Chapter 04
Another hour had passed in relative silence, only the noises of night animals and a hushed conversation between Aela’s mother and their bounty, Zoe Chavare, disrupting the quiet night air.
While curious about what they were talking about, Aela was pretty sure she had a general idea of what was transpiring. Zoe was most likely asking about Markus and to a lesser extent Aela and her mother. All the while, Svala would be probing for actionable information while falsely giving the impression she was indulging her own personal curiosity. Aela had seen the same scene take place a few dozen times or more over their travels in the past few years, and was thoroughly bored of it.
Instead, Aela thought she would try starting a conversation with Markus. It probably wouldn't be about anything of much importance, or even very well-paced. Since he knew no northern speech so far as she could tell, Aela would need him to speak slowly and clearly to reliably understand what he was saying. “We are close to town,” Aela said in as cheery a tone as she could muster.
Markus didn't reply, the gentle wheezing of his breathing the only clear sign he was on the sled behind her.
“Markus, did you h-” Aela let her words trail off as she turned her head.
Markus was sprawled over the wolf furs, his head bobbing slightly as Aela pulled the sled along, making it obvious that he was most likely asleep.
Aela was glad Markus was resting but felt a little put out that she wouldn't be able to take this opportunity to talk with him alone. There was likely only a half hour until they were within sight of the town, an hour at most until they were outside the Guildhall itself. All the same, Aela would have liked someone to talk to.
Distracted, Aela hadn't noticed the large rock until one of the rear beams of the sled scraped and bumped over it.
“Nng what's going on?” Markus mumbled groggily, his words too slurred by far for Aela to translate.
“Oops,” Aela thought to herself, determined not to feel too guilty for the happy accident. “You are awake?” She asked, trying her best to express her innocence.
Markus groaned, the weight on the sled shifting and making it clear he was sitting up, “Don’t know,” Markus replied noncommittally, punctuating the statement with a loud yawn.
Aela smiled and laughed quietly. Her mother said you can tell a lot about someone by how they treated others when woken with no warning. It was something to do with the masks people wear in public or something like that. The freshly woken have no time to have put their masks on and behave, well, like themselves.
“You did that on purpose,” Markus said, his accusatory tone deadly serious and throwing Aela off balance.
Fearful she had misjudged him, Aela scrambled to formulate a reply “N-no I-”
Markus laughed, lighthearted and good-natured, it was too sudden a shift.
Aela realized what he had done. “You tricked me,” she hissed.
“Sorry, couldn't help it,” Markus said, his apology perhaps undermined by his continued chuckling at his bad joke.
Aela let the silence drag on between them but was unsure if it was to ease her awkwardness or to wait for a more genuine apology.
“We should be reaching town soon,” Markus said congenially.
Perhaps he recognized their surroundings from when they had set out earlier that day, although Aela doubted it. Markus had not seemed to be the outdoors type. “Maybe a half-hour,” she agreed.
“Do you know what you are going to do with your share?” Markus asked.
“My share?” Aela asked, not quite understanding what he meant.
“Of the bounties,” Markus clarified, “More than one hundred and twenty-five crowns, easy.”
“The bounties are yours,” Aela said, finding it hard to keep the confusion from her voice, “Mother told you, right?”
There was a long pause, then Markus sighed loudly, his weight shifting on the sled. “Svala strongly suggested something like that,” he admitted. Markus sighed again, “And as much as I wouldn't mind the coin, it wouldn't be right.”
“Did mother say before? Or after dungeon?” Aela asked, trying to understand her mother's motives.
“Both,” Markus said matter of factly, “In fact, Svala seemed more determined about that fact the second time, which is odd since the reward is considerably higher. I don't know for sure, but it seems like she is under the impression I wouldn't honour such an agreement.” The way Markus said it, he sounded disappointed, almost depressed.
“Maybe,” Aela replied, the few dozen times they had been cheated from bounties flashing through her mind. Svala had never surrendered a bounty willingly, short of being at the wrong end of a sword point. But her mother's words also took this opportunity to repeat themselves in Aela’s mind, “He knows we set him up.”
“So?” Markus asked, his tone becoming lighter again, “What are you going to do with your share?”
“I don't know,” Aela replied noncommittally, “Mother handles the finances.” This was not a lie. As Aela was not certain what their share would be spent on, but she had a pretty good idea all the same.
Dowry, specifically Aela’s. The larger the dowry a prospective bride had set aside, the more attractive they would be to a suitor's family. This was particularly true because the potential groom would have to pay her parents a bride price as well. As Svala had explained it to her, it was not so simple as setting Aela’s bride price at a few chickens, hogs, or cattle, as a low bride price carried the expectation of an undesirable mate.
Conversely, a larger dowry only served to make you more appealing. The key, as Svala had put it, was making it impossible for a suitor's family not to approve the match, the bride's price being high, but making the dowry considerably higher. While this was a practice shared by southerners and even some of the easterners they had encountered, it was still not a subject Aela enjoyed discussing. It made her feel like a piece of meat dangling on a butcher’s hook. And not a particularly appetizing one at that, serving only to remind Aela of her pitifully low status in their clan.
“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to,” Markus said a little defensively, clearly not understanding the reason for her apprehension.
“I don't know,” she repeated, “We just save it,” Aela tasted the lie in her half-truth as she said it and immediately regretted it. Feeling guilty, Aela tried to shift the focus of the conversation back towards Markus. “What will you spend your share on?”
Markus was quiet, the uncomfortable stall in the conversation just about reaching its peak when he spoke again, “I'm not sure exactly.” He cleared his throat nervously before continuing, Markus’s tone somewhat sheepish as he elaborated, “Most likely some pieces of armour, though I am not sure what specifically right at this moment. Perhaps a few gemstones to work with if I can get a good deal, though I doubt I will. Maybe a deposit on a house, or buy a plot of land somewhere around hereabouts. Something like that.”
It was difficult for Aela to follow what Markus was saying, as his alternating excitement and embarrassment shifted the pitch of his voice and pace of his speech. She couldn't help herself from smiling though, Markus’s enthusiasm was infectious. “You want to live here?” Aela asked, a little surprised that an adventurer would want to settle down so far from one of the continent’s capitals, “In the middle of nowhere? Why?”
“It’s quiet,” Markus replied wistfully, “Peaceful-” He chuckled softly, “-most of the time.”
“You don't like fighting?” Aela was genuinely curious, particularly since he had done exceedingly well for someone who had no formal martial training.
Markus sighed before he answered, taking his time, “I am not very good at it,” there was another lengthy pause, “It is hard to enjoy something when you are bad at it.”
Aela was confused, “You are not skilled with a sword, but you are not bad at fighting.”
“How can you say that?” Markus demanded incredulously.
“Well-” Aela was getting flustered again, struggling to find the right words “-you are alive and they are not-”
Markus scoffed, “Luck, nothing more!” He hissed derisively.
Aela bit her tongue, taken aback by Markus's unfamiliar and aggressive shift in personality.
“Even a dog could kill a lion when backed into a corner.” The way Markus said it, it was clear his anger wasn't directed at her, but at himself.
“Why would you say that?” The way he was talking about himself was beginning to upset Aela.
“Because it's true,” Markus replied dismissively.
The finality in Markus's voice made it abundantly clear that he believed it. This side of him was not something Aela had expected. Markus seemed like a very different person when she had first met him, but perhaps she had simply not known him long enough to make an accurate estimation of his character.
“You shouldn't say things like that,” Aela said.
Markus didn't reply, seemingly content to dwell in his self-loathing.
Aela cursed inwardly, she had spoken the wrong words, “You shouldn't say things like that-” Aela had spoken much louder and more aggressively than she intended and took a breath to calm herself. “You should not be so unkind to yourself,” Aela was unsure of her interpretations, but her need to express what she felt took precedence over caution.
“Why would you say that?” Markus asked, his voice quiet and unsteady.
“You don't deserve it,” Aela replied more forcibly than she intended, her fingers tightening on the sled to suppress her mounting embarrassment. Aela had never spoken so candidly with anyone besides her mother, not even with her sister or brothers.
The awkward silence only continued to grow between them and Aela was growing more certain that she had overstepped. What did she know about Markus? Aela had only met him earlier that afternoon. While the preliminary information her mother had found on Markus strongly indicated he would suit their needs, no one they had spoken with had known anything about him personally. Markus had simply wandered into the town about four weeks ago and began working small bounties on his own, keeping to himself, and by all accounts actively avoiding most other adventurers.
“I’m sorry,” Markus apologised, “I am tired is all, and you don't deserve to be treated like that,” he sounded somewhat embarrassed but also more like himself again.
Re-entering the town had proven to be far easier and simpler than Aela had expected. Markus and Zoe had only needed to present their Guild identifications and then the guards had nearly fallen over each other in their haste to raise the portcullis.
Aela couldn't help but be a little impressed at the privilege even adventurers of Markus’s level and Guild standing enjoyed. Unlike most nobles that seemed to expect such deference, Markus seemed uncomfortable during the exchange, going so far as to apologize to the gate captain for their late entry to the town.
Markus was walking alongside Aela, even though he seemed to be quite tired and stiff, Markus had expressed no interest in riding on the sled again.
“It’s not that I don't want to, it's just, we will arrive at the Guildhall soon and I would rather have some feeling in my arms and legs when we do.” It was the only explanation Markus had given for his behaviour, so Aela just had to take it at face value.
Aela could hear Markus’s shallow breathing through the scarf she had lent him earlier, and it worried her. Despite Svala's medical aid, Markus was quite likely developing an infection or at the very least vulnerable to developing a fever.
“Markus?” Aela felt unsure where their boundaries in this employment relationship were, so she thought it best to test the waters first.
Markus turned his head slightly to show Aela she had his attention but said nothing.
“You should have someone look at that,” Aela gestured to his right arm with her chin.
“Yeah,” Markus agreed but said nothing more, his attention slowly drifting forward again.
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Markus didn't seem to mind her interest so Aela decided to test her luck further. “Maybe the bounty could heal it f-” Aela’s voice trailed off as Markus stopped dead in his tracks. She stopped and turned to see what had happened, worried Markus had been more exhausted than he had let on.
But Markus was just standing there in the middle of the cobbled street, small puffs of steam blowing forcefully from under the hood of his cloak.
Aela was growing worried, “Markus?” Despite only being a half dozen feet from her, Markus made no sign that he had heard what Aela said. She tried again, louder and more clearly this time, “MARKUS.”
Markus visibly flinched with a start and slowly matched pace with Aela again, but said nothing to explain his behaviour. At least the steady gouts of steam indicated Markus’s breathing had returned to normal.
“Are you alright?” Aela was worried now, he was acting unusual, even for a southerner.
“I’m fine,” Markus croaked, his voice dry and uneven. As if he were aware of how unconvincing his lie was, Markus cleared his throat before trying again, “I’m fine, really,” his bandaged hand twitched and Aela could smell fresh blood, “Besides, with the broken bones, it's best not to use magic to fix it anyway, right?”
This was her mother's area of expertise, but even Aela knew that Priests could deliberately avoid healing damaged bones if they felt their skills were insufficient for the task. The service was never free and outside of a party it would likely cost a sizable sum, but they had a Priest in their debt here and now. In the end, it was Markus’s choice, and Aela chose to respect it, even if it didn't make any sense.
“Markus?” Their bounty, Zoe, was waving at Markus to get his attention. When he made no signs of catching her up, Zoe turned and said something to Svala and her sled came to a halt. Zoe smiled sweetly as Markus and Aela were forced to stand still. Despite her none too subtle attempts to make eye contact with him, Markus appeared to be ignoring Zoe, glancing around the empty street as if he simply decided to stop and catch his breath.
Aela snickered, remembering perhaps a little too late, to cover her face with her hand and look away.
Seemingly unfazed Zoe had propped herself up on the sled and was awkwardly positioning her lifeless prosthetic leg. Sitting awkwardly with the good leg keeping Zoe upright and her prosthetic hanging limply over the side, Zoe drew the coin purse from her hip as she spoke, "Could you please recharge the gemstone in my leg? I can of course compensate you." She withdrew several crowns and shillings from the pouch and offered them to Markus.
Markus scowled, looking first at the coins Zoe was offering before looking her in the eyes, “I am unfamiliar with prosthetics, I am not even sure I can recharge it at all.”. He was speaking so slowly and deliberately, Aela had to assume it was for her benefit.
Taken slightly aback by Markus reply, Zoe’s earnest smile wavered only for a second as she pressed on, "You don't need to recharge everything, even a little should be enough to keep me walking unaided for a while."
Svala was smirking as she watched the exchange from over her shoulder. “The sooner we return to the Guildhall, the sooner you are rid of her,” she suggested helpfully.
Zoe seemed unfazed by the associated insult and said nothing.
“Fine,” Markus grunted, his expression darkening still further as Zoe’s smile broadened.
Zoe kicked off her boot and was beginning to unbutton the side of her pant leg but stopped when she saw Markus's incredulous expression. “Don't you need to see it?” She asked timidly.
Aela put her sled down and moved in for a closer look at Zoe’s exposed foot. It looked like it was made from some sort of carved and polished bone or ivory and was far more sophisticated than any of the other prosthetics Aela had seen until now. It had a myriad of articulated joints like some sort of expensive puppet, although the absence of strings left it hanging limp and unresponsive.
Markus rubbed at his eyes with his good hand and exhaled deeply before replying, “No.”
“Oh,” Zoe said sheepishly, buttoning her pant leg back up again and looking decidedly embarrassed.
Zoe’s embarrassment only increased still further as Markus squatted down by her leg and stared at it.
Curious, Aela wasn't sure what he was looking at until she saw his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the inky black orbs with their sapphire and silver corona pan back and forth across the length of the pant leg, pausing briefly at the ‘meat’ of Zoe’s thigh. Aela briefly wondered what Markus saw with those eyes and her thoughts began to wander. He had looked more or less at Aela when recharging the heat-stones earlier...She deliberately looked away, trying to clear her thoughts and found herself staring at Zoe’s toes.
“What is-” Zoe’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped as she stared down at her foot. Her toes were clenching and unclenching, first in unison then more or less independently. Zoe’s mouth opened and closed a few dozen times, but she couldn't manage to speak. Zoe just kept pointing at her foot and seemed to be unable to look away.
Aela looked past Markus to stand by her mother, unsure of what was going on. “Aren't they supposed to move?”
Svala seemed just as curious, but the intensity of her gaze told Aela that her mother had guessed something and wasn't willing to share.
Normally Aela didn't care when Svala did this, it was a common enough occurrence and she would let her know when it was relevant. This time felt different though and Aela didn't like it.
Zoe’s ankle joint began rolling in its socket. The range of movement was impressive, some sort of hidden grooves in the socket or joint seemed to be replicating hard limits on absolute revolutions, imitating the limitations of tendons and muscles.
Zoe was staring at Markus now but still couldn't speak. Her leg jolted, the knee joint straightened and her heel slammed hard into the cobbled street. Zoe yelped in pain, her coin purse slipping from her fingers and spilling onto the street as she instinctively recoiled and tumbled back onto the sled. Zoe hissed and rubbed at her foot then stopped for the briefest of moments before poking and prodding it, biting her lower lip as tears welled in her eyes. “I can feel it,” Zoe whispered in disbelief. Thick tears began streaming down her cheeks, “I can feel my leg again.”
Markus stood up and backed away, visibly uncomfortable and a little annoyed, “I told you I had never worked with prosthetics before!” He threw his hands up in exasperation and began walking down the street.
“Wait!” Zoe called out, unsteadily trying to get to her feet but couldn't balance well enough on her exposed prosthetic.
Sharing only a quick look with her mother, Aela jogged after Markus.
Markus was muttering under his breath and seemed more than a little unsteady on his feet.
Having caught up with him, Aela wasn't sure what she should say. Markus wasn't alright, something in his exchange with Zoe had upset him and Aela had no real idea what it was, just that it had something to do with the bounties prosthetic leg.
“Markus wait!” Zoe called out again from behind them.
Looking over her shoulder, Aela could see Zoe struggling as she unsteadily attempted to get to her feet. Near as Aela could tell, this was to be expected. Most amputees she had known struggled to gain their footing and balance after staying still for so long, so Aela had to assume it was little different with more expensive prosthetics than the basic peg legs.
Aela’s tongue flickered in annoyance, none too happy about recent events, but shifted her attention to Markus as she scented fresh blood. The linen bandaging wrapped around his hand was freshly stained, an ever-widening patch of crimson spreading from Markus’s palm and fingers. Everything else could wait, tending to his wound was more important. “Markus?” Aela asked, trying to get Markus’s attention but unsure of how he would react.
Markus tripped on an uneven paving stone and nearly fell.
Acting swiftly Aela took hold of him, intending to arrest Markus’s fall but nearly having to support his entire weight as she caught him. Markus’s face was so close to hers that Aela could hear his ragged shallow breathing, the accompanying phlegmy catch in his throat and the stench of blood on his breath all but confirming her suspicions. Markus’s injuries were either more severe than he had let on, or he had pushed himself far too hard.
“Hey, declare yourself!” An arrogant male voice called out from ahead of them. The speaker's booming baritone carried far into the quiet night, bouncing off the brick houses and walls, waking more than a few dogs.
Five men armoured in plate and mail were rapidly closing in on Aela and Markus from the direction of the Guildhall. They all had matching heraldry and tabards, a golden hammer entwined with thorns and blooming ivory roses set against a rich dark sapphire sea.
Their armour appeared to be exceptionally well made and was guaranteed to be enchanted and enhanced by Artificers. Four of them had swords drawn and the fifth held his sallet in his left hand. His hair was concealed beneath an arming cap and mail coif, the lower half of his face hidden completely by the bevor. He had intense green eyes, an uneven ruddy tan, and his brow was wrinkled in anger. He thrust his sallet towards them as he spoke, “I said, declare yourself! NOW!" He was not messing around, his right hand grasping the jewelled hilt of his longsword as he and his men took up positions in such a way that Aela and Markus would not be able to pass them uncontested.
Markus pushed himself off of Aela and much to her surprise managed to keep his footing, squaring his back and taking position slightly ahead of her. “You won't talk to my friend like this!” Markus spat the words with such bile and vitriol that Aela had mistakenly thought one of the helmed men had spoken.
The leader’s face grew redder as he growled a reply, "Respond or we'll kill you where you stand" he motioned to a pair of his men who began advancing on Aela and Markus.
“You so much as touch her, and-I-will-gut-you!” As Markus spoke, the light shed by his canteen grew darker, bathing the street in a deep blood-red glow.
The approaching men halted their advance, unsure of what to do and looking at each other rather than to their leader. Before they could come to a decision, all five of them cried out in surprise, their swords clattering to the street as if some unseen force had yanked them from their hands.
“What-” The leader looked down at his sword in confusion, reaching down and trying to pick it up. His gauntletted fingers slipped over the hilt and he tried again, this time trying to pry his fingers under it with minimal success. His men tried with their own swords and met with marginally better results. Succeeding only in lifting the hilt with pained grunts and cursing, but unable to raise the sword points from the cobblestones, their blades bending so far they ran the risk of permanent damage.
“Stop it right now!” Zoe was calling out from somewhere behind them, “Your actions put our house to shame!” She was speaking too fast for Aela to translate, but she sounded angry.
The leader's face went pale as a sheet and then red as a tomato as he blustered through a hasty reply, "My lady, it is good that you are well." He gave a stilted bow before standing to attention. “But these thugs assaulted my men and must be punished accordingly-” He broke his salute long enough to jab an accusatory finger at Markus and Aela, his tone bitter and angry.
Aela could hear Zoe’s footsteps now, her bootless prosthetic clacking against the street. “You won't do anything like that!” She had raised her voice only loud enough to make sure she was heard, but the leader reacted as if Zoe screamed in his face, reddening to such a degree that he nearly turned purple from the effort of restraining himself.
“But-” The leader sputtered, only to be cut off again.
“BUT NOTHING!” Zoe entered Aela’s field of view now, arms clenched into fists at her sides and her cheeks flushed red in fury. Zoe jabbed her right index finger into the man's armoured chest, “You won't do anything!” Without breaking eye contact she waved an expansive hand in Markus and Aela’s direction, “They saved my life. They are the reason I am still alive sir Albert!" Zoe jabbed him in the chest again to emphasise her point, “Not you!”
The leader’s face went deathly pale, his brow and face gleaming with sweat as he bowed on one knee, “Forgive me, my lady!”
Aela couldn't afford to follow the conversation any longer, Markus had stumbled backward into her and all but collapsed.
“Mother!” Aela turned and was surprised to find Svala only a few paces behind her and already rummaging through her pack.
“Likely overexerted himself,” Svala said, withdrawing a small glass vial and giving it a good shake. “Though an early infection may have taken hold. I will need to get him to a clean bed to perform a more thorough examination,” uncorking the vial, she poured a small portion of contents between his lips and then gently massaged Markus’s throat, “That should help keep his airway open in the meantime.”
“Infection? Examination?” Zoe had stopped berating the armoured men long enough to overhear Svala but was perhaps not as fluent as she had let on, although Zoe admittedly seemed genuinely concerned.
“Maybe, an infection,” Svala corrected.
Aela reflexively turned Markus away and injected herself between him and Zoe as she made to move closer.
“I can help,” Zoe said, taking a half step forward but balked as Aela turned her head, bared her teeth and hissed, thick rivulets of drool running down her teeth and over her lips.
Svala took hold of Aela’s shoulder and squeezed hard.
Turning back and expecting to see recrimination or rebuke in her mother's gaze for her overreaction, Aela was surprised to find unexpected support.
Looking past Aela, Svala addressed Zoe directly, “We need to perform a thorough examination before magical healing is used. If we are reckless, we will likely do more harm than good.”
Accepting Svala’s logic, or more likely unwilling to challenge her, Zoe backed down.
Though loath to let him go, Aela relinquished Markus to her mother's care. Not at all surprised to find Svala could sweep Markus up and cradle him in her arms like a large baby.
Unphased by Markus’s weight, Svala began making her way down the street at an effortlessly brisk pace.
Aela watched her mother go but was unsure what to do. She wanted to run after her, every instinct was driving Aela to do it, to sprint after them, to hell with their valuables. However, Svala's rigid training and draconian punishments gave Aela pause. Grudgingly she ran back to her sled and then began charging back up the street. “Get on!” She hissed at their bounty.
Zoe just stood there, confused.
“GET ON!” Aela roared, her anxiety boiling over into overt hostility.
Zoe recoiled, then stealing her nerves turned to the five armoured men, “I'll see you at the Guildhouse-” She said matter of factly, hopping onto Aela’s sled then adding, “-Gather my things before you do.”
Securing a bed to perform the examination had been easy enough, the same clerk was still on duty and had recognized Markus and Svala immediately, promptly leading Svala to his prepaid accommodations, and opened the door for them with her master key.
It was a large room in all respects, with imposing dressing cabinets and a bed large enough for three or four people to sleep comfortably side by side. Aela had left Zoe at the front desk and the sled outside, reasonably confident that the clerk would take responsibility in the meantime.
“Undress him!” Svala’s tone made it clear she was in no mood for further delay.
Aela was cutting Markus's shirt free as fast as she dared, sparing only a momentary glance to gauge her mother's progress on treating his hand and wrist.
Svala was rebinding the wounds, having stripped the old dressing, thoroughly recleaned the open sores, and lashed splints to support his wrist.
Finally finished with the outer seams, Aela pulled Markus's shirt free with a firm tug, discarding the cloth off to the side and revealing a huge discoloured bruise on his chest.
“Minimal bruising,” Svala said matter of factly, “Good.” She began poking and prodding Markus's chest with her fingers and palms, “Nothing broken.” Next, Svala leaned over and pressed her right ear against each side of his chest in turn, “Odd, lungs are clear, but there is mucus in the airway,” placing two fingers against Markus’s jugular, Svala applied minor pressure, then pried Markus’s mouth open and stared intently inside, “Throat infection,” she concluded matter of factly.
“So he's okay,” Aela asked, already relieved by her mother's rather noticeable change in focus and intensity.
Svala sighed, rolling her shoulders, “Seems to be-”
Aela released the deep breath she hadn't known she was holding up until that moment. Her mother, thankfully, said nothing, though there was no doubt in Aela’s mind that Svala had heard it.
“He will need to take something for the throat infection, I will most likely need to give him something for that if he won’t see a Priest. The wrist is just sprained and the ribs are only bruised, so he will need to take it easy for a few weeks or so, but they should be fine on their own. The hand will need to be cleaned and redressed regularly though, or it will get infected-” The way Svala had suddenly paused began fueling Aela’s anxiety again.
“What is it?” Aela asked worriedly.
“That's strange,” her mother muttered cryptically and made no signs of elaborating further.
Aela risked approaching the bedside again, to see what she was looking at. At first, Aela didn't see it, her mother's gaze wandering over Markus’s skin so expansively that Aela had no real idea where to look, then she saw it. Ephemeral silver blemishes on his pale skin, some larger and others smaller, but the longer Aela looked the more of them she saw. “What are they?” Aela hadn't realized she had spoken the thought aloud.
“Scars,” Svala replied absently, now examining Markus's right arm, then his hand, and paying lingering attention to the tips of his fingers. Her focus held longest on a large blotch at the base of the underside of his wrist, she said nothing but her brow furrowed in anger.
Thinking her mother had finally taken umbrage with her undesired intrusion, Aela stepped back.
Svala seemed entirely absorbed in her task, gingerly lifting Markus into a sitting position and examining his back. Her eyes grew wide and she bared her teeth. Svala gently laid Markus back down, drawing fresh blankets up to his neck, but leaving his uninjured arm free, while making sure his injured hand was below the covers. She was staring at his right wrist again, drawing her conclusions and setting the information to one side for later. “So this is why.” Svala muttered while nodding to herself with a dour look of understanding on her face.
“What is it?” Aela asked, more than a little surprised by the number of Markus’s strange scars she had counted before they were concealed by the blankets.
Svala sighed and rubbed at her brow, in the space of a few seconds now seeming to have aged decades with how tired she seemed to have become. “Do you remember what I taught you about scars?” It was a rhetorical question and they both knew it, Svala gave Aela no time to answer before continuing, “Well if you remember what I told you about magical healing, you would, of course, be familiar with the myth that it leaves no scars.” She lifted Markus’s arm and angled his wrist, so the large silver blemish shimmered in the light, “Although difficult to see, the scars are still there, a reflection of the injury before magic seals the wound.”
Aela’s eyes went wide in shock, unable to make up her mind as she looked first at her mother, then Markus then her mother again, “But he has to have dozens-”
“Much more,” Svala corrected, her tone deathly serious but elaborating no further as she instead continued her original explanation, “For someone his age to have so many scars, with many of them with such consistent and deliberate placement-” Svala sighed again, “I know of only one explanation that adequately explains everything, but the ramifications are even more disturbing.”
“Only one explanation?” Aela thought, a chill running down the nape of her neck and down to the tip of her tail. Some part of her subconscious had pieced it together, infuriatingly leaving Aela still very much in the dark. “Ritual scarification tattoos?” She discarded the idea, the point of those was to openly display them, not hide them.
The map of Markus's scars Aela had seen were taking shape in her mind. He had only a handful of normal scars, none of them larger or longer than the tip of his pinky finger and all of them looked somewhat recent. Why magically heal some injuries and leave others? They were at odds with each other.
“He looked like a trapped animal,” the thought resurfaced in Aela’s mind, the accompanying memory of Markus and Zoe on the sled playing out again and again. Another chill ran down Aela’s spine and her hands began to tremble, Markus had been terrified of Zoe... “No,” She thought, that wasn't quite right. Markus had been fine going into the dungeon to try and rescue her, he had been fine right up until Zoe woke up, and even then he didn't get upset until...Until she touched him. Aela’s stomach was twisting itself in knots, each piece of the puzzle only serving to amplify her anxiety and despair as they came together.
“He was tortured...” Aela barely registered that she had voiced her realization aloud, “And they kept healing him to keep him alive...” Filled with rage and despair Aela wanted to scream.
No doubt understanding Aela’s feelings, her mother drew Aela into a tight embrace.
Burying her face in her mother’s chest, Aela let loose a primal cry of anguish. Whoever did this, she would make them pay!