Artemis rides right up to an injured Sir Kahlin. He's slumped over, laying up against a tree. There's blood smeared all over the bark. He hardly even see ms to notice me or the Moonlit Maiden. Artemis' heavy hooves seemed to at least make him jostle a bit once we got close enough, thank the hells. His hand grips tightly on his stomach, his glove is a bitter dark red, like the type of wine Sir Kahlin would drink whenever the good-natured nobles would visit the stables. From there, as the distance from the wound spreads, the color lightens. Turning into a fine pale red splatter surrounding him by about 3 feet. Miss Moon Maiden hops off my horse... pegasus?
I'm not entirely sure, but it seems like a really bad time to ask.
Well I've had to tend to all types of wounds before and the Moon Maiden has me do the grunt work. Figures.
I'm all talk though, I'm really fucking scared to see my mentor like this.
I shake off the thought, no this is Sir Kahlin, we're talking about, the Hero of Lambridge Pass. He can't die here, from something like this.
I kick it into gear. I lay Sir Kahlin down flat and quickly remove the bloodstained clothes replacing them with clean bandages provided to me by MM. I prop his knees up onto my legs and apply pressure around the wound. He's sweating profusely and getting paler by the minute.
I whine, "How is this possible? The wound looked tiny."
MM mutters something about a curse. She looks annoyed but confident. I have a strange trust in her. I'd say it's due to a large trust building exercise, saving my life, and then a large trust eviscerating exercise, dragging me along the forest floor.
Sir Kahlin wakes gasping and muttering. He reaches out to me and grabs my arm. I lecture him, "Hey! Don't move, relax, please." His eyes are clouded over. Like some strange mist came to live in his dormant pupils. He blinks a few times, seeming to be unable to tell where he is. Sir Kahlin begins to weakly speak, "P-please don't leave. We ca-can't trust him." I don't understand what he's saying at all. Sir Kahlin continues, "Please. I can't d-d-do it alone. W-we should just r-run away, Lucille." I can only offer him comfort. I say, "Don't worry Sir Kahlin, you're going to be ok, everything's going to be ok." It actually seems to work, he closes his eyes and let's out a deep sigh of relief, before passing out.
I nervously glance over to MM. She's entranced in her casting, this time it's muttering the same phrase over and over.
"Oh great Altuor, undo this curse beseech thee gifts, reward thine purse"
With each repetition, she places another platinum coin at the feet of Sir Kahlin. A platinum coin is difficult for me to even fathom, but it would be enough to buy the entire stable I worked at, horses included.
The moment she sets the 10th down, they all whisk away into a glittering, shimmering light. Her left eye twitches, a tight thin smile forms on her face. Strangely enough, her eyes remain completely unsmiling. She turns to me, "I think it's time for your first magic lesson." She closes her eyes, tilts her head, and gives me the fakest smile I've ever seen. How incredibly bewildering. She turns back to Sir Kahlin and without a trace of emotion, "He'll be fine. It was pretty much the curse that was killing him... I mean the stomach wound is pretty bad too... but look." She points to his face, "He's getting some color back already." Several moments of silence pass by. Frustrated with me she complains, "Uurgh, look kid, do you know how many people would kill to be taught anything by me?"
I stare blankly.
She rages, "There's no fucking way you like this traitor more than you like me." It hits her. "Oh my hells, you really do. You must be an uneducated fool." She takes a deep, deep sigh. "No, no. It's ok. This was my calling." She smiles at me again, this time, it's at least 5% real. She lectures, "Like I said, let's call this your first magic lesson. Now, I'm no fool, in a normal circumstance, if there's two medics around and an injured person, they should both be helping, if they can. But this is certainly no normal circumstance. You see the thing is, I can even revive a human killed by a natural cause. Bleeding out is very natural. Death by curse, eh, apparently not so much."
She puts a new smile on. It's trying to give reassurance. But I read it more as, "Do as I say or I'll kill you both and revive you on my leisure."
Keeping a hand on Sir Kahlin's wound, I'm able to apply just enough pressure to keep him alive. Awkwardly, with my right hand, I try to follow MM's instructions, but it's clear as day that I'm no savant. My knuckles bend when they should stay straight, my fingers struggle to find the innate magical rhythm as MM so graciously describes it. Finally after making enough of a fool of myself, it's time to practice my speech. The true determinant of any powerful wizard.
She goes on and on about the history of language, semantics, and different grammar rules, but all I can get from it is that the wizard that sounds the most mysterious and cool typically has the most powerful spell.
After all, if you don't believe in your magic, who the fuck will?
I close my eyes and let the words flow from my soul.
"Mend and sew, hem and hue Tie the fabric of the few We gather in part, to hold the flame We must reassemble the forgotten name"
The hole in Sir Kahlin's gut closes.
MM can't help but start to laugh and cheer, she jumps around happily flailing her arms and clapping her feet together, "Wow, oh wow. You really did it. And what was the chant. Never in the world have I heard verses that worked sound like that."
My throat feels like it's covered with sand. I try to swallow but my spit catches my throat like a mouse in a trap, it wriggles and thrashes, chocking me. I vomit profusely. Thick black goo spills all over the ground.