Healer

Chapter 13

     Talia was always a compassionate female. Even as a child, she was always bringing frogs and spiders and small animals into the house to nurse them back to health. Her mother would just laugh and tell her, "Always be a helper, Talia. People will always be looking for helpers." Many times in her life, her mother had repeated the statement. She had known her daughter would be gifted, she had waited and watched oh so carefully for the first signs. She used to say, "Healing is the most natural gift, baby. Healing is a powerful extension of your own empathy, and your own love for those around you." Love. Something Talia hadn't felt from another being in a long time. Yet, she always managed to tap into it deep inside herself when someone needing her gifts lay before her. She had come back to her room and slid into bed. It was early in the evening still, but she needed rest. And to be alone. But she laid with her eyes wide, facing her window, unable to rest. She had been used so many times in her life. By the only man she had loved when he made a fortune selling her to that pimp in their village. She had been used by the priestesses that cashed in on her ability to stitch up their black magic mistakes. By the males in the Hybern military when they were thirsty for the body of a female. She had learned to resent her gift, that the fae world wanted so badly to use her, to experiment with her apparently rare talent. She had often thought of what it might be like to be plain, ungifted, to roam the land with nothing to be taken and used. She pulled her blankets tight around her. Hearing the high lord offer her a position with his court, for pay, offering her time to think, to make a true decision for herself, had put a flame of hope into her that she hadn't thought would ever burn again. The possibility of using her gift for good, rather than using it against her will under the threat of torture or death was more than she would have ever asked. Plus the ability to continue learning and growing her skills. Something she had thought she was getting with Hybern, but she had quickly realized they were feeding her something she didn't want to learn at all. This offer from the night court felt genuine. It felt promising. It felt far too good to be true. They had assured her that it was not repayment, but would it exist if she had failed? The question rang through her mind over and over again until she fell asleep.

She was already crying as she stood, staring down the forest path. She knew what was at the end and sadness draped over her shoulders like a heavy, wet blanket. She refused to move forward, to have to watch the scene again. She sat herself down on the rocky ground, until the sadness pressed on her so hard that she felt herself struggle to breathe. She had to move. Slowly, slowly she dragged her feet forward until she was standing in that clearing, smelling the gore in the heat of the midday sun. The sky was bright but darkness seemed to fill her anyway. This time she did not run, and this time she was alone on the battlefield. Slowly she walked forward, and the cage in the center of the field came in to view. The carnage seemed centered there, and she hadn't been able to see it past the monster and his prey in her dreams before. But it was the one she knew, the one she had awoken inside of when the Hex took her. Azriel was in there. Her pace quickened. If she was on the outside, then maybe she could break him out. They could leave together. As she neared the bars that held him in, the ground became more and more difficult to traverse, bodies and body parts littering any path forward. Her stomach turned over and over but she refused to think about what she was seeing. He began to come in to view. She could see the shape of him through the dark bars. She tried to call his name but she couldn't, no sound came. She began to panic. Suddenly, he stood and walked to the wall of his cage, grasping the bars and looking out. She had forgotten how ragged he had looked. She tried to say his name again, she tried to get his attention but still, she couldn't. She stopped attempting to yell for a moment as she noticed his eyes trained on something behind her, his mouth moving. She couldn't hear him either. Slowly, painfully, she turned toward where he was looking. The grey winged monster stood so close to her that she could smell his putrid stench. She could see the yellow-green of his eyes. He was speaking to Azriel with a cool smile, but she couldn't hear his voice. Dread twisted her gut with a cold hand as she looked to his left. She could feel the fear rolling off the skin of the shaking female. She wore a simple grey dress that had been ripped nearly to shreds and she stood steady in bare feet. Feet. Talia kept staring at the female's dirty, bare feet. Scars laced her right ankle and calf. Familiar, deep scars. Slowly, slowly, she raised her eyes to the girl's face. A face she hadn't even bothered to watch since it had been invisible to her before. But it wasn't now. The face, despite the fear Talia could smell, was unreadable, even as tears streamed down it. This female looked strong and calm even in her distress, this last stand a defiant one. And the face was hers. She barely even blinked as those clear nails pierced her, Talia's, neck and her mirror image dropped to her knees.