The Legend of the Sixth Healer:Part Two

     At the fork that would lead her to the pond, her guiding speck of light flickered back to life and pointed hesitantly uphill towards a quarry. Delia followed, alert. The sun was declining. She could not afford to make a long detour.

      "No quests," snapped a voice further up.

      "I beg your pardon?"

      "I said, no quests!" A mane of orange hair burst from behind a crag. "You're too sick for that, anyway. No one could in good conscience send you on a quest. Go find a water faerie."

      "What if you could do better than a water faerie?"

      The fire faerie considered her words, hopped out and leapt from rock to rock, her every motion flickering like a flame. "Depends, little Kougra. Do you have the strength to face what ails you and fight it off?"

      Did she? Delia's whiskers pinched together as she suppressed a little snarl. She had struggled for so long. She met the faerie's glare and gave her a hard nod. "I won't stop until I can pick up my weapons and go back into the arena with my head high."

      "Then follow me. My magic can give you back your strength. Don't expect pleasant sparkles or songs."

      The fire faerie led her into her little cave near the quarry. Delia had the foresight to settle her Alabriss for the night.

      It was a terrible night. As soon as the fire faerie had cast her spell, Delia was consumed by a raging fever. Her nightmares took her back to the worst of her illness, to being paralysed and helpless while people bent to observe her and shifted her around. She woke up several times with piercing cries. Through this, the faerie checked her vitals, kept her comfortable and ensured she was safe.

      Morning came. Delia cried with relief. A great weight seemed to have been lifted from her. She spent an hour stretching and jogging around the cave, reveling in the control and coordination she felt once more.

      The fire faerie watched her attentively before allowing her to wander back into nature. She waved off Delia's thanks, concealing a proud smile. "Come back and do a quest for me some day."

      The sun shone in bright beams through the foliage as Delia walked deeper into the forest. She had to pull out her map to check where she was heading several times, so distracted was she. Her heart was so full of joy, of relief, of anger at what she'd endured, that she could have screamed about it for hours to whomever would listen.

      It had been too much to take in at once. She walked next to her Alabriss, too dizzy and distraught to ride. She was weeping into the large Petpet's mane when a rustling noise made her jump.

      "I'm sorry! I wasn't sure how to catch your attention," whispered a voice from within a thicket.

      Delia squinted into the shadows. She could barely make out a dark, green-winged silhouette, nervously clutching at her long braids.

      The new faerie seemed to brace herself and held out a long, deep umber arm. Vines laden with glowing berries sprouted before Delia's eyes. "I may have overheard what happened through the trees. Trees are so chatty, I'm sure you understand. To make up for my sister's brutal treatment, please accept this food. Healing is hard work! You cannot put yourself through all of this without proper sustenance."

      She ducked back into rustling branches and was gone in a blink.

      Delia plucked one berry and ate it. The juice filled her mouth in an explosion of flavours. Her eyes widened and she realised just how limp she'd felt. She scarfed down the rest without a thought.

      By the time she reached the pond, she was dragging her feet again and her stomach had started to feel heavy.

      The water faerie raised her sleek, hairless head, gasped and pressed a hand to her square jaw. "Poor child. What have they all done to you?" She snapped her fingers and beckoned imperiously, gesturing for Delia to settle in the water. The Kougra obeyed.

      Hours later, she was refreshed and invigorated. Delia set off next to her Alabriss. She trailed aimlessly towards the south, her shadow leaning to the east as if repelled by the presence of Altador city off to her right. She had felt in turn revitalised, energised, rejuvenated, soothed, renewed, restored and regenerated. Until she hadn't anymore. Soon, pain would stab at her side again, or inexplicably shoot up her legs, and she would seek another treatment, and accept it obediently again, whether it was a potion, a diet, a daily exercise or a spell. What difference would it make?

      The speck of guiding light from the light faerie's blessing reappeared in front of her eyes, pointing towards the city like the needle of a compass. Delia paid it no mind and walked on. Slowly, the tip of the arrow swung round until it was facing her. She walked against it.

      They were heading into a ravine between two crags. The Alabriss snorted and flicked her tail and ears nervously. Delia paused to soothe her a few times. They reached the pitch black opening of a cave and the light arrow died out. Against her control, Delia's silvery fur bristled. This was the final, tiny spot she'd marked on her map as an afterthought, the one she had been sure she wouldn't need.

      She took her time to tie up the Alabriss and stood outside the cave, shifting her weight from side to side.

      "Are you going to come in?" crooned a feathery voice near her ear.

      Delia stood her ground. "Can a darkness faerie's magic heal me, once and for all?"

      "What does it mean to be healed?"

      "A faerie told me that every element had its way of healing. I'll do a quest for you if you need. I used to be strong! I am a champion, there are many things I can do to repay you! I want to know how darkness heals. I have to try everything."

      A musty breeze blew from the cave like a sigh. "Hush. Sleep."

      "I will not give up!"

      "Come in. Sleep."

      From the depths of the cave, a lullaby poured out in silky waves. Darkness filled Delia's vision. Numbness wrapped around her limbs like wool. Silence grew in her mind until it erased every last thought.

      She awoke on a plain cot. It was dark, but her eyes adjusted enough to see the walls of the cave. It was reassuringly normal.

      She felt normal. Not exceptionally healed or invigorated. Not in any pain or discomfort. No fitter than usual. She felt the way she thought she should feel.

      Delia found water by her side, as well as the last of the packed food she'd brought with her. A presence flickered in the corner of her eye.

      "What did you do to me?" she croaked, her throat a little dry.

      "Nothing."

      "Nothing? At all?"

      "Nothing."

      Delia rose and stretched. "Then how am I healed?"

      "You are not."

      The Kougra's tail gave a twitch of annoyance. "I'm just feeling fine for no reason?"

      The presence shifted; Delia thought she could see the outline of the winged figure. "All I did was nudge you into a dreamless sleep. You have had time to rest and adjust. You have stopped and processed what happened to you before, including all my sisters' help. That is the only thing that changed."

      Delia ate in silence while she pondered. "Everyone says that darkness magic has a price."

      "All magic has a price."

      "But what will be the price for the magic you used on me?"

      "Nothing was erased. What you have lived will always stay within you, where no one else can see it." She thought the voice sounded softer, sadder now. "You will not forget your illness. You will remember the toll it took on you. The ghosts of your pain will awaken. The memories will creep in the shadows behind you. They will squeeze in the crevices of your day, when you are not paying attention. They will await in the space between wakefulness and sleep."

      Delia's bitter voice echoed around the chamber. "So I will never be fully healed. I knew that, but I didn't want to know it. I can stand it. I just can't go out to face people and the way they look at me anymore. Not without finding that strength again."

      The darkness faerie edged closer. Delia caught sight of a wan, wrinkled face, frail limbs and wings as wispy as Spyder silk. "When had you ever lost your strength?"

      Delia looked down, as if she'd glimpsed something too private. The darkness had grown comforting and sheltering. She ought to leave before she became too reluctant to move. Delia pivoted in search of the exit. In the back of the cave was an impenetrable wall of darkness, an abyss so vertiginous that she would never forget the sight of it.

      Outside, the sun was high in the sky. She could hear Beekadoodles chittering and Petpetpets buzzing.

      "It was dusk when I arrived," she said in stupor.

      "Was it?" the voice asked blandly from the cave.

      The warrior rode back to Altador, blessed sixfold. A fuss was made over her arrival, as she expected. She had to take things slower, to keep adjusting her home and habits. She had to pace herself more carefully than before.

      Sometimes, her thoughts would stray back to the pain, to all those who had failed to help her, to her own helplessness and resent. The well of darkness from that cave lurked beneath the surface of her memories, full of possibilities, relieving in its numb void. Delia kept her dark thoughts and painful memories to herself, sharing them only with Ione, whom she trusted to accept the worst parts.

      She was not the same. She would never be the same again, and she would not try to go back. She was strong. She would be remembered as she was.

The End.