The Healer ✔

Chapter Fourteen

Elora's eyes hurt from lack of sleep. It had been two days since they had parted ways with Elizabeth and her group. They were well on their way to Planina. They had finally moved away from the cliffs and the ocean, the salty smell slowly fading from the air.

She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. Zlohiel had found them in the middle of the night and didn't stop coming until the sun began to rise. It had been the worst night since the Gate had opened. None of them had slept since the first monster attacked them not long after sunset.

All four of them walked with bags under their eyes, bodies slumped and feet dragging through the grass and dirt. The ground was still yet with the morning dew and it squelched loudly under their feet. They had been walking for so long that Elora had begun to hate the sound.

They hadn't seen any other standing villages since the last one they'd met Elizabeth in. They had passed by one town, but it was in ruins, much like the rest of the realm. They didn't even bother going through it, only walked by with haunted expressions on their tired faces. There was nothing they could do.

Now though, Elora could see the beginnings of a forest on the horizon. Dark green trees dotted the land, tempting the demigod with the idea of safety and shelter. Without speaking a word, the group headed towards it. The forest would lead up into the mountains, it would just take some time.

They hadn't been told where exactly the survivors were holding up, which made Elora assume they were spread out through Planina. She could only guess that most of them would be with the princess near the castle. She could easily find it, having been there many times before. Planina never changed much over the years.

Her father had been whispering to her constantly since they left the other town. He never seemed to be able to make up his mind about whether or not she was doing the right thing. He wanted her to go to Planina, to fight Gaizma but continued to tell her that she was a screwup, that she couldn't fix anything. She didn't know what she was meant to do.

She didn't dare tell Nyal anything Yararanje was saying, lest he grows angrier than he already was. She didn't want to see what would happen if he did. He had changed since the Gate had opened, not by much, but enough for her to notice. He used to get sucked up in the nature around him and was always smiling about something. He was a friendly person, always wanting to help.

Now, he was angrier, sadder. She couldn't blame him for it, but he worried her. He never looked awed by anything he saw now, only looked at it like it was something he had lost a long time ago. It was her fault he was like it, her fault that Riba and Voda were gone. All she could do now was make sure the rest of the realm was safe so that she could see the happy awestruck look on his face again.

She would defeat Gaizma during the battle the people of Planina were organising. She had time to grow stronger, to be the demigod she had once been, so long ago. She had defeated Gaizma once, she could do it again, despite what the dragon had told her.

Nyal and the others would help her, as much as they could. Nyal was the dragon's one weakness, and most likely the only other Healer left in existence. She could only assume the other two were already dead, one was an old man and the other was only a child. She couldn't imagine either of them surviving long enough to be of any help.

The Healers had died out so quickly during the first war with the Zlohiel. There had been so many of them, enough to fill an army. They had made battles against the dragons much easier than they normally would have been. But they were targeted and killed before they ever had to chance to rise to their full potential.

There weren't many that survived the war, and a lot died of sickness and injury afterwards, leaving the population to grow ever smaller. They found out not long after that that the ability to heal was not a genetic one and was instead given to those the Gods chose.