The Healer

Stables. Horse. Village edge.

Kyra at the edge of the village, westward bound, toward the Redwood Forest once more. Her gaze is steadfast, but uneasiness rises from deep within.

"I better not regret this." Kyra angrily gritted her teeth.

Sun high in the sky, clouds are scarce, a perfect day, anyone would say. Kyra rides through the forest with great purpose; she knows her way and this forest well. Knowing where to travel and where to avoid but reluctantly going toward something she would hope to avoid.

The further into the forest she rides, the darker it becomes; the sky is still visible through the forest canopy, but its light is not piercing the floor. Bandits and monsters are becoming more prevalent, but she remains undeterred. Skilfully steering clear of danger with an occasional arrow being loosed from her bow when one of them gets too excited for fresh meat.

A couple hours into the journey, the forest has become so thick with vines and nature that traversing on horseback is difficult. Vines wrapping around trees and splaying across them pierced deep into the ground and out again, looking like serpents. The vines react to Kyra's presence and strike. They wrap around the horse's legs, halting it in its tracks and sending Kyra through the air, to which more vines grab her limbs, suspending her in the air. Unphased by this happening, she simply shouts out to the forest.

"FARRRIIIOONNN!!!!" She bellows. The sound travels throughout.

The vines release Kyra as she hits the ground with a thud, the wind getting knocked out of her momentarily. She gets up, clearly pissed off, her look never changing. She glances back toward the horse as it struggles to escape, the vines still locking it tightly.

The vines in front of Kyra slither and weave, creating a makeshift path for her, as if urging her to follow, which she does.

Monsters are seen on the trees staring, watching very cautiously. They could best be likened to living plant monsters, their bodies camouflaged against the nature of the forest, watching ever so closely, waiting for a wrong action from Kyra. She remains unphased mainly, but her senses remain alert, the danger of death still very plausible.

A few minutes of walking, a small cottage comes into view, engrossed in plant life. The vines grip the door handle and open it for Kyra. She steps inside, tracing mud and dirt throughout; two tiny monsters, their shape and size that of a leaf and spotted, sweeping up behind her, pushing the debris back outside.

The inside of the cottage is warm, with more plants than the house within hardened. Hardened vines take the shape of furniture, chairs, tables, and even a lampshade with a small floating orb emitting a bright yellow light from the centre of it. A man stands at the end of the house facing away from Kyra next to an alchemy station. The bubbles and smoke rise toward the ceiling before dissipating. The man, large in stature and as wide to match, utters.

"You are back; why?" He asks, straight to the point.

Kyra hesitates for a second.

"I need you to make me a healing potion, Farion, a strong one." Her unwavering gaze and voice broke briefly before steeling herself again. Their conversation is direct, no small talk, only business.

"Oh?" His curiosity peaked. "And why would I do that?"

Kyra unsheathes the sword, unique etching, and a faint hum of energy radiates from it—the sword from the ogre, Morgal. The vines sprout spikes ready to pounce, while the two leaves, once sweeping, have drawn small miniature swords and pointed them toward Kyra.

"I brought this as an exchange."

Kyra flips the sword around and grabs the tip, the handle pointing towards the man.

"Then you learned from last time." Farion says as he turns around to face Kyra.

Her gaze was full of ire, almost burning a hole through him.

"You resent me so greatly, yet you come crawling to me for help. Why?" Farion asks.

"Irrelevant, you gonna take the trade or not?" Kyra was frustrated but trying to keep her composure.

Farion stares coldly at Kyra before deciding to speak.

"This is part of the deal, speak. Why do you require the potion?"

Kyra sighs slightly in anger.

"For a man. He's dying, and I could've helped him." Her vision is unwavering from Farion's.

"A lover? What is he to you, Kyra.?" Farion asks.

"No. Just a man that'll probably die cause of me." She states, her voice composed and cold, but Farion senses the true nature between the words...Shame.

"Your emotions were always turbulent, but that does not explain why you helped him; you have watched countless people die that you could've helped." Farion asks, pushing her more to explain.

Kyra bites her tongue and remains silent, to Farion's surprise.

"Hmm? Your silence is astonishing; you always liked to be heard. You do not wish to tell me the real reason because the real reason involves me. You hate me so much, and why? Because I hold you to the standard of everyone else?"

"I'M YOUR DAUGHTER!!" She roars out, and her composure vanishes, responding in the only way she knows how.

"Ahh, there it is the voice that loves to be heard. You crave the attention but hate to admit it. You are a child and always will be...but the trade is sufficient; I will craft your potion." Farion says as vines move and engulf the sword.

"You're a bastard, rotten as can be." Kyra's voice is full of disgust.

Farion only laughs in response.

"For all your shortcomings, you always made me laugh.

Farion signals Kyra to leave.

"Wait outside while I work."

Kyra angrily storms outside, finding a nearby rock to sit on.

With swords drawn at Kyra, the two leaves unwavering in their duty.

"No funny business now! Right, speck?" Fleck squeaks.

"Yeah! No funny business, Fleck!" Chimes in Speck.

Kyra moves her boot, sending it flying through the air, their tiny shouts falling distant in the shrubbery.

Time passes as Kyra fights to stay awake. The sky darkens on an already darkened forest.

The cottage door opens.

"It's completed," Farion states as he exits the door, only just managing to squeeze out.

She walks up to him. A bottle is in his hands, a circular glass bottle that thins at the top with a cork to keep the contents within. A red and orange liquid violently swirls inside with a gold colour speckled throughout it.

She grabs the bottle and tries to walk away, but Farion's grip remains tight.

"This potion is no guarantee. It depends on the person's will if they want to keep living." Farion coldly states to Kyra as he releases his grip.

"Then I'll be taking the sword back, cunt." As Kyra runs off toward her horse.

Farion chuckles slightly before heading back into the cottage, Speck and Fleck rubbing their heads, stumbling in.

Kyra returns to her horse, only to find it dead, crushed and suffocated by the vines.

"You bastard! Fuck!" Angrily, she gritted her teeth again.

Only a moment is spent thinking before she starts running through the forest. Running alone highlights her prowess; she exudes impressive speed and agility. Barely disturbing the ground as she runs, animals do not realise her presence until she passes them.

Kyra keeps this pace for far longer than she should be capable of; determination and a furious burning hatred of her father spurred her on. She keeps going, but it isn't sustainable, stopping and keeling over, throwing up what little food and drink she has on the ground and over her clothes. Sweat profusely fell from her face, gasping for air. After a minute of resting, her breathing calms again, and she shakily sets off again.

Unending. Resilient.

"Either be long dead, or you fucking live till I get there!" She shouts, talking to herself.

Long past any limit she thought possible, digging deep into the core of her being, she carried on determined.

She reaches The village in the dead of night. She barely manages to make her way to the Infirmary, getting stuck in the mud and throwing her weight forward until she reaches the makeshift walkway. Dried sick stains her clothes.

A guard sees her struggling, looking puzzled for a second before he walks over to her.

"Are you okay, ma'am? You need any-"

Kyra pushes him out of the way and keeps moving on. Unrelenting until she reaches the Infirmary.

She throws herself through the door, crashing to the floor before getting back up. A nurse hurries over and grabs her arm, trying to help her up, but Kyra pushes her away.

"..Garr..ick's room….where?" She says, exhausted, speaking, taking as much effort as anything.

A nurse steps back.

"Garrick? Uh...room ten, through the back there-"

As the nurse points, Kyra slumps into the back room, finding the door marked '10'. She uses her body weight, leaning into the door to open it.

Inside the room, Garrick lays unconscious and bandaged heavily, every effort made to make him as comfortable as possible. He lies on the verge of death. He was breathing shallow and sharp. Kyra brings out the potion and uncorks it; a detestable odour emanates, making Kyra's body heave and wretch, trying to keep the smell from getting inside.

"If this...doesn't bring...you back then…I'll kill you...myself…." She says through haggard breath

She pours the liquid into his mouth as a nurse tries to grab her arm and stop her, but Kyra elbows her away and roars at her.

"STAY THE FUCK BACK!"

She continues pouring as Garrick's body struggles to drink down the potion; it quickly bubbles back up and cascades from the sides of his mouth, pooling by his head. The bottle is empty and non-functional.

Kyra watches silently.

The liquid begins to move on its own. Coating Garrick's body, seeming to have intelligence, it moves and covers his right arm and torso, the most injured parts, as it soaks in and disappears.

No Response...no response...no response….

End Chapter