out of the forest, into the fire [kaldin/open!]

[Tally]

Ah, finally the road!

For days now Haven had been wandering around in the wilderness.  He'd been trying to get to Ketra, but a broken bridge diverted him from the road and he never found it again.  After that it was just one thing after another.  A rockslide blocking his way, brigands he had to avoid, cliffs he couldn't scale.  And it all forced him farther and farther south and eventually through a mountain pass that had been tough for him to get through.  At last he'd found a road again.  Not that he minded the ordeal much.  He faired well in the wildernessâ€"enjoyed it, evenâ€"but after several days he had to admit it was stretching his resourcefulness.

He disentangled himself from the brush and stumbled out onto the road.  Twigs and leaves were all stuck up in his hair and on his clothes and he had a time feeling around and finding them all and dusting himself off.

Now, er…where exactly was he?

He couldn't sense anyone within his immediate vicinity.  Nothing but the interweaving energies of the natural environment.  Hmm.  That would make it more difficult to find his way to a city or village.  Still, the road had to lead <I>somewhere</I>.  If he just followed it he'd hit something eventually, right?  And since he'd been going south this whole time, it seemed as good a direction as any, so he tightened the blindfold hiding his eyes and set off again.

Before long he became aware of a village up ahead.  The collective energy of so many people gathered in one place was like a beacon to his metaphysical senses and it brightened his mood to think he could sleep in an actual bed tonight.  A couple miles closer and doubt crept in.  Whatever lay up ahead, it was definitely not Ketra.  It was altogether different than any place he'd ever felt before, with an undercurrent of…violence? Malevolence?  Whatever it was, it got under his skin the closer he came to the village.

When he was very close, his staff, doubling as both a tool of his magecraft and a way for him to feel around in front of him, hit something wooden lying on the side of the road.  He knelt down and felt at it.  An old signpost.  His fingertips traced lightly over the carved words.  Among them was one that sent a nervous little shiver through him.

ZANTARIC

<I>Oh dear…</I>

A breeze swept by and with it came an evening chill.  He calculated the danger of staying in a place like Zantaric for the night then calculated the risk of staying <I>outside</I> of it, alone in the dark, and decided the village was the better bet.  How bad could it really be anyway?  Rumors were always exaggerated.  People lived here after all.  They made their lives here.  If it was livable, it had to be safe enough.  Besides, he could do with some real food and he wanted to bathe in something besides a river for a change.

At the very least, he'd found most people rarely bothered to harass a healer anyway.  His trade was evident to anyone who cared to look.  That was purposeful, so they would know to ask him if they needed help.  One look at the emblems etched into his staff and on the leather of his pack would announce his occupation.  Not to mention he had little enough to steal as it was unless someone meant to rob him of his medicinal herbs or bottle of massage oil.

Still, as he wandered the streets of Zantaric, he encountered a common problem in that he really had no way to find an inn on his own.  He would have to ask someone.  

Extending his senses outward afforded him a 'view' of the emotional states of people he passed by.  A useful trick, that.  It kept him from bothering anyone not likely to want to give directions and saved him time.

What he found in Zantaric was…a bit disconcerting.  They were drawn in on themselves in a way that said "you mind your business and I'll mind mine" that he'd not encountered before in so many people all at once.  Someone passed on his right and he raised a hand.  "Excuse me, could youâ€""

Whoever it was went on without stopping.  Haven sighed and resigned himself.  This could take awhile.

[Anonymous]

Chisien hauled the boxes of potions, physics and dried herbs behind her on a small wheeled skid, returning angry look for angry look to every person she accidentally jostled. She hoped the rope would hold; the last apprentice, after ruining the apothecary's purchases of the week, was discovered weeks later wandering the wilderness with his tongue cut out and his hands strangely paralyzed, an absolute lunatic. Then again, Chisien thought, I'm not incompetent. She had checked the rope three times and made sure she bought it from the best-quality seller. All the same, though... She cast an uneasy glance back at the skid wobbling behind her, but all looked well.

It was heavy and Chisien was well aware of the second most important danger that lay in the task: an upset passer-by stabbing her in the ribs. Her master, the apothecary, never bothered to give her any means of self-defense, so instead Chisien had to rely on her wits (or, sometimes, pretending the lack thereof) to escape scrapes. It was a thankless job, with little pay, but Chisien hoped that the rumour of the apothecary being a magician was true and that one day he would teach her how to use her own art. What else had she to live for now? Zantaric was an evil town, and she knew it, but that was where she had been born and raised and now she had to make do -- and she intended to do that by learning every  magic available.

Chisien intended to be the most powerful mage in the land, if she could. No more poverty for her, and that was for certain. She gritted her teeth and, holding that glorious thought as a beacon, trudged deeper into the crowd. When the rope finally broke the blisters on her hands, with a quick surge of power in her mind she healed them again easily.

The next person she bumped into, however, was radically different from all the spitting, glaring, furious criminals she had run into earlier. So intent on her task, Chisien almost didn't stop, instead satisfying herself with a spare glance, but then -- she sensed his magic. It revealed itself only as a small tickle in her mind, one she was unable of reading, but it did cause her to stop and it was then she noticed the engravings on his staff and pack, the blindness of his eyes, the lost but somehow benevolent way he struggled to find his bearings.

Benevolence? Now that was a strange sight in Zantaric. Chisien prided herself on being above both good and evil, focusing simply on getting her jobs done, and done well, but this man fairly reeked of goodness. Either way, he seemed safe enough, and Chisien was in no hurry to reach the master; he would not need these particular medicaments until the week next. She was eager to learn anything she could from anyone at all. Maybe, she thought, it would be for both our benefit if I helped this man out a little.

"Excuse me, sir?" Chisien tapped his shoulder so that he would know she addressed him. "My name is Chisien Dianydd, an apothecary's apprentice here in Zantaric, and I couldn't help but notice that you look a little lost. Could I help you find something? I've lived here all my life, so I'm sure to know where it is." Chisien smiled, an act that opened her face like a flower to the sun. "My only request is that you teach me a little of your magic on the way."

[Tally]

Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned in that direction.  The voice that spoke was feminine and issued from neither above nor below him, so she must have been at about his height, perhaps just a little shorter, so he looked straight on instead of up or down when he smiled.  He knew he'd find someone to help eventually.

"Chisien," he said.  "I’m Haven.  Thank you for stopping.  I am indeed lost, and I was worried I'd be stuck out here in the dead of night.  I'm afraid I've never been here before and I need to find an inn.  Preferably one that includes a bath house."

He hoped he had enough money to pay for an inn room.  It never occured to him to check.  Money was hardly something he worried about.  For the most part he tended to barter for his services, accepting food or a place to sleep for the night in place of actual payment.  It worked out fine until he found himself actually needing money.

"Teach you some magic? Ah…hm, well…"

She got right to the point, didn't she?

"We can talk about that on the way."  What could he possibly teach her in so short a time?  He supposed there were a couple little tricks that wouldn't take long.  Full night must have been close because the crowd was already thinner and the street quieter than when Haven had first entered the village.  It wasn't the kind of place to be wandering around in at night he assumed, so he nodded at Chisien.  "Lead the way and I'll follow you.  Now, about teaching you.  I'm an adept in the healing and elemental crafts.  You have the spark yourself, I see.  How much do you know and what were you looking to learn?"

He could go on and on about magecraft all day, really.  It had been the defining factor in his life since nigh the day he was born.  He'd never taught before, being so young himself, but he certainly had the patience for it and if she had the will to learn, between the two of them they could work it out.

[Anonymous]

"Absolutely," Chisien said with the warm smile of someone who has struck a good deal. "I know just the place." The Dancing Pirate, a small inn owned by one of the better denizens of the city, had a bath and a complementary breakfast -- how could anyone say no to that? She used to work there as a groom, before discovering her own magical potential. And, noticing with her observant eye his threadbare clothing, it was not an expensive place either.

"Oh, you don't have to teach me anything concrete," Chisien said as she took one of his hands and began to guide him through the meandering streets. "The theory. Your experience! How did you know? I want to be a mage one day -- that's why I'm lugging this skid around -- and I'd love to talk to anyone who actually is a mage. Please, just tell me anything you wish you had known when you started your career."

He sounded harmless enough, and Chisien knew that should he even try, she would be more than able to escape and set a gang of thugs on him. Chisien was known in her part of Zantaric for her sense of justice and, somewhat unfairly, for her ruthlessness; people tended to respect her in this part of town, despite her youth. She was a girl going places and people knew it. "I don't know much of anything, yet," she said, almost reluctantly. "I'm working for an apothecary who is said to be a mage, and I hope one day he'll trust me enough to teach me. And I'm looking to learn everything. Everything I can handle."

[Tally]

"Ah, thank you.  It sounds perfect."  A bath, a real bed to sleep in, a decent meal in the morning, and he'd be ready to go again.  Unless he actually managed to find work in this place.  With so many people getting stabbed, cursed, poisoned, and otherwise injured as there supposedly were in Zantaric, he could probably make a fortune here.

Her hand found his, and he allowed himself to be lead along, feeling the place out in the manner a sighted person might take in the style of the homes or the appearance of the people passing by.  He noted the currents of energy, their quality and strength, where they flow from and where they flow to.  The village ambiance was heavy with magic, and not the kind of magic he held with.  No, he could never live here.  It would wear on him.

So many questions she had!  He laughed in delight at her hunger for knowledge.  That hunger would be the most important thing of all if she truly wanted to perfect magecraft, and he told her as much.  "You are on the right path, then.  This desire you have to learn, it will do more to hasten the development of your craft than the best teachers in the world.  Keep that desire foremost in your heart, and what you need will come to you.  Magic is as volatile as a living thing, and it has a way of finding those who need it and want it most.  Keep your mind open always, be aware of the living power in your surroundings, in the people you meet.  It's always there and always available to you."

Ah, a skid.  So that was the noise he heard following behind them.  It never retreated nor advanced so he assumed she must have been pulling something.  He hoped he wasn't making her go out of her way too far or giving her any extra work.  But even if he were she must have considered it worthwhile or she wouldn't be helping him now.

He had been in her place before.  He remembered what it was like to know he had power, to know he wanted to use it.  Potential without knowledge, magic without method.  He thought he had a fair idea of what she needed next.

"If you're serious about this, then it's essential you put theory into practice.  To gain an intellectual understanding of the nature of magic without real tasks to perform, real techniques to master, will only teach you half of what you need to know.  Yes, the best and fastest way would be to apprentice yourself to a mage.  Have you spoken to your master about this?  Does he know you want to learn?"

Full dark was on them now, and with it the village took on a more sinister undercurrent, one that Haven barely even noticed now that he had someone to talk with to distract himself.

[Anonymous]

Where Haven sensed the malevolent magic present in Zantaric, Chisien only sensed the familiarity of home; not the stereotypical warm and loving home, certainly, but still the comforting familiarity of knowing every alley, of knowing who had been murdered in each dark corner, of knowing what perverted desires drove each lunatic they encountered or what sort of fortunes the more mundane denizens had amassed. Chisien, a born and bred Zantaric, instinctively knew the rush and throb of ambition and heartbreak that were the lifeblood of the city. It was merely a tribute to her innate and impartial sense of justice that she had not yet fallen to the lawless depths of her neighbours.

"Well, if that's the case, then magic had a hand in our meeting. Magic never leaves my thoughts," Chisien said seriously. It was true. Every action she made was for the sole purpose of achieving her goal; every dream she had revealed the potential heights she could reach, and fed the ambitious fire within her.

Hearing Haven's next words, Chisien's face fell, and she was glad that he could not see her pitiful lack of control. With some effort she forced her features back into the cool mask of the intellectual. "I know that practice is important," she said quietly. "I've tried alone, but I just don't know how." She hesitated, as if shy to admit this failure of hers. "My master has not yet taught me anything; I have tried to breach the subject with him, but he always waves me off. I sometimes think that he's--no, nevermind," she sighed. "He's the only option I have in Zantaric. The other mages are too powerful and dark and ambitious to want an apprentice to rival them in power."

Chisien maneuvered Haven and her skid through the thinning crowd, and she tried to pick up her pace to hurry them indoors to somewhere relatively safe; ordinarily, Chisien did not fear being outside after dark, so long as she kept to the lighted roads -- but with the double burden of guiding a blind man and dragging a heavy object, she reckoned she made a choice target for any thieves or worse.

[Tally]

The tails of his blindfoldâ€"just a plain strip of cloth with no adornmentsâ€"fluttered behind him as they went, and wore an easy smile as Chisien conversed with him.  He was much more at ease than he had been at first.  Part of it had been the unfamiliarity of a new place, part had been his own preconceived notion of what Zantaric would be, but it turned out the place wasn't so bad after all.

All the while they had been walking, he had been counting steps and noting turns in the back of his mind, forming a mental map of their route without really having to think about it.  Specific sounds and scents served as landmarks in his memory.  Tomorrow, he would be able to find his way back out along this same path, and should he ever return, even if it were years from now, he would still be able to find the inn again.  It was no magic ability, but simply a skill he'd had to develop to get by.  In spite of it, Chisien still had his full attention, and he nodded his agreement at her words.

"That is so.  I don’t believe in coincidence, myself.  Every occurrence has a cause and reason for happening when and where it does."  The steel in her voice when she spoke of magic communicated her ambition better than any words.  She would go far, very far.  Even having just met her he knew that.

He tilted his head to the side and 'looked' in her direction.  "As I said, what you need will come to you.  Maybe I'm here to teach you.  I've never taught before, but I can certainly give you a place to start from.  Where you go from there will be up to you.  If Zantaric can't provide, you should leave.  You should travel."  He gave a little laugh.  "But then I'm partial.  I've always been plagued by wanderlust."

The skid wheeled along behind them, and Haven felt briefly guilty that he couldn't help her with her burden, but only briefly.  In the months after his blindness, pride had driven him to attempt things he simply could not do anymore, but he'd outgrown that nonsense long since.  He faired on his own when he could and accepted help when he needed it and no longer bothered feeling self-conscious either way.

They would probably be nearing the inn soon.  "What do you think?  In the morning, after I've had decent night's sleep, we can see what you know how to do and what you can learn next.  Oh…how old are you, Chisien?"  He had no idea if he was talking to an adolescent or someone closer to his own age.  Her voice lacked the deeper resonance of a woman in her twenties, but he could never really be sure.

[Anonymous]

"Yes, and I plan on being that cause!" Chisien grinned. She did her best to tolerate others' beliefs, but all the same the notion that something other than herself controlled her actions and the results of those actions sat uneasily with her. In fact, that notion went against almost all she held dear to herself. I'll convince him yet! To Chisien, her philosophy was so blatantly obvious it was only a matter of time before the entire world accepted it as fundamental.

"Oh, teach me?" Chisien stifled a wondering gasp, her voice breathless with excitement. "Could you? Would you? I have nothing to pay you with, not even this skid I'm pulling is mine -- well, I may have enough. Name your price." The exhilaration of being so close to her goal was visible on her face and put a bounce in her hurried steps.

"Oh, but I'd love to -- and I'm old enough," she said. "You learn in Zantaric not to give out your age. Here we are; this is the Dancing Pirate."

It was old and musty and loomed over the street at an unnerving angle, but it had been there for generations and had always loomed at that angle so Chisien, never very into engineering, assumed it would continue to loom at that angle until some gang war took it down. It was one of the few buildings on the street that still had lights in the windows; although a sign of hospitality and welcome, lanterns at night also tended to be a target for vandalizers and thugs. "Best to get a room on one of the upper floors," Chisien advised, guiding Haven up the steps to the entrance. "But I have to leave you now; there's no way I can get this skid up the steps and I daren't leave it on the street. The desk is on your right as you walk in, and the innkeeper is a relatively straight man who will take you to your rooms. I'll come back tomorrow!"

As Chisien turned, a shadowy figure yanked at her arm and tried to drag her into an ally, his fingers stiff and strong as steel on her wrist. Without a shriek, or even much of a struggle beyond an awkward shuffle of feet, Chisien calmly laid a finger on his hand and sent fire burning through to his skin, the heat searing through her own body as well but at least she was prepared (and Chisien had always been tough). After a moment of stunned inaction, the man fell back with a yelp and Chisien continued down the street to her master. She glared threateningly at the dark corners around her and pushed her shoulders back with pride; the best way to conceal fear, Chisien had learned a long time ago on these dangerous streets, was to be infernally cocky.

She had been through much worse scrapes than that. "See you tomorrow!" she called back to Haven.

[Rhindeer]

It was a relatively slow night after a rather slow day at the Dancing Pirate, or at least it was by Hazel's standards. Not that he was complaining. Quite the contrary, the quiet was a blessing, not because he really enjoyed solitude but because it just meant he wouldn't have to hear too many complaints about the state of the meals here today. And as he stirred the watery stew in the old, bent-up metal pot filled with a measly mixture of leftover ingredients, he knew that if today had been a busy one that he would have never heard the end of it.

On the flip side, he rather preferred the busy days--when his cooking was actually good--because it meant more money for him and a lot of flirting with the customers. That was pretty good for business, too, and a lot of the people here seemed naturally drawn to him at times. After all, he didn't exactly look like he belonged in a shady place like Zantaric. Unlike most people who acted with caution and had a guarded look about them, he moved in a casual, careless sort of way as though oblivious to the sort of environment he lived and worked in. And while he wasn't built like a twig he also wasn't built like a tank, and with his wire-framed glasses and sandy brown hair, slightly curled and falling around his dark-skinned face...no, he looked more like an intellectual than a thug. Even though he wasn't an intellectual. He was simply nearsighted.

At least he had good hearing, with his pointed ears and all.

But despite all that, and despite looking like a pretty young man that a few people here and there had tried to take advantage of, he'd survived in Zantaric for quite some time perfectly unscathed. Looks were deceiving after all.

Humming softly to himself, he grabbed a wooden bowl and ladle and dished up a bowlful of the stuff, wrinkling his nose a little in distaste--sigh, this put his wonderful cooking skills to shame, but it wasn't his fault the innkeeper hadn't restocked. But then he remembered that he wasn't the one that was going to be eating it, so with a shrug, he stuck a little spoon in the bowl and carried it out of the kitchen and to the patron seated at the counter.

"Your steak, sir," Hazel announced with a grin and a flourish as he slid the bowl down to the man, broth sloshing over the sides. The man, an older, gruff fellow with half of his right ear missing and a crooked nose cursed loudly and dabbed at some of the liquid that had splashed onto his breeches.

"Goddammit, kid, watch it!" he snarled, folding his napkin in his lap before peering into the bowl...and growling. "What's this?" Lifting a spoon, he prodded at a piece of stringy beef floating among the shriveled vegetables in a broth that was thin and almost clear. The beef promptly sank, and Hazel couldn't help but wince. Er. Yeah. He wasn't sure beef was supposed to exactly behave like that. If it was even beef. He didn't actually know, he'd just grabbed the stuff that looked like meat and stuck it in the soup. After all, he wasn't eating it.

"I remember ordering stew, not water. When'dja get so lousy, Hazel?"

"Hey, hey, talk to the innkeep, not me. I can only use what's there!" Hazel replied with a chuckle, pushing his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose with a finger. "Besides, I distinctly remember telling you to order the--"

A scream cut off whatever he had been about to say and both he and the patron jerked their heads toward the sound. When that scream became a gurgle, Hazel cursed and bolted around the counter and took off toward the stairs.

By the time he'd reached the top of the stairs and found the woman laying sprawled half outside the door to her room, bloody foam on her lips and gurgling her last breaths, the innkeeper was at the foot of the stairs yelling up at him. "What's happening this time?! Fuck, this ain't good for business--"

"Get a healer!" Hazel shouted down at him, pressing his fingers to the woman's throat to check her pulse. "Now!"

The sounds of boots smacking against creaky, hardwood floor told him the man had obeyed.

And a quick glance around showed that no one was there to see the small brown spider skitter out of the woman's dress, across the floor, and into the safety of his pant-leg.

One more name checked off of his list.

[Tally]

"But of course.  You are the master of your own fate, as are we all.  I meant only that everything is connected, that luck and coincidence do not exist."  He'd never been one to believe in Truth with a capital T.  There were many views, many perspectives, and many philosophical paths to walk.  All were true, and all were valid, and it would never occur to him to think of any one as more correct than any other.

"Price?"  He shrugged, disinterested in the whole subject.  "Surely the act of teaching should be its own reward."  As it was so often with healing.  Anyway, she'd just said she didn't have much, so how could he accept anything from her?  "Besides, aren't you helping me now?  We'll call it a fair exchange."  Some people had issues with accepting anything for free.  She may or may not be one of those people, but hopefully she would see that he considered it an even trade.

She dodged his question about her age, but it had just been idle curiosity so he didn’t bother to press it.  He wouldn't be telling her everything about himself, either.

They halted and from his left came sounds of people in conversation and the scents of food and ale.  "The upper floors.  Got it."  His staff thumped upon wood as he climbed the stairs.  "Take care, Chisien."

Before he even had a chance to find the door handle, a scuffling sound and the unmistakable flare of channeled fire, small though it was, caught his attention back to the street.  "Chisien?"  A few moments of silence, then her voice called out again, sounding as though nothing were wrong at all.  Huh.  Must have been nothing.  He waved at her, then shrugged.

<I>I just worry too much.</I>

And right on the heels of that thought, a scream from inside the inn.

It made him jump, and he whipped his head to the side so that he might hear better, but the door muffled whatever was going on inside.  His hand quested for the handle, found it, then snatched back once again.  Footsteps pounded rapidly toward him from inside.  He had just enough time to realize he should get out of the way before the door opened and someone barreled right into him.  He slammed back into the bannister, almost lost the grip on his staff, and had to grapple at the railing to keep from tumbling backwards down the stairs.  He sank down slightly, pain hitting him, but he had no time to dwell on it.

Someoneâ€"whoever had slammed into him, he presumedâ€"grunted and grabbed his wrist.  "Maybe our luck's not so bad after all," a gruff voice said. Haven found himself in motion, dragged from the open night air outside into the stuffiness of the inn, across a wooden floor and up a flight of stairs that nearly tripped him up.  There they came to a halt, and he finally remembered to take a breath.

The same man who had dragged him up there spoke again.  "Found one right on our doorstep!"  As he said it he clapped a hand jovially to Haven's back, an act that made the healer grit his teeth and nearly crumple from pain.  His hand clenched onto the staff so hard he could feel his nails biting into the wood.

Never mind any of that.  Three auras there were, two healthy and normal, one weak and inharmonious, the aura of a body in distress.

"W…what's going on?  Tell me what happened exactly."  From the sound of the scream and the man's frantic flight to find a healer, it must have been serious.

[Anonymous]

((Sorry for the short post! Not too much time.))

Chisien heard the scream from the inn and turned around just in time to see Haven get bowled over by a huge man from the inn, only to be violently dragged inside.

"Haven!" she shouted. She dropped the ropes attached to her skid and sprinted back towards the inn. She knew within minutes the precious herbs and physics would be stolen, but Chisien had a new master now.  And her master was a blind gentleman in Zantaric, which would always mean trouble.

She pushed through the crowd by the door, scrambled up the stairs and laid a steadying hand on Haven's arm. "I'm here again," she said, her voice soft; the dead, no matter how common in this forsaken town, always commanded her respect.

Or... nearly dead. She could still detect the faint pulse of life throbbing in her small magical awareness of the world around here. In any other town she would have thought it to be an accident, rotten, evil food served in a rotten, evil inn, but this was Zantaric. There was no such thing as an accident here -- only murders. Chisien glanced at those around her: obviously it was not Haven, obviously it was not here, but the huge panting man that had dragged Haven indoors, and the slim intellectual standing beside him, were immediately listed as suspects in her mind.

It's not my business, she reminded herself. Stay out of it or you'll be next.

Instead, she described the symptoms to Haven, still keeping her hand on his arm. "She collapsed, her saliva is bubbling and bloody on her lips, her breathing is watery, weak and getting weaker, skin tone is pale and has a greenish tinge, she appears to be unconscious, and..." Chisien leaned in close to Haven's ear, not wanting the other men to hear. "Considering this is Zantaric, it's safe to assume it's foul play. Be careful. Someone wants her dead."

[Rhindeer]

[zomg so sorry it took so long. Hazel was being a stubborn bint. xD]

Hazel's head snapped up so quickly he nearly lost his glasses when the inkeeper returned, dragging some poor blind-folded guy up the stairs after him (and none too gently) and announcing that he'd "found one." Blinking several times at the pair and pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, for a moment he wanted to ask, "Found what?" before he remembered what he'd called for just moments ago. A healer. Oh right.

A healer...?

Just like that?

What were the odds...

"Thank Gods," he said shakily before standing and stepping over the fallen woman until he was behind her and out of the way at the top of the stairs, turquoise eyes moving between the blind healer and the dying woman. He gave the woman a little shake, but she didn't respond; her head lolled, her eyes rolled back in her skull, and when she breathed it sounded more like she was drowning. It wouldn't be long, though of course it would have been ideal if she hadn't screamed. She must have been arachnaphobic, because usually by the time the pain set in it was too late to scream.

"You gotta hurry, I dunno what's wrong," Hazel told the healer, chewing on his bottom lip. "I just heard the scream and came up here and she was like this, she might be sick...but that wouldn't explain the scream...I don't know...she looked healthy when she came here..."

That was when some girl came upstairs who was, from the looks of it, with the healer. And she promptly began to do what Hazel had avoided--describe the symptoms. Hazel watched the pair, nodding even though the healer couldn't see, his expression never changing to anything other than concern and a little fear. The girl was thorough, but it wouldn't matter. The woman was dead. Not literally yet, but she would be soon; already her breathing had stopped, and all that was left was her heart. Hazel wasn't worried. The venom was potent and it would have to be a damned good healer that could purge the system of that, repair the damaged lungs and tissues, and make her breathe again.

He'd like to see some low class, blind Zantaric healer do that.

[Tally]

(( it's a ginormous post, I'm so sorry ^^; ))

Haven prepared himselfâ€"wakening all of his senses, triggering a few of the enchantments in his staffâ€" while the young man told him what happened without actually telling him anything useful.

Thank the gods Chisien arrived and knew how to keep her head in a crisis.  His brows climbed up in surprise at her presumption, though, and he turned his head to speak softly into her ear.  "I'm sure it was just some kind of accident."  This was Zantaric, yes, but jumping right to murder as an explanation?

He stepped up to the wounded body, letting his pack fall to the floor beside him as he did so, and said over his shoulder to the two men, "Maintain that distance and do not speak unless I ask you a question."  His tone was altogether different than it had been.  He was a healer going about his work now, and he spoke with the air of one who expects to be obeyed.  "Chisien, sit across from me."  She may as well start observing now, whether she'd be able to follow everything or not.

Facing the wounded and with his back to the men, he sat in his usual position for magic workingâ€"crosslegged with his staff across his knees.  He opened his senses further to examine her chakras.  "Are you able to see auras, Chisien?  Chakras?  Her base, sacral, and solar plexus chakras have stopped spinning, and the others are slowing."  While he was speaking, he was also delving, speaking to her body in a way.

Unconscious.

Breathing had stopped.  

Excessive saliva, and a weak heartbeat.

First thing, she needed to breathe or her body would die before he could heal her.  The part of him not communing with her body now communed with the air.  Some mages required gestures or words of power to work their craft.  He required only his will, and it was by thought alone that he coaxed air into and out of her lungs.

The lower chakras were in most distress, so the malady had not originated in the head or chest, nor was it of a spiritual or magical nature.  He opened a channel between himself and her, feeding her chakras from his own to get them spinning again.  It felt almost like a gravitational pull.  She was very close to death, and he would have to hurry lest she drain him dry.  This was like pouring his life energy into a bottomless well.

All the while he'd been working with the chakras and forcing air into her lungs, he'd also been communing with her physical body. It was in contest with something foreign to it.

Whatever it was, it was in the bloodstream and attacking the nervous system.  That could be any number of things.  It could be something she ingested, poison perhaps or something she was allergic to.  She could have pricked herself on a toxic plant.  Something could have bit her.

He reached into his pack, navigating by feel among the notched pockets.  His hands came out with a small, shallow wooden bowl and a knife.  These he held out to Chisien.  "Search her body for a bite or wound of some kind.  Cut away her clothing if you have to.  It may be very small, so look carefully.  Look for a place that is slightly red or even swollen."  He had no idea how much Chisien knew of bites, so he gave her full instructions.  If he were telling her things she already knew, he counted on her to take it in stride.  "If you find something, cut an incision near it, a quarter of an inch deep and one inch wide.  Catch some of her blood in the bowl.  Search her legs and arms first."  Most bites occurred on the limbs.

To the two men behind him he said, "I don't suppose you've had a problem with any insects or animals in here?  Snakes, spiders, lizards?  Anything?"

All of it, from the time he sat down to the time he asked his last question, had taken less than a minute.

Her heart stopped then and calmlyâ€"for getting frantic never helped anyoneâ€"he reached a hand over her chest and located the organ.  Electricity sparked from his middle finger downward.  Once, twice…a third time and her heart started again.

A cold sweat had broken out on his forehead from the effort of keeping her breathing, monitoring her current state, and feeding his prana into her.  He triggered more enchantments in his staff, and it would look blurry and slightly luminescent to those with sight. While Chisien searched, he pulled some small vials from his pack.  Whether she found a bite or found nothing at all, he was prepared for the next step.

[Tally]

continuance >> not such a bad place after all