Sheepishly, Raimie ducked his head.
“I vaulted a burning tree,” he answered, “but it was scorch my hands or burn to death! I chose the least bad option.”
“Ah. Well, that makes sense. Consistent with the burn pattern, and actually a logical decision,” Kheled said distantly. “If that was my choice, I’d have done the same thing.”
Raimie’s head jerked up, and the lack of judgment prompted a wash of relief.
“Don’t look so surprised. People do crazy things to survive when they want to live.”
“Well, the ribs were an accident,” Raimie said. “I was unintentionally caught up in a fight with some rapids, and the river won.”
The healer snorted, covering the subsequent smile behind his hand, and noisily cleared his throat.
“I knew about the chest compressions, but a separate injury in close proximity time-wise explains the lung trauma. You’re lucky the bruises on your chest and side were so noticeable otherwise I might have accidentally killed you. You weren’t breathing or conscious and had no pulse and with those combined conditions, chest compressions are the standard response, and that might have been too much shock for your body. As it is, the sun was making its first appearance of the day, so I could see well enough to insert a needle to relieve pressure on your lung and get you breathing again…”
“Wait, hang on,” Raimie interrupted. “The sun? All of this activity took place outdoors?”
“Don’t worry! I kept everything clean!”
“That’s… good, I guess. I was more concerned with how I got from a monster trying to murder me out there,” Raimie gestured toward the windows slits, “to safe in here.”
The healer shifted on the mattress.
“Oh. The explanation’s a bit drawn out I’m afraid. The short version is that I was visiting Fissid, spotted a kid about to die, and stepped in. Once I’d dispatched your assailant, I checked on you and your father, but I began treatment with you at Aramar’s insistence…”
“But the man who rescued me was hurt too,” Raimie interrupted again. “I saw him collapse…”
His eyes unfocused for a split second, realization dawning.
“My dad!” Raimie shot to his feet. “Where is he? I have to find him!”
Raimie marched toward the exit, and Kheled rolled to the opposite side of the cot, scrambling to block his progress.
“Get out of my way!” Raimie shouted. “I have to find my dad!”
He tried to maneuver past Kheled, but the other man left no openings for him to slip through.
“Your father’s alive!” the healer shouted back.
The exclamation broke through Raimie’s singular focus, and he calmed, lowering the fists he’d unconsciously raised.
“He’s recovering elsewhere and doing what you should: resting so that his body will be ready when it’s time for you to move on.”
Raimie’s jaw clenched.
“When can I see him?”
“I’ll let him know you can have visitors tomorrow morning. He can come by any time after that.”
Raimie reluctantly allowed the healer to lead him back to bed.
“In the meantime,” Kheled continued, “I’m confining you to bed rest for the remainder of today and tomorrow. I have to know that I’ve fixed everything that was wrong with you before you leave my care. Is there anything I can get you to pass the time?”
Propped up on his pillow, Raimie racked his brain for something to do while lounging in bed. Up until the last few weeks, he’d led a very active life with very little time for recreation, and even recently, all of his free time had been sacrificed to his sudden obsession with research. He couldn’t remember what he liked to do for fun.
“I’d like my things back at some point,” he eventually answered, “and if you have any books lying around, I’d love to take a look at them. But besides that, I can’t think of a single item that I require. If you like, you could stick around when you’re not busy. I’ve very rarely been off the farm and around other people, so I haven’t had many chances to talk with relative strangers. You’d make for an interesting and challenging exercise.”
“Exercise?” Kheled asked with a puzzled expression.
“You may have noticed how awkward I am?” Raimie’s face turned bright red. “That’s because I’m quite terrible when it comes to conversation.”
“So am I! I’ve never understood small talk or people’s insistence on displaying extreme enthusiasm when greeting one another, and other social situations simply baffle me.”
“Exactly!” Raimie laughed. “Everyone knows the enthusiasm is faked, so why do we do it? Why can’t we simply say what we mean?”
The companionable laughter set him on edge.
There was a time when Raimie could have sworn he’d had a best friend, someone as close to him as his own heart, but living on a remote farm guaranteed no chance of such a relationship. Whenever he’d asked his father about the enormous void he felt at the center of his being from the absence of such a person, Aramar had insisted that Raimie was simply missing his childhood imaginary friends.
The infinitesimally small similarity of longed for companionship that he felt with Kheled inexplicably irritated Raimie, and he was finished with the conversation.
“I may try to catch up on my sleep,” he said, subtly shooing the other man away. “I only wish I could guarantee an escape from nightmares tonight.”
“I have something for that!” Kheled exclaimed. “A tonic that will immediately put you into a sleep without dreams.”
Apparently, the healer couldn’t comprehend subtlety, but in this case, Raimie was especially grateful for the deficiency. He desperately needed at least one night of undisturbed rest and doubted he’d find it in this horrifically similar clinic.
“That sounds fantastic!”
“In that case, I’ll mix a dose for you.”
Kheled retrieved a small collection of herbs and a mortar and pestle from the cabinet. He ground the herbs together and set the resulting mush aside for a moment. Snatching up a tiny bottle, he extended it out one of the window slits and collected two fingers of water from the trickle passing by the opening. He carefully poured the laid aside ground herbs into the water. The last ingredient added was a liquid dispensed via dropper. With all of the components contained inside the bottle, Kheled vigorously swished the mixture together.
Raimie watched with fascination. He didn’t dare interrupt when the healer’s focus was completely centered on the process.
“This’ll have you sleeping within a minute or two,” Kheled said while raising the glass bottle to eye level for inspection. “Would you like it now or later?”
He was tired, so very tired. It could have been morning at the moment for all Raimie cared. He was eager to slip into the oblivion of sleep.
“I’ll have it now,” he answered promptly.
Kheled relinquished the tonic, and Raimie downed it, returning the bottle once it was empty. The healer’s warning hadn’t been exaggerated. Within seconds of imbibing the tonic, giant weights dragged Raimie’s eyelids closed. He slumped into a more comfortable position under the sheets.
“Rest up as much as you can over the next few days,” Kheled murmured under his breath. “Eledis will return soon, and when that happens, I’ll run out of excuses to shield you from the trials.”
“Eledis is here?” Raimie sleepily asked. “Trials?”
The healer flinched.
“I’ll explain everything in the morning. For now, rest.”
As Raimie drifted off, Bright seemed to hum at Kheled, but whatever he may have picked up was wiped out by his lack of dreams.
* * *
Bright, yellow sunlight streamed across the cave’s ceiling, the white noise of rushing water drowning out expected morning sounds when Raimie woke. He yawned and stretched luxuriously, momentarily forgetting in the glory of a full night’s sleep why he was confined to bed. His ribs quickly reminded him, and he hissed and
clutched his side.
“You look well rested,” Aramar said.
His father reclined in a funny looking chair next to the bed. The chair’s seat was suspended on a large set of wheels with a smaller, second set in front that was attached to a pair of foot rests. Aramar’s hands rested on the large wheel’s rims.
“Dad! I’m so glad you’re all right!”
In his enthusiasm to embrace his father, Raimie almost tumbled out of bed. Aramar hastily bent over to steady his son’s forearm, releasing one wheel, which allowed the chair to rotate in a circle until the freed wheel slammed into the side of the cot. Out of the jumbled mass of limbs and wood, Raimie righted himself, chuckling with embarrassment. Aramar grimaced and carefully pushed off of the mattress with his wrists. He spun the chair back around to face his son.
“Sorry,” Raimie apologized. “I thought for sure that the monster had killed you, and even though Kheled told me last night that you’d survived, I suppose I didn’t believe him until now.”
“Yes, I survived, but…”
“Why didn’t you get back up?” Raimie interrupted accusingly. “You never moved after that monster kicked you away. At the very least, you could have done something to let me know you lived.”
Aramar tensed in his chair, hands gripping the wheels with more force than required.
“I was securing an arrow stabbed into my neck,” he explained once he’d found his voice. “I’ve seen too many of those removed without someone of proper medical training around. It usually ends with a corpse and its bereaved companions sprayed with a massive amount of blood. That small hobble and the fact that I couldn’t move meant that I was left to fear that I was missing another chance to save your life.”
Aramar panted from exertion by the time he was finished.
“What was that intense fear and pain? I’ve never been so assaulted by an emotion that I couldn’t move before,” Raimie wondered.
Aramar’s frustration was visibly palpable on his face. He opened his mouth to reply.
“If the person who attacked you is who I think he is,” Kheled cut in from the entrance, “then you experienced a taste of a battle magic technique that is only spoken of in stories and legends. Only one Eselan alive is said to be a virtuoso when it comes to afflicting his enemies with such panic and pain.”
“An Eselan. With battle magic,” Raimie scoffed. “You think we were magically assaulted by an Eselan? Magic’s only a plot device used in fairy tales. And wasn’t the Eselan race driven to extinction years ago?”
“I should hope not,” Kheled chuckled, “otherwise I wouldn’t exist and neither would Allanovian, your current safe haven.”
“WHAT?”
Beaming cheekily at the human teenager, the healer turned his attention to Aramar.
“Maybe you should allow Raimie a bit more rest. I’m sure one shock is more than enough for today especially with what’s coming, yes?”
Aramar made a face.
“Son,” he said intensely, “please remember in the next few days that I love you no matter what, and whatever you do, whatever happens, you’ve made me proud.”
Raimie dipped his head slightly, only processing half of his father’s words in his state of surprise.
Kheled wheeled Aramar to the clinic’s entrance, only allowing the older man control once he’d crossed the threshold. The healer waited at the entrance for several seconds before rejoining Raimie at his assigned cot.
“Your mouth’s hanging open,” he said as he sat on the bed opposite Raimie, folding his legs under one another and clasping his hands in his lap.
Raimie snapped his mouth closed, teeth clicking from the impact.
“So, I’m guessing you have questions. What would you like to know?”
Where did he begin?
“Am I supposed to address you in a special way?” Ramie asked hesitantly. “If so, I’m sorry if I’ve given offense. I had no idea.”
“Please don’t do that,” Kheled winced, a pained expression on his face. “Don’t act differently. I’m not some hoity-toity lord who requires your deference, although some of my compatriots might enjoy humbling you in that way.
The healer paused, narrowing his eyes at the teenager.
“How much do you remember about my race?”
“I had no idea that another sentient race existed until a few weeks ago,” Raimie answered, blushing at the admittance of ignorance. “Although there’s something about this place that’s so familiar, like something out of a nightmare…”
And he remembered
The fever addled him, but he was cognizant enough to understand some of what the gray-eyed woman said to his father, even if it did come through a fog.
“The fever’s turnsssssssssssssssHas to have been induced by someonesssssssssssssI don’t see that she has much chancessssssssssShould perform the ritual soon if youssssssssMy magic only holdssssssssssss.”
The blob that was his father shuddered and shook, but it nodded. The world blurred into dreams and nightmares, and when he woke again, he climbed out of his cot. The stone floor of the cave cooled his bare feet, and he stumbled through the open doorway.
Empty corridors passed in a haze, and somehow he located the room where they’d taken his mother. He stared at her sweat soaked face, watching the slight rise and fall of her chest, listening to the mumble of fevered words on her lips.
He must have blacked out again because the next clear experience he had was of someone hauling him backward, gripping his elbows in a vice. Mama bucked on the cot, and several more gray-eyed men and women surrounded her, holding her in place.
The hands restraining him spun him around.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” his father roared.
He burst into tears, and snot dribbled over his chin.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to knock her off the rope! I didn’t want to die!”
His father’s gaze softened, and burly arms enveloped him. He sobbed into his father’s chest.
“There, there, Raimie. It’s not your fault.”
“Dad?” he pulled away so he could see his father’s face. “Is mama going to die?”
The grim expression and anxious eyes told him everything he needed to know. His sobbing intensified, shudders wracking his entire body. The fever hooked its claws into his mind again, and everything fuzzed.
‘…been here before?’ Raimie mouthed, puzzled.
“Gods, are you going to have a rough few days. Here I thought something would have stuck,” he murmured to himself before moving on. “Well, the first thing you should know is that I’m not a typical specimen when it comes to my people. Generally, the Esela are a proud, haughty, holier-than-thou race. They look down on and disdain humans as an inferior subspecies that will never achieve the same level of greatness as them.”
Raimie wrinkled his nose and very poorly hid his own disgust. Kheled held up a finger, asking for patience.
“I say ‘they’ because, as with most large groups of people, there are exceptions to the rule, those you’ll make easy allies of. I’m one of them. I’ve seen humans perform amazing feats that have equaled and in some cases surpassed Eselan achievements, but I possess an exceptionally unique perspective for an Allanovian citizen. You’ll find that not many who live in this sanctuary agree with my assessment of humanity.
“You need to know this first so that you’ll be prepared for how others will treat you during your stay and so you’ll know how much more difficult it will be to prove yourself to them.”
“Why am I proving myself?” Raimie asked. “No offense, but your people sound like assholes.”
“Trust me, no offense is taken. We can be regular bastards just like human boys are sometimes.”
Kheled stared pointedly at him, and Raimie turned red.
“Sorry,” he blurted.
“Don’t apologize! It was a valid question, if a little blunt,” Kheled chuckled, “but if you don’t mind, I’m going to give you a few helpful tidbits be
fore we move on to the question of why you’re attempting to impress the Esela.”
“If you think it’ll help, I’ll listen,” Raimie replied contritely.
The healer scooted to the mattress’ edge, his feet on the floor, and rested his elbows on his knees, staring intently at Raimie through interlaced fingers.
“What’s different about me compared to an ordinary human?”
“Should I focus on something specific or list general examples of oddity?” Raimie asked. “Because if it’s the latter, it may take a while to finish.”
“Ha, ha,” Kheled sarcastically laughed, “I’m looking for physical differences, wise guy.”
Well, that left Raimie with a quandary. Did he stick with the complete and honest truth, risking injury to the other man’s pride, or did he attempt a more diplomatic answer, risking almost certain communication failure?
“Your eyes and hair are the most notable differences,” he replied, barely hiding the cringe of discomfort from such total honesty, “the first for the lack of color and the second for the tourmaline hue, but the only other disparity I notice is your height. I’ve never met someone so tall before.”
Kheled winced.
“The height’s my own personal burden to bear, but otherwise, you’ve picked up on our races’ obvious dissimilarities.
“As a general rule, humans boast coloring other than their natural skin pigment in exactly two places: hair and eyes. For the Esela, on the other hand, it’s only in the hair, but we also display two colors or two different shades of the same color, same as humans. Physically, this tiny but significant difference is the only way to differentiate our races.
“Magical aptitude is another subject entirely. Besides very rare and feared exceptions, humans are typically incapable of anything close to ancient history’s tales of sorcery. The Esela, however, have retained some few skills despite the extraordinary length of time since the days of prolific magic. Among those techniques we can still practice are illusion work…”
The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1) Page 11