inform Yestin of Strider's awakening and to get some broth from the men's dinner. He returned a short while later a bowl of steaming broth in his hand.

'I'm going to allow you to sit up again, but right after you need to lie down again and let your ribs heal as well as your lung,' Tudor surprised Strider with the confidence in his voice and actions.

'What happened?' he questioned the healer.

'What?' Tudor moved to get Strider sitting up like before. He was careful in his movements, trying his best not to jostle or jerk Strider. After a few minutes of struggle, he was sitting upright, leaning against the rock, and reluctantly awaiting his broth.

'You seem different. What happened?' Strider accepted the bowl handed to him. It was warm, but he like it for it was getting a little chilly. Tudor saw him shiver and handed him a blanket. Strider took it gratefully, setting down the bowl and wrapping it around his shoulders, covering up his bare chest.

'So what happened?' Strider reiterated his question as he took up his bowl again.

'I don't know,' Tudor seemed preoccupied. 'I guess I just started to trust in myse...' he trailed off as he remembered the words he'd heard earlier. In a state of shock, he looked up at Strider. The older man showed no emotion; rather he just continued to eat the broth.

'I don't know Strider, I just keep thinking about what Glynn told me. "Don't let it consume you," he said. What'd he mean?'

Strider didn't answer right away; it was tough to figure out.

'Is that what happened to him,' Tudor didn't wait for an answer, feeling that Strider already knew, but didn't want to say. 'Did it consume him?'

Strider thought back to one of his last conversations with Glynn, before all of this had happened. It was tough for the healer to be a ranger; the hypocrisy that he dealt with daily ate away at him. He told Strider he felt that he led two lives- one in which he did everything to kill people and another where he did everything to save people. He felt he was losing his touch- killing more people than he was helping. It didn't seem right; it was wearing him thin.

'Strider?' Tudor had been silent for a while, but now he wanted to know what Strider knew. The healing man looked up, but didn't say anything. 'Strider,' Tudor's voice was suspicious, 'what do you know? Tell me,' he commanded.

Still Strider said nothing, he wasn't sure how to phrase it, or if he should even tell. Was it his place? But the young man was wondering what was wrong with his teacher, why he just left?

'Strider,' Tudor's voice sounded like a warning.

'Tudor,' Strider started. Normally he wasn't at a loss for words; he could just ramble on seemingly without a thought. But this was more difficult than he had imagined.

'Tudor,' Strider started again, 'do you understand what it means to be a ranger?'

'Sure, we protect those who can't defend themselves, make sure that the world is free of evil. What does that have to do with Glynn? He had no problem being a ranger, he loved it,' Tudor was naïve in his words.

Strider sighed; it would be hard to convince him. It was ironic that just a few days ago Glynn was trying to convince him of a similar point. He didn't really believe it then and he was just beginning to understand now.

'There's this paradox that Glynn faced. None of the other men face it like Glynn did, or you will,' Tudor looked up in surprise. 'Glynn is a healer; he'd sworn never to kill for that's part of the mindset and oath taken. But Glynn is also a ranger and thus forced to kill people that he may save others. And it killed him every time he swung his sword to kill; every time he killed.'

Tudor sat back in shock. When he became a ranger he didn't really have a choice, he just went through the motions and nobody tried to talk him out of it. He didn't realize the predicament Glynn had been in and how it would have worn on him. Well, he thought arrogantly, he wouldn't let that happen to him; no he wouldn't get himself caught up in that mess.

'So that's what was bothering him,' Strider lied, not bothering to share the rest of the conversation. This would satisfy Tudor, for now at least and help him out a little; make him a stronger person.

'Well,' Tudor noticed that Strider's bowl was empty, 'I think you're done.' That was quite obvious; Tudor chided himself for making the comment. 'I'll take the bowl,' he took the bowl and set it aside and began to help Strider to lie down. The man hissed as his stomach was stretched after having been compacted while he was sitting. Tudor took notice of the sound, 'Are you okay?' He stopped moving Strider.

'Fine, just a little sore.'

Tudor gave him look of disbelief.

'Honest,' Strider sounded hurt, 'I'm fine. I'm just sore from having sat in one position for so long.'

Tudor nodded, accepting Strider's explanation warily. He continued, though, in laying Strider on the ground.

'There,' Tudor pulled his arms back as Strider made himself comfortable on the ground. He grabbed the blanket Strider had used earlier and laid it over the man. He was thinking about how important it was that Strider be kept warm so as to prevent him from catching a cold when he remembered the fever. Strider didn't feel terrible warm when he laid him down, but it was still best to check. He laid his hand on Strider's forehead, feeling for any sign of unusual warmth. There was some, but not as much as before. He smiled to himself, for Strider was getting better. He'd just treated his first patient as an official healer and the patient was doing fairly well, as was everything else.

Like I said, not much happens. But wait until the next chapter, it'll get exciting then. Unfortunately I need to do homework, so I don't have time to do any reviewer responses, but please enjoy nonetheless.