Eliona's War 2: Veiled Healer

Chapter 31

He stood in the courtyard in a state of disbelief. Blood, thick and wet, coated his hands from where he'd unconsciously grasped at the glaive when it had punctured his chest. More of it soaked into his coat, enough that a few drops fell free and splattered onto the stone beneath him.

Getting killed wasn't a new thing to Severance, but this time had been particularly awful. Free Traders had swarmed around him like a pack of coyotes on a wounded deer, and he'd fought back as best he could. Thanks to his newest skill, Suppress, he'd even bought himself a chance to escape.

But he hadn't taken it. Why?

The answer came readily, in the form of a tall and thin man striding into his mind's eye, the tails of a long mahogany coat swaying with every step. Ervante. Severance unconsciously clenched his hands, for the mental image brought a deep-seated unease that lingered on the boundary of fear.

He'd tried to leave. He remembered that so clearly. But–

You don't want to do that, Ervante had said.

And just like that, Severance hadn't wanted to leave. It made no sense. It was like the creep had reached inside his head and twisted things around. That kind of thing shouldn't be possible.

Severance touched his own face, fingertips tracing his jaw. He could still feel Ervante's fingers gripping his chin, digging in cruelly. He remembered the mad light in the man's gaze.

It made him feel sick.

"Alright, there?"

A gloved hand suddenly was there, reaching towards him out of the blue, and Severance recoiled.

Don't touch me!

It took him a second to register that a Veiled clansman was before him. Considering that he stood before the big doors of the Veiled House, he probably should have seen that coming.

"Whoa, easy there, kid."

The newcomer wasn't a big fellow, the top of his head barely reaching Severance's shoulder, and he had a black bandana covering most of the hair. He raised both hands—no wait, one hand, because the other was gone, with only a tucked-in sleeve to hide its absence.

Severance stiffened, all attention focusing on that stump the second he noticed it. Now it came rushing back to him: this was the guy who came back to the House on death's door, missing a hand and gushing blood like a geyser. Severance remembered healing him, how he was able to close the wound but little else—he couldn't regrow limbs for Elionan civilians.

How useless. Weak. Maybe he was deluded like Ervante had said. To think he could actually help people when all he did was fail.

He tensed even further, jaw clenched tight.

"Sorry."

He turned away, intending to escape into the house and find a quiet, dark corner where he could try and sort things out on his own. But he'd barely managed to take a step before the Veiled man moved into his path, forcing him to stop.

Severance found himself looking down into the face of the man he'd failed, whose name he'd forgotten but thankfully it floated above his head: Parvath.

"Hello there," Parvath smiled, but it was tight and humorless. "Everything alright?"

Severance just stared at him. After a long moment, his gaze drifted once more to the man's stump, unable to help himself. "Is your arm okay?"

Parvath let out an incredulous laugh. "You're asking me? I'm perfectly well, kid. Why don't you take a look at yourself? You look like you ran through a den of ubyous! What happened?"