The Quest

Chapter 1

~Di~

Di stood inside of a poor man's home. She could see evidence of his wife's love and work scattered around. It was a small cottage that held a plain table, four chairs, a large bed, and a stove as furniture; there was also a pile of hay with an old quilt lying on it in one corner and small pillows and tapestries—all made by the same hard-working hand strewn about the place. Di knew children slept on the hay instead of beds and the chairs were rickety but that didn't stop the place from having its own charm as humans often made with homes.

The man lay on the bed, feverish and sweaty. His wife, Halia, wrung her hands as she stood by the table, watching Di unveil the contents of her basket. Di put a hand on the man's chest to feel his heart beat—it was fast. She checked his left arm for the wound she'd bandaged only two days prior.

"Why didn't you call sooner?" Di asked Halia. As she did, he grumbled and moved to sit up. She laid a hand on his shoulder to push him back and quiet him. All men are idiots, she thought. Sensing his reluctance to show weakness only made her irritated and reminded her of her own husband. Just one more patient after this and then I must see Matis.

"We wasn't sure 'twas serious." Halia's lower lip trembled as she spoke.

Di sighed but nodded. If only my own husband was bedridden. Perhaps then I could talk some sense into him. Di looked back at the man, Corinth. His arm was slightly red and still inflamed but it looked like the inflammation was going down. She raised her hand and let a light emit, running it from his shoulder to his fingers. And there's the infection! Di smiled to herself as her magic clung onto the reddest part of his arm, so red it was nearly purple. The rest was lightly inflamed around it. She cast another light with her other arm, this one much brighter and actually burning, before laying the hand on his arm. He hissed in pain.

He would be fine. She finished and rebandaged the wound, accidentally ripping some fresh skin from the top as she did. Di internally sighed. She was so distracted by her own problems at home, it was seeping into her work. Usually she was very careful not to hurt her patients.

"Stop your fretting, my friend." Di smiled at Halia. She took out a small, red pain relief potion and left it on the table. Di stood taller than her neighbor and if Corinth stood, she would be taller than him as well. She looped an arm around the basket and went to Halia, hugging her lightly. "He will be fine. If you see any changes besides betterment, please knock on my door at once!"

"Yes." Halia gripped her harder in thanks. "I'll get m' boys to yeh for payin'."

Di nodded and left their home, only turning to raise a hand in the sign of health toward their door. She made her way past the dusty, dry land of Halia and Corinth's, down an open path back to the closer edges of her village. On either side of her land were vast and mostly green in pastures. Her village was the closest to the castle walls, the only village on this side of the Goore Mountains for miles.

Many marked the village as a final resting spot before entering the castle walls to meet with royalty and fine merchants; it had not one but three inns competing for tourists and immigrants alike, and was known for mixing cultures. Humans, the fae, dwarves, and any other sort would come through their village before the central town of Difavose inside the castle walls. It was the perfect village for those on quests. Quests! To all-mother with them! Di shook her head as she continued walking. She wanted to focus on her last patient before thinking about anything like quests or Matis.

Most of the village was made of squat wooden buildings and always kept the air of welcome around; many were adorned with plants or decoration from several cultures and a few were brightly painted with stark contrast to the white and brown. Many were merchants who lived in this place, although on the outskirts lived farmers, like Halia and Corinth, and among them were those who did some kind of work for the royals.