Moon Glade

Surprise

"Somebody... help me..." Wailed the large man, slumped in a small alcove barely visible from the crowded market street.

Rows and rows of small stalls lined the street, stuffed to the brim with every item imaginable. The abundance of shops forced the river of buyers to walk down various narrow pathways, desperately trying to navigate to the stall they needed. For many visitors the market was a maze of stuffy air, carrying the smell of incense, rancid meat and earthy vegetables, but for locals and pickpockets it was an organized chaos of hidden passageways and tourists with ripe wallets.

The incessant rain descended on to the market street, sending the crowds of creatures of all races into a frenzy trying to find cover for their purchased goods. Shopkeepers yelled helplessly as the herds of creatures poured into their already overflowing stalls in a bid for cover.

Although the market street was a bustling hive of activity, nobody stopped to help the injured man. If there wasn't a profit to be made or a bargain to be had most market-goers weren't interested. 

Adrenaline pumped through my body as I approached him, I felt the familiar tingle in my fingertips and palms that always came before I used magic. 

I knelt down on the muddy floor next to the man, examining his injuries. There was a large slash across across his chest, and dark blood was flowing excessively from the wound. 

"I was mugged." He stuttered, his face pale and his body shaking. 

"I'll try my best." I nodded to him, placing my hands over his wound and trying to concentrating. 

I wasn't an experienced healer. At the age of only fifteen, I had worked at my families farm my whole life. All healing magic I had attempted had been through instinct, something inside me always calling out to help when seeing an injured farm animal.

I tried to block out the sounds around me, the sound of rowdy bars and their loud live music, the sound of muddy hooves running through puddles followed by the barrage of carriages in the distance, the sound of nearby market stalls trying to cover their goods from the heavy rain with large waterproof sheets.

Pressing on the wound, I focused the tingling energy in my palms on the injury. I knew I needed to concentrate for my magic to work but I was distracted by the constant hum of the market and it's inhabitants.

My family owned a remote farm on the edge of town so my parents always travelled here for shopping and selling. This was my first time in such a busy place alone and I was overwhelmed.

As I opened my eyes, with the tingling gone, I thought I had managed to heal the wound in time, but I had been too late. The man's head had slumped back against the wall and he stared at me with cold, glassy, dead eyes. 

The wound had healed, but not before he had bled out. 

I felt frozen in time, paralyzed by my helplessness. I had never seen a person die before. I was furious that I could have saved him, if only I could have acted quicker and concentrated harder. 

A hooded figure in a black robe knelt on the muddy cobblestoned floor next to me. In my paralyzed state, I could not turn and see them properly, but their presence instantly gave me a feeling of relief, thankful that I wasn't alone.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the hooded figure reached out their pale, elegant hand and gently close the man's eyes. 

The skies had darkened dramatically, the clouds now a dense grey frame for the blue evening sky. The dismal rain was heavy and only the lights from closing-down stalls illuminated the street. 

Forcing myself out of shock, I turned slowly to face the mysterious figure. I felt empty inside, as if a strong gust of wind could blow me over, any conversation would be a comfort, something to latch onto that wasn't my own thoughts.