by Ian Rodgers
“That doesn’t matter,” the blindfolded woman said, her voice a growl.
“One way or another I will be free. And when I am, I’ll find out who betrayed me and sold me into this wretched situation. And then, they will suffer.”
A dark aura suffused the air around her, and Dora leaned back in terror. This was going to be an ‘interesting’ trip.
Chapter 7: Broken tears
“Close wounds, soothe pain. Minor Heal,” Irene chanted. Beside her on a stool a young Dora stood, watching her mother’s spell.
A yellow glow surrounded her hands as they lay over the burned flesh of the local blacksmith’s apprentice. Slowly but surely the red, seared skin turned pale as the damage was undone.
“And that’s all for now. Be more careful when you try and handle metal that’s red hot,” Irene said. “Don’t forget to see Doctor Argus for the burn cream and bandages.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” the apprentice said, rubbing his arm gingerly.
“Aye, that idiot better learn quick. If only he was as clever as your own apprentice,” a large, bald and burly man snorted. The master blacksmith walked over to his student and shook his head in annoyance.
Little Dora blushed at the praise, looking down at the floor. Though the blacksmith apprentice rolled his eyes he stood up all the same.
“I like learning,” Dora said softly.
“I can see that! If you’re anything like your mother, you’ll be healing wounds in no time,” the blacksmith said cheerfully. “There need to be more people like you in the world.”
“There should be less, if you ask me,” the apprentice muttered under his breath. Irene’s smile became stiff and the blacksmith smacked the back of the teen’s head.
“Should be less of your lip, is what there should be,” the man growled.
“Now, now, Darr, there’s no need to have me treat him for another injury,” Irene said smoothly. The large man just grunted and grabbed his apprentice’s collar.
“Come on, let’s get back to the smithy. You can handle the stoking for now,” the larger man said gruffly as he escorted the younger man out of the Healer’s hut.
There was an unpleasant silence for a moment before Dora smiled in an effort to distract the two of them from it.
“That was so cool, mama! His injury was all ‘argh, it hurts!’ and then you were all ‘not today, pain!’” Dora said giddily, looking up at her mother in awe.
The young Healer smiled down at her. “Thank you, sweetie. And since that was our last patient of the day, why not help me sort the medicine.”
“Yeah!”
Dora bustled around the operating room with her mother, carrying vials and bottles and assorted medicinal items.
Calling it an operation room was a bit of a misnomer. It was simply a room in the small hut that served as the medical practice for the town of Far Reach. With a simple bed in the middle of the room, the only other furniture was set of desks and drawers that stored an assortment of medicine and implements used for examination.
Austere and plain, the only other color besides the pills and potions was a large gold colored dove mounted on the wall over the bed.
“So, mama, how many spells do you know?”
“Why do you ask, my mint leaf?” Irene asked.
“I wanna know how many I need to learn to be as good as you!” Dora said happily.
“Well, if you must know, I can use about nineteen healing spells. Fifteen is the minimum requirement for an aspiring Healer to know.”
“Wow, nineteen!” Dora exclaimed. “What’s the best one you know?”
“Well, I’m proud to say that I can perfectly cast the Level Six spell Mend Serious Wound. With it, even deep lacerations and organ damage can be healed,” Irene said, thinking it over for a moment.
“So, what’s the most powerful healing spell out there?” Dora asked, tilting her head.
“I suppose that would be the Level Ten spell Restore,” Irene mused. “It’s the pinnacle of the Healing spells.”
“What does it do? What makes it so powerful?”
“It can undo and heal all kinds of damage,” the Healer explained. “Some say it’s so strong, it can rewind time itself, returning the body to the picture of health before the injury happened. That’s what makes it the highest ranked spell.”
“But, very few people can use the spell. Most don’t have the magical power or the capacity to cast it.”
“One day, I’ll use it!!” Dora asserted. “I’ll be the best Healer in the world!”
“Hah! That’ll be the day.”
“Argus,” Irene said with annoyance, turning to the door. “You’re late. The patient already left.”
“It was just a burn. It didn’t need my expertise.” A middle-aged man with scraggly stubble and messy hair clomped inside the room.
Dora wrinkled her nose at the smell of alcohol on the doctor’s breath and moved to stand behind her mother. The town doctor narrowed his eyes at the young half-orc child but decided to ignore her.
“Besides, these yokels wouldn’t know good health practices if it stabbed them in the stomach. I don’t know why you work so hard for them.”
“I took an oath to help and protect. And I’ll do just that,” Irene retorted.
Argus shook his head in dismay at the woman’s kindness. “Sometimes I just don’t understand you.”
“I don’t understand how you can be drinking in the afternoon,” Irene shot back. Dora let out a giggle.
“Look, you can shower that thing you call a daughter will all the love you want, but it will never be accepted,” Argus snarled, glaring at Dora who let out a whimper. “You’re just lucky that we’re this far out on the borders, or it would be dead.”
What happened next was a shock. Dora could only stare slack jawed as her mother, the kindest, happiest woman in the world, lashed out with a brutal kick at the doctor’s groin.
Argus collapsed with a gasp of pain as the Healer towered over him in her rage.
“One more word and I’ll do much worse to you,” Irene hissed.
“But, your oath…”
“Does not prevent me from doing some ‘amputation’ if the wound is too far gone to be healed,” the honey blonde woman spat. “And if you ever threaten my daughter again like that I might uncover a very rotten, septic wound that needs removal. One that is near your waist, perhaps.”
She took Dora’s hand and led her out of the building, leaving the doctor to writhe in pain on the ground.
The young girl looked back, only to recoil from the hatred in the man’s eyes as he watched them leave.
.
“You look tired,” Rindel said, giving Dora an appraising look as she walked towards the tiny cook, her slave in tow.
“She tosses and turns when she sleeps. It’s distracting,” Kari replied.
“Well, hopefully this wakes you up,” the gnome said, passing the half-orc her customary morning cup of mint tea.
“Ahhh, that definitely helps,” Dora sighed with joy. Kari declined her own mug, preferring water over ‘smelly herb water.’
The young Healer was starting to reconsider trying to befriend this woman. She wasn’t sure she could ever forgive anyone who badmouthed her favorite beverage.
“So, can you tell me what the plan is? And where we’re actually going?” Dora asked of the Quartermaster once the morning rush was done.
“The first step is to head south a bit towards the Lake of Tears,” Rindel said, passing out bowls of oatmeal gruel to his audience. “It’s a major oasis and stopping point, and has a shanty town of sorts for supplies. We’ll just be there for a bit before heading towards the center of the Dreadlands.”
Rindel sighed heavily, looking from Dora to Kari then to his food.
“Our final destination lies near the exact center of Suld. Just a few days from both the Cracked Land, Golden Desert of Saluda, and the Sprawling Jungle stands the wretched City of Slaves, Annod Bol.”
The gn
ome barely suppressed a shiver that ran down his spine. Dora looked confused, while Kari went pale and let out a whimper.
“It’s the first, last, and only true city in the Cracked Land, and is run by a collection of six powerful slave traders,” Rindel explained. “It is said that every slave passes through its gate at one point or another in the Dreadlands.”
“And judging by how Scarrot was acting, our client who wants Kari and the golden mole is someone from one of those six clans,” Dora said, immediately connecting the dots. Rindel nodded gravely.
“Indeed. Dominik Krave, Lord of the West Tower. One of the most powerful men in the region. Anyone who wants to do business in the Cracked Land serves under one of the lords of Annod Bol. They pay tribute, and they’re allowed to sell their ware unmolested.”
Before she could muse anymore Kari grabbed her arm, paralyzing the half-orc with the amount of fear she was displaying.
“Please, release me,” Kari begged, clutching onto Dora. “I’ll do anything you want, pay any price! Just don’t take me to that place!”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” Dora said miserably, looking away.
Instead of protesting or throwing a tantrum, the woman with two Bloodline Traits fell eerily silent. Her posture slumped, and her regal aura faded away.
She had given up.
“I understand,” she mumbled softly. For the rest of the day Kari was quiet and followed Dora obediently.
It was only when night came and the caravan came to stop for the evening that Kari uttered another word to her handler.
“I forgive you.”
“What?” Dora demanded, whirling around to face the raven-haired woman.
“I said, I forgive you. I know what it’s like to be afraid and helpless to do anything. I don’t blame you for this. Just remember that.”
Kari did not say another word, choosing to curl up on her cot and try to get some sleep.
Dora’s own slumber was plagued by nightmares once more.
.
Before them was a vast, sprawling mass of dark blue water. Dora had never seen a lake before. There had been a duck pond near her hometown of Far Reach but that was all her experience with bodies of water.
This one, however, was huge. A mass of liquid whose furthest banks stretched far off into the distance, invisible with the naked eye.
“You call that a lake?” Dora demanded incredulously. She leaned over to Kari and described the vista to her. The dark-haired woman whistled in approval.
“Technically, it’s more of an inland sea,” Rindel confessed, rubbing the back of his head.
In the shallow edges near the rocky pseudo-beach reeds and seaweed seemed to bloom, giving the ‘lake’ a ring of green and brown.
“The Lake of Tears is a salt water body, hence the ‘tears’ part of the name. And since it’s totally landlocked, ‘lake’ was deemed appropriate enough,” the gnome Quartermaster continued.
“But wait, if it is all salt water, how do people use it for drinking?” Dora asked.
“Annod Bol has some ancient magical technology hidden inside it that can purify and distill the lake’s salt water, making it potable. Its rulers import large wagon trains full of barrels each week to meet the city’s needs,” Holt explained as he rode over.
“For the rest of us plebeians though we have to boil the water to use it and get the salt out,” Holt stated. “But we have a competent master of supplies with us, so we don’t need to fill up on that much water.”
“Indeed, since we’re this close to the lake we can just fill up the empty barrels using Summon Water instead of needing to use lots of fire or boiling rods,” Rindel said happily.
“Will we be staying long?” Dora asked.
“Just for the night,” Holt replied.
The half-orc maiden sighed but nodded. The caravan moved on, approaching a large strip of land near the shore of the lake that already had a number of tents and shoddily constructed dwellings. A tiny dock seemed to have been built there as well, and a few boats could be seen out on the waves.
“Ooh, fish! Can we get some for dinner, Rindel? Please?” Dora asked, turning to the gnome and batting her eyelids. He just laughed.
“Why not. Been a while since we’ve had good, fresh meat. I think Scarrot will let us splurge a bit.”
“About time. I don’t think I could eat another loaf of that nasty bread, or boiled oatmeal gruel, or salted beef stew,” Kari muttered. Dora rapped her on the shoulder in chastisement.
“Be nice! It’s not his fault traveling rations are horrible! If anything, Rindel works miracles with what he has!”
“Stop, please, you’ll make me blush,” the noseless Quartermaster chuckled.
Dora looked over the surface of the lake, licking her lips at the thought of real food after so long. Her dreams of fish were interrupted by a large tail popping out of the water near the docks, revealing a humanoid with pale blue skin and dark green hair that had the lower half of a fish.
The aquatic being was handing a net full of clams over to a few people on the dock who then handed over some goods in exchange.
“Merfolk?” Dora asked, surprised.
“Oh yeah, there’s a small colony somewhere in the depths of the Lake of Tears,” Rindel said, unsurprised. “Supposedly they are the descendants of merfolk slaves who managed to escape long ago but not make it to the ocean.”
“Oh. That’s kind of sad, you know? Thinking that they’ll never be able to return home,” Dora said sorrowfully.
“Well, there’s also the theory that the Lake of Tears is connected to the Great Southern Ocean by a series of underground canals and tunnels,” Rindel went on. “There’s a large number of cavern systems near the Sprawling Jungle that go pretty deep and far, so either option is possible.”
“How do you know all this trivia?” Kari asked the gnome.
“When I was younger, I was part of a cartographer’s group sent to record parts of the Dreadlands,” Rindel said, eyes misting over with memory.
“It was a group of researchers who wanted to explore the unique territory to be found here. I was appointed the Quartermaster for the expedition as well, while also being the junior most of the cartographers. Even then I was a bookworm, eager to learn.”
“What happened?” Dora asked.
“Bandits,” Rindel said with a scowl. “You always hear about how harsh and dangerous the Dreadlands are, but until you actually get here you think the warnings are exaggerations. Within a week we had run out of water and been attacked by monsters thrice. And then the slavers struck, capturing those of us left.”
“How did you get away?” Kari inquired, leaning in.
“When our kidnappers came to Creidor to restock and sell a few of us off, the Yellowmoon Menagerie was there as well,” the gnome replied, closing his eyes. “And when I saw Scarrot, I called out to him.”
“‘If you buy me and my companions, I will become your personal slave if you let the others go.’ That was what I shouted at him as he was browsing the cages. I caught his attention, and he did as I asked. However, he told me that if I wanted to free my companions, I had to work to buy them myself.”
“I worked and worked, toiled and slaved. I cooked, cleaned, fixed and tended to the wounded. I was a one-man army. But I finally did it. I bought the freedom of my compatriots.”
“Why are you here, then? Are you still enslaved by the leader of this group?” Kari demanded.
“Because for all his faults, the boss has a kind of charisma about him. It makes people want to hide behind him for protection, and he in turn has a need to protect those he considers family. And that’s what I am. Me, Reesh, Uldo and Holt are all his family. Even you, Dora, are seen as such, even if he acts like he does not care,” Rindel said softly.
No one spoke any further as the caravan set up camp near the village of tents. Dora stayed closer to Kari, worried that Rindel’s words may have stoked a spark in her heart, convincing her to try and escape once mo
re.
Seeing little else to do Dora led Kari over to one of the animal cages. With a wet snuffle the golden mole perked up, twisting to look at the two women.
“Hey there, boy, how ya doing?” Dora said, rubbing the top of its head. It gave a sound of contentment that sounded like a dog trying to purr.
“Such lovely fur,” Kari praised, enjoying the silky feel of the beast on her palms.
“I know, right? It’s surprising how soft and well-kept it is. Must be because it has to burrow through soil so its fur repels dirt and such,” Dora agreed.
The giant mole preened at the women’s comments.
“Hard to believe it bonded so fast with me,” Dora noted, grabbing some rancid meat to offer as a snack.
“Maybe it was saved by someone who smelled like you in the past. Another orc or Healer, perhaps,” Kari suggested.
“Perhaps. Probably the Healer bit if that’s the case, though. I’m just a half-orc, and the poor dear is terrified of the boss.”
“Fair enough.” The two were silent for a while, the only sounds being the noisy chewing coming from the golden mole.
“Could you let me take a look at the beast? I want to Appraise it,” the raven-haired beauty requested.
“What would that let you see?”
“Well, my eyes would let me tell its age and such, but also might give me a reason why it’s so attracted to you. Don’t tell me you’re not interested.”
Dora bit her lip. The collared woman was right, she did want to know. The Healer gently lifted the edge of the blindfold and let Kari take a peek at the big gold furred mole creature.
After a moment, Kari nodded and Dora lowered the dark red cloth over her eyes once more.
“Did you know that golden moles can smell magic?” Kari asked, patting the mole on the head.
Dora shook her head at that odd start to the conversation. “No, I didn’t.”
“Well, they can. It seems that their nose is sensitive enough to actually detect magic as well as other scents. It is how they see, since this one appears to be mostly blind,” Kari explained.
“Based on what my Divine Eyes could tell, apparently you smell like the being who rescued it from poachers. Apparently, your magic, and by extension your soul, carry a similar scent. Fascinating.”
