Love and Other Magical Adventures

two

Sylvie reached up to unwrap her head scarf and tangled red curls the color of a strawberry fell loose. My attention however was on her wincing in pain at the movements, and I rummaged around in my satchel.

"I have this salve," I offered, showing her the jar made of blue glass. "It will heal wherever it is placed." I held it toward her and she hesitated, her hair like flames framing her cautious face. "Please," I added. Had my magic not been drained by the earlier battle I would have easily returned her skin to its unmarred state in moments, but didn't want to wait for it to recharge.

She relented, rising to take it from me. "Thank you." She set it in her place and gestured to the nearby water. "I'm going to wash."

Feebur followed her but I called him back and he boinged onto my pack, settling with a satisfied booping sound as I pet him.

Not far from us, Sylvie removed and folded her outer clothing, placing it neatly into a pile on the bank. In her underclothes, she waded into a small pool that had formed in the creek until she was submerged, remaining under long enough we began to grow alarmed.

Finally the surface broke and she flipped her hair out of her face, sinking down in the cold stream again. I imagined all the water in the universe wouldn't wash away the years of imprisonment.

However replenishing, it was also chilly, and she soon rejoined us. I was ready with a fluffy, warm towel, fresh from my invisible magic storage room. It didn't exist in our world and we weren't sure exactly where it did exist, but as I was the only one with access to it, it mattered not.

She took the towel and wrapped it around herself with a nod of thanks. It automatically dried whatever it touched, and a hint of surprise escaped her.

Grim mentally snorted. Show off.

Mind your own business, I retorted. Okay, so I was maybe showing off a tiny bit. But damn if I didn't want to impress her.

I watched in my peripheral vision as she spread the towel and sat cross-legged on it with the blue container. She twisted the cap off and brought it to her nose to breathe in the faint but irresistible scent of my favorite flower. "That's lovely."

You're lovely, I wanted to say, and could feel Grim mentally shaking his head at me with mirth.

"It works even better than it smells," I said lightly, wishing she would use it already and alleviate her suffering. "And will erase scarring, if you so choose."

The thought gave her pause as a drop of water traced a path down her cheekbone. She dipped a finger into the medicine and smoothed the cream onto her wrist, covering a two-inch wound with angry edges. "Oh," she said, the pale icy cerulean of relief radiating from her as she watched the cut heal and then disappear completely. She glanced up at me with wide eyes, words unnecessary, and I smiled in return. She hurriedly applied more of it, until she had done all the areas she could reach. Her skin was now smooth, unmarked; she had chosen not to keep her scars.

If only the unseen ones could be undone so quickly.

"There are no words to thank you enough," she told me in her scratchy voice, stretching her arms luxuriously before picking up the pants. "I have not been in such a painless state since I was but a babe."

"It's truly my pleasure," I said. Taking away pain was surely what I had been created for; the very thing that gave my life meaning as a healer. I wasn't sure how adverse to skin contact she may be after captivity so my next words came out as a question. "If you like, I can do your back?"

She considered before nodding in concession, pulling her dry hair over one shoulder to bare it. Her ears were noticeably pointed, which I found endearing.

You are hopeless, Grim sent me, amused, and we both knew he was right.

I joined her, kneeling at her side and taking the little jar in my hand. Feebur bounced around us gleefully before settling in her lap. "If this is too much, I probably have adequate power now to do it with a single touch instead." Holding on to me while flying was different than this more intimate situation, and I had her comfort level foremost in my mind.

"I do not mind this way," she said, bracing herself and turning away from me as I readied the ointment.

It was even worse to see the handful of scars and lesions up close. On her left shoulder blade was a long-healed insignia and I realized she had been branded, like a herd animal. Chills rose goosebumps all over my body at the horror of it. I brought the cream to her skin there first to eradicate the grotesque initials, with the lightest touch. Still she twitched, steadying herself with a deep, shaky breath.

"Okay?" I asked, waiting, trying not to let my heartbreak show in my voice.

She nodded and swallowed, hugging her knees, and this time had no reaction when I began once more other than to slowly release the breath she held. I couldn't help but infuse the balm with some serenity, and made sure to use it on what had previously been permanent marks.

While many people learned to guard their feelings well, pain was not generally included in that, and I could sometimes feel someone else's strong emotions when touching them. It was possible for me to pick up on memories in a similar way as well, and the ones coming from her fueled a hatred I had long held for such terrible people. My nose stung, my sight blurring as I received flashes of the glowing red iron letters coming closer and closer, drunken male laughter in the background.

I tucked my anger away though, breathing deeply and trying to concentrate on giving off positive vibes. It was easy to get caught up in the helplessness I felt against the evil in the world, but we took solace in knowing we did all we could to fight it and repair the damage caused by it.

Almost done, Grim thought to me, quelling enough of the fury and sorrow that I could continue. You've got this.

When I was finished I surreptitiously wiped my face, then capped the liniment and returned to my bedroll. "You're all set," I said unnecessarily, preparing to do my meditation. Feebur's oddly loud snore rumbled around us. Grimmer had produced his ukulele and sat strumming softly, adding to the tranquility of the fireside.

"You have my gratitude," she told me as she pulled on her pants, her easy movements now full of a grace that had also been freed. Her fingers, the nails ragged, deftly wove her hair into a braid halfway down her back, after which she went through a series of stretches.

You're staring, Grimmer sent me, following it with a wink.

I looked away, hoping she hadn't noticed. Leave it to me to do something socially unacceptable. How could I not? My heart beat faster than was warranted. We've never known anyone like her. But it was more than that. She tugged at my mind, and my heart; I wished to soften the world for her, provide a place for peace to perhaps find her.

If such a thing remained possible.

He sighed knowingly as I put out a mat and our softest blanket for her and then sat near him on my own bedroll. It wasn't cold enough to merit setting up a tent. She's probably quite broken, he warned, as if that would change anything for me.

We'll do what we can, I answered. We had rescued and helped rehab many beings, with several successes and our fair share of fails. This was our first person.

At least I knew something about being broken.