The grace of my soul I share, willingly and with pure intent, serving life until life's appointed end. I shall end no life, harm no living thing, and live no lie, lest my soul be tainted and my grace lessened. I shall serve, and through service be rewarded, not for personal gain, but for love of Life. This I so swear.
The White Mage's Oath
Jack might have nodded off there in Lena's arms, for it seemed to take no time at all to reach the cove where they had camped the night before. They were sailing with the current now, after all, and it took only the lightest of nudges from his power channeled through the orb of water to keep them pointed in the right direction. Magically, he felt fine, but when he hopped out of the boat to help Redden pull it ashore, his muscles protested, sore as much from heavy casting as from sprinting away from that monster.
"What was that thing?" Lena asked as he helped her from the boat. No one had said much after they fled, almost as if they all feared to jinx their escape.
Jack shook his head. "I don't know. It could have been anything, altered by the quantities of aether in that place. I've never read of anything like it."
Lena stumbled, and Jack was almost dragged down with her, but somehow he managed to keep both of them upright. She grimaced, favoring one leg.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, wondering when that had happened, why he hadn't noticed it before, but she shook her head.
"It's Kane," she said softly, tilting her head toward where Redden bent over his son, whose face contorted with pain.
"You can feel it?" Jack asked.
Lena nodded. "But I'll be alright. Go help him, please. I can't look at it properly until we get him out of the boat."
"Of course," Jack said, seeing her settled on the fallen log where their campfire had been. Only last night, Jack thought to himself. It suddenly seemed like it had been a month ago.
"Get Thad out of the way," Redden was saying as Jack returned to the shore. "This'll be easier if we have more room."
"I can handle young master Shipman," Orin said, getting an arm under Thad's unconscious form. "But we should consider creating a litter before we move- By the gods! What is this insect?" He swatted at the air as the tiny eidolon flew from Thad's cloak and circled Orin's head, twittering like an angered sparrow, then darted toward Jack and dived into his coat collar.
"You!" Jack said. "Still with us, then? Thad will be pleased." He reached up with one finger to tickle the eidolon on the chin. The creature chittered in his ear. Jack chuckled. "I'd quite lost track of you in the excitement before."
"But this is an aether wraith!" Orin exclaimed. "How extraordinary! My people have many stories of them!"
"Can we talk about those later?" Kane croaked from the bottom of the grounded boat.
They had trouble getting him up. He was far heavier than any of them, and every move seemed to pain him, summoning forth growls and curses that would have impressed even the pirates back on their ship. It took longer than Jack liked to admit for him to think of having Lena cast Float to make Kane lighter. The spell only lasted a few minutes, but it was enough to get Kane out of the boat, to get him laid out as comfortably as they could make him on a bedroll near the campfire Jack built as Lena took control of the situation.
"Boil water," she told Orin, who obeyed without question. "Jack, can you make him sleep?"
Jack shook his head. "The spell won't hold against that kind of pain."
"Fine. I believe Dahlia packed us some wine in that trunk? Thank you. Redden, sit here. I'll need your help." She pointed at a spot above Kane's head. All the while, her hands never stopped moving. With swift motions and Orin's small boot knife, she cut Kane's trouser leg open, baring his knee which was swollen and grotesquely bruised. Jack heard her sharp intake of breath when she saw it. He handed her the wineskin, and she poured a bit of the liquid over her hands before she passed the rest to Kane. "Drink this," she said. "All of it."
Kane nodded and did as she said.
No one spoke as Lena worked. She ran her glowing hands over Kane's thigh, his knee, down his calf, spending most of her time on the shin area, reducing the swelling somehow. Then she nodded at Redden. "Hold him down," she said, voice gone as hard as Jack had ever heard it.
"What are you doing?" Kane asked, looking down his body at his injured leg, at where Lena lifted his foot to get a grip on the heel of his boot.
"Kane," she said, looking into his eyes. "I need you to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Let all of it out."
"I..." Kane hesitated, but Lena only held his gaze. He nodded and breathed in, and Jack found himself breathing with him: a slow, controlled inhale, a slow, controlled exhale...
On the end of that exhale, Lena ripped Kane's boot free, exposing his foot, his swollen ankle. Jack gasped at the sight of it. "Hold him!" Lena ordered as Kane made a choked sound of agony, having no breath left to scream. He wept and thrashed as though Lena were torturing him, begging her to stop as Lena took his mangled foot between her glowing hands.
And then he fell deathly still. "Kane!" Redden cried, funneling a clumsy Cure into him.
"Leave him," Lena barked. "He's only passed out."
"It is for the best," Orin said, resting a hand on Redden's shoulder, shaking now from his efforts not to cry.
Lena's Cures continued. Jack watched them through his aether sight, their wonderful construction. Lena worked with admirable focus, folding the aether into Kane's aura with a skill Jack had never known was possible, but that aura... Jack was no healer, but even he could see that that aura, the body beneath it, was broken. It was so badly broken. Kane's soul drank the spells in, none of the aether going to waste, and that at least was good - it meant he was nowhere near death - but the spells made little difference, like blowing against a hurricane.
He saw Lena growing tired, saw her spells flagging, the perfection of their design slipping, until finally one of them fell apart as she cast it. Though her face remained focused, impassive, Jack saw the tears streaming down her face. She can feel his pain, he thought. Was that why she cried? Or were they only tears of sympathy for her friend? Like the tears Redden shed for his son. Like the tears Jack realized he was shedding now. He couldn't imagine the sort of pain that would make a man like Kane weep like a child, the sort of pain that would come from an injury that looked like this one.
Jack knelt beside Lena as she gave up, as she sat back on her heels and let her hands fall to her sides. He rubbed her shoulders, feeling her labored breaths beneath his hands. She was a strong mage, but how many spells had that been? Not enough, he thought.
"We have to get him back to the Lake," Lena said, voice hoarse.
"Tomorrow," Orin said. "It will be dark soon. Tomorrow, we shall make for Crescent Lake with all speed."
Jack nodded. He could still use the water orb. He still had that much power in him, even if it hurt to use it. After all, he couldn't possibly be hurting as badly as Kane was. As Lena was. She can feel his pain, he thought, watching Lena hobble back toward the water to wash her face. Could she also feel Jack's? He hoped not. He knew the cause of that pain - Matoya had told him that dark mages weren't meant to draw the raw aether so much - and he didn't know how he would explain it away if Lena ever asked.
It was agonizing seeing his son hurting, knowing there was nothing he could do to fix it. Lena had enough skill with her Cures to use them to soothe pain without fusing the bone, but Redden's spells were far too simple, too blunt for such fine manipulations. And both he and Lena lacked the anatomical knowledge to put Kane's ankle back together.
"Wrede can do it," Jack said, with a certainty Redden envied. "He's made the study of bones his life's work. He may lack the power himself for something like this, but he can guide Lena through the process. I know he can."
The return journey went faster than the trip out. They left their camp just before sunrise - no one had slept well, so they set out as soon as it was light enough to see - and between Jack's controlling the boat and Thad's speed spells, they passed the first houses on the edge of Crescent Lake just after midday. By the time the river spilled into the lake proper and Jack had steered them toward the docks, a cluster of sages waited for them there, warned by someone who had seen them sailing by.
"Did you get it?" Fiona asked. "The aetherite? Did you find it?"
Redden threw the cloth sack at her. "Take it," he said, "and get out of our way." He saw Wrede there, standing unobtrusively behind the others. The mages of the Lake didn't seem to think as highly of white mages, Redden thought, but just then, he would have traded all of the wise sages for one capable healer. "Wrede!" he said. "We need you!"
Wrede, to his credit, was already pressing forward. He ran a cursory glance over Kane, still laid out in the bottom of the boat, and barked at one of the apprentices nearby, "Hie to the clinic! Fetch a stretcher!" He moved in beside Lena, who hadn't left Kane's side, and when he bent to examine Kane's leg, it was his eyes rather than his hands that glowed. "Gods, what a mess," he said, shaking his head. He looked at Lena in disgust. "You fused it?"
"Not me," Lena said.
"I did," Redden admitted. "I didn't have a choice. We needed to run."
Wrede grunted. "How many more spells do you have in you?" he asked Lena.
Lena shook her head. "I've been helping him control his pain since it happened."
"Well, stop that now. I'll need your help if we have to amputate."
Kane grimaced. His face was so pale. "You're not taking my leg," he rasped.
Wrede looked Kane in the eye. "It would be the easiest solution. One cut, and we could heal the wound immediately. Putting this back together? You're looking at months, maybe years. Even then, it would never be the same as it was."
Kane shook his head, a tight, controlled gesture; Redden knew it hurt him to move even that much. "Don't care."
Wrede frowned. "Once we start, if it gets to be too much, if you change your mind-"
"No," Kane said.
"There's no shame in-"
"You're not taking my leg," Kane repeated.
"Alright," Wrede said, nodding. Then he gripped Kane's shoulder. "I want you to remember that you said that."
The stretcher arrived, carried by Jasper, one of the young men who usually guarded the Circle Chamber. To his credit, Jasper didn't seem bothered to be helping Kane, even though Kane had roughed him up at least twice before. Jack took up the stretcher's other end, while Redden walked beside it in a daze, holding Kane's hand. Kane gripped his hand fiercely, pain flickering over his face with every step, every bump of the stretcher. They'll fix it, Redden thought, trying to keep the worry out of his face, to project an air of confidence for his son's sake.
Wrede walked in the lead with Lena, both of them talking the whole way. Redden heard snatches of their conversation - talk of infections, blood clots, drifting fragments of bone - and was reminded that there was so much more to white magic than simple Cures.
He had to let go of Kane's hand when they reached the clinic - the door wasn't wide enough to admit him beside the stretcher - but when he tried to follow after, Wrede stopped him with a hand planted firmly against his chest. The white mage shook his head. "There's nothing you can do here," Wrede said. "I would ask you to stay out of the way."
"Let me through," Redden said. He started to push his way in, but another hand gripped his shoulder from behind.
"Listen to this man, my friend," Orin said. "This procedure, it will be an ugly thing. No one should have to see their child in such pain."
"Regardless, I-"
"I intend to save that leg," Wrede said, interrupting him. "To respect your son's wish, even if the pain overwhelms him and he begs me to take it. Do you have the strength to stand by and let me continue my work while he weeps?"
He didn't. He knew it instantly. Redden nodded, stepping back, and Wrede turned away. Redden watched through the open door as Jasper, with Jack's help, transferred Kane to the operating table at the room's center. Kane stifled a scream as they set him down. Lena hovered near his head, speaking soothing words, gently touching his face. Two other women in white robes bustled about the place. One, dark of hair, rummaged among shelves, pulling various potions free. The other, a stern-faced blonde, cleaned a tool with a damp cloth, then set it on a tray. Redden saw that it was a knife. The tray was full of them, knives of various sizes.
"Go," the blonde said, nodding at Jasper and Jack. "And close the door."
The two exitted, Jasper continuing down the path and away, Jack standing awkwardly beside Redden as the door clicked shut behind him. Jack shuffled his feet, clenching and unclenching his hands, but his voice was controlled as he said, "There's a waiting area out back. Shall we go there?"
"Lead the way," Redden said, impressed by the control in his own voice. It sounded steadier than he felt. He cast one last glance at the clinic door, stifling a sudden temptation to burst in and demand they let him stay, then followed Jack through the herb garden. His steps hardly faltered at all.
It was Kane's first view of the clinic, its white walls and curtained sick beds. It stank of the same sharp-smelling cleaning solution they'd used in the guard house in Cornelia, but the surfaces here gleamed. The place was clean, unnaturally clean, in a way that made Kane feel filthy and inadequate, like his injury was a blight upon an otherwise perfect room. Even Lena's white robe appeared travel-stained and dingy beside the robes the other mages wore.
Kane couldn't suppress a scream when the blonde woman set her hands on his leg, prodding the tender flesh.
"Lie still," she said curtly.
"Shh," Lena said, pressing his shoulders down, suffusing him with a soothing Cure. "I've got you."
"I told you to stop that," Wrede said.
"I'm sorry!" Lena said, and Kane saw that she was crying a little. "Do you really have to do that, Miss 'Dine?"
The blonde - 'Dine - grunted. "Are we amputating?"
"No!" Kane and Lena said together.
"Then you better be ready for more pain than this," 'Dine said.
"Here, girl," the other woman said, passing Lena a small vial. "Drink that down."
"What-?" Lena asked.
"Liquid aether," Wrede said, nodding. "It'll top up your reserves."
"Ether?" Lena squeaked, elongating the 'e'. "But that's-! We can't pay for this!"
"We wouldn't ask you to," the dark-haired woman said. "But we can't wait for your power to recover. We dare not put this off. If we're to save the leg, we do it now."
"What?" Kane said. "No! Not her!"
"Kane," Lena said, running her hand through his hair as she looked at him with calm eyes. "It has to be me."
"You'll feel it," he said, remembering a conversation they'd had long ago in Elfheim. "I don't want you to feel this."
She bent close and kissed his forehead. "I do feel it," she whispered. "I feel it now. I know how much you're hurting. Let me help, Kane."
"We need her," Wrede said. "We're wearing healer's robes, boy, but we're all of us black mages underneath. It'd take weeks for us to achieve what she can in a single day."
Lena nodded. She raised the vial and knocked it back in one gulp, then turned her head as she gagged.
The dark-haired woman cringed. "For goodness' sake! Don't sick it up! I really will make you pay for it then."
Lena nodded, coughing, and suddenly Shipman was behind her, helpfully thumping her back as she choked. "I got you some water," he said, offering her a glass.
"What's he doing here?" the blonde asked. "This isn't a time for lessons."
"The boy's fine," said the other woman. "He's watched me brew enough potions. I can use him."
"Fine," the blonde said, rolling her eyes. "Just keep him out of the way." She grabbed Kane's foot in both hands.
Kane roared as Lena held him down again. Beside her, Shipman grabbed Kane's hand. Kane squeezed it, thankful to have something to hold. He had to force his hand open when the spike of pain relented, settling back into the constant, dull ache he'd found so unbearable before.
Shipman reclaimed his hand, shaking it, rubbing where Kane had crushed his fingers.
"Sorry," Kane gasped. "Sorry, Shipman."
"You can call me Thad, you know," the boy said.
Kane barked a laugh, then hissed as the horrible blonde woman prodded him again. "Bahamut's beard! Would you lay off?"
"Kane," Lena said, smoothing his sweaty hair back and out of his eyes. "Don't blaspheme in front of the other white mages."
Wrede came over, handing a small bottle to Lena. "Oh, most of us here worship the Sisters. You blaspheme unto Bahamut all you want, young man, if it helps the pain at all." He shook his head, muttered, "You'll need it," and then turned away, busying himself at the counter.
"Here," Lena said, pressing the bottle to Kane's lips. She lifted the back of his head so he could drink. The cool liquid burned going down like Pravokan whiskey. Lena smiled, but it was a brittle smile. Kane knew it was more for his sake than because she truly felt it. "Strong enough for you?"
He nodded. He tried a smile of his own knowing as he did it that it was just as brittle as hers had been. "You don't have to get me drunk to have your way with me. I won't tell Jack."
Lena blushed, covering her mouth as a real smile broke through. "Well," she said, eyes twinkling, "if you wanted to spend more time with me, you only needed to say." It was what he had said to her on the boat. He laughed at that, even as he cried through the pain.
"I'm still here, you know," Thad said.
"Thank you," Kane said, reaching for Thad's hand again, but for some reason his fingers seemed thick and clumsy now, their grip loose. "What-?"
"It's the potion," Lena said. "Just relax. We'll be starting soon."
"What do you have to do?" he asked. He'd seen the tray full of knives.
She shook her head. "You don't need to worry about that."
He tried to push her away, but he couldn't lift his arms now. "I don't want you to feel this," he said, hearing his words slurring as he said them.
"Then try to stop thinking about it," she said. "You know the thing Jack does? Put your mind away. Don't be angry. Don't be sad. Just let your body feel the pain."
"I'll try," he said, or tried to say. He wasn't sure his throat worked anymore. I'll try. I'll try.
He was still trying when they made the first cut, when the pain sliced through him. He knew his throat worked then because he felt himself scream.
Thad watched. He could do nothing else. It could be me lying there, he thought. But Kane had saved him. So he stayed. And he watched. And he held Kane's hand.
They had to cut the leg open, revealing the bones. Thad could see the break, a white mass like a knotted tree root where Redden had fused the broken pieces back together so they could run, but there were more pieces he had missed. 'Dine picked them free with a pair of pointed silver tweezers as Wrede, eyes glowing, guided Lena's spells, supplemented them with some of his own, smaller than Lena's but efficiently targeted to stop the bleeding. And there was so much blood.
Kane was awake at first. Drugged, but awake. He screamed, and Thad could do nothing but hold his hand. The fierce grip was gone now, made slack and feeble by whatever the mages had given him. Kane's hand twitched in Thad's, shaking like an old man's. When the screaming stopped, when the hand went still, Thad stepped away and was violently ill in a bed pan he'd found in a corner. None of the white mages said anything to him about it. They simply kept working.
He helped Moira at the potions counter, fetching ingredients from the cupboards for her so that she didn't have to stop what she was doing. She brewed several potions at once, passing one to Thad as she finished it. "Force this between his lips," she said. "Do you know how to make a sleeping man swallow?" Thad did. He'd helped Lena when Orin was sick in Melmond.
The next one she had him hand to Wrede, who poured it into the open leg and worked it into the muscles with another spell. Thad watched through the aether, trying to figure out what he was doing, and realized with a jolt that some of the flesh there was dead, ripped during the violence of Kane's fall, and Wrede was trying to save it.
When Wrede shook his head and reached for one of the knives, Thad looked away. He returned to the counter, helping Moira, speeding her along with his spells, but that contribution just seemed so... small. He felt small. Helpless. Surrounded by mages who knew what they were doing, who crafted spells with a skill beyond Thad's understanding, Thad realized how little he knew.
Jack rubbed his eyes, slumped on the bench behind the clinic. The breeze, cooler today as the cold front moved in, stirred the windchime. Jack knew it was meant to be a comforting sound, but it only served to remind him of his own arrival here, of hearing its music outside as Iris had treated his burns. He shoved the memories away, trying instead to remember the mine and their flight from the monster they'd found there. "I wasn't able to get us far - the aether there threw off my senses - but I knew the general direction. And when we came out behind the thing, we ran. You know the rest."
"Hmm," Orin said, nodding. He asked no questions. Jack knew the monk had heard the tale already from both Redden and Thad, but he had asked Jack to tell it again. To distract him, Jack thought, and to give Redden something to listen to besides the screaming inside.
It was quiet now save for the chimes, had been for hours. When the screaming had stopped, it had taken Jack and Orin together to hold Redden back and stop him from breaking down the clinic's back door. The bard sat between them on the bench now, head in his hands, motionless save for his deep, even, deliberate breaths.
"This evil eye creature," Orin said, "Have you any inkling what it was?"
"None," Jack said. "It wasn't natural, I know that. An aetheric mutation."
Orin nodded. "My people have tales of such things. My home in the north, it is what you mages call an aether waste. The magic there sometimes produces these aberrations. Giant insects. Or creatures with enlarged limbs. The presence of so much aether alters the physical form."
"You drew from it," Redden said, startling Jack. He'd been so quiet through the whole of Jack's tale. "Didn't you? You drew from me before the Teleport, but you kept casting as we fled. More than you should have been able."
"Yes," Jack said, feeling a blush creep up his face at the admission. "I didn't see any other options."
"That is not good," Orin said. "Not good at all. Why did you say nothing of this earlier?"
Jack shrugged, motioning toward the clinic behind them. "I didn't think it was relevant. We had larger concerns."
"Your health concerns us as well," Orin said, shaking his head. "Did it do anything to you?"
"I don't think so," Jack said. "It... it was painful though. Not like when I draw from people."
"This corrupted aether is within you, and yet you have continued using your spells all this time? You will make yourself sick. You must draw from me again."
"I don't really need-"
"Now, young man," Orin said, his voice stern. "Do not argue."
Redden shrugged. "The desert tribes know things about aether, lad. Things even mages don't understand. Do as he says."
"I... Alright..." Jack hesitated, but Orin watched him expectantly, his wrinkled face a mask of impatience. Jack drew.
Orin nodded. "And now from Redden."
"I really don't think-"
Orin raised an eyebrow.
Jack sighed. "Fine! Fine." He drew again, though he had to force himself to do it, like gulping water on an already full stomach. He felt a corona light his eyes as their power filled him, a rush of strength that forced some of the tiredness back. He closed his eyes, ashamed at how good it felt, how that ever-present ache in his chest eased only when he did this. It did seem to help.
Full of aether as he was, he sensed it when the spells inside the clinic stopped. He was ready, already facing the clinic's back door when it opened and Wrede came out, wiping blood from his hands though his white robe was spattered with it. His hair was slick with sweat, his breathing heavy. When he frowned, he looked so like his mother. The chime tolled gently as the breeze spread the smells of antiseptic that clung to him - the tangy scent of thyme and echinacea - and the metallic scent of blood.
Redden leaped to his feet, jostling Jack in his haste. "How is he?"
"Sleeping now," Wrede said. Redden started to head inside, but Wrede stopped him. "A moment, first. I feel I should warn you-"
Redden went pale. "Did you take the leg?"
"No," Wrede said quickly, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "No, not that. I only wanted to prepare you for how gruesome it looks." He motioned toward the bench, then walked forward to stand in front of it as Redden reluctantly sat back down. Wrede looked from Redden to Jack to Orin, then nodded as he addressed them. "First thing I want to say is it looks much worse than it is. We had to excise some of the muscle - too long with poor blood flow, it was beyond healing. The bones were our primary concern. He'll need more spells, many more, but we have to let his body recover for a time first. Could be days, could be only a few hours as he's young and healthy. Meanwhile, we've left the flesh open to better access the bone until we're finished with it. You needn't worry about infections setting in. We're all of us adept with cleansing them."
"Yes, yes," Redden said. "I'm familiar with white magic. You don't have to explain yourself to me."
"I feel I must," Wrede said. He went on in that calm, explanatory tone that Jack knew he always used with patients and children. "We had to re-break the bone where it was fused. That was most of our work today."
Redden's head drooped, and Jack knew he blamed himself for that part.
Wrede clearly knew it too, for he knelt down to look Redden in the eye. "I foresee at least three more procedures to put him back together properly, but he'll need no more taking apart. The worst of it's over. The worst of the pain is over." Wrede put a hand on Redden's shoulder. "We were able to undo what you did. I want you to know that. Any lasting problems he may have will be from the initial break, not through any fault of yours."
Redden's shoulders slumped, his relief a palpable thing. Jack had never seen the man look so vulnerable. "Thank you," Redden said softly, his lips trembling. "Can I see him?"
Wrede nodded, motioning Redden toward the clinic. Redden rushed inside. Wrede followed a few steps behind him, but Orin hung back, remaining on the bench. Jack realized the old man was watching him. "Are you about to say something wise?" Jack asked.
Orin shook his head. "Am I correct in assuming you have no desire to go in there?"
Jack hung his head. "I don't think I can. I... I'm a coward."
"No, not a coward." Orin patted his shoulder. "I saw the look on your face when Wrede described their procedure. I did not realize you had no stomach for these things."
"It's not that," Jack said, shaking his head. "It's the setting."
"Ah, yes. You must have spent more time in this place than you care to recall."
"Yes," he said, nodding. "I practically lived here that first year." He'd been so young, so... confused. He hadn't understood why the people who were dressed like his mother had kept hurting him. He knew better now, but the memory of that pain and fear still haunted him. Jack sighed. "As much as I care for Kane, I don't think I can bear to see him on that table."
"You needn't, then. Kane is sleeping now. You can see him when he is awake," Orin said. Jack felt the pressure on his shoulder increase as the monk pushed himself to his feet, then Orin patted him again and tottered off inside.
Jack stayed on the bench, leaning his head back against the wall as he closed his eyes, listening to that damnable windchime and trying to remember Iris's voice instead.
When he felt Thad's approach, the boy's aura bright against the aether, Jack opened his eyes in surprise. The boy stepped softly as he came out of the clinic, looking ragged, his hair sweaty. The eidolon rode in his shirt collar, nuzzled against his neck, and Jack was sure that little face looked deeply concerned. Thad walked past the bench, his steps shaking. He didn't seem to have noticed Jack there. "Thad?" Jack said, standing quickly and stepping toward the boy. "Were you in there all this time?"
Thad didn't answer. Instead, he dropped to all fours and threw up into the irises.
Jack turned away, his stomach flipping in sympathy. The boy wretched until nothing more came up, gagging as he choked on his sobs. Jack pulled him up then, guided him toward the bench. "Come, sit. You look exhausted."
Thad cried, taking slow steps, and Jack held his shoulders in case his body gave out on the way, but the boy made it to the bench and flopped down. Jack was alarmed at how pale he looked. The eidolon chirped, Thad raised a shaking hand to pat the creature, though his eyes stared ahead at nothing. He's going to pass out, Jack thought. But he didn't. The two of them sat in silence, Jack watching Thad, until at last Thad stopped sobbing long enough to speak. "They had to cut him open."
"I know," Jack said.
"He was still awake when they did it."
"I know. Sleep spells don't work against physical pain. It breaks them, every time."
"They could have drugged him."
"They did, as much as they dared. If they'd done more, it would have interfered with their healing spells. They shouldn't have let you see any of that. They should have sent you out. Why in Ramuh's name did you make yourself watch?"
"I had to," Thad said. "He saved me. I owed it to him to stay."
"Gods, Thad," Jack said, shaking his head. "That's… that's not…"
Thad shook his head, his lips pressed thin, but his shoulders shook. Jack sighed, putting an arm around him as Thad continued to cry, great gasping sobs as only a child can produce.
And still he watched, Jack thought, ashamed now that he hadn't followed Redden inside, that he still didn't want to. Even Thad's stronger than I am. Jack pulled the boy close, trying to comfort him as he cried.
Lena woke in one of the curtained sick beds, still dressed in her blood-spattered robe. She'd come away cleaner than Wrede had. Unlike Wrede, she'd spent most of the healing at the head of the table, since she didn't need to touch the leg to heal it. She'd stroked Kane's face as she worked, wiped the sweat from his brow, and tried to focus on the sound of Wrede's voice, the feel of his aura tugging at hers as he guided her spells, rather than on Kane's ragged breathing, his occasional screams. After hours of that effort, that concentration, she'd barely made it to the bed before she collapsed.
She didn't know how long she'd slept. The curtains were drawn around the bed, blocking the clinic's few windows. She stood stiffly, her feet bare against the cool tile floor, and stepped through the curtains into the warmth of the clinic proper. Afternoon, she thought, examining the light from the windows. Nearly evening. The sun came in at an angle, falling right across the potions counter against the far wall, but the rest of the clinic was more shaded, lit by neither candles nor lamps.
Amandine stood at the counter, her back to Lena, and if she'd noticed Lena there she gave no sign of it. The counter looked as if an earthquake had hit it, with bits of herbs scattered here and there and splashes of liquid. Amandine patiently wiped down the jars of ingredients one by one before she put them back in their places.
Lena went to the operating table where Kane still slept. She pressed her hand to his forehead, checking for fever, but instead found him sweating but also cool and clammy, which was very nearly as bad as fever would have been. It meant his body was having trouble regulating itself. They'd worked to minimize the blood loss, but they had cut him open, after all. Wordlessly, Lena knelt by the coal stove in the corner and looked inside. A bit of rummaging with the poker revealed a still-glowing ember, a bit more rummaging had that glow spreading to the fresh coals she added.
'Dine said nothing to her when Lena approached the counter and opened the lower cabinet where she thought the bedding would be - she assumed, correctly it turned out, that this clinic was organized the same as the ones at White Hall, which had been the same as her father's back home. Perhaps they're all like that, she thought. She didn't know. Yet another thing my training didn't cover.
She covered Kane with a thin blanket. He murmured in his sleep as she wiped his brow. Only then did she check the leg.
They'd elevated it on a firm cushion, putting Lena in mind of a hunk of meat on a butcher's block. A hunk of meat, Lena thought, because she knew that's exactly what it looked like beneath the loose bandages, red and raw and exposed. She thought to examine the wound, but the bandages were slick and sticky with one of Moira's healing solutions, so Lena left them alone. Instead, she prodded at his foot, left bare by the bandages. He'd broken three toes in the fall, and Lena had fixed those at least, clean, angled breaks that she had been able to knit back together on her own that first day, but the toes had gone black now, their deep bruises rising to the surface. Lena funneled a spell into them.
"Save your spells, girl," 'Dine said. "We're not wasting more ethers on you just so you can make cosmetic changes."
Lena didn't spare her a glance. "It's not just cosmetic. I'm sure these bruises hurt."
"Least of his problems, I'd say."
"Yes, but it's a problem I can fix."
'Dine grunted as if to say it made no difference to her.
"Where are the others?" Lena asked, mostly surprised that Redden wasn't standing vigil over his son.
'Dine shrugged. "The sages took them off somewhere. They had questions."
"They couldn't wait?"
'Dine shrugged again. She didn't turn around, only kept clinking jars together as she put them away. Lena very pointedly did not grumble at the woman as she concentrated on Kane's toes again. They worked in silence, each on their own tasks, and Lena settled into the act of healing, sinking herself into Kane's golden yellow aura as she smoothed and bolstered it with her own. Only minor improvements, she knew, as Kane's body was too worn and tired for more than that, but she came back to herself satisfied that she had made some small difference despite Amandine's bitter dismissal of her efforts.
She straightened, stretching her lower back, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Amandine watching her. 'Dine nodded, and in the yellow, slanted sunlight her eyes glittered with the faintest trace of a blue-green corona from reading the aether. "It was well done," 'Dine said. "That, and your work earlier."
Lena only stared. She could feel Amandine's frankness. Though it must pain Amandine to admit it, she did admire Lena's skill with healing. Admired and envied it. Lena detected the sadness of someone who had long ago resigned herself to the inability to change her circumstances. She wondered how to respond. Should she thank 'Dine for the compliment? Apologize?
As she pondered what to say, the door handle rattled, and Lena turned to the entrance just as the door burst open. Thad staggered in, his arms full of a cloth-wrapped bundle, one that looked nearly too heavy for him. "Hi!" he said, somewhat breathlessly.
"Moira's out," 'Dine said sharply.
"Not here for Moira," Thad said, shifting the bundle in his arms. "A little help here?"
"What is- Oh!" Lena recognized the oilcloth from the boat that they had wrapped the ochu tentacle in. "Oh, my goodness! How could I have forgotten?" she said, hurrying over to him.
'Dine frowned as the two of them hefted it onto the counter. "Who says you can use this space?"
"You'll want this, I'm sure," Lena said, carefully unwrapping the cloth. The once-firm appendage seemed squishy now. It squelched under her touch, and it stank of damp and swamp.
"Sacred Sisters!" 'Dine said, though she wrinkled her face in a grimace and covered her nose with the sleeve of her white robe. "Is that what I think it is?"
Lena pierced the green flesh with her fingers, sticking them right in the aloe, checking the consistency. Bracing herself for the worst, she took a tentative sniff. "It's still good!" she said, sighing in relief. "Can I-?"
But 'Dine was already opening cupboards, finding the crucibles and vials and tripod stands. "We've no pots big enough for that. We'll have to do it in batches. Boy, run and fetch Moira. She's better at potions than I am."
"Where is she?" Thad asked.
"You know the house with red shutters on the south road? If she's not there, they'll know how to find her."
Thad nodded and scurried away.
"Thank you," Lena said, relieved that she didn't have to beg to use the workspace, realizing only then that she had been worried she would need to. She looked for a bowl to scrape the aloe into. "Looks like I'll be able to repay you for that ether after all."
"Girl, this much elixir will pay for every potion in the clinic! We've not had elixir since-" She cut off abruptly. Lena felt a seething anger from the woman.
"Since when?" Lena prompted, though she thought she knew the answer.
'Dine snorted, and that anger, that bitterness, burned through Lena like the sharp scent of antiseptic in her nose. "Since Iris wasted it on that boy all those years ago." She busied herself setting up cauldrons. Lena kept quiet, not trusting herself to speak in the face of this woman's ire. 'Dine continued, "It was the last of our supply. Iris herself would still be alive if we'd had any when she took ill. Guess we can blame that on him too."
A long silence followed. 'Dine prepared the workspace, then turned to face Lena. She looked down at the rotting tentacle on the counter and raised an eyebrow. Lena realized she should have been processing it all this time, extracting the aloe for their work, but her hands had gone still. She cleared her throat. "Why must you blame him at all?" Lena asked, her voice quiet and hoarse. "It's not like he chose-"
"Did he?" 'Dine said, looking Lena in the eyes. "Far as I can tell, when Iris found him out in the countryside, he was already burned and half mad from the pain. No one knows how it happened. There's more than a few here that think he caused the fire himself."
"That's not true!" Lena said.
"You ever ask him?" 'Dine said, raising her voice now. "Because I have. And he won't answer. Lukahn says the boy's trouble, and he's given me no reason to think otherwise."
"If you knew him-"
'Dine slapped her hands against the counter, rattling cauldrons in their metal stands. "Girl, I healed him. Me, and Iris, and Wrede together. And I suffered the sages' wrath for it, I did. They'd have let him die for that prophecy, but I held my oath!" She righted a cauldron she'd knocked askew, took a steadying breath. "He shouldn't have survived. I was there, girl. I saw the extent of his burns. They were days old – rife with infection. You've seen his skin, haven't you? You think people just come away looking like that after a year of healing? He's missing half of the fingers on his left hand, did you know that? Wears a stuffed glove to cover it up. There was nothing we could do for them, between the burns and the infection. If he hadn't already had a firm grasp of ice magic at that age, the fever alone would have killed him. Whatever kept him alive... It's not natural."
Is something wrong with your hand? She'd asked him that once. He had cringed away from her in embarrassment. She hadn't understood that back then. Lena thought back on all the times Jack had held her hand, always his right hand, hiding what she now knew was a deformity, one he found humiliating. "It's... That's... not his fault!" Lena said lamely.
'Dine snorted. "That hardly matters." She shoved into Lena's space so that she could reach the tentacle and began processing it as Lena should have done, hands moving swiftly as she scraped the green flesh into the bowl. "I'm Cornelian. Did anyone tell you? It was the only home I'd ever known. And I lost it. Moved here after the mage war."
"I'm sorry," Lena said. She felt that sadness.
"And no sooner had I made a life here than Lukahn told us that boy would destroy us all."
"Jack wouldn't do that," Lena said.
"Do you know how I think he survived?"
Lena shook her head.
'Dine looked away. "The only way he could have made it on his own out there for as long as he did was if he was drawing off every living thing on the mountainside to sustain himself. I have no proof, but I believe he's a dark mage. Like those that took Cornelia from me. I believe it in my soul."
"No," Lena whispered.
"Secrets and lies. That's all he is."
"Bitterness," Lena said. Tears pricked at her eyes but she blinked them away. She was looking at 'Dine through her soul sight now, reading her. Her face felt hot, and it wasn't the heat of the coal stove. "You... you're nothing but bitterness. And envy. And anger. You didn't flee Cornelia because of the dark mages. You lie to yourself. You followed..." She stifled a sob, feeling 'Dine's heartbreak as though it were her own. "You followed her. Moira. But she's never loved you like that and she never will."
Amandine's eyes widened. "You're a soul reader!"
"I am," Lena said. "And you're wrong about him. I've read his soul, just as I read yours. I would know if he was what you say. I would know."
"Girl," 'Dine said, reaching for her.
"Don't touch me!" Lena snapped, furiously scrubbing the tears away, trying to see reality again, to see the exit. "You're poison, that's what you are. You say you're a white mage? You don't know the meaning of the words."
She felt more pain, 'Dine's pain. Harm no living thing, Lena thought, but her own words had hurt this woman. She tried to tell herself she didn't care, but she did. Regret tore at her, and 'Dine's sadness, and her own, and... And it was all too much. She turned for the door and fled toward the lake, toward the water, hoping it could wash the pain away, knowing it wouldn't.
It was full dark before the questions stopped, before the sages let Jack go. He headed toward the clinic with purposeful strides. Though he still had little desire to visit the place, he was anxious to check on Kane, to check on Lena if he was being honest with himself. Had she gotten any rest at all? Or had she continued to heal Kane this whole time?
He walked alone. Redden had left the Circle Chamber hours before - Jack had thought for sure Redden would have attacked the sages if they had tried to keep him from his son's side any longer than they did - and Orin had remained behind. While Jack had answered their questions about the beast in the cave and the condition of the mine, Orin claimed he had things to tell them about the ruins he and Lena had explored while Jack and the others were fetching the stone.
It seemed to have been a fruitful trip, at least. Fiona and her colleagues had begun examining the aetherite, which had the sages in a frenzy. The quality of the stone was poor, they said, but the quantity more than made up for that. There had been serious talk of sending an expedition north to hunt for more, until Orin mentioned the ochu they'd encountered on the way. That had only rattled the sages further, with talk of having access to elixirs again, before master Randell pointed out the village's complete lack of combat-trained mages. They had asked about the ochu, but neither Jack nor Orin could tell them much, not having been present when it attacked.
The clinic was well lit when he arrived, white walls practically shining in the dark, but Jack's chest still tightened at the sight. The place still had that effect on him, all these years later. He steeled himself before he stepped inside, but the place smelled clean now, looked clean. Jack didn't see the blood he had smelled so strongly earlier. Kane was still on the table, still sleeping. Redden sat on a stool beside him, eyes closed in what might have been prayer. Moira and Amandine worked together at the potions counter, brewing a large batch of something. Thad sat on a stool beside the long counter, looking bored. The blue-skinned eidolon sat on his shoulder, her posture and expression identical to his.
"What are you up to?" Jack said.
Thad pointed at the counter. "Makin' elixir. I'm helping."
"That he is," said Moira. "Those speed tricks of his, they're something else."
"Is Wrede with you?" 'Dine asked.
Jack shook his head. "The sages are still talking. He'll be along."
'Dine nodded, stirring one of the cauldrons. Her eyes glowed, as did Moira's. Jack checked their progress, but quickly realized they needed no assistance from him. The two white mages worked well together, as they had for years, and they had the situation well in hand. His eyes scanned the room, passing over Redden at Kane's bedside, and checked the wall of beds, their corners shadowed by the curtains there. Though one of the beds was rumpled from recent use, all of them were empty. "Where's Lena?" he asked.
"She left," Amandine said. "We... We had words."
"What did you say to her?" Jack demanded.
'Dine shook her head. "Ask her, if it bothers you. But there's things I didn't say as well. One of them being that I'm sorry."
"We didn't know she was a soul reader," Moira said.
"What difference does that make?"
"She says she's read your soul," 'Dine said. Her shoulders slumped. "She read mine too. And she found it sorely lacking, I'd say." Moira patted her friend's shoulder, but 'Dine shook her head. "She wasn't wrong. I've treated you ill since the day you came here, Jack Ashward. I see that now."
"You healed me," Jack said.
"Not for the right reasons. I did it for pride. Because the oath said I should. Not because I believed you were worth saving. For that, I'm sorry."
Jack stared. He couldn't think what to say to that.
But 'Dine paid him no mind. Her back was to him as she kept stirring her cauldrons, one after another, coaxing the aether into its proper forms. "Tell her when you find her. Tell her I'm sorry. I'll tell her myself if she'll see me again. But I understand if she'd rather not."
Jack turned and left the clinic, his aether sight already tracing Lena's trail. He could feel her at the lake, in the water, and he hurried after her, wishing he had thought to grab a lantern for her. How would she see? The wind off the water bit into him as he reached the docks, autumn shifting into winter in earnest, and he pulled his coat closer around him. Gods, she couldn't be swimming in this? he thought, but her trail faded into the water just off one of the docks, dispersed by the wind and the waves. "Lena?" he called, eyes scanning the darkness for her.
"I'm here," came a soft reply from some distance away.
Jack focused in that direction, sighing with relief when he saw her aura there lingering lightly over a boat, not swimming after all. It was the boat they'd taken up the mountain, and she was huddled in the bottom of it. When she reached over the side and grabbed a rope trailing in the water, Jack saw that the boat was still tied to the dock, though it had floated out as far as the rope allowed.
"Hold on," he said. "I've got you." He shifted the aether, reaching out for her through the orb of water. It was still in his pocket from before, but he was momentarily surprised at how easily it worked for him, how swiftly he had a current moving through the lake. He brought her in, tied off the boat, then reached out a hand to help her up. "I knew I should have brought a lantern," he grumbled, berating himself.
She didn't move, only sat in the bottom of the boat, arms wrapped around her knees. She didn't even look up at him. The tracks of her tears glittered faintly in the starlight.
"Ah," he said. "It's like that, is it?" He sat cross-legged on the edge of the dock, looking out across the lake. The wind wormed its way into his bones, but still he sat with her, knowing she needed the water. "Amandine told me you argued."
He saw her nod from the corner of his eye, but she didn't say anything.
"She apologized, if that helps."
"She did?" Lena asked, a half-croaked sob.
"Mm," Jack said, nodding. "Not just to you, but to me. I think that's the first time she's ever been kind to me."
She sniffled and hid her face in her drawn-up knees. Jack almost climbed in the boat beside her - he wanted so badly to hold her while she cried - but he held back, watching her through his aether sight, the way her aura blended into the lake, the bits of water in her soul, how bright they were, and- He stopped, cursing himself. Am I really ogling over her aura like a dog drooling over his meat? Gods, but he was! Despite having drawn from both Orin and Redden earlier, he still wanted her, was still tempted. I've grown far too accustomed to drawing on people. It has to stop.
"I said horrible things to her!" Lena said, pulling him back from his thoughts.
"You?"
"Yes, I... hurt her. I wanted to hurt her. She was just so..." She shook her head, hiding her face again.
"Oh, Lena," he said, suppressing a chuckle. "Whatever you said, I'm sure she had it coming."
"No! It was... it was cruel. I shouldn't have said it."
"You've such a pure heart," Jack said, shaking his head. He looked out across the lake, the moon's reflection a silver sliver against the wind-chopped surface of the water, the trees sighing on the shore. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said, motioning toward that view. "Growing up here, I always thought this must be the most perfect place in the world. It's how I imagined Ramuh's garden from the stories. Every time people like Amandine were cruel to me, I would think about running away. But I had such trouble imagining leaving. I was so sure I would never find another place as beautiful as this one."
Lena sniffled, looking where he pointed. "It's lovely," she said quietly.
You're lovely, he thought, but he didn't dare say it out loud. Instead, he said, "There's this one spot - on the far side of the lake, past the last houses - where I used to sit when I wanted to be alone. It's right on the water. I'd like to show it to you. Will you walk with me?" He offered her his hand again, and this time she took it. He felt the coldness of her fingers even through his thin leather gloves as he pulled her up to stand beside him. She was shaking from the cold. "Gods, that wind! It's awful!" He pulled her close, rubbing her arms to warm her, but when he tried to cast his warming spell, the aether squirmed away from him. He reached for it, but his senses brushed up against Lena's aura - she was so close, so tempting. He closed his eyes, fighting that urge, forcing it down with every scrap of control he had. He would not draw from her. He would not.
When he opened his eyes again, he found hers looking up at him, full of concern. "Why do you do that?" she asked. "Pull away from me? Is it... Is it because I'm a soul reader? Because of what Redden said?"
He shook his head. "No, it's me. I... I'm not good at this."
"Why?" she asked.
"I'm broken," he said simply.
"I fix broken things."
He sighed. "You can't fix this," he said, taking her hand, squeezing it. "Come on. It's this way."
She nodded, letting him pull her along without complaint.
The path was dark. Jack lit the mage lanterns on their tall poles as he passed them, noticing only then that Lena's robe and hair were both damp. "Were you swimming?"
She nodded again. "But the water was too cold."
He cursed. Neither warming spells nor drying spells did him much good when the aether still roiled within him. He unwound the scarf he wore and draped it over her shoulders, wrapping it around her neck up to her chin. "Better?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Why would you swim in this weather?"
"Why do you say you're broken?"
"I-" The hollow tugged at him, a most insistent pull. For a moment, he felt he would implode before he pulled free of it again. He shook his head. "I can't talk about that now. Truly, I can't."
"When then?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said.
"Ever?"
"I don't know!"
"Whatever this is, you can tell me!"
"No!" She flinched back from him, and he realized he'd raised his voice. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Gods..." Breathe, he told himself, but it was Kane's voice he heard. Count to ten.
"Jack," she said, her voice breaking. "Please. I worry about you. I care about you. Don't you trust me?"
"I want to." He pulled her against him. "Gods, Lena, I don't even trust myself." The hollow screamed, a yawning void inside of his soul, but he tried to ignore it, tried to focus on her. He held her, resting his cheek against her damp hair, clenching his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering. It was not a tender embrace, nor a comfortable one, but he held her, letting her cling to his shirt as she cried.
The mage lanterns dimmed, but Jack lacked the control to light them again. He held her, and he didn't let go until her sniffles subsided.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I came looking for you to offer comfort, but I've only made it worse, haven't I?"
"No," she said. "I needed you."
"I doubt that." He chuckled ruefully, tilting her chin up to look at her properly. She looked up at him with such trust in her eyes, like he could make everything better, and for a moment, he almost felt like he could. He stroked her cheek, wishing he could do it without the gloves, to feel his hand against her skin. He sighed, pulling away from her, taking her hand again. "You deserve so much more than I can give you. We'll both become a pillar of ice if I hold you much longer."
She nodded, looking away again with a hint of a smile to her lips. Jack was almost certain she was blushing, though it was impossible to tell by starlight alone. She squeezed his hand. "Show me your spot."
"Yes," he said, awkward now. "It's just through here."
He held back from her as they walked to his favorite place, a boulder-strewn copse of pine sloping gently down toward the lake. He held back the satisfied thrill that tried to run through him when she gasped at that view, starlight on water and shadows beneath the trees. They stood in perfect silence. He held back, numbing himself, until he was finally able to pull up his warming spell, passing it through their linked hands. The pleased little moan she gave as the spell took hold nearly broke his hold - it was all too easy to imagine the things he could do to draw that sound out of her again - but still he held firm. "Better?" he asked. "Shall I walk you back?"
She nodded, and in silence they walked back the way they had come, Jack leading them along their fading aura trails in the dark until he could see the lights of the clinic ahead of them. He walked her to the gate, and she turned to face him, seeming to realize he would go no farther. She reached up, unwinding the scarf she wore. She held it up, and Jack ducked his head so that she could drape it over his shoulders as he had done for her. It brought his face so close to hers, close enough to kiss her, but still he held back.
She blushed, as if she knew what he'd been thinking. "Thank you," she said.
He nodded. "I'll... I'll check in on you when I can."
"I'll be waiting," she said. Quickly, she leaned in, planted a kiss on his cheek, and then turned away.
He watched her go through the clinic door without looking back at him, then he pulled the scarf up over his face, hiding the place where her lips had touched him. He shivered, cold inside and out, unsure what to do with himself now that she was gone, now that he no longer had to hold back. He walked back to the lake, and he was more than halfway around it before the aether within him calmed and he felt steady once again.
Author's Note: 6/4/21 - I'm not a medical expert, and I apologize if I've offended anyone who is by getting things wrong here, as I'm sure I must have. I drew inspiration from several real life injuries here. Warning: squick ahead for gore, blood, and medical procedures.
First, a young man I went to high school with was injured in a (American) football match when someone fell hard on his lower leg. The bone broke cleanly, but the muscle died and had to be removed. He spent several weeks with the wound open/packed so it could drain properly (ew) and heal from the inside out. He missed a lot of school over it. I hadn't realized you could "break" a muscle, but that's basically what happened. I just remember how shrunken his leg looked afterwards and how long it took him to recover.
Second, the shattered ankle comes directly from the time my grandmother stepped off the porch wrong. She needed soooo many surgeries, and had to have pins all over to hold floating shards of bone in place long enough for them to heal. I helped out with her PT sessions a few times. The ankle still bothers her sometimes, more than 20 years later.
Lastly, when I was 18, I had a painful stomach bug that wouldn't go away. At least, I had thought it was a stomach bug. When I finally went to the hospital because I could feel myself getting frighteningly weaker, I learned that it was actually a ruptured appendix and the doctors told me they caught it mere hours from my death. Since it was an emergency surgery, the incision was huge. I, too, had to spend time with the wound open to drain (ew) and needed weeks to recover. I remember feeling helpless. I remember how even the simplest things hurt. But I also distinctly remember the day I woke up and said, "Okay, I don't care how much it hurts. I am going to get well again." And I did. And Kane will too, I promise.