The Magician 13

Oscen said loudly, "Don't let him fall asleep."

Instead of heading straight for the cleaned cut Abbess Maria had prepped for him, the young man went straight for the arrow wounded soldier, as she watched in worry. It was unfounded. After cleaning the shaft, he applied a salve on it.

One soldier said, "Is he healing the man or the arrow?"

The Abbess said, "Watch and you'll understand, young sir."

She didn't remember showing him that trick but chalked it up to a lifetime of eventful moments. The speed and precision of movement left her a little dumbfounded but the world was filled with talented young people destined by 'The Lord' for many a calling.

She said, "See how the shaft drags the salve deep into the wound as it is pushed out?"

The soldier asked, "Why not reverse the course of the arrow? It has already made its tear. Why make it worse by aiding it in completing its course?"

The abbess sighed, "If only such a thing were possible, many a lost life would have been saved. Punctures are sucking wounds. They cling and grip onto what is lodged inside. He made the less damaging choice. Had he chosen to pull, I would have stopped him unless it was a shallow puncture."

Oscen cut the arrow head off and cleaned the other side of the shaft before applying salve on it as well. With a swift pull, the arrow was free and the young man made quick work of the rest. The prepared cut he was originally supposed to deal with was handled with such absentminded ease, the soldiers who witnessed it wondered if the boy had apprenticed with a village physician before.

With a silent prayer of forgiveness for the small lie, the abbess said, "Indeed. It wasn't to be official until later this spring when he left the orphanage but Little Wren had been under the physician's care for the past two years, may the Lord of Light grant him peace."

The soldier in charge, who had been silently watching the whole time said, "Which is it, Oscen or Wren?"

With a faint blush, Maria said, "Ah, Vault of Heaven preserve! Oscen means song bird. Little Wren is the name of affection I've given him all these years because he likes to sing when he thinks he is alone. Though, not so much these past two years since a visiting bishop suggested that he become a castrato for the capitol's choir."

The man's eyes bulged a little and made the circle of the sun on his chest. "The Lord is merciful but his holy men frighten me at times."

The Abbess muttered, "As they should. Sometimes men forget that they are still only men when they wear the mantle of our Lord's grace but you did not hear that from me... In this case, it was unfounded concern. The Bishop had mistaken Little Wren for being younger than he was. Perhaps it was a bit cruel of me but I once used it as a way to ensure good behavior."

The soldier looked at her with horrified awe. "Diabolical! Perhaps the holy 'men' are not the only ones to fear."

She chuckled. "Women need to take all the leverage they can get. Especially when it's needed to keep growing boys in check before they become men.

While they had been talking, Oscen had been working on Warrick's head injury. To his surprise, under the stimulus of seeing his friend's injured state, a mysterious feeling had welled up within. Although it was fairly unnoticeable to all but Oscen himself, the swelling had went down some and the seeping stopped.

He had barely registered himself either because Maria's words had drawn his attention to them. "Abbess, I had nightmares for months after that!"

With smug righteousness, she replied, "And you were the best behaved you had ever been. You even helped keep... Sorry, Little Wren. I know you miss your friend keenly."

He looked between Warrick and the Abbess in confusion but decided not to comment. Children who grew up in the orphanage learned two things quickly. It was a bad idea to contradict authority. It wasn't such a great idea to volunteer information either.

If she didn't recognize Warrick, he wasn't going to enlighten her because he had heard one of the soldiers ask 'Duran' how he was doing. Oscen didn't understand why his friend would lie about their name but wasn't about to be the one to out them. He, of course, fully intended on asking about it later when they were alone.

Looking appropriately downtrodden, Oscen said, "Many lived who otherwise wouldn't have. I hope that they appreciate that."

With conflicting emotion in her eyes she lied. "Of course they do. Many have given prayers and thanksgivings to his deeds and ones for his safety as well."

The soldier in charge sighed. "It's a shame really. I picked up this gem over here and From what he said of this Warrick lad, I would have two fine new recruits. Never the less, perhaps I do anyway.

"Tell me, Little Wren. Did your master have any other student to complete his trade that might take you in?... I thought not. We'll have old Sawbones evaluate your skills back at the charter house. That is, unless being little better than a serf or criminal soldier appeals to you?"

It was strong arm tactics but it wasn't an untrue statement. Tenant farmers lived no better than a serf in all but name and the ability to choose their landlord. Youth conscripts might work for years before making any military rank, if they lived long enough, as they were often lumped together with criminal conscripts for front line duty.

With a wry smile that made him seem older than his years, Oscen said, "Show me the way to the charter house."

Later that evening, sharing the 'new recruit' tent salvaged from bandit goods, he finally had his chance to confront his friend.

"What in the nine hells is going on?" he whispered.

Duran replied just as quietly, "Just sleep on it and you'll understand more tomorrow. Anything I can tell you now is just going to confuse you and get you asking questions I can't answer... Honestly, I would like to know how you're not already... I don't know... caught up with me."

With a tingling running up his scalp, Oscen said, "You've been getting strange memories too?"

Duran nodded, "And faster for some reason I don't understand."

The budding physician said, "Maybe it has to do with stimulation? I was scared for a little bit but you went chasing after the bandits like a suicidal crazy person."

His young militant friend said, "They had our little brothers and sisters from the orphanage. What was I supposed to do? Besides, good deeds pay off. They do this time, anyway... Mind giving me a once over with your healing before you call it a night? I ache from from hair tip to toe nail."

Rummaging through his pack, Oscen said, "I've got some pain relief and anti inflammation stuff in here somewhere."

Duran looked at him strangely. "Your healing ability. Use your supernatural ability... to heal... the crack in my skull."

It took some more coaxing before 'Little Wren' tried and more before he got the idea he actually could. After a minute or so, Duran looked relieved and Oscen had passed out from exhaustion.

Muttering quietly to himself, Duran said, "I think you were onto something with the stimulation thing but I don't think it has anything to do with adrenaline. I think it has to do with the powers we have... We should have awakened and matured much earlier, not being raised from toddlers at an orphanage. Something went wrong and we have no way to find out what it was."

When his friend started letting off a fuzzy glow, Duran covered him up, careful not to touch the sleeping young mage. There was a small but subtle temptation that lasted a brief second before being snuffed out. The type of relationship that both of them needed more than any other was a simple and straightforward friendship to weather all the radical changes and chaos in their lives.

He might not have any real clue what his 'ideal partner' might look like but he was certain that it would be a woman. And that was no favor, to either one of them, in their current world. Like most non-modern ones, it wasn't a fun place and that was exponentially true for a pretty woman.

There wasn't a single ounce of surprise on Duran's face when he woke up from Orison's startled gasps. As the young mage clawed to alert wakefulness, Duran held a finger up to his lips. While They tried to gain equilibrium, Orison searched Their friends face for context on how to treat what was revealed. As usual, it was blandly stoic but there was a hint of amusement in it too.

"For the record, Samsara runs the gambit of a person's inner composition. Reese was a fairly extreme expression and in no way a good representation of myself," Orison felt the need to explain.

Duran shrugged. "My last samsara incarnation was as balanced and accepting as I can be. Funny thing is, I know that but can't remember much about any of the others at all."

The young mage nodded. "It would defeat the purpose. We were using a causality loophole to 'un' time travel, I think. What I'm the most concerned about is how few people I can remember. There had to have been tonnes."

The soldierly young man said, "That would defeat our current purposes, which are a fresh start and safety for the people we care about, among other things."

They snorted. "What a hell of a fresh start! We aren't where we're supposed to be. The worst part is, I'm supposed to have a decent idea of which world is which in terms of power progression and I don't. We might as well throw the whole itinerary out the window. Time frame, location, points of reference; they're all wrong."

Duran rolled the information in his head and said, "You mean to tell me that we were actually forced to have the fresh start we were supposed to have?... Joke out of my system, something obviously went wrong but we have no way of finding out what it was. Let's not waste our effort grabbing at things we can't control."

The young mage frowned. "You sound almost like you're happy we're in hard mode without a strategy guide."

The soldierly young man sighed. "Not happy but maybe a little more excited than I should be. Knowing everything in advance is... boring."

Orison scratched their head in frustration. "Fine. It is what it is. When are we ditching this bunch?"

"What can you do to help?" Duran said.

The young mage ran through Their 'new place' magic testing. "The healing set is pretty complete but slow and costly. In the summon set, best combat has mundane wolf parameters and best ability type is elemental sprite. Material conjuring and altering is REALLY slow and unsurprisingly heavy in essence cost. Outside of law casting, I think I can piece Presto back together in around an hour."

Duran said, "That's a lot more than you should have starting out but less than enough. You're a mage! Where's the fireballs and lightning?"

Orison smirked as They summoned a fire sprite for a couple of seconds. "Oh, it doesn't look impressive but it's a fireball that listens to orders. We'll it's more like a matchstick that listens to orders now. But, just you wait and see!

"There may be a peaceful solution to all of this. Way better because we'll want to return to help our little 'brothers and sisters' out before we head on about our own business, yes? Or, I want to, at least."

Duran snorted but didn't add further comment as they acted out Orison's plan. Fifteen minutes later, they left the tent with their stuff gathered up. The two had wrapped their faces and were letting out the occasional wet cough and sniffing up runny noses.

In a quick round robin of discussion with the leader, who had been wakened slightly ahead of schedule due to the incident, the young mage explained that it seemed to be a late spring flu. To keep from infecting the men or bringing it back to their charter house, Orison asked to borrow one of the horses acquired from the bandits and wait out the two or three days of sickness at the village before returning.

"And if it turns out to be something more serious?" the leader asked.

Orison said dourly, "Then I'll plant the plague flags to keep local church officials and nobles from spreading it in their relief efforts until it's resolved. I really do believe it to only be lingering winter flu. Miserable, annoying but far from deadly."

The man chuckled from a good, safe distance and said, "Most recruits in your situation would be begging to not be abandoned. All that will be left in your village when you arrive will be the stubborn and unwelcoming homesteaders. Though, the monastery would have a serviceable room or two. Is that where I'll find my horse?"

The young mage said. "Better to expect a few silver and a well fed monastery. The half lame one there will do. It's a few days past useful but it's got one hobbling day left in it before filling some bellies."

The man looked at the broken down mare with a poorly healing foot wound. "Three silver for the horse and one for the tent, bedding included. If you haven't got it, my apologies."

Orison took out the whole coin bag and handed it over. "Don't be coy, sir. That was bait to see if we had it and you would have taken the whole thing on the chance that some was pocketed from bandits by my friend. There isn't much left to cry over after paying your stated price anyway."

"Fair coincidence that it's only a few copper over my asking," the leader said, looking at the young mage suspiciously.

"A sentiment I share in turn, sir. I thought we were traveling with the bandit slayers, not the bandits. My friend and I had five silver in savings for our majority and now all but a small few coppers rest in your hand. How heartless do you feel like being? We'll need to eat while we're sick, you know," Orison said in irritation.

The leader didn't seem completely convinced but wasn't about to shake them down in front of his men after fleecing them so harshly. "Tell the monastery's caretaker that he better have six silver, a living horse or a rotting horse corpse waiting for me when I come to check."

Orison nodded wearily and climbed up on the weakly protesting mare while Duran numbly shuffled to roll up the tent.

As they made distance, one soldier said, "That horse don't look like its going to even get them back."

"Not my problem but it is OUR drinking money on fortnight leave. A little debt hanging over their heads will help keep them in line. What was that debt again? I think I said one gold and six silver for the decent horse they took. That'll be drinks AND companionship for a few fortnight leaves, men." the leader said.

"Sounds like an unlucky number that you wouldn't say. I believe I heard two gold even, sir," another cut in.

As soon as they were out of sight, Orison fixed the problem They had created to look ill and spent some time on the horse before sagging onto the horse's bare back. "Charter house... We almost got snatched up by a noble sanctioned mercenary group, Duran. What a freaking nightmare. There must be some bloody summer campaign brewing somewhere nearby."

The soldierly young man replied, "We'll have to watch for a press gang when we swing through the village again, then."

Orison laughed, "Like hell we will."

The young mage produced two enameled badges with rotten, old looking snapped thread on the back. "Their poor deceased companions are going to be buried without crest marked uniforms, though. Alright, let's stop and refit. I have two suit balls and a ring that just got uncovered from my inner space."

A few minutes later, they were heading to where Duran had hidden a lock box with the meager amount of accumulated wealth that the impoverished bandits' leader had secretly amassed. "Why so gloomy, Sonny?"

"Why do suits need a planned obsolescence date from activation? There's less than half a year left on them. Whatever. I'm glad they work at all. The 'small garden' ring just crapped out into a 'small gym locker' ring that's probably only going to reliably last for a few months," Orison grumbled.

Duran said, "We are lower than we were supposed to start. That explains why you can do a little more than you should and why this stuff works. Our original starting location would have stripped those suit balls to carbon dust and broke that ring as soon as it came out."

The young mage said, "I can verify that we're in the right reality, at least. The basketball chunk of condensed eternium I was using as a fake sun turned into a thumbnail piece of black opal. It's kind of pretty."

"Kind of deadly to be holding out in the open too. Until it gets set as a focus gem, it can draw monsters and greedy people alike," Duran said.

The young mage laughed. "The enchantment in it twisted and internalized. It's worthless for anything other than a really expensive tanning light bulb."

Duran said, "You are way too dismissive of things. Throw it in a lantern and slap the right label on it. It's an anti-undead minor deity level artifact."

Bickering back and forth as old friends often do, the duo picked up the lock box and a few mundane but useful items before turning towards the village. "So, this is why you were gone that extra day?"

Duran shook his head. "I was gone so long because I finished awakening after killing off the bandits. I originally planned on coming back to the village as a bounty hunter or something but those soldiers caught up to me first. That knot on my head was from an initial attempt to run. I smoothed that over by pretending that I thought the bandits were some noble's mercenary group and they were some sort of back-up.

"I probably was lucky that they were one themselves. An actual noble's soldiers probably wouldn't have cared and killed me. If I was a completely normal person, that blow to my head might have done it anyway. If they hadn't caught me while I was still weak from awakening, I might not have cared and killed them. It evens out."

The young mage asked, "What would you have done if I didn't have a plan to get away from them?"

"I would have had to kill them. They weren't anything good. Then again, neither am I. I'm glad I didn't have to," the soldierly young man said.