The healers heart

Chapter 5

Elena was stirred from sleep by the gentle rasp of Thistle's tongue against her hand. The black cat purred softly, her warm breath brushing against Elena's fingers as she continued her persistent licking. Elena blinked her eyes open, momentarily disoriented by her surroundings, but the events of the previous day came flooding back in an instant. Her gaze flew to the bed where the stranger lay.

The man was still there, his body still, his face more relaxed in sleep than it had been the night before. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, a welcome sight after the shallow, ragged breathing he had struggled with when she first found him. Relief washed over Elena as she realized that, for now, he seemed stable.

She stretched her arms, feeling the dull ache of her muscles from her long night of care, and stood from the chair where she had fallen asleep. Her eyes swept over the room, and she moved quietly to his bedside, where the damp cloth she had placed on his forehead the night before had warmed and dried. With practiced ease, Elena dipped it in the basin of cool water, wringing it out before carefully wiping his forehead and neck.

As she reached to replace the cloth with a fresh one, his eyes fluttered open.

Elena froze, her breath catching. For a moment, his gaze was unfocused, confused as though he wasn't sure where he was or what had happened. He stirred, his muscles tensing as he tried to sit up, but almost immediately, he winced in pain, his body jerking from the sharp flash that shot through his abdomen and leg.

"Easy," Elena soothed, her voice soft but firm. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving further. "You're injured. Don't try to move just yet."

His eyes found hers, and for a moment, there was only confusion and pain in his gaze. Then, slowly, he seemed to realize where he was. His breathing steadied, but the tension in his body remained. His brow furrowed as he took in his surroundings—the small, herb-scented room, the bandages across his abdomen, the splint on his leg.

"I—" he began, but his voice came out hoarse and dry. He swallowed and tried again. "I'm... thirsty."

Elena smiled, relieved that he was conscious enough to communicate. She quickly reached for the pitcher of fresh water on the table, pouring some into a small cup. She held it to his lips carefully, tipping it gently so he could drink without straining.

He took a few sips, closing his eyes in gratitude as the cool water soothed his dry throat. When he had drunk his fill, he leaned back against the pillow, his breathing still labored but less painful than before.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice still rough.

"You're welcome," Elena replied, her tone soft as she set the cup aside. "You're safe now."

He looked like he was about to ask more, but Elena quickly reached for the tincture she had prepared. "You need to rest. Let me give you something for the pain."

He didn't resist as she helped him take the painkiller tincture—a few more sips of the water laced with willow bark and lavender. His muscles seemed to relax after that, his head sinking back into the pillow as the mixture took effect.

"Rest now," Elena said gently, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "You're safe here."

His eyelids fluttered closed, and he drifted back into a light sleep, the pain fading as the herbs worked their magic. Elena watched him for a moment longer, making sure his breathing was steady before standing from the bedside.

Outside, the morning air was crisp and cool, and Elena took a deep breath as she stepped into the sunlight. The village was still quiet at this early hour, and the peaceful stillness of the day washed over her, bringing with it a sense of calm after the whirlwind of the last day.

She made her way down the small path behind her cottage, heading toward the river just a few feet away. The gentle sound of flowing water always soothed her, and today she needed that comfort. The weight of everything—finding the stranger, treating his wounds, the worry she must have caused—was beginning to press on her.

As Elena approached the riverbank, she saw a familiar figure moving through the trees. Mara appeared, walking briskly toward her, her expression a mixture of concern and relief.

"Elena! There you are," Mara called out as she hurried over. "I've been looking for you."

Elena set down her bucket, wiping her hands on her apron as she turned to face her friend. "Mara? What are you doing here?"

Mara stopped in front of her, catching her breath. "We were so worried about you! Rowan came back to the village last night, looking like he'd been through a storm. He said he saw you cross the barrier, into the deep forest. He tried to go after you, but the forest wouldn't let him—he said it pushed him out somehow. When he couldn't find you, he rushed back to the village to get help."

Elena's brow furrowed, a mixture of guilt and surprise settling over her. "He... he tried to cross the barrier?"

Mara nodded, her expression serious. "Yes. Rowan gathered a small group of men, and they went searching for you, but no one dared to cross the barrier. Everyone was afraid of what might happen if they did. He told them what he saw, but after hours of searching, they couldn't find you. They thought you were gone."

"I'm so sorry, Mara," Elena said softly, guilt gnawing at her. "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I didn't expect to be gone that long."

Mara placed a hand on Elena's arm, her turquoise eyes filled with concern. "What happened? Rowan said the forest wouldn't let him follow you, and when you didn't return by nightfall, we feared the worst. Where did you go?"

Elena took a deep breath, the weight of the past day pressing on her again. "I... I found someone. A man, deep in the forest. He was injured—badly. I couldn't leave him there, so I brought him back to my cottage."

Mara's eyes widened in shock. "A man? In the forest, beyond the barrier? Who is he?"

"I don't know," Elena admitted. "He hasn't told me anything yet. He was unconscious when I found him, barely alive. The forest... it helped me bring him back. I've never seen anything like it."

Mara's concern deepened, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You need to tell the village chief about this, Elena. Rowan and the others will be relieved to know you're safe, but if there's a stranger beyond the barrier, it could mean danger for the village."

Elena nodded, though her thoughts remained on the man—his sharp features, the strange magic that had surrounded him. "I will. I just... I want to make sure he's stable first. He's still weak, and I don't know if he can even tell us who he is yet."

Mara squeezed her arm gently. "You did the right thing, helping him. But promise me you'll tell the chief soon. The village needs to know about this."

"I promise," Elena replied, giving her friend a small smile. "Thank you, Mara."

Mara's worry softened into a small smile. "I'll let the others know you're back and safe. But be careful, alright?"

"I will," Elena said, watching as Mara turned and began walking back toward the village.

As Elena stood by the river, the cool breeze brushing against her skin, she couldn't help but feel the weight of what Mara had said. The village would need to know about the stranger, but for now, all Elena could think about was making sure he survived the next few days.

When Elena returned to the cottage, the room was quiet, filled only with the steady sound of the stranger's breathing. She set down the bucket of fresh water and approached the bedside once again.

He had drifted back into a deep sleep, his face peaceful, the tension gone from his brow. His body was still, the pain dulled by the herbs she had given him, and for the first time since she had found him, Elena felt a small flicker of hope. He was recovering, slowly but surely.

As she stood by the bed, watching over him, a sense of calm settled over her. There was still much she didn't know—about him, about what had drawn him so deep into the forest—but those questions would have to wait.

For now, all that mattered was that he was safe.