The Call of Nys #5 (Waverly Stump and The 7 Realms)

24- J U D S O N

Whilst Gzrel worked to cleanse Ayariel of the stains of the Dark Haul, Judson studied him.

The man's appearance might have fooled others into thinking he was no more than an ordinary wretched fellow, but something about the way his eyes could see without looking; the sharpness in his senses, screamed age – unnumbered age. He bent over Ayariel's unconscious frame, mumbling strange words into her ear that she occasionally twitched in response to. Before that, he first cooked up a mixture to rinse her hands and feet with; stuck sprigs in between her toes, drenched her face with oil and held burning incense close to her nose. A common healer would have attempted pouring medicine down her throat instead.

But Gzrel's method looked older, more powerful and efficient to a divine degree.

"You are immortal." Judson unknowingly mumbled as the deduction settled in his mind.

Gzrel turned to look at him and lifted thin stretches of eyebrows. "Eh?"

The more he pondered it was the more all facts pointed to sense. Gzrel's camp – an inconspicuous cavern tucked away in the rocks – was located where Judson could have passed by a million times without recognizing as shelter. Inside, he kept large pots of soil from which strange plants grew; a natural spring laid at the very end of the cavern with a basin – hollow and concave to hold its water. Next to that were cut logs piled high in seven different places and just enough to build an entire cabin should Gzrel desire to. In between the folds of a plain white fleece laid stored blankets, clothes, and a tiny box containing ground incense. Judging from the environment and how distant the forest was from his cavern, Judson thought it odd that Gzrel's shelter contained nearly all that he needed to survive the harsh environment around him – more proof that the old man was not exactly all he was rumored to be.

From Judson's seating position - a square cut boulder next to four others - he tried to identify the faint yet tangible aura that he sensed each time Gzrel walked past.

"You're one of them." He guessed, hoping he was right.

Gzrel grunted. "One of what, boy?"

"Gods. Your presence is not only divine, it is also ancient. . ." He frowned. "though fainter than it should be."

The old man humphed and spared a brief glance. "And what does your sudden brilliant realization tell you?"

Judson sank forward. "Nothing, other than that the sole reason why no man has ever set eyes on you is because you are not mortal. Only a god can be self-sufficient as this. Only a god can will himself to not be seen at all by any and every eye. You have never wished to be found."

Gzrel stared a few moments, then continued his business quietly. Judson's back was drowning in pain, though the relief of finding The Grump was too great and made him forget all about it, until he straightened and felt his bones ignite with alarming heat. A sharp wince from him drew Gzrel's attention.

"Here," the old man came to smear something cold against the protuberances in his back. "Aches are a nuisance. I should know. It will help."

After Gzrel was done, Ayariel no longer looked ashen. Color returned to her face again though her lips stayed white and chapped, as did her fingernails.

"The girl is internally weak," The old man revealed, rinsing his hands. "In her soul. I have done what I can, but she needs more exposure to her natural source of life. These frail little things depend on the sun for strength and nutrition. It can fix her mechanism better though at a slow pace. You need to be patient."

Judson nodded. "Thank you, Gzrel."

"I have only paid that which I must." Gzrel humphed, gathering food from a corner. Yellow lights hung on the stone walls that came from fireflies – big ones from the looks of them.