The three of us had a small chat about magic, by which I mean the prince and saintess had a chat about magic. I continued training my body and caught a few pieces of their conversation. I tried doing a few one-armed push-ups so that I wouldn’t hurt my good arm.
“I would work on setting a few conditional magics on yourself. In your case, make the desire to be healthy at the forefront of your mind. Hurt yourself a few times once you better understand how it feels to have the magic run through which veins for that idea. That will be the first step to creating a conditional spell.”
I got up from my previous position as the prince began lecturing the saintess. I put my back to the wall and assumed a sitting position with my arms out in front of me.
“I understand how that might help me, but wouldn’t the fact that my body wants to be a martyr work against that? Also, wouldn’t trying to heal myself when I have stressed my magic veins to their limits only hurt me?” The saintess had a hand on her chin looking contemplatively at the prince. He had a prideful look, but not one of looking down on her. He seemed to enjoy acting as a teacher.
“That is true. That is why you need to make sure it activates based on something you do, not your enemy. Once you have created a conditional spell, it becomes nearly impossible to erase it from your soul. More than one mage has been defeated by using their conditional spells against them. Never. Ever. Make a conditional spell without thinking through all the ways the conditions could be exploited against you.”
I picked up my sword and slowly went through some basic swings with my bad arm. Basic swings become the building blocks for advanced tactics. As the two kept talking magic, a knock sounded at the door. I put down my sword and walked over, opening the door.
Standing there was the monk with a nervous smile and Logan with a very serious expression. Before he even got in the door he muttered “You should have had your shield ready in case we were assassins”. Glancing at my sword she added, “Also keep your sword in range when opening the door from now on”.
The prince waited for us to close the door before speaking. “I suppose we don’t have to ask how your inquiry went. Seems like we have illegal bounties on our heads. How did you make it out alive? How do you know you weren’t followed?”
“I was followed. I simply lost them by sprinting around a corner towards a guard. The guard saw I was being chased and demanded an explanation. Easy thing about looking like a skinny thief, you don’t need excuses for why you aren’t anything else. They wanted to question me privately, but I said that it should be done at the guard’s barracks to feel safer.” At this point, I realized all four of us were leaning in to catch Logan’s story. “The two following me got evasive about wanting it done as a private matter and the guard was very easily swayed to distrust the other two. I took a direct path here with a guard escort, so common sense dictates we have this place trapped to kill at least five people.”
The saintess tilted her head. “Common sense? What kind of ‘common’ do you guys have?”
“Criminals rarely enter their homes so openly unless they feel safe from other criminals sneaking in,” was my answer.
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“You are missing the important detail in that story, tell us about what caused your current anxiety.” The prince went over to the door and locked it. “I feel like this is as safe as we are going to get.”
Logan paused for a moment, looking for the right words. “Nothing was done illegally there. Five wanted posters were put up for five criminals. A thief, a bandit, a spy, a heretic, and an impersonator. All have known second paths with no known info on the possible third paths. Due to having unknown third paths, many bounty hunters will take a stance of shooting first and asking questions later. The posters have just enough visual differences that they aren’t guaranteed to be us, but given that they were put up together, many would assume the posters were brought here due to us traveling to this area together. Us lacking the lack of scars from the posters could be from our healer, the heretic poster, removing them. We shouldn’t travel all together until something can be done about them. One or two people looking like a wanted poster is an odd coincidence. Five together is a completely different story. Also, better I won’t tell you the price on our heads, many would kill us, scar our heads, and run with the money.”
“If it was done fully legally, it would take at least two weeks to sort out. ” The prince stated. Given him having the best knowledge from the right side of the law on bureaucracy, we didn’t argue.
Without anyone having anything to add to the conversation, it suddenly pittered out. We all remained where we were in silence, processing the new information. I absentmindedly scratched my bad arm, only to pull back in pain. The monk looked over when she saw me suddenly flinching.
“I got some herbs to help fight off the infection. We just need to grind them into a paste. Can you make me a mortar and pestle?” I gave her a blank look. Neither of those things were known to me.
With a more disappointed voice, she asked, “Can you make a simple bowl and a stick to mash it with”.
I nodded at the more understandable request, grabbing my stone cast to make the bowl out of. I worked on the shape of it, molding the stone like clay. I made another stone to mash it with. As annoying as the idea was, I was getting far better with my magic.
The monk accepted it with a simple thanks. Pouring in some water from her waterskin and mashing it into a paste.
We began to argue about who would do what tomorrow. The saintess wanted to go with me to a blacksmith to get a basic weapon for altering her path. Logan decided to remain in the room tomorrow as he wanted to look out the windows for a day double checking how much the building was being watched. The prince then decided that he would go with the monk to find acceptable requests for us to fulfill. I assume acceptable means not below our station, helping our paths progress, and giving enough money to pay for our room and food for a day.
The monk finally finished the mix for my arm, scooping it out with her fingers.
“Alice, come over here.” The saintess leaned even closer towards my arm as the monk prepared to put the stuff on. “Normally we would have everyone help with healing, taking some part in helping bandage or apply ointment who wants to further their healing, but you want to get a branching path that isn’t solely focused on healing. Still, I would rather you learn and if I have something happen to my back I will need someone who can put the medicine there. Have you ever put an ointment on before?”
“No, at least, not in this body, I believe I tended to my own wounds before.”
“Mind not talking about me like I am not here?”
The monk looked at me and then ignored my question. She turned back to the saintess “Now, when healing with these herbs it should be painless. It will only cause pain when the patient already has an infection.”
She started slathering it all across my scar and I suppressed a scream.