“Pleased to meet you, although we both must wish it were under different circumstances. I am Lady Annalise Ateala, and I serve as healer for this town and anyone who needs my help,” she said with a small curtsy back. She looked over at Toman.
“My patient seems to be doing well. It’s tough to say for sure, but he should recover,” she said. Esset heaved a sigh of relief as he watched her lay a hand on Toman’s forehead to check his temperature.
“Excuse my surprise, but a Lady as a healer? That seems somewhat unusual,” Esset said, hoping he wouldn’t offend.
“There is nothing to excuse. My family reacted much worse to my disclosure, which is why I relieved them of my presence and moved here. Being a healer is my calling, no matter my birth, and my inheritance is my own, so I do with it as I see fit. This way, no one sees my family’s ‘embarrassment,’ and I do not have to put up with their disapproving looks and remarks,” she explained, moving about the room and getting another vial from the cabinet. Meanwhile, Esset chuckled at her comments.
“Well, their loss is our gain,” he commented, already liking her and admiring her spirit.
“Indeed,” Lady Ateala responded, flashing him a quick smile. “Now, Reshkin venom is a very potent and complex substance. It will take a long time to purge it from his system, so I will be needing to administer the anti-venom twice a day until he stabilizes, and once a day for a while after that. He will seem to get better and worse in waves for quite some time, but if everything goes well he will hopefully be right as rain in no time.”
“That is great news, you have no idea,” Esset replied, about as grateful as he could get. Lady Ateala just glanced at him and graced him with another one of those smiles. She filled a syringe with that pale liquid again and walked over to Toman’s side.
“Okay, he shouldn’t react so badly as last night, but he will react. Be ready to still him if necessary, please,” she requested, taking Toman’s arm to give him the injection. As predicted, he moaned and tried to roll a little bit, but Esset held him in place. It didn’t take him long to move back into a restless, fevered sleep. Esset and Lady Ateala kept a close eye on him until he did so, and Esset let him go after he shifted into the somewhat calmer state.
“There we are. He may or may not wake up later today. If he does, please call for my maid, Tiffany, and she will fetch some soup. It’s important that he eat something, and there’s a bed pan under the dust ruffle. I doubt he’ll be awake much longer than it will take for that. If you need anything else, call for me or my maid, as needed,” Lady Ateala explained.
“Ah, Lady Ateala?” Esset forestalled her as she was about to turn. She paused to listen.
“What will we—do we—owe you?” She seemed to have enough money, after all, although money really wouldn’t be an object, not after they got paid for this job for the Nadra. Lady Ateala smiled graciously.
“For now, nothing. Within the village, I trade my skills for the supplies and foods that I need day-to-day. For others, I ask only small favors or what can be afforded, if I ask for anything at all. Don’t worry about it, we can figure it out later,” she assured him. Esset smiled back.
“Thank you,” he said. “Just let me know—anything at all you need, it’s yours.” Lady Ateala simply acknowledged his statement and his gratitude with another of her gracious smiles and a small nod before leaving the room.
A little while later, the maid brought Esset some food and showed him where the privy was located. Beyond that small excursion, however, Esset had no intention of leaving his brother’s bedside. He was briefly forced to do so, however, when a “guest” came calling.
“Ah, sir?” chirped the maid at the door. Esset looked over at her and she continued quickly. “There is someone at the door for you.” Then she abruptly fled. Esset blinked, glanced at Toman, and then headed out towards the front entrance. As it turned out, the guest was a Nadra—apparently the maid was afraid of the members of their race. She probably had to notify Lady Ateala too, but Esset was fairly certain it was more than that.
“Nassata!” Esset exclaimed upon seeing her familiar teal figure. He was very surprised to see her—she’d fought the whole day previous, after all, and must have traveled all night to make it to the town this early. A second, closer look did reveal her exhaustion; many of the signs that betrayed fatigue in humans were different, but at the very least, Nassata was leaning on her spear. Knowing that news of Toman would be of foremost importance, Esset didn’t both waiting for a question.
“Toman’s not doing great, but he’s still alive, and the healer thinks he has a chance, at least,” the young man reported, his own weary relief—and yes, still a bit of worry—showing through his demeanor.
“That is amazing news!” Nassata responded, looking very surprised indeed. Then she confessed, “I feared what state to find the two of you in.”
“I thank Bright Hyrishal he’s made it this far,” Esset said. He added in a firm tone, “He’s going to make it, and when he’s well, we’ll finish what we started. I’m sorry, but I can’t go back yet, I can’t leave him like this…” His tone lost its firmness at the end and turned apologetic.
“Do not worry about us. You won the war for us—the battles left we can handle, especially since the stone soldiers still fight. When he is well again, we would appreciate your return, if only to do a final sweep to try to ensure the war is fully won, but we can delay our victory celebrations until then.” Nassata appeared to mean her words, too, for which Esset was extremely grateful. He didn’t like breaking—or at least bending—their contract, but he couldn’t leave his brother in the state he was in.
“I came because I wanted to know what had transpired since your departure,” Nassata continued. “And I thought you might want a few of your things.” Only then did she flip her coils aside to lift the bags she’d brought with her. Sure enough, they were some of Toman and Esset’s things, including Toman’s well-worn, floppy-brimmed hat strapped to the top of a bag.
“Thank you, Nassata,” Esset said sincerely, genuinely overcome with the unnecessary gesture from the warrior. On an impulse, he stepped forward and hugged the snake-lady. She reflexively returned the gesture. Esset was a little embarrassed when he pulled away a few moments later, but appreciative as well. The fleeting thought that maybe the Nadra were onto something with their tactile culture flicked irrelevantly through his mind.
“I can’t believe you came,” Esset confessed, feeling uncharacteristically emotional. “You must be exhausted, maybe I can see if the lady will let you—”
“Don’t worry,” Nassata forestalled him. “I did not come alone. I have another three warriors with me, and we will make camp outside town. We know some of the people here fear us, and we don’t want to make anyone unnecessarily uncomfortable.”
“Are you sure?” Esset asked. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being turned away, and after the gesture he’d just received, that felt especially wrong.
“Thank you, Esset, we’ll be just fine,” Nassata replied with a smile. “Just worry about your brother—we will be well. I will come by early tomorrow to check in and see how things have progressed. I am glad Toman is still alive. Keep well.”
“I’ll give you an update when you come by again,” Esset promised.
Nassata left, and Esset went back to the room again to keep watch over Toman. Another meal passed, and Esset kept an eye on Toman while trying to not let his own mind run away. To distract himself, he took out his summoner’s tome and began flipping through. He read for a few hours, having the niggling feeling that there was something new there, but the new summon wasn’t quite sticking in his mind. He glanced over at his brother, and he thought he saw Toman’s eyelids move. He set his book aside in order to watch his brother’s face, and a moment later Toman’s eyelids fluttered again.
“Toman!” Esset called his name quietly but urgently, leaning forward and giving his brother’s hand a squeeze.
“Come on, brother, w
ake up, just for a bit now,” he urged. Toman’s eyes opened partway, not able to compete with the light that was too bright against his tired eyes.
“Jonthn?” Toman mumbled.
“There we go, there you go,” Esset murmured. “You’re all right, you’re safe. We’re at a healer’s. How are you feeling?” Toman squeezed his eyes shut for a second and then opened them a little further than the last time.
“Not so great,” he groaned. Esset just nodded—that was to be expected.
“Do you think you can eat something? I’ll help,” the summoner asked.
“Mmm… maybe?” Toman hazarded. His voice was hoarse and raspy.
“Okay. Just wait one second, I’m going to call the maid to get you something,” Esset said. He vanished from Toman’s field of vision for a few moments before returning.
“She’ll be back soon, and we can get some food in you. Is there anything you need?” Esset asked, hovering over Toman’s bed. Toman shook his head slightly, then moved his hands on the mattress. The unfamiliar sensation of not having gloves on caught his attention and he lifted one hand enough to see the bare skin. He glanced a question at his brother.
“They’re safe,” Esset assured him. Then he averted his eyes. “Although that was one promise I never wanted to make good on.”
“Sorry,” Toman managed to reply hoarsely.
“Yeah, well, those bugs are going to be very sorry,” Esset responded, his tone heated. Toman smiled slightly, then felt too exhausted with the effort to continue. Esset shot him a worried look, even though he knew that total exhaustion was probably to be expected. He was about to say something, but the maid came in with a tray just then. Within seconds of finishing his soup, Toman was back asleep.
Later that evening, Lady Ateala returned again and gave Toman another injection of the antidote. Once again, Toman seemed to get worse immediately.
“Part of the cure for the Reshkin venom forces the body to start actively fighting the venom. Otherwise, it’s like the venom circumvents the immune system completely and kills the victim without being opposed at all,” Lady Ateala explained unbidden. Perhaps she noticed Esset’s obvious concern at his best friend’s state. Esset’s brown eyes flicked up to Lady Ateala, who was watching her patient carefully and did not return his gaze. “It only looks like he’s getting worse because his body is suddenly being forced to react violently against the venom after doing nothing.”
“Ah,” Esset responded. “I was wondering.” He hadn’t been suspicious of her or anything, just very worried, but she seemed to understand his unspoken concern.
“It is only natural,” Lady Ateala replied easily. Now she glanced at him. “If you don’t mind my inquiry, how again did he come to be bitten by one of the Reshkin? They are problematic to the Nadra, I know, but last I heard, the Nadra were not overly welcoming towards humans. There have been few humans admitted to their city at the best of times.”
“The Reshkin are the reason we were there,” Esset explained. “They had become a bigger problem than the Nadra could deal with alone, so they went looking for help. Long story short, they found my brother and me, and we’ve been helping them for the past week or so.”
“If you’ll beg my pardon, you don’t look much like soldiers,” the lady put in. That got Esset’s usual laugh.
“No, we don’t,” he agreed. “Our skills lie in magical areas rather than physical.” Lady Ateala nodded.
“That would have been my guess,” she responded. “What kinds of magics then? I could see you as a mage, but he,” she gestured at Toman, “does not look like one to strive for the more scholarly magical pursuits.”
“He’s not,” Esset acknowledged. “And although I am, neither of us is a conventional mage. I’m a summoner—some of the villagers saw one of my summons when I arrived.”
“So I heard,” Lady Ateala replied. “I’ve had to reassure many of our villagers that you weren’t a demon-caller, nor the victims of one. I’m glad I was correct, and it will be good to have solid information to put their fears to rest that no demons will come calling,” Lady Ateala said with a small nod. Esset rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.
“Yeah… a lot of people seem to make that assumption. Despite fire being symbolic for both good and evil, Brightfire and Darkfire, somehow it’s a widespread assumption that any fiery creature is from the underworld. But my summons are neither malevolent nor benevolent.”
“What of him then?” she asked next, pointing her chin at Toman. “You said you were both…unconventional.”
“Yeah, Toman’s an animator. He can make things that aren’t alive sort of come to life. It’s not true life, of course, but they can do almost anything he wants,” Esset explained with a shrug. “He can create things to animate, like a golem, or animate an existing object.” Lady Ateala’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“Fascinating,” Lady Ateala said. “I can see how you could be very helpful to the Nadra. Inborn magical abilities are always so interesting.”
“Any magical abilities are pretty fascinating,” Esset replied, really warming to the conversation as it looked like it was turning somewhat academic. “Magic itself is fascinating—everything else in this world is governed by hard and fast rules, but magic can defy pretty much any of them.”
“It does give those born with it something of an unfair advantage, however,” Lady Ateala remarked.
“Well, yes, but like anything else, it’s the luck of the draw. Someone born more intelligent or more athletic than those around him—or her—has an ‘unfair’ advantage as well,” Esset pointed out. “Luck has and always will be checked and balanced by other forces in the world.”
“Hm, yes, I suppose,” the lady conceded.
“And magic seems to have its own rules too, if we can only figure them out,” Esset mused.
“And then there’s magic that comes from sources other than inborn abilities—like artifacts,” Lady Ateala added.
“Oh yes! At the royal library back home, we have mage-lights that anyone can use. And of course there are magical weapons—staffs and swords. It fascinates me that people with absolutely no magical abilities can use them. It speaks to a pervasive force in our world—” Esset suddenly stopped himself with a sheepish expression. “Sorry, I just realized I was starting to go off on that. Toman always tells me no one’s interested in stuff like that.”
Lady Ateala smiled.
“Well, your brother would be wrong this time. I have always been interested in philosophy and the natural world, even beyond medicine.” She waved generally towards her medicine cabinets. Esset was delighted.
“I have a question for you then,” Esset said. “Since you mentioned them, are inborn abilities not fascinating too? Because it depends how you look at it—if you assume magic is the norm, then it’s remarkable that people without magic can use magical devices. But really, they’re just triggering a response in something that was created to give that response when triggered.”
Lady Ateala jumped in and completed the thought for him.
“But if you assume magic is not the norm, then inborn abilities are even more unusual, for how does anyone access this inexplicable power we call magic?” she said.
“Exactly!” Esset exclaimed. Then he cringed at how loud he’d been and peeked at Toman, but his brother didn’t stir.
“Exactly,” Esset repeated in a more reasonable tone, his cheeks slightly red.
“I’ve always thought that magic is part of life, the energy of life, so I’ve always thought it odder that some people can’t seem to access magic. And unfair. You say more intelligent people have a similar advantage, but what about those people whose magical abilities can set them up like gods? Yes, intelligence and hard work can go a long way, but can it compare to someone who could stop your heart with a thought?” Lady Ateala asked.
“You do have a point, but history shows that intelligence and hard work can make men—or women—that powerful. Akton the Cruel, for example.
He built an empire and a religion around himself, and he was just a man. Yes, he recruited those with magic, but he didn’t have any himself. All he had to do to kill someone was snap his fingers—someone else would do it for him. How is that any less of a power than having the magic himself?” Esset asked. “He learned to manipulate people to a level that could even look like magic when it wasn’t.”
Lady Ateala didn’t look convinced.
“And remember,” Esset continued. “Hard work is always necessary, even for those with magic. Even if someone has an inborn talent, they wouldn’t be able to stop someone’s heart with their magic unless they practiced and refined their skills first. Magic, intelligence, or any other inborn advantage still need to be practiced and nurtured.”
“But…” Lady Ateala paused to gather her thoughts before launching a counter-argument. “But think of, say, healers.” She waved a hand at her medicine cabinets again. “Imagine two scenarios. In one, a skilled healer, practiced in herbalism and surgery, comes across a man in the woods with a deep wound in his belly. In the second scenario, a young healer with raw, inborn healing talent comes across the same man. The inexperienced healer with magic will be able to save the dying man, but the other healer, without her tools, will not.”
Esset shook his head.
“But with preparation and her tools, she could. It’s analogous to the difference between Toman’s abilities and mine. I can react to a threat instantly by summoning something, but there’s a limit on the scope of my abilities. I can only summon so much. Toman needs preparation to react to a threat, time to create or seek things to animate. But given the time to prepare, his abilities, his power, far outstrip mine.”
Esset didn’t get the chance to see her reaction to his argument, for the maid poked her head in the door.
“Milady? You’re needed,” the maid said politely.
“Yes, of course,” Lady Ateala replied instantly. She smiled apologetically at Esset.
Calling On Fire (Book 1) Page 23
