Chapter Fifty One.

Chapter Fifty One: Detachment…

Ting! Ting! Ting!

The ringing sound of the blacksmith's hammer filled his house. The log walls muffled the sounds coming from the workshop attached to the blacksmith's house to some extent, but not by much. Greg didn't let it bother him as his hands moved over the nape of Eniya's neck, the blacksmith's wife. Greg had thought it would take much longer for him to cement his role of healer in the minds of the townspeople. He, however, was shocked at how quickly the town accepted this new role. Just three days of moving around taking care of the minor pains and maladies they dealt with every day, and people referred to him as Healer Roka.

It wasn't to an obsequious degree, but Greg had noticed that people treated him with much more respect and deference. Even though they all knew that he was still a healer in training, only capable of dealing with minor issues, they gave him the respect of a full-fledged healer. It didn't take a genius to puzzle out why. In their minds, they probably thought that Greg would eventually take the role of his teacher and become the town's healer. No one wanted to get on the bad side of someone whose disposition toward you could mean the difference between life and death if you were injured or ill.

The blacksmith's vigilance only lasted two days. He would hang back after Greg had applied some pain-alleviating potion to his hammering arm. He'd watch as Greg applied the same potion to his wife and then proceed to massage her neck in the process. Unbeknownst to the blacksmith, the SENSUAL TOUCH bangle hanging off his wrist made each of his touches a spark that ignited the flame of lust in the woman. What was supposed to be a simple massage, turned into a secret erotic experience for his wife unbeknownst to the man.

Greg suspected that part of the reason the blacksmith had always been such a jolly fellow was because of his love for his craft. All it had taken was two days for him to grow impatient and start looking distracted even as Greg worked. Greg could tell that the man was planning out his projects in his mind even as his wife moaned appreciatively under the ministrations of Greg's hands. On this particular day, the man had only watched them for a minute or so before announcing that he was going back to the workshop and that if Greg needed anything he only had to call.

Greg had remained cautious and kept to the same massage he'd given the previous days, just in case the man was testing him in some way. It wasn't until the hammering began that an impish smile crossed his lips behind the CHARMING mask. On previous days, Greg had focused his attention strictly on the back of Eniya's neck and nowhere else. Shortly after the hammering began, however, his hand smoothly moved to the woman's shoulders and began to massage her there. Rather than show confusion or any sort of objection, Eniya seemed to relax even more in her seat, a smile playing on her lips. From the front, the dress she had on didn't have that deep a neckline. From where he stood behind her looking down at the seated woman, however, Greg could see the deep cleavage hidden by the modest dress.

Greg began by shifting the focus of his massage from her shoulders to her clavicle closer to her neck. The circular motions of his hands slowly grew wider and wider until the tips of his fingers were, with increasing frequency, disappearing into her dress brushing against the top of her breasts. Greg didn't miss the way her breath hitched whenever he did. He didn't miss the way she was biting down on her lower lip as she tried to fight the urge to moan out loud. The woman was quickly losing herself to the pleasure that was coursing through her body as a result of the SENSUAL TOUCH bangle.

In no particular rush, Greg spent the next minute and a half slowly teasing and torturing the woman with pleasure. His hands would dip down and brush lightly against her breasts, before coming back up to her shoulders. By the two-minute mark, Eniya was unconsciously pushing her chest forward into his hand whenever they dipped down to touch them. Still, Greg didn't give her what she so desperately wanted. Greg wasn't just looking to score a few easy points by groping the woman's breasts. He was playing the long game. Even more than the momentary pleasure and satisfaction of enjoying the feel of this woman's breasts, he was looking to plant a seed. A seed of desire deep in her very core. That's why, while one arm had the SENSUAL TOUCH bangle, the other one was adorned with the ADDICTIVE bangle. Eventually, the number of minor ailments that people would need him for would dwindle to almost nothing. But by that time, that seed would have bloomed into a desire that would make it so that the women were the ones who sought him out as opposed to the other way around.

This was the strategy that Greg was using with every woman that he managed to treat. Rather than seek quick gratification, he was nurturing the flames of desire within them. Greg may have skirted the line of impropriety with many of them, but thus far, he hadn't done anything that would be considered overtly sexual with any of his female patients. If he planned this out strategically, he'd have an almost continuous supply of lust points.

"I think that's enough for today!"

"What?! No!"

Greg had been closely monitoring the state of the woman as her breathing became more rugged and her legs began to tremble slightly. He may not have groped her breasts, but the pleasure from his touch had been building up all the same. Greg could tell that she'd been drifting closer and closer to orgasmic release when he decided to pull back. Her objection had been immediate and faster than he would have given her credit for, her hands shot out. Like a viper striking at prey, they caught hold of his withdrawing hands and pulled them back down to herself. Greg didn't object or fight her as she brought his hands back to her shoulders. Despite her desire, she wasn't brazen enough to place them where she truly wanted them. Not saying anything to her, Greg's eyes quietly interrogated her from behind the CHARMING mask, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I… I need more," The woman pleaded. Despite already being flush with arousal, Greg could almost see her face grow redder as she tried to give voice to her need.

Moving his hands to the back of her neck, Greg spoke. "Is the medicine not working?" he asked as he began to lightly massage the back of her neck, knowing perfectly well that this wasn't where she craved his touch.

Eniya's frustration broke through her shyness as she let out an annoyed huff. "No, not there," She said about to reach up and move his hands to where she wanted them.

A different voice, however, cut in at this point. "Eniya, Is everything okay?" The blacksmith asked as he stood in the doorway.

Completely relaxed, his hands continued to massage the base of the back of the woman's neck as Greg turned to the man. Unbeknownst to the woman, her first exclamation when Greg made to stop had been loud enough that the hammering from the next room had stopped. But while she'd been too lost in her desire to notice, Greg had all through been paying close attention to the hammering. All it would take is one slip-up on his part and his plans would go up in smoke. If he was caught in a compromising situation by one of the men, it would be all over this little town by the end of the day. At that point, no man would be willing to have their women come anywhere near him.

This was why, while his wife looked like a deer in headlights, Greg could calmly respond to the man. "It would seem that the potion I've been using isn't quite as effective as I'd hoped. There's still some residual soreness in her neck that she was hoping I could remove. I think I'll have to use something a little stronger going forward," He said.

A frown crossed the blacksmith's face as he turned to his wife. "I thought you told me that his medicine is working and your pain would be gone in a few days?" He questioned in a displeased tone.

While he maintained his calm demeanor, Greg wasn't sure how to respond to this. Luckily for the two of them, Greg answering the blacksmith's first question had given the man's wife the second she needed to compose herself once more and be able to calmly answer her husband. "I said what I said because I know you, husband," She replied with a smile. "Most of my pain is gone, and what little remains I can largely endure without much trouble. But if I told you that, you'd get that look in your eyes that you have right now," She pointed out "Just because I'm not perfectly healed, doesn't mean I'm not getting better," She assuaged the man's worries.

The man continued to scowl for a few seconds before letting out a sigh. "You don't have to hide anything from me Eniya, I am your husband, worrying for your well-being is my duty," He lightly chastised.

Smiling at the defused situation, Greg spoke up. "I think I've done all I can for today," He said withdrawing his hands from the back of Eniya's neck. "I'll try to get something stronger by tomorrow and well see if we can't do a little bit more than we did today," He offered his gaze moving from the blacksmith to his wife. Innocuous as his words may have seemed, he could see that the woman understood exactly what he was implying. Much to his satisfaction, Greg could see the hunger in her eyes, the burning need and desire that coursed through her as she nodded in acknowledgment of the hidden message. "I'll see you both tomorrow," Greg said with a smile before making his way out of their home.

Looking up at the sky, Greg noted that it was almost midday. He could also feel within himself that all the mana that had been pumped into him in the morning had been digested by his body. When the process began, four months back, Greg would still feel some mana flowing through him by the time the next infusion came along. Now, however, four to five hours after an infusion, all the mana would have been used up. Whether it was reinforcing his mana pathways or fortifying his body through the spillover effect so that it could handle more mana, Greg could feel that the process had picked up pace the more he was subjected to it. Hell, even the pain had been reduced to little more than an uncomfortable tingle. With a satisfied smile, Greg turned and started moving towards the infirmary.

When he got there, Greg wasn't surprised to see a man in armor standing guard by the door. Hakor, was one of the guards under the Town-head's employ, and unlike most others, this man was a formidable fighter. Most of the other guards in the Town-head's employ would probably use swarming tactics to overwhelm a foe, Hakor, wasn't one of them. Known and respected as both a formidable brawler and decent with a sword, the man had been tasked with watching over and ensuring the safety of Shalia.

It wasn't anything supernatural about his senses that allowed Greg to pick up on the fact that they were being followed, three days prior after dinner at the Valla household. Instead, it was a magical artifact that he'd bought from the magic shop. The Arenia's eye, that's what it was called. A completely dark orb with a spindle-shaped, amethyst-purple line like the pupil of a cat on one side of it. After asking Olivia about it, he'd learned that the Arenia was a cat-like magical beast that was next to impossible to hunt. The reason for this was simple. As soon as you laid eyes on it, the beast would become aware of you. Even if it was facing a completely different direction from where you are, it would still know it was being watched. Not even scrying for the beast from a distance would allow one to evade the beast's senses. It would still know and make its escape as a result. And given that the thing could move as fast as the wind, it was next to impossible to catch it once it was alert. The only two ways to catch the beast were to either be faster than it or to somehow hunt it without ever laying eyes on it.

The artifact was fashioned from the beast's eyes and was supposed to grant its user the same abilities as the beast itself. The result, however, was nowhere near as good as the beast itself. For an Arenia, a split-second glance would be enough for it to become aware of a watcher. With the artifact, however, one would have to keep their eyes on him for roughly three to five seconds for him to become aware that he was being watched. If his watcher kept looking at him for ten seconds, Greg would get a sense of which direction he was being watched from. After fifteen seconds, the artifact would allow him to zero in on exactly where he was being watched from. The only way in which the artifact was equal to an actual Arenia was its ability to tell when someone was scrying on him. It wouldn't give him the direction or location of the scrying, but it would let him know that it was happening.

Greg understood why the artifact needed to be weaker than the actual beast. If it picked up on every single glance, not only would it be very distracting, but it wouldn't be able to distinguish between those who were only giving you a passing glance and those who were focused on you. Of course, the downside was that someone who knew how the artifact worked could easily beat it. It wasn't like the artifact compiled all the time that one had looked your way. All a knowledgeable opponent would have to do is ensure they never looked your way for more than a second and the artifact would never pick up on it. In this small town, however, there was no danger of anyone knowing this. Ironically, the artifact was part of the set of things he'd bought to face the Town-head if things went south with him. It, however, might have been the very thing that saved his daughter's life.

The first thing Greg did after revealing that they were being followed was to stop Shalia from turning around and seeking out their stalker. He didn't want their pursuer to figure out that they were already exposed. Whoever it was that had been following them, however, proved to be rather skittish. Greg had planned to first get Shalia home safely before summoning Olivia to chase down and capture their stalker. As soon as they moved past his house and it became clear he intended to escort Shalia back home, however, their stalker had ceased his pursuit and disappeared into the night. Despite this, Greg had stayed with Shalia right up until they came to her gate and she was escorted by The Town-head's guards to her house.

The next day, Greg arrived at the infirmary to find Hakor standing guard. When he walked inside, he found Shalia who explained what had transpired after she'd arrived home. Spooked by the experience of having someone sent after her, Shalia had revealed what had happened to her parents. Naturally, both had been scared of what could have happened and thankful to Greg for keeping her safe. According to Shalia, her father, the Town-head, was preparing some kind of gift for him for what he'd done. Still, despite this, her father had released Shalia from the punishment of having to be his servant. Hakor had been assigned to be her guard and she had been strictly forbidden from going anywhere without the man. Although he was disappointed to lose the chance to have Shalia to himself from time to time, Greg wasn't too surprised by this move on the Town-head's part. Shalia was their only daughter. If it was Greg in their shoes, he too would do everything in his power to protect her.

Greg found it slightly frustrating that he could not figure out which of the three families had sent the stalker. Each of the three would gain something if Shalia was taken out of the picture. For the Valla household, not only would Shalia's death sever any ties that Greg had to the Town-head, but it would also eliminate any competition Naiya would have in gaining his affections. Both boons that, perhaps, they would be willing to kill for. For the other two families, Killing Shalia would not only sever his ties to the Town-head but there was also a chance that the Town-head would blame the Valla household for it, seeing as they were the last group in contact with her. Having two of their enemies fight and possibly either critically weaken or eliminate each other, could only benefit them.

The only people in the town's upper echelons that Greg didn't suspect thus far were Shalia's parents. Not only did they have no reason to kill their daughter, but they wouldn't benefit from her death in any way. Of course, there was a small chance that it was he that their stalker was after, but Greg doubted it. None of the three families were either brave or stupid enough to try and make an enemy out of the healer. If any one of them tried, the other two would probably laugh themselves half to death as they sat back and awaited the destruction of the responsible family. As such, Greg didn't waste any time with this line of thinking. Greg quietly nodded to Hakor as he walked past. The man nodded back in acknowledgment before his eyes went back to scanning around for any possible threats to Shalia's safety.

Inside, Greg walked to the room where he knew Shalia would be working on the ingredients left to her by the healer. This was the same room where Greg had his first lesson with the healer. True enough, Greg found the girl standing at her workstation struggling to straighten a thrashing yellow vine full of thorns. Looking at the thing, there were several thorns tinged red with the girl's blood and from the sharp way in which she withdrew her hand with a hiss, Shalia was having a hard time. Walking up behind the girl who had her bleeding thumb in her mouth, Greg wrapped his hand around her torso, his hands coming to cup Shalia's D-cup breasts. The girl was momentarily startled by Greg's actions before she melted into him. Almost unconsciously, she ground her ass against his groin as Greg lightly nibble on the lower tip of her earlobe.

With a guard watching her for almost all hours of the day, there wasn't much that Greg could do with her sexually. And while Hakor didn't watch the girl as closely while she was inside the infirmary, this was the healer's domain. Out of both respect and a healthy dose of fear, there were lines beyond which Greg wouldn't go. This, however, didn't stop Greg from relentlessly teasing her whenever he could. Part of it was to satisfy his desires. The girl had given herself to him, at least as far as her body was concerned and Greg enjoyed it every chance he got. Her generous curves, her supple skin that flushed with arousal whenever he was around, the way she bit down on her lower lip at his touch, it all came together to leave him barely able to keep himself from taking her right there and then. The other part, however, was his desire to imprint himself into her very psyche. Every chance he had Greg would subtly remind the girl both overtly and subtly that she was his.

"You do know that you are supposed to place the coiling thorn vine in warm water before you try to remove the thorns right?" He asked even as he played with her nipples through her dress.

Shalia hissed a curse under her breath. "I knew I was forgetting something," she said but made no move to resume her work. Instead, she continued to indulge herself in the sensations that his touch evoked in her. She knew, just like he did that they couldn't go too much further than this. But with no other avenues for privacy for them, she'd have to content herself with what she got. It was a double-edged sword. While it momentarily relieved her body's craving for him, it in the end always left her feeling unsatisfied and wanting him even more. This was why, whenever he came onto her, she didn't bother with being coy or acting the part of a reserved noble girl as she should. Instead, she just gave in wholeheartedly to his kisses, his caresses, his hands roaming all over her body, everything else forgotten. It was a short and pure moment of bliss, and all too quickly, it came to an end.

When Greg stepped back from the girl, she was already breathless and panting with desire. When she could finally produce sound again, a groan of frustration left her. "This… this is torture," She said, her need coming through in her voice.

"For both you and me," Greg readily admitted.

"Can… can I escort you back home today?" She asked. Given all that they'd so far done, it should have been odd for her to hesitate at making such a request. Greg, however, could understand why she did. When she did it before, she was in the role of a servant because of her father's punishment. This time, however, her desire was warring with her pride. To do the same things she did as a servant but of her own free will was galling to her pride. She, however, was burning with desire, and any chance to alleviate her current state was one that she wouldn't turn down.

Greg smiled at her, "Sure thing," He replied, before turning and continuing to make his way to the healer's cave…

***

"I hear that you've taken to dealing with the minor ailments in the town," The healer spoke up while Greg sat cross-legged inside the sigil. When Greg began this process, the pain of the process would make holding a conversation while it went on impossible. Now that he had acclimated to the process rendering it just uncomfortable as opposed to excruciating, it would be awkward for the two of them to just sit staring at each other for ten minutes. After all, channeling her mana into the sigil didn't require that much of her concentration. So long as she was careful not to infuse too much, the rest was taken care of by the sigil. Greg, on the other hand, had even less to do now that he wasn't bracing for the pain. As such, the two had taken to having small conversations during the infusion.

Greg was silent for a touch longer than he should have been for what should have been a simple question. Noting this, the healer looked up at him with an arched eyebrow, clear interest in her eyes. "You are my teacher," Greg began then paused, clearly thinking through what he was about to say. "I'm trusting you with my whole future as a mage, just as you will be doing with me when I dissolve your core and mana pathways. I don't want to lie to you, and soil the trust we have between us. At the same time, I'm afraid that if I tell you the truth, you might be angry with me, you might even think less of me," He stated. The healer didn't immediately answer him, clearly noticing that Greg was still working through his thoughts.

"You, however, have already been lied to and betrayed by people who were close to you," Greg continued causing a dark expression to cross the healer's face. "I don't want to be like those people. Odd as it may sound to say, I value your trust even more than I am afraid of you being unhappy with me. I don't ever want you to look at me and think that you can't trust me. I don't want you to ever hear me speak and wonder whether I believe what I'm saying to be true or if I'm just saying it because it serves my interests. So I'll tell you the truth despite my fears," He said the words just as much to himself as to the healer.

Greg had thought this through at length. While he would do everything in his power to keep what he was planning to do with the wives of the men in town from ever coming to light, he doubted that he'd be able to hide it from his teacher for that long. The woman was almost eight centuries old where as Greg was barely two decades! To try and outsmart her would be the height of folly on his part, not to mention that he wasn't even inclined to. While she kept a stoic façade, Greg knew that the betrayal of her closest friends was a bone-deep wound for her. Whatever trust she extended to him, was a fragile thing. If Greg wasn't careful, he could very easily lose it. Once that happened it would be next to impossible to get it back. And so he spoke.

"You are right, I have been healing any minor ailments the townspeople may have. I, however, have an ulterior motive…" Without embellishments or any attempts to frame what he planned to do in a better light, Greg told the healer everything. He told her about his plans to use his role as a healer to hide his true desire which was to seduce the women of the town. Greg didn't invoke Olivia or try to say that he had to do this for a greater purpose, he didn't try to justify himself in any way. Instead, he just laid out what it was that he planned to do. He knew that there was a risk that the healer might be upset with him, either out of jealousy, or displeasure for dishonoring the role of a healer, or even for risking her reputation given that he was her student. The one reaction Greg hadn't been expecting was the smile that crossed the healer's face once he was done speaking.

A small laugh escaped the healer once it became clear that Greg was done with his confession "Is that all?" She asked sounding both relieved and amused. "You had me worried that you'd done something terrible," She said.

Greg sputtered for a few seconds unsure what to make of her reaction. "Don't you care?" he asked, genuinely caught off-guard.

Another sigh, this time more somber, left the healer as she withdrew her hand from the sigil. She had stopped pumping mana into the sigil a while back but had unconsciously held the position as she listened to him. Once she was seated upright, she spoke. "There is a theory among some adherents of various faiths. The theory goes that, part of the reason that the gods may seem so cold, capricious, or even cruel sometimes, is because of how long they live. A moment of inattention from them and whole civilizations go by," She said. Despite his confusion at this response, Greg didn't interrupt the healer. "While mages aren't anywhere near as long-lived as the gods, we do experience a minor version of the same. Detachment, it's called," She laid out.

"You're too young to fully grasp the full measure of it but try to think about it. A hundred cycles from now, your family will be dead. Two hundred cycles from now, even this town will be a faded memory. If this town is still around three hundred cycles from now, it'll be among the rarer of towns. Be that as it may, it most certainly won't be the same town it is now. And say for example that your sister has children and you decide to watch out for them. How long and how far down the generations will you follow that connection until it too fades? Bit by bit, whether you like it or not, you will become unmoored. Your attachment to people will fade to almost nothing. With time, non-mages will become to you like motes of dust in the wind. Visible for a short time before they once again fade from view," She explained.

"I've been alive for almost eight hundred cycles, Roka. Worse yet, I've been a healer for almost as long. I have seen more pain, suffering, and death than most others, including mages my age from other schools of magic. I've even caused some of it," She admitted with a small shrug. "Eventually, at some point, it ceases to register as acutely as it once did. Just think about it for a moment, Roka. Go back ten generations in the past for these people and even then, I was already hundreds of cycles in age. Now go forward ten generations from now, long after everyone in this town is dead and forgotten, unless something goes horribly wrong, I'll probably still be alive. I act as a healer to these people, not because I care all that much whether they live or not, but because it serves me. The role of healer has allowed me to slowly over time rebuild my core and mana pathways even as I practice the lower tiers of magic. As soon as practicing in this town ceases to be beneficial to me, I will leave and probably never think of it again. Let's even imagine that your uncle had succeeded in his desire for power and in his folly he wiped out this town and everyone in it. So long as I remained unharmed, do you want to guess what I would do?" She asked.

"I'm guessing the answer is not swearing to avenge every one of us," Greg replied with a small smile.

A small scoff left the healer at his words. "In short, the answer to your question is no, Roka, I really don't care if you decide to fuck every single woman in this town," She offered with a shrug. "What really matters to me is that you valued my trust enough to be open with me," She said, this time her gaze intensely boring into him. "Trivial as the issue turned out to be for me, the trust we share isn't so trivial, so thank you for not betraying it," She said, and Greg could tell that she did mean it. Of all the ways Greg had seen this conversation going, being thanked at the end of it all wasn't one among the possibilities he'd considered. "Now tell me," The healer continued before Greg could even figure out what to say. "Is this the reason why you've been torturing my other student," She asked with an impish smile…