The Gift (Part 1)

Eana slept fitfully. When the anxiety of her close call with death in the woods managed to finally give in to the exhaustion of her flight, her dreams sent her directly back into the forest.

The Drones caught up to her there. They were all around her ripping and tearing at her as the adventurers stood idly. Watching.

She woke again, her brain still fuzzy and stuck in that space between dreaming and almost feverish, resentful wakefulness.

Fingers appeared around the edge of her door. Sharp, hard shapes that seemed to elongate in the shadows of the gloom filtering in through her window. Her heart, still not calm from the terror of her nightmares, threatened to beat out of her chest as the sound of clicking and scraping rose slightly with the creaking of the opening door.

The shape in the doorway resolved into something else. Tall, much too tall and lacking all the hard angles of the insectoid Drones.

Frozen and only able to stare, she breathed out a shaking breath as the shape in the doorway resolved into Idris.

The two had arrived home, later than expected, but also in better shape than when they had left the wilderness.

Idris had had Eana heal all of their cuts, scrapes and scratches, then the two of them had done what they could to clean up their faces and clothes in order to make a show of not having done everything that they had in fact done just prior. And if their father had suspected anything he hadn’t said it.

She sat up and watched as he gently eased the door open, trying not to make any noise. He started when he saw her already awake, and in the dim predawn gloom she could see that he wasn’t wearing his work clothes. Was he planning on skipping out on heading into the mine with Dad? He and Idris usually headed out just before dawn.

He motioned for her to get her clothes on and mouthed, “Outside.”

She nodded and having realized the need for silence, slowly swung her legs out of bed as Idris backed out the door. It only took her a few moments to pull on a loose fitting long brown dress and to secure a belt with a few pouches around her waist. She tied up her red hair in a loose bun and headed out.

She stealthily closed the door behind her as she exited their modest home on the outskirts of Irondale and looking around saw Idris returning from the workshed where they stored their tools. He was carrying his hammer.

Odd choice of item for whatever this mystery gift was, but okay.

Still bleary eyed from sleep and stifling a yawn, Idris said, “Yahn, you look just like I feel.”

Eana hadn’t taken a look at herself in the mirror, but considering how much she had actually slept the night before she figured she must be borderline scary.

“I’ve been awake for a while. I don’t sleep so well these days.”

“Since when?”

Eana just shrugged again and changed the subject, “So what are we doing out here?”

Idris contemplated her for a moment. And another moment. The delay in him responding started to feel like he had fallen into some kind of trance .

She shoved him.

“Hello? Idris?” Eana said.

He focused back on her, “What?”

“You fall asleep standing or something?”

Idris smiled, “Just thinking. You ready to do this thing?”

“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing,” Eana said.

“Let me hang onto the surprise for a little while. You might even figure it out.”

“Well, can you at least tell me where you’re taking me?”

Idris made a show of thinking about it for a moment before answering, “The Inn.”

“Ooo! Breakfast? I’d love some bacon.”

Idris jangled what money he had in his pocket. He remained mysterious and smiled as he said, “Shoot, I left that in my other pants. Think I’d wake you up just for breakfast?”

Eana smiled, mollified for the moment.

They started walking toward the village and Eana couldn’t help but wince at the soreness in her legs. She really could use some more sleep. And an entire day or two of just laying in her bed, if she was being honest.

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Idris noticed and gave her a playful backhanded slap to her thigh and teased, “Legs hurting after that little jaunt last night, Yahn?”

She hop shuffled awkwardly in an effort to shake out her legs and keep walking, “I just did a little more running yesterday than I usually do.”

That was her understatement of the year. She had probably run more yesterday than she did in a normal month.

“Come to think of it,” Idris said, probing, “you should have been home well before Dad and I. How long were you out there?”

She just shrugged in reply.

But still Idris pressed, “When did you head out there? And how exactly did a party of adventurers that you were backpacking actually lose you? They were being attacked by bug men and they lost their Healer?”

She stayed quiet. She didn’t want to get into it.

It was so hard to keep this part of her life separate from Idris and her dad. It didn’t make any sense to her, so how could it make any sense to them that she was actually starting to agree with the adventurers who called her bad luck?

How could it ever sound like anything other than the girly insecurities of a pre-teen that she felt like people were always standoffish, callous, and sometimes like yesterday, genuinely cruel to her?

Ugh but it was more than that!

When people turned ten Order invested them with their Path Interface, the ability to grow and progress using XP, and gave them one spell or skill they could choose from a small selection.

It was random as far as she knew, but both she and her brother had been given the chance to learn a rare skill. Minor Heal for her, and Radiance for him. And with that rare skill came the ability to grow into a rare class!

Being a Healer should have made Eana the darling of Irondale! But it didn’t. Just the opposite in fact.

And being a Light Mage, Idris couldn’t progress at all since he had no mentor and no way of understanding how to learn new skills. Which should have made him a laughing stock. And it sort of did. Except he was also gifted with his weird affinity for strength and so everybody overlooked it and the adventuring bands sometimes even tried recruiting him.

Adventurers, apparently, preferred huge arms over healing.

But, to be fair, when Eana healed it just… it wasn’t worth explaining or trying to explain to Idris. He didn’t seem bothered by it the way the others were.

Eana noticed Idris still waiting for her to answer his question but she figured she could wait him out.

It always worked. He would just fill the silence with an explanation and she’d just let him think whatever he came up with.

But Idris seemed to have grown wise to this tactic as he kept glancing at her expectantly as they walked through the empty streets of the still sleeping town.

He waited. And waited. It took a full two minutes but finally Eana couldn’t take it anymore. She would give him SOMETHING.

“It was my fault,” she said, adding quietly, “It always is.”

Not taking the bait, Idris continued his wait, his silence a sucking void that continued to draw out her words.

“I do something when I heal. How can you not feel it? Everybody does,” she finally said.

He squinted his eyes in confusion, “I feel less pain. Which is weird, I guess. Is it different when Gendra does it or something?”

She looked momentarily surprised, “You’ve never been healed by Gendra?”

“Why would I when we’ve got you at home?”

“Because everybody… huh,” Eana let out a single sardonic chuckle. To think that Idris was likely the only person in town who had never been healed by Gendra. He actually couldn’t compare that experience with what it was like when she healed him. Would he change if he knew? If he could understand?

“You really don’t think it’s weird or… uncomfortable when I heal you?”

He replied, completely deadpan, “I think everything you do is weird.”

She stopped walking, taken by a sudden thought and Idris had to glance back twice before stopping to see what was wrong.

Her brother’s love might hinge on the fact that he, among all others - even her father- had never once experienced healing from somebody other than herself.

But even realizing this, she doubted it would change anything if he realized how unusual her healing was. He just accepted it for what it was - accepted her for how she was.

Just a little weirdo he was proud to call his sister.

He walked backward to get back in line with her, “Yahn, what- ”.

“I hate you Idris!” she said, smirking.

“Hate to love me, maybe,” Idris teased, “You know I was only joking though ri-” she interrupted him with a hug, her arms tight around him like she thought he might escape if she lapsed for even a second.

What if something happened to take this away from her? The one real relationship she had in her life that was untainted by her Chaos cursed healing. Bad things happened when she was around.

Her breath caught in her chest and she felt the beginning of panic start to well up when, finally, he put his own arms around her and hugged her back.

She got it under control after a few moments and giggled, “Yeah, OK. Fine. Hate to love you, Idris.”

He ruffled her hair and they continued onward and for better or for worse, she knew that some part of her facade had been ruined and Idris saw a little bit more of who she really was and the burdens she carried.

She knew there were dozens of small tells, from her perpetually tired eyes and how easily she could be irritated, to the rumors and whispers about her around town. This was just one more, but somehow it felt bigger than all the others.

Idris asked, voice somehow conveying the knowledge that something had changed between them, “What have they been doing to you?”

She looked up at him and then quickly away. This wouldn’t do at all. One new lapse was enough for one morning.

She played for time as she raced for an excuse or something, anything to tell him other than the truth, “What do you mean?”

“Everybody else,” Idris clarified, gesturing.

She stayed quiet. Not this time. Nothing new.

After another few moments Idris seemed to take the hint.

“You know what? Bacon wasn’t actually part of the original plan,” he said, “But I think we can accommodate. It is your birthday present, after all.”

She laughed then. Her relief palpable.

“Sounds good to me,” she said.

“Uh uh,” he said, “We’re going to come back to talking about last night, though. And the rest of it. After breakfast. You little bacon beast.”