Champion's Call

Chapter 8

Vairenye woke with a start, her head spinning. For a brief moment she nearly panicked at her strange surroundings, before the memories of the day before came flooding back to her. The memories were rapidly followed by a splitting headache. She stifled a groan, rubbing her forehead.

If this is what happens after I use magic, I should probably learn some healing spells. She half-laughed to herself. Not that Deep Magic is known for its healing abilities. Oh, just to have any connection to the Great Wild...

"Here, drink this." 

Avalea's soft tones broke through Vairenye's cluttered thoughts. Giving herself a little shake, she straightened herself up and took the cup from the priestess. Her eyebrows shot up with surprise when the aroma of the tea inside reached her nostrils.

"This is Da's special healing tea," she said. "He doesn't sell it in the shop. We didn't have time to get anything before we left - how did you get this?"

Avalea half-smiled. "I am a priestess of the goddess of prophesy, dear."

Vairenye frowned. "I thought that visions from Morgutha were always vague and open to interpretation?"

Avalea smiled cryptically. "Generally they are. But there are always exceptions."

Somehow, Vairenye knew that she wasn't going to get any further detail at the moment. So instead she took a deep drink of the tea, savoring the soothing feeling it spread throughout her body. The only pain that remained was the one in her heart from leaving her home - and she knew that was not something any tea could fix.

While she drank, Avalea put a small pile of clothing in front of her. "These should be the right size for you," she said, resting one delicate hand on the top of the stack. "I suspect that you'll be wanting to change out of what you're wearing."

Vairenye glanced down at her clothes and grimaced. They could probably still be worn, if properly laundered and mended, but as it was right now they were covered in dirt and tears from her encounter in the jungle. Yes, a change of clothes would definitely be needed.

"Thank you," Vairenye said, reaching for the pile.

Avalea's hand didn't move off of the stack. The look on her face was somewhere between sadness and pity - neither of which Vairenye particularly cared for.

"How much has it spread?"

Vairenye looked away, ashamed. The question shouldn't have surprised her, since Avalea had known about the markings from the first time they started appearing. Mam had consulted with the priestess that year when the caravan came through town, hoping that someone from outside might be able to help her afflicted daughter.

I'm a plant with no roots. Of course I'm wilting.

Without a word, Vairenye slipped out of her tunic and pants, standing awkwardly exposed in her underthings in the middle of the wagon. A dark band of brown wrapped around her middle, extending up to just under her breasts and down to the tops of her thighs, splotchy and patchy toward the edges. This was ringed by a lighter brown, which went up almost to her collarbones and spread from her elbows up and down her arms. A yellowish band, thinner and even more splotchy, extended from there. It was very much like the pattern one would see on the leaves or stalk of a plant afflicted by some terrible blight. If anyone in her village had seen her like this, that would have been their exact thought. Their history told them that their ancestors came to this place because Blight had devastated their old homeland - and that they only survived by literally burning out any Blighted that they found in the many, many centuries since.

Avalea looked her over, then nodded and handed her the clothes. "You know that it isn't Blight," she said sympathetically, as if she had read Vairenye's mind.