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A Great Work

"You may set me down good alchemist." The woman on my back said.

I was only half-listening, but caught the gist of her words.

"Listen miss geomancer," I said, "There's a spot over there where we can rest that is at least out of sight. If I stop to drop you right now, I'm going to collapse on the spot. The only reason I'm still moving is because I'm recirculating essence directly through my muscles."

She didn't fight me after that. Within a few minutes we had reached a sheltered cave. I took several moments to check for signs of monsters but found none. Of course, I may have just been mildly delirious.

With the last of my strength, I knelt down so the woman could stand on her own feet, then fell flat on my face. Unsurprisingly, she settled down next to me. We laid there for several minutes, senses straining for the sound of pursuit.

"I think we're safe," I said, "For now. Unless I am mistaken, that was their only windsister. We'll only be out of danger when we reach Whelden."

"Who exactly are you?" She asked.

I struggled into a sitting position and got a needle and thread from my bag, "Like I said, I'm an alchemist."

"I believe that much," She said, leaning against a rock opposite me, "But no ordinary alchemist can match the speed of a windsister. So I ask again, who exactly are you."

"Just a minute," I said, dousing the wound on my hand with alcohol.

I'm rather proud to say that I only hissed. Next came my antibacterial ointment.

"You don't happen to know how to suture do you?" I asked.

She shook her head, "A knight of the Holy Order is not trained in such arts."

I grunted, "I figured as much. Give me a hand here, just hold the skin together."

I expected her to be reluctant, though most adventurers can perform first aid, they are also relatively squeamish about anything beyond basic life support. She however, did not hesitate in compressing my wound together. I set to work.

"Well, let me see, where should I start?" I said, wincing every time I drove the needle into my flesh, "You're lucky you were unconscious while I was doing this for you."

"I was cognizant of your actions," She noted.

"Sorry." I said.

"I will not accept an apology for saving my life." She said.

"Right," I said, feeling mildly foolish, "Though you're going to need a white mage to look at that. I did what I could, but the wound is more than likely to go septic in a couple days. I can try to handle that, but a gut wound is just about the worst thing that you could ask for in a fight."

"I am aware." She said, "Now, please stop evading my question."

"Sorry," I said, mentally hitting myself again for apologizing, "Well, first off, my name is Ethan Dyre. I'm a master alchemist traveling from Vern to attend the Collegia Alchemica."

"I can sense that you have a great soul," She said, "What is your affinity?"

"Wait," I said, "Did you burn essence to do that?"

I was mildly put out by that. Here we were in a life or death situation, and she was burning through precious essence to find out useless information.

She was quiet for a moment before lowering her head in my direction, "I apologize. I am not accustomed to our present situation. I have never lacked for the use of essence before."

I nodded grimly as I began to tie off the sutures, "That doesn't surprise me, you were carrying a phylactery capable of storing enough essence for me to make a round of minor elixirs. Who exactly are you anyway?"

"I am Sister Arefina," She said, "I serve the goddess Orianna as one of her knights."

"A paladin?" I asked.

She quirked her head, "What manner of fighter is that?"

I scratched my head, "Just something I heard of long ago. Though I guess it's technically not true, a paladin would be a white mage and a fighter."

She looked mildly horrified at that thought, "The church would never waste the talent of a white mage in such a matter. White mages are to be protected at all costs!"

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"Yes, yes," I said absently, "As for my soul... well, you're right, I do have a great soul. As for my affinity, well, I'm gray."

She looked at me blankly, "What?"

"A gray mage," I said, "You know, incapable of projecting essence into the world?"

She eyed me with narrowed eyes, "I estimate my essence levels to be at one quarter of normal. I have never heard of a mage being able to transfer their essence to another, but as I said, I was cognizant when you were ministering to me."

"That was a uh... experiment." I admitted, "I figured that you were going to die without a quick infusion. I can infuse items that I manufacture with essence, like my walking stick."

She nodded, "That would explain its properties. Are you capable of forging weapons?"

"I can make cups and horseshoes," I admitted, "Though good steel for a blade would be wasted on my talents as a blacksmith. Like I said, I'm an alchemist."

She nodded thoughtfully, "But you are also a physiker and surgeon. Interesting."

This was getting a little uncomfortable.

"Can you walk?" I asked.

In response, she rose to her feet, though she was clearly unsteady. I followed, though my limbs felt like jelly. A few words and I had withdrawn some food and water from my pack. Splitting it between the two of us, I began leading the way towards where I thought Whelden was.

"You are concerned." Sister Arefina said, "You need not be. If our pursuers approach, I will protect you."

"I hate to break this to you," I said, "But we're both nearly spent. You have a wound that will probably keep you from flexing at the waist, and I'm only really good for fighting mundanes and wicks."

"You moved with surprising agility, even before consuming that potion." She noted.

"Like I said, I'm an alchemist. I've been successful enough to complete two rounds of speed elixirs." I explained, "That and my great soul makes me fast, but nowhere near the level of even a lark. Though I do have more endurance. I really just got lucky in out-thinking her."

"And have you run out of potions?" She asked.

I shook my head, "No, and I'll use one again if necessary, but thirty minutes after imbibing it, I'm more than likely to die."

"Give one to me," She said, holding out a hand, "I will protect you."

"Who says things like that?!" I burst out in frustration.

"Knights in the service of Orianna." She replied, still holding out her hand.

I sighed, "I'm afraid I can't do that either. I've already dosed you with a fortitude potion, a long lasting one. The only reason you're still on your feet is because it won't wear off for another four hours."

She closed her hand and regarded me with interest, "I see. You are a surprisingly resourceful individual, Ethan Dyre."

"Yeah well, adversity makes us better people, or something like that," I said, "I was brought into the world with a pretty short stick. I've had to work hard to get anywhere."

We lapsed into silence. I could tell she was watching me, judging my actions and words in her head. I had never met another person with a great soul before that, and this one seemed to have been raised in a sheltered existence. I was used to dealing with middling souls or wicks, who had to cultivate their bodies and train hard at their control to make up for their intrinsic lack of power.

Sister Arefina wasn't a bad sort, but something about the way she talked rubbed me the wrong way. The worst part was, there was no real reason for me to feel resentment towards her. Maybe it was the fact that she had a useful affinity. I had done a lot of things with my ability, but the truth was, I would have traded it for a cardinal affinity at any time.

Whelden came into sight within the next two hours, and we decided that we would risk the road. Traveling overland had helped keep us away from danger, but we were nearly at our limit right now. The road would speed our journey, and hopefully get us to the city before dark. Although Whelden itself sat on consecrated ground, everything south of it was still considered broken, and while monsters did not appear on consecrated ground, they did not necessarily respect its boundaries.

Sister Arefina had an arm linked through mine and was driving me forward. The side-effects of the speed potion I had taken earlier were making themselves known with increasing intensity. Burning pain shot through my body at intervals, probably a side effect of my muscles committing mass suicide after being pushed too far. I vaguely noted that I would probably need to drink an elixir tonight. Not the best, but it would probably keep me from being crippled.

The clopping of hooves behind us was the first indication that we were in trouble.

"Get her!" I heard a familiar female voice call.

I stumbled to my knees as Sister Arefina let go of me. I felt vaguely betrayed, but another part of me was glad that she was running. After all, it made no sense for both of us to die on this road. We really stood no chance against the two great souls behind us.

"Go," my companion said, "I will hold them here for as long as I can. Tell my father... Tell him that I forgive him."

The world had a perverse way of making my life more difficult, even when it was trying to give me a hand up.

Closing my eyes, I ran a quick assessment of my body. I had plenty of essence, which was a true travesty. For all of that power, I was as useful as a wick when fighting other mages. I could take another potion-

"Ethan Dyre!" Sister Arefina yelled, "On your feet and go! For love of the Lady!"

I opened my eyes and struggled to my feet. Stepping unsteadily, I drew even with Sister Arefina.

"Sorry," I whispered at her as she threw me a glance, "I don't leave others to die."

I saw her truly smile for the first time then. It was like watching the sun break through a roiling head of clouds. Her blade was held firm in her hands, and I could practically smell the earth magic rolling off of her. It was the only thing that was keeping her standing.

I reached out and grabbed her hand, "Drop that, we're going to need a great work to get out of this alive."

Closing my eyes, I reached deep within myself. I am gray. I do not have the power to fight, I do not have the power to kill. Unlike other mages, I lack the power to destroy. My power lies in creation. I can build things, and I build them damn well.

"This is probably going to hurt," I said, "but you need to cut loose with everything. Aim for their horses first."

I built a bridge.

In that moment, I could hear the song of the earth that Mike had described to me. It was as vast and solid as a mountain, yet nurturing like a mother's kiss. Essence washed out of my soul in a wave as Sister Arefina greedily drank it in. The earth beneath us began to tremble.

The last thing I remembered was seeing a wave of earthen lances tearing themselves from the ground in a concentric wave before us, and the screaming of horses.