Two Worlds: Clash of the Guardians (Completed)

XXIII - The Blind Witch

“Please deposit ten Lucratz to begin the healing,” said Samsonian. Her voice chimed like bells.

With shaky hands, the monster put the coins in a guinea pig box. The box looked like it could take the weight no more, and glittering coins flown out of it. A greedy expression hung over Bibyon’s face. Elli wondered whether the plump witch would like to eat the Meer-Bee or the guinea pig box, or both.

Samsonian placed her hands on the monster’s forehead and declared that it could bear no offspring. The monster nodded in affirmation and broke into a sharp cry. Samsonian comforted it before muttering an incantation. Seconds later, she informed the monster that it would conceive once it had united with its spouse. Jubilance lit up the Meer-Bee's face, but the smile was soon replaced by a horrid look as Samsonian pressed her fingers on its cheeks.

With a sound like sipping a spoonful of soup, the blind witch extracted an amber line of fog from the Meer-Bee's mouth. The fog seeped into the slits of Samsonian's mouth, and she looked rejuvenated. The Meer-Bee wriggled and fainted on the table. Two mummy helpers dashed out of darkness with a stretcher. They laid the Meer-Bee on it and sped to the emergency room.

“She will be fine by tomorrow. Next!” Samsonian called after the waiting patients.

“Why did she do that?” asked Elli.

“The blind witch, apart from asking payment in monetary term, also demands for a year of life in return. Every time she heals a patient, she'll become older and her skin will wrinkle. That's why she'll take a year of life out of her patient to maintain her youth and beauty. The core purpose she does that is to hopefully find someone someday, whose aura could make her sees the world. She was born without a sight. It's an ironic case, when she was endowed with the gift of healing, but failed to heal her own vision,” Vortex said, while shaking his head.

“We can’t let her take a year out of Rooney’s life, nor Maxim’s. That's absurd,” said Elli. Maxim smiled faintly at her and dozed off in Marko’s grasp.

“Unless you have a better way to heal them and persuade her concurrently.” Vortex held her gaze. A queer gleam dashed across his pupils, making Elli feel unease.

It took an hour of waiting before the crowds dwindled. The witches called after Maxim and Rooney's names. Vortex placed them on the chairs before Samsonian. The healer's face enlightened at once as she studied Maxim's palms.

“Alas, alas, the Head of Patrol, someone powerful,” she chanted jovially, while pricking a droplet of blood from his index finger and dropping the liquid into a tumbler filled with water. The translucent liquid changed to light golden and gave out a scent of freshly brewed jasmine tea. Samsonian nodded and sang to herself, “My time has come, my time has come.” 

Grinning, she gulped down the liquid, never caring of the hygiene issue. She then placed a hand on Maxim’s forehead and exiled the poison out. Maxim shuddered and woke up an instant later. The blind witch crossed her fingers and murmured a minute long of incantation under her breath. Pursing her lips, she waited for miracle to happen. A long fifteen minutes had slipped away, but she was still unable to unlock the clammed-tight eyelids.

Howling, she swept her fingers along the table. Bibyon jumped to her feet in shock. Files and coins clanked to the floor. “Foul! Foul! I've done enough good deeds to the dwellers of the realm. Why, why did you treat me like this?” Her hands shot to mid-air, as if asking for an answer from the divine. “Go away, pygmy, I won’t heal you.” Her head tilted at the direction of Rooney; her voice quavered when she finally calm down.

“No, no, please, heal my friend. From the place I come, there's a certain art of medication that can instil vision into your eyes. You can follow me back when our mission is completed. I promise. Please, don’t give in healing my friend,” Elli begged. 

“Can science really heal me? Can the art of human really bring sight and colour to my life?” asked Samsonian.

“Yes!” Elli, the Black-Borns and the Jackals chanted in sync. Rooney nodded in vigorous hope.

“Well, it'll do me no harm to do one more good deed.” Samsonian placed her palm an inch above Rooney’s wound and healed it. “This time, I won’t request payment for my treatment, but you've to vow upon your words. If you don’t fulfil your promise, I'll place a jinx on his scar and his wound will rot.”

“You have my words, Samsonian,” Elli promised.

Samsonian smiled and waved her hand. In a blink of an eye, they were out at the desert again, all fit and revived. Benedict was helping the goblins to wear his son’s clothes. When he saw Rooney, he gave him a huge half-moon grin. Dziubiel gestured them to the carts. When they arrived at the outskirt of Ordimalia Town, Elli gave him all the apples she could dig out of her backpack. The goblin shook her hands, bit his apple with an appreciative grin, and waved them good-bye.

The group walked into the town with uplifting mood, but as soon as they saw the shadows in front of them, their smiles were wiped off from their faces.