Belonging to the voluntary healers' corps of Elker allowed me to have knowledge of the city's most scandalous events.
Accidents and bar brawls were commonplace in emergency healing services. It wasn't normal for me to be involved in highly sensitive matters, but the lack of personnel and my expertise as a healer —especially considering my experience with poisons— compelled me to handle situations where absolute discretion was a matter of life or death. Assassination attempts, suicide endeavors and similar incidents involving celebrities or politicians were among the anecdotes that I could never discuss with anyone, as I have signed silence pacts where I wagered my life.
I was accustomed to surprises in my job, where I witnessed daily things that were horrible in more than one sense, but nothing seemed as alarming at that time as the cases of merchants and tourists injured as a result of the violent inspections by the Royal Guard. Initially, the mysterious efforts to inspect goods and passersby on royal roads were justified by an alleged increase in the rate of violent robberies and child kidnappings. However, as intense rumors about the disappearance of Caisam —the city's heir— grew, people began to connect the dots about the true reasons behind the constant surveillance of the roads.
The situation escalated to an unprecedented magnitude. First, they set up control centers at the city's entrances to check everyone entering or leaving; then, they paid attention to the Healing Centers of the goddess Gaia, where due to our altruistic nature —compelling us to attend to anyone in need without asking questions— some criminals might occasionally seek refuge. I faced the initial interrogations with courage, as my master had already considered the possibility of them happening. The problem was that those sessions became increasingly frequent: the same damn military man, at the same time with the same initial questions as a prelude to his elaborate maneuvers.
"Is it possible that you've seen young Caisam without knowing?", was a question with which he began the final part of his most severe interrogations. Any answer was bad. Flatly denying it would arouse suspicion, while acknowledging the possibility of having seen him would give him a chance to continue his game. After responding sensibly, he proceeded to give me Caisam's description and asked if any young person frequenting the Healing Center did not match his appearance. "It's possible," was my best response, after which he continued his barrage of redundant questions. I managed to maintain composure despite the persistent way he tried to make me admit that I knew more than I was revealing. His penetrating gaze made me uncomfortable to the point of despair. And why wouldn't it, if Caisam d'Elker himself was hiding in our basement with his girlfriend.
My master had promised to provide them with safe transportation to escape from what lurked in the shadows, but his efforts stagnated for weeks during which we ended up forging a mutual affection with those young ones.
My master's company had always been rewarding for me, but spending time with the young couple was a lot of fun. He had a cheerful personality while she was more serious, but the two of us always ended up laughing at the boy's antics. I didn't have friends my age, so interacting with them —who were only three years older than me— stimulated me in ways I had never experienced. Both young people also developed a deep interest in my master's adventures, so we spent several hours sharing the most outstanding stories of our lives.
I remember wishing they would never leave, although I recognize how selfish my intentions were. I was worried about the day when I could no longer see them and constantly asked my master about the date he would organize their escape. At first, he didn't say much. He evaded the topic and tried to direct my attention to more interesting things. He was absent from our house from sunrise to sometimes the next day. Only on rare occasions was he in the mood to tell me about his adventures, thanks to which I had a slight idea of what he was doing when he was away from home. He had been checking schedules, routes, rumors about the roads, whispers about Caisam's disappearance, and everything that could be useful to plan the safest possible escape.
Needless to say, my master was a very meticulous man who didn't usually make decisions without weighing every possible outcome. He predicted the weather for the coming weeks by observing the clouds, made a deal with the chosen transporter, mapped out the route they would take, established strict schedules to follow at each geographical point, and also took precautions in case anything went wrong. The moment came when he named a date for our friends to depart for their destination. Sadness overwhelmed me when I learned the news, but I tried to feel happy for the couple.
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
I prepared a special dinner a few days before as a farewell, and we gathered that night to celebrate their escape. We chatted with the same liveliness as always, between jokes and stories, until my master revealed bad news at the end of the evening.
—A problem will delay their departure —he said—. It will be a considerable few days, if I'm not mistaken.
—What happened? —Caisam asked.
—A series of murders has put the authorities on alert —he said as if it were any news—. If the problem is resolved, they will leave soon. If not, I will develop an alternative for them to leave. Tomorrow I will know if it's one case or the other.
We regretted hearing that and tried to maintain a pleasant conversation until the end of the night, but worry was gnawing at my head. It was possible that my new friends were in some danger, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. My master wouldn't allow anything bad to happen to them, but that didn't prevent the concern from overwhelming me. He was the most trustworthy man in all of Norus from my point of view, but he didn't control the world or its capricious events whose randomness was beyond all human prediction.
My master said goodbye, letting us know that he would spend that night studying the firmament. He mentioned the name of a spatial region, although I no longer remember which one. Hearing him invoke strange words was quite common, but I was never good at memorizing them. He went down to the basement, came back with his telescope, and left the house to go up to the roof. I decided to join him, during which we chatted animatedly until I ended up sleeping on his lap while he was immersed in those documents he used to write in a strange language. Only the rays of the sun separated us from our comfortable positions, as I hated the heat, and my master was uncomfortable with the intense morning light. We entered the house and greeted the couple, who were already having breakfast that Irene had prepared for us. We joined them and chatted.
We touched on various topics on that occasion, although I admit that the conversation was mostly dominated by my persistent questions about the stars: what they were, how they were, why they existed, and other things that my master had explained to me hundreds of times, but I never fully understood despite my attempts. He always listened attentively and responded as if it were the first time, but now he was especially motivated by the presence of two new apprentices who only fueled my enthusiasm for topics that I rarely could share with any stranger. That's how we were for a while until that topic faded away among other issues that led to an intense debate about the nature of sounds, which didn't seem as relevant to me as to my master.
—And yet, it is of utmost importance —he said in response to my reproaches—. A sound can reveal a lot to us, both about the nature of the one who emits it and the surface it propagates through. Some cycles ago, I installed a circular platform in front of our door, do you remember? I have identified the material's density and proportions, taking into account the volumetric expansion according to the ambient temperature, so I can recognize the mass of whoever steps on it just by the sound the plate emits under their feet.
A characteristic creak appeared in the distance, extending as the material adapted to the weight of the mysterious individual who had arrived at our door, after which our guests jumped from their seats to hide in the basement.
—We have a test subject there —my master said after a brief pause—. It's an elderly man with an injured leg and excellent work boots, a soldier or adventurer. He weighs around a hundred kilos, considering his equipment. I think I know who he is. Stay by my side, Abigail. Perhaps you'll be interested in hearing this. —My master went to the door—. Come in, sir. Please, have a seat.
A burly, gray-haired man entered the house, seemingly elderly, but whose movements reflected a youthful energy. He had a distinctive handlebar beard, trimmed on the sides but abundant on the mustache and chin. He had a deep gaze and an authoritative gesture typical of strict teachers or soldiers. He was dressed in a formal tunic that reached his knees —reinforced on the chest and shoulders to accentuate his masculine figure— and high-quality pants that concealed the boots my master had mentioned. His attire had dark orange tones typical of a color code imposed by the kingdom, revealing that he held some important rank in a civilian organization. On his chest, there was a silver-made metallic figure shining in a white tone. It had been woven in such a way that it blended with his tunic on four different sides. It consisted of a shield in the center where a pair of Aradans stood facing forward with open wings. Such an accessory corresponded to a guild, although I couldn't identify which one it was.
The man advanced slowly into our living room. He limped a bit on his right leg, just as my master had said, but he didn't seem to have a significant injury. I knew —due to my experience as a healer— that his discomfort was a reflection of a fracture that hadn't been properly treated and prevented him from moving with the desired freedom.
—I appreciate you receiving me, L'Asmodeus —that man said solemnly as he sat down—. I suppose your friend, Lieutenant Roldus, has already informed you of the situation that afflicts me. It was he who recommended me to come to you.
—I am aware —my master said with a smile—. Now, however, I would like to hear it from your own mouth. She is my pupil, Miss Abigail, as reliable as I am.
The man greeted me by lowering his head politely. He glanced briefly around the room and then closed his eyes as if in meditation. He seemed like a man of strong character, but I could perceive in him a state of agitation that transpired through the tension in his hands, legs, and mouth. I imagined that he was the type of person who refused to ask for help even when at the mercy of an emergency, as he considered his pride more important than any consequence. That meant that the problem afflicting him was surpassing his temper and had reached the horrid point where he needed to seek help despite his strong convictions.