Gazing up at the bright stars in the night sky brought little relief to the raven-haired witch that the storm had passed them. The rain had thankfully stopped, but the evening brought with it an unbearable cold as she witnessed her breathe hang in the air. Her only consolation to her drenched frigid body was feeling Ronan’s feverish body behind her. It had been hours since he lapsed into a feverish sleep as Isabella led the horse in different directions to ensure they were not being followed. The confidence that her and Ronan had not been discovered did not comfort Isabella as she was confident that they were lost in the wilderness.
She had desperately wandered through the woodlands in the moonlight seeking a comfortable spot for resting and tending to Ronan’s wounds. By sheer luck, she had stumbled across a haven hidden amongst the trees and overhanging vines. Steam rose above a small pool of water with a dry clearing of land encircling it. Isabella had gotten down from the stead to lead horse and rider further into the secluded area. Pain shot up her cold hands and down her frozen feet. Crouching down and crying crossed Isabella’s mind, but she was so unlucky that her tears would freeze on her face. And she could not concentrate on her misery as Ronan’s health was in a poor state.
Bringing the horse to a halt, Isabella wondered how she could successfully pull the unconscious Ronan off the back of the animal. Coming up beside the steed, she focused on the warlock’s face brimming with beads of sweat. Brushing his hair to the side, Isabella called out to him. “Ronan, Ronan, can you wake up?” Nudging his shoulder turned to light shaking as the dark-haired warlock did not respond. “Please Ronan, answer me.” Her emotions overtook her as threatened tears turned to actual tears. She had never felt so helpless before in her life. How was she going to care for him if she could not even get him down?
Placing her face in both of her hands, Isabella willed herself not to fall to pieces but to pull herself together. She just had to make it work. Uncovering her face, she grabbed his shoulders with her hands, steadied her feet, and began pulling Ronan towards her trying to brace him with her weight. Unfortunately, he slid off the horse onto Isabella knocking her back to the ground. In a thump, she hit the ground with the warlock on top of her still unconscious. She lost her breath with his heavy weight on top of her. Once she regained her breath, she muttered to herself. “Good job Isabella, now what?”
The raven-haired witch squirmed underneath him attempting to free herself. Maneuvering her way against the cold ground, Isabella pushed his arms over her body until she lay beside him. Ronan was on the ground, now she had to check on his wounds hoping there was enough moonlight to adequately see. Pulling his vest and shirt over his back, Isabella felt sick to her stomach when she got a good look at his injuries. Infection had set in. The marks were raised and puffier than when she had seen them this morning and a substance was oozing from the wounds. Again, tears burst forth as Isabella began sobbing at the sight of the infected wounds.
These wounds were in bad shape as her thoughts ran rampant. Ronan was going to die and there was nothing she could do to save him. What could she do now? They were out in the freezing cold with no one to help, and her warlock was going to die. Was this her fault? What if they stayed at the castle and waited until his wounds heal before travelling? This was all her fault. She was foolish and pressured Ronan to take her away from the castle. Her own selfish desires were going to cause Ronan to die. The dark-haired warlock would have been better off if he had never met Isabella. She pressured him to leave and now he was going to die because of her.
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Get a hold of yourself thought Isabella. Calm down and think. She could clean the wounds again, and maybe she could get him to his village Darini in time to help him. Isabella stood up to retrieve her rags from the saddle she had packed this morning. Finding the rolled-up fabric, Isabella concentrated on remaining calm as she crouched down by the pool of water. Shoving the rags and her hand down into the water, Isabella jumped in shock that the water was warm. “Yes!” She screamed out in joy as Isabella was in pure joy; she had stumbled upon a hot spring. She thanked and thanked the Divine as it meant they would not be freezing tonight.
Drenching the material, she stood up and returned to Ronan laying on the ground. She began stretching the different sections of fabric covering the gashes on his back. Ronan twitched when the warm rags touched him. It was not enough to clean his back; Isabella knew submerging in the warm water could help them both from freezing to death. But how was she going to get the warlock to the water? In a test, she moved to his front, took his arms and tried to pull him forward. Groaning as she pulled with all her might, the dark-haired warlock did not budge an inch. He was too heavy for her.
She fell to her knees in defeat. She could not be this close to a solution only to be bested. Instead of tears, Isabella filled with rage and pounded her fists on the ground in anger. The white spark toiled within her as she grasped onto it and hung onto the energy. Within her the spark twisted and turned gaining power and intensifying in nature. Isabella called out in her mind. “Help me.” Wind rustled by her hair and ear flowing out of her. Could she control this wind? Could she use it to her advantage? Grasping tighter to the spark, she reached her arms outwards to Ronan and paid attention to the force and direction of the generated wind. With both hands outstretched, it blew directly in front of her.
Isabella moved her left hand back and noted the change in direction. Concentrating on Ronan, she motioned her hands upward as he began to rise from the ground. Releasing a laugh, she stated. “I can do this. Yes, I can do this.” Ever so gently, she motioned upward with her hands and the warlock rose another couple of inches. She nodded as she understood with her abilities, she could move him into the water. But she could not soak their clothes as they would only freeze faster when out of the pool. Isabella gently moved her hands downwards to set Ronan back on the ground. She decided to hang their clothes to dry as they bathed in the hot spring.
Afraid that she would lose manipulation of the spark if she did not hurry, Isabella content on her plan began removing her clothes, Ronan’s clothes, and hanging them to dry. Her fear of modesty was pushed to the side as her fear of freezing was greater. She moved even quicker once she was naked and even colder. Sliding into the warm water she crouched down to submerge up to her neck. Raising her hands, she ever so gently rose Ronan into the air and using the wind moved him closer to her. Isabella brought him close to her and began softly lowering him into the water. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders to keep his head in the crook of her neck and above the water.
With her arms around him, she held him tightly in a loving embrace. Isabella would admit if anybody saw Ronan floating through the air that it might appear foolish. But the only thing that mattered was keeping her Ronan alive and well. The heat of the water calmed Isabella and made the situation appear more manageable. She was lost at this moment, but when the sun rose in the east in the morning, Isabella would have an idea on which direction to head. She recalls his village Darini was further north. Within her arms, she focused on her white spark and hoped it could heal the man she held. She concentrated on directing her love and strength towards the dark-haired warlock. Ronan had fought for Isabella several times; it was time for Isabella to fight for Ronan.