Hi guys. I have finally gotten off my lazy behind and rewritten chapter one. It is shorter but way more detailed. If you spot any mistakes let me know. Constructive criticism is welcomed. Hate speech is not. And now my friends, enjoy Chapter 1

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 1

Disaster

It was morning, in the village of Silveredge. The sleepy morning quiet was just beginning to be broken as the villagers began their day. The noisiest of course was the blacksmith. The repetitive clanging of steel on steel rang through the air, while the furnace roared. However, despite it only being the beginning of the day for some, one particular villager had started her work several hours ago.

Her shoulder length hair was blonde, beginning to show a few streaks of grey. Her eyes were as green as the forest that she had just withdrew from. She was attractive, but not a great beauty, her face beginning to show a few lines, the testament of the hard work she had put in throughout her forty years. A plain brown leather medicine bag filled with medicinal herbs and bandages was worn over one shoulder and a hooded cloak covered her face. Her medicine bag was her most precious possession, a gift from her master after completing the rigorous healer training. She departed the woods after hours of gathering herbs, striding swiftly towards her hut.  

Entering her hut, she threw back the hood revealing her face. She began sorting all the different herbs she had gathered into their separate groups, labelling each according to usage and potency. She remained extremely focused as she did so. One could never be too careful with their herb stock. Her master had stressed to her “gather as many herbs as you can and label everything precisely according to type and date”. Her master had told her numerous stories of deaths due to mislabelled herbs, herbs that had lost their potency and disastrous tales of insufficient medicine in times of war and disease. This instilled a great sense of responsibility in the then apprentice healer. So much so, that she became obsessive in the meticulous labelling of her medicines and gained a reputation for the reliability of her cures.     

She had been the village healer for several years and she was the first person to admit it was hard work, especially as it was a small village. She became a healer through a decade of training at a nearby city, after she lost her husband to Ague. In the city it was the apprentice’s job to gather the herbs while they learnt their effects and the environments they grew in, but here in this remote village she alone knew all of the numerous plants in the surrounding countryside. A few villagers may have known some of the more basic herbs, but her stocks far exceeded theirs, and thus everyday she spent three hours gathering herbs in the early hours of the morning. The only help she had was a few women who had experience as midwives and some knowledge of how to make a basic poultice, but the brunt of the work fell on her, as her experience vastly outweighed theirs.

She began grinding herbs and as the scents drifted around the room her mind drifted back to her training. Her master’s gentle hands guiding hers on the pestle, showing her how to grind the herbs to different consistencies. Her master was a gentle old woman, who always smelt like peppermint. However, her master was very firm when it came to her work. She remembered with a shudder the time her master forced her to re-break a leg that had begun healing wrong, as the patient’s family had not set the bone properly. This taught her the very hard lesson; sometimes you have to break something before you can heal it. Thus, while she began her training as a woman timid after the death of her husband, her personality now had a hint of steely strength to it. 

A common tradition in the area was that people in certain prestigious positions were called by their title, rather than their name. Such it was with healer. Her name was Sarah. The only other person in the village who was addressed by his title was the village elder; whose name was Gerente Galard. Although some say he’s only called elder as no one can say his name properly.

Healer continued her work, putting the gathered herbs in various jars and containers, placing them in various shelves around the hut. A shout was heard in the distance, of which she took no notice. Loud shouting was commonplace in the village. However, soon she frowned. The sound of swift footsteps indicated that someone was running in the direction of her hut. Suddenly the door burst open, slamming into the wall. In the doorway stood a young woman called Serala. The woman leant over, putting her hands on her knees, panting as she struggled to regain her breath.

 Healer had a concerned look on her face as she observed the frantic entry of the young dark haired women, “Serala what’s wrong?” Serala caught her breath slowly before finally rising. Healer watched as she rose and saw her hazel eyes were wild with fear. Healer swiftly went to her side and put her hand on Serala’s shoulder, seeking to calm her.

“Calm down. Take deep breaths. Look at me.” Healer said, in a brisk, competent tone. She waited patiently, as Serala tried to calm down. ‘Not the first time I’ve had to do this.’ Healer thought to herself, remembering the countless times that people had come to her barely able to get a word out; they were so distressed.

Healer watched as Serala’s breathing visibly slowed and gave an inward sigh of relief. It was much easier getting information from a calm person, than a hysterical one.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“It’s my little girl Liana. She’s been whining about a sore head for weeks. At first we thought it was nothing and just gave her the family remedy, but it didn’t really seem to help. She collapsed a mere ten minutes ago and she hasn’t woken up since. We checked for a fever and she was burning up, her body wont stop shaking and she’s moaning in pain. She’s only five years old, please help us save her.” Serala begged. Healer paled after hearing this. “Take me to her immediately, this is serious”. 

She quickly grabbed her medicine bag and several herbs, and then turned to Serala. “I’m ready to go.” Healer said. Serala nodded and the two of them immediately turned and excited the hut. They broke into a jog, not wanting to use up all their breath getting there, like Serala had done previously. If Serala had looked closely at Healer she would have been even more fearful. Healer’s face was deathly pale and her hands were trembling. These were the exact same symptoms of the disease that had killed her husband. Ague.

As they rushed Healer remembered her husband. Her husband’s case was similar, but slightly different. He too had had headaches over weeks, and gradually developed a fever. However, Healer’s husband had been bedridden for months, only slipping into unconsciousness in the final stages of the disease and eventually succumbing to death. It was the death of her husband that gave healer a desire to heal people, so that she could save someone who would otherwise be lost forever, their energy returning to the soul stream. Now she was facing the exact same disease that had killed her husband. Only it seemed far worse given the rapid rate at which the disease had spread. After another five minutes of frantic running through the village they arrived.

When they arrived, healer looked at Serala, wanting to get to Liana as soon as possible. Serala pointed up, indicating that Liana was upstairs. Healer hurried up the stairs with Serala trailing behind. Once they got to the top Serala once again pointed the way, not trusting herself to speak, lest she descend into a full panic.

Healer paused a brief moment, steeling herself against her own memories. Her hand badly wanted to shake but she didn’t let it as she lifted her hand to the door. She couldn’t let Serala know just how familiar she was with these symptoms, or how much mental turmoil she was in. She opened the door gently, seeing the girl in bed, her older sister tending to her. The two looked very much alike, although one being visibly older.

Healer was aware of the sister but didn’t know her name. Serala called out to the girl. “Arina, Healer has come. You should do your chores.”

Arina shook her head, her black hair flying across her face. “I’m staying with Liana.” She said, her face set in a stubborn frown.

Healer rushed to the bedside and laid her hand on the sick girl’s forehead, completely ignoring the small fight between mother and daughter. The sick girl was drenched in sweat and extremely hot to the touch. Healer instantly took charge.

“I need a wet cloth. We have to lower her temperature. With how high her temperature is she could die.” Serala nodded and went to get the cloth. Healer continued examining the girl. Her fist clenched as she remembered her husband in the same state, unconscious, shivering, burning fever and moaning in pain.  Serala returned with the wet cloth, Healer took it from her and laid it on the child’s brow.

“Is there anything else I can do?” Serala said, wringing her hands together. Healer looked up.

“Go get me Elder. He should be made aware of this.” She said, and turned back to Liana, checking for any other symptoms.

“Ok.” Saying this Serala turned and left. Healer looked at Liana. ‘I hope for your mother’s sake that you make it Liana.’ She thought. She didn’t voice her thoughts though, as Arina was still in the room. Arina kneeled at her sister’s side, taking her warm hands in her own.

“Healer’s here now, Liana. You’ll be ok.” Arina said, her eyes full of hope.

A look of desolation and hopelessness crossed Healer’s face. Here was a child with absolute faith in her abilities and yet, she didn’t know that Healer could do nothing about this disease. She quickly wiped the expression from her face, her expression going impassive. She hated that soon the girls faith in her would be shattered. She inwardly prayed for Serala to return quickly, unable to bear the looks of hope from Arina.