Healing

"Akkarin!" She tried to find a pulse, breathing. Panic washed over her. She was only a novice, she wasn't a healer yet!

Suddenly there was someone behind her. Dorrien knelt down next to Akkarin, nimble fingers gliding over the High Lord's face and chest. "He's still hanging on, but barely, barely. You need to let me guide you."

"How?"

"Open your mind."

He moved behind her, melding his body against her, covering her hands with his. "Now! You need to keep from panicking or he will die."

She tried to let Dorrien in, tried to open the door of her mind to him, but she was locked in, the strange power of the Ichan was closing in on her, choking her.

"We'll need that power. He will need that power. Let go!"

"I can't, Dorrien, I can't!" she cried, her voice breaking into sobs.

For a moment Dorrien was silent. Then he said, his tone strangely brittle. "Can you remember the first time you were together?"

"What?"

"Call up that memory."

She stared down at Akkarin's face. Under her hands she felt how it was no longer only blood flowing out of his wound. It was his essence. What remained of his life-force.

Desperate, she closed her eyes and plunged into her mind. For a moment she thought she would drown, in power, in pain. Then she was back under the overhang in that steep valley, lying on the bed of wilted grass. And he was there with her. She felt the echo of his lips on her body, and her body recalled how it was to turn liquid under a man's touch…

Now she felt another touch around her, within her. Dorrien. Sturdy. The taste of vanilla and a hint of forest.

"There, that's it. Now let me push a little of that power into him. We need to stop the flow of his essence first. Then we remove that knife."

She was feeling the grass beneath her back, the weight of Akkarin on her body. Her reply was a faint yes, even as she let go of her power, floating on the memory.

Dorrien moved her hands around the blade of the knife. She felt the power surge from her palms. At first there was no difference. He did not open his eyes.

But then, somewhere between the memory and the blood and the fear, she realized that the horrible, deathly stillness had dissipated from his body. She still wasn't able to detect any breathing.

"That takes a little more power…" Dorrien reached, through her power, right into Akkarin's body. "Now."

She felt the power ripped from within her, and at the same time the terrible pain of the knife in Akkarin's chest. A spasm of pain shuddered through the body underneath her hands. A horrible gargling moan, then Akkarin coughed. A foam of blood formed on his lips.

"NOOOOO!" Sonea screamed in her mind. Dorrien's grip on her tightened.

"Let go, you have to let go! Float!" There was a hint of pain in the healer's mind-voice.

Akkarin jerked. Then his trembling fingers closed around her wrist instead of the knife. She felt tears flowing down her cheek, and with her tears, power.

"I'll remove the blade now. You need to stem the blood flow. And he mustn't lose any of his power."

She nodded, having no voice left.

"Ready?"

She drew her power into her hands. Somehow she could still smell the memory of drying grass and the cooling sweat of passion.

Dorrien pulled the knife upwards. A slow, smooth motion that showed just how much experience as a healer he had. "Now! Press down."

She pressed down with all her strength. Sealing the wound, stemming the flow of blood and life-force, while Akkarin moaned and jerked under her hands. She looked down at her hands and saw that they were red with blood. Her fingers looked as if she had dipped them into a bucket of paint. On the back of her hands brown flakes of crusted blood were peeling off.

Suddenly a thick white padding of linen was shoved under her fingers.

"Lung's punctured. But he's too weak, I need to recharge his energy levels first."

Another voice. Vinara. "But you don't have enough power."

"Do you?" Dorrien's voice was impatient.

"No."

"Sonea does."

"It dangerous to receive and lose so much power so quickly."

How could they argue at a time like this? Sonea looked up, feeling her face fire up with anger. "He'll die if I don't! Help me!"

Dorrien did not reply, only laid his hands over hers once more, in order to direct her power.

"Try to go back to that memory. And then let go."

Akkarin's hands tightened around her wrists. And somehow that feeling was enough to send her back. Back to that morning…

Power poured out of her, into Akkarin, guided by Dorrien. A rushing, flooding of power that she could not control anymore. Her hands were growing cold, even as she felt the rhythm of laboured breathing under her palms. Suddenly the world seemed to fall in on itself.

From far away she heard her voice. "Will he live?"

And an answer. But the answer was almost inaudible, and she heard it within her.

"I promise. You stubborn little fool."

Then everything went dark around her.

oooOooo

oooOooo

Please feel free to leave a comment!

Anything at all: If you noticed a typo, if you don't like a characterization or description, if you thought a line especially funny, if there was anything you particularly enjoyed …I am really interested in what my readers think about my writing.

You can either leave a public comment (signed or anonymous), send me a private message, visit my forums or mail me off-site: juno underscore magic at magic dot ms

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this story.

Yours
JunoMagic