Chapter 4:
Dangerous and Delicate
Home of Kyle Ricci, City of Aridel
The last hour before Kyle returns from his merchant duties stretches on painfully long for Marina Castaloni. She hates being confined to the tiny house, but she had promised to stay in while he worked.
At night, they shared adventures like sneaking out of the city to gather herbs or exploring the quiet places within Aridel. The Arkonai had some strange notions, but Marina enjoyed learning about them. The huntsmen stationed in the city took regular shifts guarding the various gates between the rings and enforcing the curfew. Time in Bereft villages had introduced her to the idea of a curfew, but it still struck her as strange. In Caramore, the general rhythms of individual cities dictated who could go where safely and at what times of day or night. The Shadow Army spent most of its time training and dealing with dangers that arose in the Ashlands and the Badlands. It had no time to mind the comings and goings of the people.
Tonight’s adventure would be quite different. Throughout the past week, they had made discrete inquiries into those who had diseases or ailments the Healers could not—or would not—mend. Marina had spent the entire day preparing the tiny house to function as a clinic. The table had been moved into the main section, and the many dozens of scrolls and herbs had been sorted, categorized, and stored along the walls. They had only invited one person, but if tonight went well, they had plans for building a separate room on to the house.
With the work done, Marina has enough time to think, pray, and pace, a habit she picked up while studying at the Alamon Temple.
Lady of Light, bless the work we intend to do this night. May our efforts bring glory to the One. Help us. Help me. I … need to prove that Destroyers weren’t only meant for destruction. Our Gifts come from the One. They can bring about good.
A knock pulls Marina out of her thoughts. She stops pacing and stares at the door. A wave of nervousness washes through her. Three quick steps bring her to the door. She longs to swing it open wide and welcome the guest, but caution prevails.
“Who calls this night?” she inquires.
“One who seeks aid,” answers a female voice.
Satisfied, Marina opens the door and quickly ushers the lady inside. Taking the woman’s left elbow, she guides the guest over to the single chair and settles her upon it.
“Can I get you anything?” asks Marina, trying to keep her voice steady. There’s precious little she can offer the woman, except maybe a cup of water. Kyle brings fresh bread from the market each day, but he has not yet returned.
“Goodness, child. You sound more nervous than I am,” notes the woman. Serena Beri speaks in an unhurried manner that emphasizes the refined accent Marina has come to expect from the Arkonai. “I am fine, but while we have a moment, tell me what brings you to the Seventh Ring? This place has always attracted the hopeless.”
“My friend lives here,” says Marina. “We wish to provide some hope to those who have none.” Doubts assail her, prompting her to warn the lady. “But I know it can be dangerous and delicate work. We’ve never done this before. Are you sure you want us to attempt a cure for your ailment?”
“I may be blind, but I am rather fond of living,” says Serena. “I have been to countless Healers. They have no satisfactory answers for me. If you do nothing, I will likely pass beyond the Veil in a matter of weeks. So, you have already succeeded in your task of bringing hope.”
“But what if we hurt you?” The question slips out as Marina’s mind fills with reasons they should reconsider their whole plan. If they were in Caramore, a very thorough contract would be written, reviewed, and signed by both parties before such a transaction could take place.
“I doubt you could do much worse than I experience each day.” Serena speaks with little emotion.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that,” says Marina. A thought occurs to her. “May I ask how you came to lose your sight?”
“When this unknown disease came upon me, my vision grew blurrier each day until I opened my eyes to darkness,” says Serena.
Marina nods, but then realizes the woman can’t see the silent response.
“If it’s related to the disease, we might be able to reverse the effects,” she reasons, “but I don’t want to give you false hope.”
Kyle’s arrival lifts the somber mood settling upon them. He takes over the duties of preparing the woman for the treatment by serving her a sleeping draught. Before it kicks in, he helps her up onto the table, which has one of his blankets thrown on top.
While they wait for the woman to sleep, Marina has a quick meal. It takes a lot of effort to eat, but the night could stretch on very long. Kyle will be doing most of the work, but Marina’s mind must be sharp throughout the process so she can troubleshoot problems that arise.
At last, they are ready to begin. They stand on opposite sides of the table and stare at each other.
“Your move, Sparks,” says Kyle. “Tell me what to do.”
“When I spoke with her at length about the disease, she said it started on the right side of her stomach,” says Marina. “I guess that’s the best place to start.”
Kyle gives her an uncertain look.
“You want me to touch her there?” he asks.
Heat creeps up Marina’s neck and cheeks.
“Yes, touching her is going to be important for the work,” Marina answers dryly. She smiles sympathetically at the awkward position she’s placed her friend in. Steeped in formality and tradition, Saroth culture has much to say about proper interactions between men and women. Touching the stomach of a complete stranger falls into the taboo category, but Marina silently admits most of her ideas do much the same.
My presence as a guest in Kyle’s home isn’t exactly the definition of propriety.
“I probably should have had her change into a nightshift,” Marina muses.
“Do you have a spare one?” Kyle crosses his arms while he waits for her reply.
Marina looks from the woman on the table then back up at her friend, brow knit in concentration.
“What’s that look for?” demands Kyle. “I do not like that look.”
“Do you have any clean shirts?” Marina wonders. “None of my clothes will fit her, and we probably shouldn’t destroy the one outfit she owns.”
Kyle’s expression still reads dubious, but he digs through the box where he keeps spare clothes until he finds a large white shirt. The woman’s current attire consists of a filthy dress that has been patched many times and cloth wrappings over much of her arms and legs.
It takes Marina and Kyle several minutes to carefully unwind the rags. Dirt and dust come off the wrappings in clumps. As the first falls free, Marina gasps then almost chokes as her stomach twists at the sight. The upper portion of the woman’s left arm is covered in large red welts. A few bulge. One has even split open.
Tears sting Marina’s eyes.
“We have to help her.” She whispers the statement, but it booms throughout the quiet house. Her heart longs to find and destroy whatever has brought Serena so much suffering.
Without another word, Kyle and Marina work together to free the woman from her old clothes and pull the clean white shirt over her head and into place. Since none of his pants would fit the lady anyway, they drape another blanket over the lower half of her body. Sweating from the labor, they carefully lift the shirt up and fold it across Serena’s chest, exposing her stomach. A strange, red rash covers the bulk of the skin they can see along the right side of her body.
Marina wants to turn away or cover up the wounds and run, but too many people have done exactly that to this poor woman.
“Place your hands on the affected area, and tell me what you feel,” Marina instructs. A surge of doubt stabs her. Before committing to this current path, they held many discussions about the possibilities of contracting any of the diseases they mean to combat. Marina’s usual answer for such a question would be to turn to the books and scrolls on the topic.
But there are none because Destroyers have never applied their Gifts this way before.
Carefully, Kyle places both hands over the rash and closes his eyes.
“The skin is warm but not overly feverish. It’s an unnatural warmth though,” he reports.
“Do you sense anything wrong?” asks Marina. “A darkness. Something out of place.” Her theories hold that the root cause of certain physical ailments is spiritual. At the core, Destroyer Gifts have much to do with the spirit realms bleeding over into the natural world.
“I’m not sure what I’m feeling,” Kyle admits. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried to feel another’s spirit this way before.”
“Maybe a comparison will help,” says Marina. “Try reading me first. What do I feel like to you?” She holds both hands out to her friend, palms down.
Lifting his hands to meet hers, Kyle once again closes his eyes. His spirit touch is clumsy at first, like a blind man feeling his way through a room by swinging his arms from left to right.
Concentrating, Marina tries to relax and remove any mental obstacles Kyle might encounter.
For several seconds, they simply stand there, hands clasped above Serena’s prone form. Although she tries to keep her spirit open and passive, curiosity drives Marina to reach out and sense her friend. The impressions she receives remind her of freshly cut cedar wood, a crisp autumn evening, and rocky, snowcapped mountains. She lacks the time to thoroughly interpret the images, but she gathers that they represent his strength and bright sense of vitality. Part of Marina wishes to extend the current moment, but she knows Serena still needs their help. Reluctantly, she pulls back her hands.
Kyle returns his attention to Serena and takes up a similar pose to the one he struck earlier with both hands touching the rash upon her right side.
“She feels different, but that’s to be expected,” he says at last. “I can tell you’re healthier, but you’re also younger.”
“Let me try,” offers Marina. “I might not be able to access my Destroyer Gifts, but I felt your spirit. I can probably sense hers as well.”
They switch places.
As soon as her hands touch the woman’s side, Marina feels the faint unnatural warmth Kyle mentioned.
Holy Father, let me find what I seek.
Following a feeling, Marina stretches out with her spirit and moves her attention slowly over the woman’s entire body. The unaffected parts of Serena feel like soft white light. The parts that are swollen with disease feel like various colors ranging from black to deep red. Lifting her hands off Serena’s stomach, Marina describes the impressions to Kyle.
Gesturing for one of his hands, Marina places it over one of the darkest spiritual spots.
“There’s nothing there,” he protests. “The skin here is healthy.”
“On the outside,” Marina agrees, “but look within.”
He does so.
Marina carefully watches his expression rapidly morph from confusion to surprise to determination.
“Do you sense it?” asks Marina.
“I do,” he replies.
“That is our enemy. Destroy it.” The command flows out of Marina without any hesitation.
Over the course of several hours, they continue working together to identify each section. Eventually, they recognize that most of the areas that look normal harbor the tiny entities that don’t belong. After painstakingly isolating and destroying each, Kyle moves his attention to Serena’s eyes.
He finds nothing spiritually wrong.
Once again, Marina prays for wisdom.
Have we saved this woman only to leave her in darkness?
What is your request, dear one? The warm, compassionate male voice resonates in her heart and mind.
Please, restore the light to her eyes.
Your faith has made you strong. Do not fear to use the Gifts granted to you but understand that everything has a cost.
The words aren’t exactly comforting this time, but Marina weighs them and accepts them.
“Kyle, I need your help,” says Marina. Her voice sounds dry and hoarse. “What I intend to do requires great strength, more than I possess. I can draw the difference from you, if you are willing.” Quickly, Marina describes what she needs to do.
“I am willing,” says Kyle, holding out his right hand to her.
Without hesitation, Marina grips the hand with her left and places her other hand over Serena’s closed eyes. Then, she reaches for the magic within. Yellow light passes from her hand into the woman’s eyes. Marina feels power leave her and return several times. Each time, she feels weaker. It’s over in seconds, but by the end, her head pounds and her vision darkens.
She collapses forward.
Kyle barely catches her shoulders and eases her down across Serena’s chest.
Marina is dimly aware of Kyle moving around the table until he steps up beside her. Pulling her up off Serena, Kyle picks Marina up and moves her over to the bed.
“I think that’s enough healing for today, Sparks. Get some sleep.”
As she drifts off to sleep, Marina sees Kyle sink wearily onto the chair beside the bed.
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