Hearing hissing and grunting upstairs, Lone and Stillwater reach the bottom of the second staircase. Noise is evident from the next floor, and rushing up the stairs, Stillwater hears a chant. She’s heard it before—Gunnar’s vine thorns. They can be deadly.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Stillwater sees Pela first, standing there shaking. “Lone, you get Pela, and I’ll see what’s happening with Gunnar.”
“Sure thing.” Lone heads over to Pela as Stillwater storms past. Grabbing Pela’s arm, he snatches it back like he’s grabbed a hot pot. Even his hand is a little red. “Pela, are you alright?”
She stands there shaking, not paying attention, then she blinks and stares at Lone. Her eyes fill with tears, and stupidly he embraces her while covered with blood.
Stillwater rounds the corner past Pela and sees Gunnar’s fist all alight and glowing green. He is holding it above his head, and she hears the screams of two people.
“Enough, Gunnar,” Stillwater commands and then her tone softens. “Enough, they are disabled.”
Gunnar looks at Stillwater, his face set, but drops his hand, though it stays glowing. “Sorry, Boss, I overreacted.”
Stillwater heads over to see the two thugs, both bleeding from claw marks in the shins. Blood runs down their shirts where Gunnar tightened the vines. She notices the pointed ears and realises they are both half-breeds. Again, Gunnar’s hatred of the race raises its dark head.
“Let them go, they are too wounded to run. Disarm the ruffians and treat their wounds.” Stillwater leans in and whispers, “And your ignorant hatred of half-breeds will have to stop, or I will report you for assault.”
His eyes widen, seeing the ears. “I.. I...”
“Enough, Gunnar. Treat them, and I will talk to them once I check upstairs.”
She looks over at Lone and Pela, seeing them embrace. A small, odd feeling wells up inside her. Not knowing what it means, Stillwater gives a grim look and climbs the stairs.
Once she reaches the top, she sees the windows are closed and painted over with black paint. In the corner on a large forge stand two glass ‘pots’ with boiling liquid inside. A cloud of brown-yellow smog billows out of each pot then drops to the ground and spreads down the stairs.
In the corner, she notices a rudimentary lab set up with a thin man chained to it. He wears a covering over his mouth and goggles. A forge and several water buckets stand nearby.
Some cases of silverware are strewn across the floor. From what Stillwater can see, the man’s skin has a jaundiced look to it. This man is very sick.
As she moves towards him, he shrinks back, clutching the table leg. “Please let me rest, I am ill.” He then pukes up blood.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
With that, Stillwater yells out, “Gunnar, I need your help, someone is very sick up here!”
A voice carries up from down below. “Coming up, Boss.”
Hearing Gunnar stomping up the stairs, Stillwater approaches the yellowing man. He shies away from her. With a hushed tone, she places her sword down, raising her hands. “It’s okay, we are here to save you. My healer is coming up to have a look.”
Gunnar appears next to Stillwater and gasps at the man. He motions with his hands that they are empty of weapons and heads over. “By the Green Mother, what has happened to you?”
“Copper toxicity. Too much acid with the plating process, but they didn’t care about my state. If I hadn’t made this breathing apparatus, I would be dead from the fumes.” He frowns at both of them. “How are you not being affected by the gas?”
As he points over to the pots, Gunnar smirks at him. “The Trinity protects us from poisons in the air. Let me have a look at you.”
Gunnar pulls out some moss and a mortar and pestle and starts to grind up a healing potion. Muttering while he stirs, his hands begin to glow green again but this time lighter with a soft glow.
While watching Gunnar treat the sick man, Stillwater asks, “It is from the cutlery, isn’t it?”
The man looks up and squints at Stillwater. “How do you know that?” he says, weakly.
How can she explain about WayWocket? “My Engineer found a new alloy he proposed could cause damage to people using it, over time.”
A small laugh turns into a hacking cough, and more blood dribbles out of his mouth. “You have a smart friend.” And with that, he faints away.
Gunnar moves forward to check his breathing. “He is still alive but weak and fading. I need to heal him with the Green Mother’s grace—I hope it isn’t his time.”
As a follower of the Green aspect, Gunnar respects life and death. Being the great healers of the Trinity, Green followers know that if it is the person’s time, then no healing magiks will help them, only a quick and painless death. Therefore, they carry a sharp sickle to send the dying more quickly to the Trinity. This still causes a rift between the Bio-healers of the Engineering College and the followers of the Green. A Bio-healer will continue until the person dies, and even then, they will try to bring them back with their science.
“Oh, Green Mother who heals us all, please heal this man. If it is not his time yet, I summon you, Saint Mela, Great Mother, Plague-ender and Life-giver, to lend me your power to help this man.” Joining his green glow, a distinct orange glow joins it. “Saint Jara of the hammer, this man has been wronged. I implore you to bring retribution down on those who dealt with the evils this man suffers under. Demon-Slayer, this man does not deserve to die. I beseech you to convince your Holy Wife to allow this man to live.”
A blinding light fills the room, and a chorus of the Green can be heard. Putting his hands into pouches, Gunnar pulls out three vials and a match. He pours the loose soil from one of the bottles on to the floor in front of the sick man.
With this water, let the man live
Gunnar sprinkles a few drops of water on to the earth…
With this earth, ground his soul.
He fills the last vial with oil and makes a circle around the wet soil…
May this fire alight your energy once more.
Gunnar stares at the small sliver of wood, making it burst into a green flame. Waving it over the prone body, Gunnar kneels down.
With my breath, be healed by Saint Mela’s grace and come back.
Gunnar blows out the fire, and the smoke spreads across the face of the man. With that last chant, the man takes in a huge breath and then breathes again. His eyes flutter open, and he stares into the heart of the Trinity.
Gunnar softly asks, “What is your name?”
The man’s skin still appears yellow from jaundice. “I am Doctor Peregrine Young…” Then he faints away.