Disclaimer; I still don't own Power Rangers
A/N: Sorry, I wasn't really forgetting this one, I was just...sick and distracted for a while.
"Sorry," Lance said after studying the older woman for a moment. "Nicole's always been a fan of the sink or swim school of life."
"I've noticed," Macy said with a warm smile, "so what does a healer do?"
Lance shook his head slightly, "It's not much different than a nurse or a doctor, really. My dad was a healer, and he worked at the Briarwood Children's Hospital as a nurse in the oncology ward. Mostly, I use holistic methods with judicious use of Western medicine. I can do some of what Pa called 'wave your hand and be healed' Healing, which is also called Healing Magic, but I can't Heal everything, and sometimes nature can do the job as well as, or even better than, I can." He waved his hand, "I know a lot about plants if it comes to it, Pa taught me that and Dad taught me about healing with them."
"Basically you've had a lot of training," Macy said.
Lance shrugged, "My first memories are following my dad around when he was doing work in the village in the forest. My first bit of magic was healing Mom's hand when she cut herself. By the time I entered the first grade, I could name most of the major classifications of plants and I could perform seven deliberate healing spells as well as control my instinctive abilities. Healing is what I was born to do." He blushed, "Sorry, I don't mean to sound so arrogant."
"Nonsense," Macy replied. She gestured, "Would you mind taking a look at our ill and injured, Lance?"
"Not at all," Lance replied and popped his knuckled, "Lead the way ma'am."
There were four patients in a large tent, and they all looked up in surprise when the two of them came in, "Everyone," Macy said, "this is Lance, he's a Healer from Briarwood. I'd like him to see what he can do for you."
"A healer," said one, a somewhat older man, "what's that mean?"
Lance shrugged, "My parents were Mystic Rangers, and I inherited their magic and my dad's healing abilities." He concentrated for a moment and then held out his hand, tightly closed in a fist, "Watch." He opened his hand and four butterflies, Monarchs to be precise, flittered out of his hand. They swirled around the room for a moment, and then each of them settled on the nose of a patient and vanished into gold sparkles. It was a silly spell and barely tapped his energies, but his dad used it sometimes on the wards to cheer up the kids and Lance had learned it to help cheer Gwen and Arthur as babies. "Now, may I see to you and heal you?" Lance said.
"You're just a kid," the older man protested, "what can you do?"
"As much as I can," Lance replied, "as much as I have the strength for."
"Ok," the man said and lifted a bandage wrapped arm.
Lance moved over and knelt by his cot, "What happened?" He asked.
"I tripped and fell while hunting," the man said quietly. "I was on a hill."
Lance spread his hand over the man's arm and chanted softly. In moments, he had his favorite diagnostic spell going. After nodding at it, he shook his hand lightly and ended the spell. "I can do something about that infection that's trying to come on right now," he said, "but exploding those Grinders took more energy than I would have liked. Tomorrow, I'll finish the healing."
That said, he took the man's arm into his lap, took a deep breath and called up the green energy of healing. It fell from his hand like a verdant waterfall, binding to the man's arm. He closed his eyes and let his instincts paint the picture of the wound. The infection appeared to him as a dark cloud and he sent lances of pure healing energy into that cloud. It took time, but finally, there were no more signs of infection, and he chanted a final spell to keep the wound protected until he could get back to it.
When he opened his eyes, everyone was staring at him, "What?" He asked.
"That was an impressive light show," the older man said, "My name's Jack."
"Lance," Lance replied, releasing the man's arm. "I'll come heal that tomorrow, sir. It shouldn't hurt though, not unless you jar it. Be careful too, you could hurt it worse without even realizing it."
"I'll remember that," Jack replied.
Lance carefully got to his feet and turned to the next bed with a calm smile, "Hi," he said to the little girl laying there, "I'm Lance."
"I'm Lucy," the little girl said quietly, "my tummy feels funny."
"Really?" Lance said, He sat on the edge of her cot and rested his hand on her stomach, "Let's find out why." He sent the healing spell into her stomach, and quickly diagnosed the issue. "Huh," he said, "I haven't seen that in a while."
"Seen what?" Lucy asked.
"Well Lucy," Lance said, "I have to know, what's your favorite kind of animal?"
"I like cats," Lucy said, "we used to have a pretty cat, he was white and brown. Mommy said he was an 'Imalan."
"A Himalayan," Lance repeated. "Well, your tummy feels funny because of this." He concentrated and lifted his hand off Lucy's stomach and a bunch of birds flew out from under his hand. They flew out of the tent, "Did that help?" Lucy nodded her eyes wide, "Excellent. Now, I want you to sleep tonight, ok. All night; and tomorrow you can go play again."
"Ok," Lucy said. Lance brushed the hair back from her forehead and released a mild sleep spell that would help keep her quiet until the rest of the healing was finished. He stood carefully and moved over to Macy.
"What happened?" Macy asked.
Lance glanced over his shoulder, "Lucy ate something she shouldn't," he said quietly, "probably a berry or something. She just got sick, didn't she?"
"Yes, not even two hours ago."
"Ok," Lance nodded, "I'm glad I was here then. Whatever she ate, I isolated it in her system and set a purge spell on her. When she wakes up, take her to the bathroom, because that's the best way for her to get the poison out."
"I'll see to it," Macy replied.
Lance turned to the other two cots, one contained a man who was asleep, but the girl was watching him. She was thin, pretty and about his age, so Lance gave her his calm smile and sat down beside her, "Hi, I'm Lance."
"I'm Elizabeth," the girl replied.
"So, what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" Lance asked.
Elizabeth laughed, and then coughed, "Sorry," she said, "I can't breathe right, and I'm tired a lot and I bruise very easily. It all started a few weeks ago."
"Let's see what the magic says then," Lance said, and rested his hand on her arm. He released his spell while trying to think of what could match her symptoms.
Black, black and more black, in the lungs, along the joints, in the lymph nodes, it flowed over her like a dark cloud. Then it reached for him, and he jerked away, but it was covering him. It was in his lungs, his blood stream, and his bones. Memory and magic collided and he wasn't aware as he slid off the cot, clutching his head and screaming in fear.