LUCI

Hope

"The crops are dying while the King wages his stupid war for power!"

The man on the stage stands in dirty rags like the rest of us, mud coating is worn out boots and soot smeared across his face. The crowd that has gathered listens closely, holding onto every word.

"Our people are dying while he sits back and watches!" He continues, "we can not just allow this to happen! We can not just wait to die!"

The burlap sack is placed over his head just like the others on the stage as he continues shouting. His words persist even as the noose is placed around his neck and tightened.

"We will not wither into the dirt! We will not watch our children be sent off to a war that is not theirs to fight!"

The hangman pulls the lever, dropping the platforms beneath the seven men that stand before us.

The man's shouting is silenced.

I listen to the quiet sobs of the wives and children of the men, thanking the fates that they had not tried to stop the hanging in their grief. There did not need to be more ropes on the stage.

The crowd is dismissed, allowing everyone to return to their work or to tend to their children.

"That's the third hanging this month," Elain whispers, coming quickly to my side, "we have to do something."

"You know very well why we can't," I hiss through gritted teeth.

She sighs as we make our way through the village, heading for the medical cabin.

There's a small line waiting outside,  some already presenting their injuries as we approach in hopes to be tended to faster.

"You take the third, I'll take the first," I direct, noting that they were the ones in the worst condition.

The man in front takes a few steps towards me, holding his very bruised and swollen arm out to me.

"Please, my arm -"

I cut off the man.

"You all know the rules," I speak loudly to be heard over the bagging people, "we tend to the worst first."

I nod to the man before me and allow him to follow me into the cabin as Elain becons the man with the bandaged, bleeding hand in as well.

"What happened?" I ask the man, gesturing for I'm to sit on the small table.

"I was plowing the field with my horse," he starts as I get the herbs I need to reduce his pain, "the dirt is too rough to plow anymore. I was just tryna get the horse to move, so I started tugging on the plow to give him some help."

"You were kicked?" I begin to grind the herbs.

"Yes, ma'am," he nods, "a rock came loose and hit my horse. It spooked him, so he kicked and ended up hitting me."

I sprinkle the crushed herbs into small vials and add moon water to them. I place the vials into a small bag, keeping one out and placing it aside.

I approach the injured man, taking his arm gently in my hands. I squeeze slightly to feel for any breaks as I slowly make my way up his arm.

"How long has it been since you've been able to use real magic?" He asks quietly.

It's not normally a question I would like to answer, but I understand that he's only trying to distract himself from the pain.

"Six years," I reply, still focusing on his arm.

"So you were one of the first ones caught," I can hear the sympathy in his voice.

"I'm just glad I wasn't caught before then."

Witches; once feared and burned at the stake when discovered, now praised as saviors for helping the sick and injured, but branded to tell the whole kingdom.

The man Elain tends to begins to groan loudly in pain.

With a glance over, I see that he is strapped to the chair with a leather bit in his mouth to clamp down on as Elain places the red hot iron to his injured hand. Being closer now, I can see that he's lost some of his fingers.

I return my attention to the man at my table.

"Do you miss it?"

"Hm?" My eyes find his.

"Do you miss being able to use magic?"

I look back at his arm, continuing to check for breaks as I think.

"Sometimes," I answer truthfully.

I never did much with my magic, just healing a few minor injuries here and there, and using small displays of strength to ward off bandits and such from the village I grew up in.

"Did you really dance in the forests naked like the stories?" He groans as I reach his shoulder.

I chuckle a bit.

"No," I remove my hands and grab a lether bit from the wall as well as the vial i set aside, "but some did. Drink."

I hand him the vial and present the bit to him,  allowing him to bite down after he's taken the medicine.

"I'm going to relocate your shoulder," I take a small step back, "please lay down."

He shifts and lays down so that his injured arm is facing me.

"Make sure the bit is comfortable in your mouth, and keep your tongue away from your teeth," I begin to strap him down at his waist, giving him a chance to use his good arm to adjust the bit before stapping him down at the chest.

"This is going to hurt," I round the table and stap his good arm down before placing a wooden block in his hand, "and you will still be in pain afterwards, but it will heal in time. I will be giving you vials to take with you to aid in that healing process and reduce some of the pain. There will be a full moon in four nights, place the vials in the moon light to allow the medicine to strengthen. Understood?"

He nods as I return to his injured arm.

"Deep breath."

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply as I pull his arm roughly.

A scream emits from his throat as his legs begin to kick from the pain.

I pull again, this time in a slightly different direction to get the bone to go back to its proper position.

I remove my hands and give him a moment to relax before unstrapping him fully and taking the bit from his mouth.

"Lay still for a moment."

He does as he's told as I prepar a sling for his arm, and Elain brings in a woman with her child who hadn't been in line before.

The child's head is crudly bandaged and partly saturated in red.

"Lucial," the woman speaks to me, "the guards. They did this to my baby. He was just playing, he didn't mean to trip him."

She's in tears, clutching her child in shaking arms.

"He'll be alright," I say calmly, then turn to Elain, "there should be some yarrow in the cabinet along with supplies to stitch it up if you need it.

It might be a small injury, but everyone in the village knows that children take first priority.

I return to the man.

"If you could," he mutters softly, "would you use your magic to stop them? To stop this war?"

"Even if I could," I help him to sit up while he holds his arm in place, "my magic wouldn't be strong enough to end the war, or stop the King."

"But if it was?"

He stares into my eyes, a small sliver of hope residing in his gaze.

"Then there would never have been a war in the first place."