[PAST] MENDING FRACTURED SOULS

I fear the day that comes to fruition. Not everyone possesses the aptitude to be a true healer – more less-skilled hands could very well make more work. Rhosyn replied, his tone remained light and airy, it lacked any semblance of malice or distain painting the visage it was simply his own musings. Als, if those hands were skilled, it would make triage and addressing life-threatening injuries infinitely less nerve wracking.

As the countdown began, Rhosyn’s expression cemented itself into stoicism, refusing to betray the fact he wholeheartedly doubted there would ever be a “three” uttered aloud. It was a trick that most passed onto their protégé, it provided a false sense of security and prevented the individual from tightening their muscles or resisting the efforts. Not that Rhosyn could fault them, it was a natural-born instinct to guard oneself from pain.

His expression visibly tightened at the pained yelp but relaxed as he’d registered the faintly audible click, it was accompanied by the rapid waning of his shrill cry and protest. Thank you Mi’Lady. Rhosyn replied to the proffered kindness and commendations. His gaze momentarily lingered upon her hands as they’d settled upon the injured man’s shoulder as she’d wove her craft and imbibed the man with the inoculating healing energies.

My name is Rhosyn, my father and I were part of the last way of migrators. Rhosyn confessed as he’d let the last wisps of magic cease spilling from his fingers, inspecting the margins of the injury, pleased to see the skin was no longer warm to the touch nor did it produce that sickly odor. Rhosyn’s attention turned a pile of cloth that had been set side. Rhosyn would take the man’s uninjured hand and do his baseline measurements and initial knot tying before he guided the man’s arm into the desired position.

Quite so – whatever infection he had was quite deep rooted, it took far more out of me than I anticipated. Rhosyn confessed, knowing the severity of an injury typically rapidly scaled up the associated draw upon their mental resources. How many times had he been left in a fugue after a particularly challenging hunt or an ambush. His body was willing to press on but his mind reached its’ limits and if he tried to push on, it felt akin to a searing piece of metal imbedded itself into his skull.

Do you think, this place will become a sanctuary for our kind – or is it just a temporary reprieve? Rhosyn probed, the years of existing as a nomadic entity, uprooting oneself as the first sight of trouble or bad tidings. It wore upon one’s soul.

@ Megara