Chapter 6

Upon waking, my head throbbed with a hammering pain and my body felt hot, sweaty. I attempted to sit up too quickly, groaning as the pain forced me back down.

Cracking my eyes open, I found myself lying in the same earthen room, on the same wooden bed I’d seen before, but it was darker now. A low candle light illuminated the space, but shadows still prevailed. I closed my eyes again, already feeling strained at the simple effort of looking around.

“Quiet now,” someone murmured close to my ear. I wanted to look up but kept my eyes tightly shut, trying to ward off the pain.

A cool hand pressed against my forehead.

“Open your mouth, mage,” the gentle voice urged.

I opened my mouth, and someone placed a bitter leaf on my tongue. Chewing it slowly, I swallowed it despite every instinct screaming at me to spit it out.

I heard whispering in the room.

As someone placed a cool damp cloth on my forehead, there were brief flashes of light behind my eyelids. The shock of the cold pushed my mind back into unconsciousness.

My last thought before I passed out was that someone must have spent a fortune to wet that washcloth.

When I woke again, the pain had lessened considerably. Although I still felt warm, I lay buried beneath a mound of blankets and the fever now felt distant.

Carefully, I opened my eyes.

The ceiling was a dozen feet above me, a dark slab of rock. Looking around me this time, I realized this cave was much larger than the tiny earthen hole I’d been in before.

Next to the bed, I saw healer’s supplies covering a table: a bowl of mashed leaves, an open leather bag containing a small selection of herbs and roots, a burning candle, strips of cloth, and a small stained glass jar filled with a brownish ointment.

I gingerly touched my side and found the wound well bandaged. It felt warm and incredibly tender to the touch, but the pain was now only a dull ache. They must have given me something to numb the pain.

The rest of the room looked spare, adorned with simple wooden furniture, including several other beds, another table, and a few chairs. On the back wall, a deep fire pit was built into the rock, with a low fire burning in it and a dark, sooty cauldron suspended above it.

This space sat underground, somewhere beneath Vale. Surely my being moved here had represented a risk to those who cared for me — I’d have to be careful and return their hospitality.

The room was empty.

Slowly, I moved up, dropping my legs over the side of the bed and sitting. My head swam briefly as I did.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

It took me a moment to catch my breath, as I waited for my swimming eyes to clear. I still wore my own shirt and pants, but my hat, duster, pack, and pouches were all gone. Scanning the room, I found the hat and jacket hanging from a hook in the corner, my pack sitting on the earthen floor. I needed to check its contents — make sure it still held the remaining gold, the single diamond, and the one thing I always kept close: a book of spells and history I’d carried across the desert for thousands of miles and many decades. I valued this book over anything else, due to the precious spells and information about The Way I’d compiled over the course of my life and training.

Before I could stand, the door swung open, and a tall woman with chestnut hair moved smoothly into the room. She wore a long brown dress, drab in color, but somehow still radiant.

When she saw me sitting up, a smile lit her face. She looked somewhat like a woman I’d once known, though perhaps I was imagining the resemblance. Memory can be less reliable over time.

“You’re awake, old man,” she stated in a low voice I recognized.

“You’re the healer?” I asked, taking no offense at the label. People didn’t very live long in these lands anymore, and I’d been called much worse.

“I’m Lissa,” she said, coming to my bedside and feeling my forehead with her hand. “They call me a healer as there’s no one else to bear that title. Feeling better?”

“Somewhat,” I replied. “Thank you for binding my injury.”

“Your fever broke, but the wound in your side is quite deep,” she said. She stepped toward the cauldron and began spooning something into a bowl. “It won’t heal quickly; you’ll need weeks of bedrest for the injury to truly recover.”

“It feels much better than it did. Thank you,” I said.

She looked at me, her face suddenly serious. “I gave you some powerful pain reliever, a rare herb found on the upper reaches of this mountain range. It won’t wear off for at least a day. Very strong. You may feel better, but the wound isn’t healed yet. Do you understand?”

Nodding, I stood up slowly, feeling light-headed briefly. She gestured to a chair next to the bed.

“Again, thank you Lissa,” I said, sitting down.

“You’re welcome. Do you have a name?”

“You can just call me Mage,” I replied, breathing deep and slow, moving carefully so I wouldn’t bump the wound.

“Mage, then,” she said, shrugging at the odd name. “You needn’t worry. You’re safe for now, but you should eat some of this stew to regain your strength.”

“This must have cost you half a year’s wages,” I said, taking the bowl and spoon.

The stew contained several small chunks of meat, a few spoons of broth, crushed grasses, and thin vegetables.

Lissa glanced back at the cauldron and replaced the lid on the remaining soup.

“Dirk said you were important. That you could help us in our efforts here.” She looked at me skeptically, as if she dared not hope it was true.

I paused before replying.

“I will help you if I can,” I said. “I’ve been searching the deserts for years, seeking out another mage, any other mage, or some hint of the Way of the Mark, all without success. Strangely, my searching led me here.”

“There aren’t many other places left to go, I assume,” Lissa said.

“It’s true, Lissa. I’ve searched most places I knew to look,” I said with a nod. “Where did you learn your healing?” I asked, taking a small bite of the stew.

“I learned some healing from my own grandmother, who had some training from mages of the old ways—of your ways, I suspect,” she smiled gently. “But that was many years ago, I was but a girl when I learned.”

“Well, you’re a credit to your grandma’m,” I said. “I’m sure I’d be dead now without your intervention. My things?”

“By the door,” Lissa replied.

I nodded and continued to eat.

“Of course, we searched them just to be sure,” Lissa added, a little sheepish. “That manuscript… is it written in a different tongue?”

I looked up at her. “Yes, you could say that. I wrote the entire thing in an ancient cipher. It is unreadable without a key phrase and knowledge of how the cipher works.”

“Smart,” She nodded with a gleam in her eyes. “Well, I’ll let you eat in peace. I’ll be back then.”

Lissa lifted the cauldron and, with one last glance at me, left the room taking the stew with her. I assumed she would share the rest with others in her care.

I finished eating the rest of my stew in silence.