- From The Journal of Eratus Riverwood
So many questions sprang to my mind, which I was about to ask when she collapsed.
“Whoa, easy there!” I caught her with my arm. Her clothes were drenched with sweat and blood, making me wonder how much she had lost. I pulled her inside, closed the door with my other hand, and turned towards Flemeth.
“I hope you don’t mind this, but-“
The witch was gone, along with any hint of her presence. Tea, teacups, and even the chair she sat upon. All except for the journal resting atop the table.
“There was an arcane ripple a moment ago. I believe the conjurer has departed through magical means.”
That told me little I didn’t already know, but it was clear Flemeth didn’t want to be seen. Still, the journal remained, which meant our deal still stood.
“This individual has suffered massive fluid loss. Her internal systems are operating at critical capacity as a result.”
“Since when did you care about others?” I thought.
“After analysing our path, I have arrived at the conclusion that repeated acts of altruism have yielded a reciprocation in equal or greater proportion. Therefore, I have elected to assist. The most severe puncture can be found near the mid-section.”
Funny, it took the ancient being that long to figure out. I followed the Lorekeeper’s hint and found two punctures peeking through the cloth along her waist. Bandaged but poorly as blood seeped through. Arrow-sized. Clean placement. No panic-fire. Whoever landed these hits was either really lucky or a really good shot.
I eased Kallian prone along the floor, then tapped her shoulder.
“You’re bleeding out,” I said, while reaching into my sack and pulling out a fresh cloth. “I’m going to stop it.”
“D-Don’t mind me.” She attempted to move but failed, her voice hoarse and eyes shut with weakness. “We need to go, or else… or else…”
“We are going nowhere. You above all.” I lifted her shirt and the dirty bandage, getting a gasp of pain from Kallian and seeing the full scale of the ruptures. The arrowheads were removed, probably by her, but doing so tore more flesh on the way out than in.
“Who did this to you?”
“Blackstone Mercs… Taoran…”
“Them?” The surprise of the answer didn’t give me pause. Years of first-aid under combat took over as I wrapped the bandage tight.
Kallian didn’t answer, or couldn’t. Neither of which boded well for her condition so I didn’t press her and focused on my work. Taoran’s mercenaries struck me as underhanded, but mass kidnapping and assault? They always took me as the sort to work at the limits of the law, not against it.
Then again, what counted as lawful here?
I pulled the bandage taut and tied the knot to maintain pressure. However, there was no grunt of pain or movement from Kallian.
“Kallian.” I tapped her shoulder. “Kallian, can you hear me?”
No response.
“Her vital signs are faltering.”
I feared for the worst, placing a finger against her neck, feeling her pulse come back rapid and weak. She lost too much blood already. I sifted through my sack and came up with more bandages and some common poultices, useless in the situation.
Which left one option.
I placed both hands over her, weaving the healing inscription. I called upon the Light in the shape of my will, before it sputtered much like before. I pressed and unveiled memories I had long-suppressed.
I had been running from myself for some time now. Nobody knew what I did to be sent to the Badlands. Far from civilisation and advancement in one’s career. A dead-end for troublemakers and the incompetent. And whenever someone asked, I never lied. Only omitted.
Among veterans we say the Second War never truly ended. Battles continued to be fought, most notably among various Horde remnants, but that was but part of the story. Few knew of what we inflicted on our fellow humans, especially in the old Kingdom of Alterac.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
I remembered Scarlet Banners flying atop a keep, another Alteri castle repurposed for the Alliance and below, in a smoke-filled dungeon, we set upon our work. The Alteri had resisted the Alliance for years, long after their king betrayed mankind. It was in those circumstances that the Scarlet Order, founded by veterans of the Second War, were brought to pacify the region.
Nobody knew just what they were. A reclusive group among the various factions within the Knights of the Silver Hand only that they brought results. I was one of the few inducted to support them. And aid I did.
I always remembered it as a girl in a red dress, or maybe a woman, or a man. Just the loudest of countless names and faces, of the same thing playing out the same way. They pleaded as inquisitors with their instruments coaxed and demanded confession. Secrets, guilt, anything and everything. And when their bodies gave out, I came in, restoring them so the suffering could begin anew.
Countless confessions. Countless purges. All in the name of the “greater good. A necessary duty as the generalship saw it, who lived and saw what the Second War wrought upon us.
And as Kallian’s breath hitched below my hands, past wove with present until I saw another innocent begging to be placed out of their misery before their torment resumed. There were no clocks in the dungeon so the only way to know the passage of time was through the passage of prisoners. One after the other, day in day out.
The mind may justify as mine did, but the spirit always knows. And in due time, it broke the same as the others.
My powers diminished in kind, and without the ability to restore, there was no further use for me. I was sealed to silence and was shipped south. Discarded and out of sight.
I do not know if the inquisitors succeeded or what happened in the city after, but it did not change what I had done. It was no wonder I dreamt of home, of simpler times, a return to a past where I was alive, forgetting that I was but a dead man walking, one beyond redemption.
And like a body that knows not it is dead, it still reached for what it once was. Which was why I helped when I could. Every small mercy, every big sacrifice. From the child in the mines to Shianni, to Kallian, to Madame Lebois and the urchins.
Redemption lay beyond me, but here, I could still do good.
And the Light answered in kind.
It poured from my hands, bathing the room in its glow. The air warmed in its presence as the Light seeped into this world in its purest form. And thus, I willed it to set right what was wrong. To restore what had been broken. Not for my sake but for hers. And theirs.
It was never about me.
Wisps streamed out, converging on Kallian, splashing against her skin like raindrops, imbuing health where there was sickness, mending cuts and bruises and even old scars. Time was no limit as it restored all that was to what it ought to be.
The sprinkle of wisps quickened to a torrent. Colour returned to her skin, and Kallian mumbled and shifted about as if waking from a nightmare. Then she gasped, her eyes snapped open. Relief washed through me as I read her face. Confusion, shock, understanding, then…
She rolled away, spinning upright until she backed against the wall.
“Wh-, How-, ” said Kallian as she shooed away a wisp which swirled around her face like a fly, before it slapped onto a minor cut along her cheek. She yelped, scratching at her face.
“Easy there!” I said, stepping towards her. “It is only healing you.”
She drew her dagger, dropping to a practiced stance. Eyes brimming with defiance and fear.
“Whoa! Just give me a chance to explain.” I raised my palms, knowing it was not going to be easy to explain at all. “Whatever you think, it isn’t- “
“Magic!” said Kallian, who had seemed to have gotten the very impression I was trying to avoid. “That was magic, wasn’t it! You’re a mage! How else did you-“
She tried to move, but the bandage along her waist stunted her. Snarling, she sliced it free, revealing the wound beneath had healed.
“It isn’t magic,” I said. “If I did nothing you would have died.”
Kallian said nothing, but she looked toward my glowing hands, staring at them like a drawn bow. I willed the Light away upon realizing that, and the room dimmed to candlelight.
“I owe you a full explanation, but time is short,” I said. “Have I ever harmed you?”
She didn’t answer at first, but then looked as if in thought. Then she sheathed her dagger, despite keeping the distance. Progress in small steps.
Then her eyes widened.
“Shianni. The others,” she said with a lace of panic. “How long was I out?”
“Not long,” I said. “You said they were taken. The Blackstone mercenaries?”
She hesitated, and it hurt to see the distrust. But then she bit her lip and sighed.
“We thought they were traders, didn’t know until they had us all surrounded. They took everyone they could get their hands on. That foreign bitch we brought from the coast was there. Her and her guards. Taoran too.”
At least now I knew who shot her.
“Why?” I said.
She scowled at the adjacent wall. “They talked of sailing north and of how Elven blood and flesh pay for a premium.”
My stomach lurched as I listened, knowing I had a hand in this. If Taoran was involved, though, and knowing his connections, it was no wonder the city watch hadn’t intervened. But there had to be more behind an attack on this scale.
“They’ll be gone by dawn.” Kallian met my eyes, breaking me from my thoughts. “Eratus, whatever you are. I can’t stop this myself, if you help, I-I’ll do anything you ask, eve-“
“You don’t need to ask for anything, Kallian.” I cut her short. “What’s done is done, but I had a part in this, too. I’ll… explain everything else afterwards but for this, you have my sword.”
Desperation gave way to hope across her eyes.
“Time is short.” I gestured to the door. “Lead the way.”
She did, and I followed her out the street, with my sword and bare combat essentials on hand. It was a risk leaving everything else behind, but it was more likely to get lost or damaged in the fight that would inevitably ensue. Besides, nobody was going to check a deserted street like this.
As we stepped onto the main road out, I glimpsed an owl perched on a building aloft, its eyes glimmering with approval.
Maybe I didn’t need to worry.
I gave the owl a curt nod before following Kallian into the darkness.