Death of a Darklord

"Do not become distracted," Silvanus said softly. He was kneeling by her, shoulder almost touching hers. She hadn't felt him come up so close beside her.

"Keep your hold on the deep sensation, but remember why you are there. You are there to heal, not to simply sightsee."

Heat crept up her face. She had been playing inside the man's arm without healing him at all, simply enjoying the sensation. She glanced up at Fredric's face. His face was calm, but puzzled.

"I am sorry," she said.

"No, Elaine," Silvanus said. "Do not become distracted-not even by words or pity. Concentrate on the injury. Heal it."

"How?" Elaine started to turn to look at the elf. He touched her gently and turned her face back to the wound. "See only this. Feel only this."

She took a deep breath and did as she was told. She felt the bruising; it went all the way down to the bone. A breaking of blood vessels, a near crushing of flesh. She wanted to heal the broken blood vessels, to smooth the flesh inside as well as out. She drew her invisible fingers through the tissue, as if combing them through putty.

The broken flesh closed behind her touch, like a wall mending itself. Her fingers drew outward until Elaine could feel them resting on Fredric's arm. She stared down at the torn flesh.

Elaine drew her hand over the tears. She smoothed the outer skin, and it moved under her touch like clay. The flesh melting together, mending itself as she ran her fingers and thumb over the wound. She ended by holding his forearm between her hands and smoothing her palms down his arm, as if working in lotion.

She lay his arm in her lap and looked at it, turning it from side to side. But Elaine didn't need her eyes to tell her it was healed. With that last smoothing motion, she had felt the flesh whole, of one piece, with no imperfections in it.

"It is done," she said. Her voice sounded a little surprised, even to her own ears.

Fredric lifted his arm before his face, turning it, staring. He ran his hand over where the bite mark had been. "There isn't even a scar. Silvanus, there's no scar."

The elf crawled forward and grabbed the arm. He ran his fingers over the healed flesh. "Bertog be praised. It is as if the skin were never broken."

"I knew a healer that could do that," Thordin said, "but he was a temple elder."

Silvanus looked up at the fighter. "I have known only two clerics that could do this." He traced fingers back and forth over the smooth flesh. "Are you experiencing any pain?"

Fredric raised his arm, flexing the hand. "It feels wonderful, almost better than new."

"My turn next," Randwulf said. He held out his wounded arms. He wasn't smiling when he said it, no teasing now. Elaine didn't know him well enough to read his expression, but it was solemn, perhaps impressed.

"How do you feel, Elaine?" Silvanus asked.

"Fine."

"Do you feel at all tired?"

She shook her head. "Mo."

"Not at all?" Silvanus asked. "Be sure you are not tired, Elaine. You have just done your first major healing. You must be careful to conserve your strength."

Elaine sat back and thought, how did she feel? She wasn't tired. In fact, she felt wonderful. Refreshed, alive.

"I'm not tired at all. I feel wonderful."

Silvanus stared at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction. "Don't feel you must be strong for others. If you are too tired to heal Randwulf, you could harm yourself."

"I feel fine."

"How could she be harmed?" Jonathan was standing just behind her, tall and forbidding, though he was asking after her safety. Even after last night, he was worried about her. Elaine reached out to touch his hand, to let him know his concern meant something to her. Jonathan jerked his hand away, as if her touch burned him.

Elaine let her hand fall back into her lap. She stared at his face. She would not look away, would not make this easy for him. Jonathan would not meet her gaze. He stared fixedly at the elf.

"If she is too tired and persists in trying to heal, she may tap into her own life-force. Elaine could use up her own life, spilling it away into Randwulf. She is new enough to healing that she does not know the signs. She could kill herself giving others life."

Jonathan finally did look at her. He stared into her face. He took a deep breath and touched her hair with his fingertips.

Elaine raised her hand slowly. He didn't move away. She touched his hand, and he returned the touch, squeezing the fingers gently. "I would not want anything to happen to you, Elaine."

"I feel fine, truly." She laid his hand against her cheek as she had as a child. He smiled, and she felt better than she had in hours.

"Then heal him, but be careful." He patted her cheek and pulled his hand gently from her own.

Elaine turned back to Randwulf. "Do I heal him just the same?"

"Yes," Silvanus said, "it is nearly the same type of wound. You can either heal one wrist at a time or both together."

"How do I heal them both?"

Silvanus smiled; it held almost bitterness. "You are eager, child, aren't you?"

"It feels. . wonderful."

Silvanus touched her face, looking into her eyes as if they would give away secrets. "Are you saying it feels good to heal?"

"Yes." There was an expression on his face that made her say, "Don't you feel that way when you heal?"

"No, Elaine," he said, softly, "I do not."

"Is that bad?"

"Not at all. It is merely rare."

"How rare?" Jonathan asked.

"Rare enough that I've read of such things but never known of anyone who could do it," Silvanus said.

"I don't understand," Elaine said. "Why should the fact that I feel better after healing Fredric's wound be so unusual?"

"In a battle situation, you could heal many more people than I. I would grow tired and begin to draw on my own life-force. If you are doing what I believe you are doing, you will never grow tired. You will always be able to heal, over and over again. It is a great, great gift."

"Enough talk about magical theories," Randwulf said, "I'm tired of these wounds." He held his arms out to her once more.

"Randwulf, you are being impertinent," Silvanus said.

The young man smiled, then winked at Elaine. "If you all quit talking, this beautiful woman will lay her sweet hands on my bare flesh. Sorry if I'm impatient."

Elaine stared into his smirking face. She didn't like Randwulf, but she wanted to touch the wounds. The injuries were what was important. It didn't matter whom she was healing.

"Apologize immediately," Averil said. She sounded outraged.

"No," Elaine said, "it's all right." She should have been embarrassed but wasn't. She wanted to heal, not just Randwulf, but any ruined flesh, touching it and making it whole. Her hands itched with desire.

Elaine ran her fingers over Randwulf's wrists. The flesh was punctured, but not torn as badly as Fredric's arm. The wolves had simply bitten down, held him so the death blow could be dealt.

She clutched one of his wrists in either of her hands. Randwulf brought his arms up, putting the backs of her hands in a position to be kissed. Elaine plunged fingernails into the open bite wounds. Randwulf drew back with a hiss. Elaine's invisible fingers plunged into his flesh, tickling along his bones. It was almost disappointingly easy to heal. She drew out the bruising, and her hands sat on his skin. She squeezed down until Randwulf gasped, then pulled downward smoothing the teeth marks in one hard movement.

Randwulf drew his arms to his chest, grimacing. "Silvanus never hurt me like this."

"You never tried to kiss my hand," Silvanus said.

"I promise not to tease her anymore. Just don't be as rough with the wound on my neck." He touched it lightly as he spoke. "It hurts already."

"If you behave yourself, I promise not to hurt you on purpose," Elaine said.