Fan Fiction ❯ Healer #1 Healer in the Dark ❯ #6 No Easy Road ( Chapter 6 )

Chapter #6: No Easy Road

Paeljendri's prediction about the Captain proved to be a true one. Three days and five hours later to the moment he returned. The Dark Elf time sense told her so. She looked up and he was there. His presence was masked and his form concealed behind far more armor then he normally wore.

“My own King and most noble ancestor VelyaVel has called upon me to serve. I will go to him today and might not return until next month middling at the earliest. I know not what you wish to have me say Millicene, but this I will tell you. I will see you through all this and at my side at journey's end, despite the way being no easy road.” That having been said he turned his horse and was about to command it to leap into the sky when her hand settled on his calf, the only part she could reach with him so far off the ground.

“I know not what you expect of me ether nor will I claim knowledge of what we must do to fix this matter up again. So instead I ask of you that you accept what I have to give at the moment to see you through until we have the leisure to deal with our shared troubles.” She said then she used the assassin's skill to flip herself up onto his lap. His helm came off in her hands though that was her own knowledge that guided it's removal, having done so for her Knightly father many a time as a child. She kissed him firmly opening herself to him that he might see her grief, her weary pain, and also her joy that he had not surrendered her and their love to face cruel fate alone. “Never would I Millicene! NEVER!” He reassured her when their lips parted then she dismounted and watched him go.

Giggling though her heart was still a small bit heavy she walked back inside. “What's the joke?” Dokorrip asked of her. “My Assassin has his uses, that he does Dokorrip. I wonder how long it will take the Captain to notice that my hair ribbons are bound around his upper arm?” She shook lose her normally braided hair before redoing it with the remaining half of the healer green ribbon set that she always wore for day to day work. Dokorrip took a moment to figure out what she meant then his laughter joined hers. “Your champion you have declared him?” He asked though he knew that was the human female's custom when they acted so. She nodded. Then with her double laughter and her apprentice's bringing cheer to the ward of still healing patients they went back to their work.

Her training with Paeljendri began soon there after. Firstly he insisted that she go and learn staff forms from the Master of Staves at the Sun Temple. “Healers in my home range always carry staves to discourage those who would do them harm though they have immunity by both law and custom in all conflicts and places. It is considered a traditional thing by most, and many here probably wonder where your healer's rod is.” He had said. Something in the last part had made her think he was joking about something but she let it pass. Far to many things demanded her attention now to try and figure out the subtleties of the Dark Elf's sense of humor.

The Stave Master had given his assent to her request with ease. It had not hurt her chances any that he had been suffering from something very similar to the Dragonkin that she had received the moonstone from. She had pulled out the armor bit, this time a broken ring rather then a piece of plate, and cleansed him of any infectious wound poisons before his daily practices. His tooth had taken a full five minutes to grow in rather then just the instant, but that she expected because that was how long it took to replace Darkling teeth.

The Staves were only just the beginning though. He had taken her to the seediest part of the Dark City to gather up the things needed for the Assassin's trade. “Though it was suggested that I do so, I had no intention of teaching anyone this trade of mine before now. You should feel honored little one.” He had said with her lips. Paeljendri was becoming more and more familiar and at ease with her. By the time she discovered a way to restore him to life as she secretly intended, he would be closer then a real brother would be had she such a relative.

She learned to use daggers and knives of all sorts and he was actually pleased with her progress with throwing knives. Origlan was even more pleased when he did not get to her in time to stop the fifth assassin that was sent against her. Her knife quivered in the heart of Paeljendri's would be cohort and she did not even hesitate to leave it there and let the Darkling blooded half human die in the street.

“Ottiki was considered one of the best. He usually charged far more then me since his head was so swelled. Your foe grows more desperate by the hour. If I were you, and in some ways I now am, I would seek the High King's Palace to hide for a time.”

That took her to the Palace. The High King was only to glad to shelter her and agreed fully with her decision to seek protection form an anti-assassin experienced squad such as his Palace Guard. Dokorrip found himself receiving his healer's lessons by correspondence instead of in person, and only when true emergencies struck did a patient find him or herself brought to her. This brought about safety but also caused a great deal of boredom for her in between her exhausting lessons.

Finally out of sheer desperation to have something to occupy her languishing mind, Millicene found her way through the Palace to the library. “The healing books alone of one who has spent a few centuries practicing the craft must be awesome.” She explained to the Assassin.

Many of the Guard would have thought her cracked had she not explained her situation to their Captain right away upon arriving in the Palace. Her assumption proved true when she went inside the huge domed tower that contained a million different volumes of various lore's and knowledge types at least. Wipe the drool Millicene. You would not want it to get on the books would you? Paeljendri teased mentally then he purposefully fell asleep and left her to herself.

She had drowned herself in books for several days and was only halfway through the first set of six sets of shelves containing healer's lore. The copious amounts of wisdom contained in these books amazed her. The amount of notes she had taken were quite impressive in and of itself. Even the High king thought so and he had taken to sending her large scrolls meant for designing buildings on or making maps so that she would have more room to write. Thus he insured her thoughts would “Stay together where at all possible.”

He must have been a skilled healer when he practiced. For he knew many of the things she would need as a studying healer and saw to it that she was provided with them in abundance. Her food was healthy and satisfying and the candles in the library gave off a golden glow rather then the eerie multihued flames which had made it hard to read when she dragged a volume back to the rooms she had been issued. Even her evening tea was replaced with something more fortifying. The strange black brew reminded her of her father's imported stimulant drink that he called coffee. However it had several different properties to it when she looked at it with her powers that made it obvious it was some sort of herbal concoction instead. It was by being in the Palace library so often that she began by accident a whole other kind of lessoning.

She had wandered out of the healing section for a moment to stretch her limbs and walk a few laps around the huge room that was the main library floor to get some exercise. Just sitting would make her fat even with all of Paeljendri's energy sapping assassin's training. She was walking around aimlessly when a slender volume bound in bright blue leather called to her. She went over and pulled off the shelf not even thinking that her natural curiosity might not be the best instinct to follow in a Sorcerer's library.

Once she pulled it off the shelf the title which was very worn on the spine was clearer to her sight on the front cover. “Williamina's,” a smudged word then, “primer for learners.” Ordinarily the thing to do would have been to open it to find out what the title was or to get a clue of the subject matter one could look at the books to ether side since the place was well organized by subject. Something in her gut finally awoke and said `Oh no you don't Millicene! Those books look like far more trouble then this little one. Just read it to find out what it is about!' So she had taken the blue bound volume back to the table she occupied in the healer section and with a sip of her herbal stimulant she opened the cover.

“Williamina's SORCERER'S Primer for Learners” was the full title and that in and of itself almost made her put it back again. However she wondered someplace deep inside her if most healers of a certain strength didn't have it in them to be sorcerers. Maybe she did too! The thought that she might begin to gain skills and someday take on the murderer of her mother toe to toe made her heart swell up with the urge for vengeance.

She was halfway through the first chapter and things were making ready sense indeed when a hand descended on her shoulder and she found herself spun clean around to face it's owner. “What in the name of all creation are you doing with that!?! I thought you had better sense!” It was the High King, and he was a very enraged monarch to be sure.

Millicene reached for the distance she had learned from Svaro and coolly replied, “Seeking vengeance for my Mother dear King. You I had hoped would understand what it is to face a foe without anything but what is in yourself and those few you call friends while he has vast powers arrayed against you. If It proves out that I can be a Sorceress I will be a Sorceress for my mother's sake and that is all there is to it!”

He seemed to calm and then he looked at her strangely. “I had not even given any thought but you say it was a Sorcerer that cursed you? Did your mother tell you this herself?” Milicene nodded.

“How did she know it?” Millicene thought back to the tale and said with soft certainty, “He had known her since she was but a child. Once she refuted him for my Father it was over and he seemingly went mad. His tower once stood but six miles from my Father's ancestral home. Once she turned him away and refused him her favors he cursed my mother and destroyed his tower before departing the lands Delifonte. He has never returned that we know of unto this day but we have always suspected that it is he that aids the bandits that evade kings justice in their foul brigandly pursuits and destroy and pillage across my Father's Lands.”

The High King looked mightily disturbed by this. “All who practice Sorcery at or above a certain level of power belong to a great Guild with one another so that we who are capable can police each other's behavior when no one else can. It is they whom long ago granted me right to come and seek High Kingship from the old King whom none truly cared much for. For any such thing as he has done this one has broken dozens of oaths and hundreds of rules and violated endless customs besides! To curse a woman who refuses to sleep with you! Insane!”

He was getting more and more riled up about the matter. So much so that she reached out with her powers and soothed his irritation away from him by healers power. She was surprised that his ire fought against her power, so much so that she had to draw on the wellspring to quell it.

“Thank you Millicene.” He said once his breathing evened out and he calmed back down to the level headed ruler she was accustomed to. “I will file grievance with my guild upon your behalf and that of your mother's widower. What was it that your father's given name was or do you even know?”

Millicene thought back to her days in her fathers retinue. “Sir Obriel Delifonte, Knight of the Flaming Brand, in service to his Highness King Enoit Rociele King of the Mighty land of Arnemulith is my Father.” The High King stared at her for a second. “You do realize that you said that all in one breath, without pause, and with more pompousness than any herald I have ever in my long life heard?” He said then he laughed.

“I was not just my Father's only child but until the age of ten I was his Paige girl as well. It was then that I met my dear teacher whom was also mother's childhood playmate and had gone early to healers while mother yet played outside the curse makers tower. She saw me and said to me that my light shone so bright it was hard to look at me, and she also told my Father that it would be a plain sin to make me into a Lady Knight of the Laurels when I could be a healer instead. So it was that you got yourself a healer and I was torn from the side of my dear Father to spend ten months out of every year at school three hundred and fifty leagues away from home.”

The High King nodded in understanding. “My own instruction took me far from the kin that I had always claimed as my own and the only life that I knew as well. Both when I became a student healer and later when my power awoke and one was sent to instruct me in the ways of Sorcery. It is often the way of things with those whose gifts require special instruction. Do not let it pain you over much. Tell me though did any of that first chapter you were reading when I found you make the slightest bit of sense?”

Millicene nodded slightly. “It was beginning to sound logical when I reached the fiftieth page.” This seemed to not be the answer that The high King was looking for.

“I had hoped it would not, but since it did and so soon as well it means that your power is already half awake if not almost all the way developed. I shall look and see. If it is as I suspect be ready for a jolt as the awakening of powers is no quiet thing when they come from the All Father himself. Most likely the touch of my Magic will shock them awake like throwing cold water on a sleeping person.” He warned her then he reached out with one hand and touched her cheek.

Power flowed somewhat reminiscent of the testing to find Paeljendri's soul only it hurt a great deal less but it was as if she had grabbed a hold of lightning as it flashed from the sky. When it was done she sat down on her chair in shock and the High king joined her in the other seat at the table. “Well?” She asked him when he seemed a little recovered. “Blinded by the All Father's light is an expression that comes to mind. Guinti should not have touched your line with that curse. Not only was it illegal by our laws but it also awoke the sleeping lineage of one of the greatest of our kind that lies dormant among the Knights and Liege Lords of your Father's line. I have only tasted that flavor of power once before in all my life. Congratulations and welcome to the craft Healer Millicene, Daughter of the Line of Sorcerer Morpheus.”

So it was that by fate, for in Sorcery all books a Sorcerer learns from chose the learner not the other way around, that Millicene began another set of drainingly hard lessons. She wrote to her father to tell him of the set of circumstances that she found herself in, but knowing her father's schedule was a sporadic one and that he went a horseback wherever his king should decide to send him she was worried as to how she would send it to him and see that he got it in time.

“The answer lies out there Millicene. This I should think your clever mind would have figured that out by now!” Her Royal instructor insisted as he took in the grandness of his library's magical knowledge wing with a sweeping gesture.

In the end she took the letter to the tallest tower of the High King's Palace and called up the wind. A slightly green colored wind came up from the south and took the letter from her hand. She could hear the air sprites chuckling as they bore her letter away to him on whatever front the brave general was commanding at the moment. It would reach him at dawn on the third day from the one she had sent it on. Far the faster then the six months or more that it would take by ordinary methods. “I believe I shall have to write more to my many far flung associates from healers now that I have more reliable post methods.” She said to the high king when she settled back into her study chair.

Far away, on the third day, at the northern border lands of the Kingdom of Arnemulith, camp was being broken by the General's command when his Paige came running trailing a green haired air sprite behind him. “Sir! Sir! Letter from Millie!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. Only one person was called Millie here at the front and that was the General's only child.

He took the letter from the sprite who informed him that it would wait for his reply. Obriel scowled at the missive and his scowl only darkened deeper as he read further into it. Fine goodness it started out with. About how much she enjoyed her work as a healer and how unexpectedly pleasant her patients and neighbors were being towards her but it went downhill from there.

Assassins and endless dramas of all sorts that finally led to her being awakened as a sorceress in training. Such things were not meant to be dealt with by his child alone without any of her kin to aid her. He sent the Paige, a son of his youngest brother, for writing implements from the already packed general's tent.

It was good that they were heading back from the wilderness and the wild wyrm campaigns of the early summer now. Obriel was intent on gathering kith and kin and vassals and heading out for the dark lands as soon as was feasible. He would not allow anything to keep him from his child in this time when she was without any help at all save what absent minded assistance a High King could give her when not ruling his many and troublesome allied lands.

As he wrote back to his child to tell her of his near to imminent arrival and that he and her kin would be finding places to hole up as they would stay until peace settled on the land and in her life he pondered what had not been written but what his own normally quiet powers of beyond normal instinct told him was there none the less.

This Undead fellow, though outside the Curse by miles, had better prove his worth in many other ways. Otherwise he would have a Knight of the Flaming Brand to deal with instead of just a small little female healer. His eyes glowing with barely suppressed power of the same sort that had blossomed in his daughter he led the now formed up troops back to the capital and the waiting King. From there it would be a journey of near a week to reach the border and another three days thereafter on a fast set of horses.

None had faster horseflesh then the house of Delifonte, as all the civilized world knew. So mayhap two days could be shaved off of the traveling time if they all took pack beasts and did not bother with wagons. His mind already deep in planning, Obriel whipped his mount into a canter and sped down the trail toward the home of his sovereign. No time could be wasted if he wished to be of any help at all, or so his gut was screaming at him, and all speed had to be used to do what must be done.