Below the Peak (Sola)(100)

“You’ll barely feel a thing” she reassured him when he tensed at the sight of the small sharp thin scissors. “Trust me” she implored him with her eyes. They had mixed the soup with that herb again to make him drowsy and a little numb from pain.

Lying down, Wúlf dragged the hem of the tunic over his waist to his chest then turned and laid on his good side. He clenched his teeth hard when he felt cold fingers on his skin.

“I’m going to cut the threads and push the dark blood here,” Izza said, taking the sterilized scissor and carefully digging its sharp blade into the wound.

Nara watched as Izza reopened cut the threads and opened the wound. Nara grabbed a white cloth and held it close to the wound to stop the dark blood from spilling on the clothes and linens as Izza pressed both thumbs on each side of the wound to expel the infected blood. Wúlf breathed through his teeth as laid there quietly. He only felt a distant pain and more of drowsiness. He fell asleep before he got stitched up again.

****

Later in the afternoon, Nara had just finished washing and hanging her clothes and the boy’s trouser on the clothesline behind the house when she made her way back to her room to peek at him and see how he was doing. She found him still sleeping on his back, his mouth parted with little whizzing sound coming from his lips. Again, Nara felt his skin against her palm. She let out a sigh of relief, he was hot but wasn’t burning up. His skin had taken a little coolness she regarded as a good sign. She was retreating to the dining room when she stopped at the door and looked back at the boy. Something in her gut stilled her there, unrelenting. A terrible chill skittered down her spine as she strode back to the bed. Fingers trembling, she clutched the bedcover and ripped it completely from him. Her heart stopped beating for a whole minute as fear surfaced in her eyes. The infection that she had seen disappeared when they had expelled his blood was now covering his midriff in darkish grey vein like branches. Features hardening, Nara dashed downstairs.

“What is it?” Izza asked with a frown.

“Go and watch the boy, I’ll be back” She ordered and ran outside to the stables. Nara mounted a steed and speedily got out of there. Her heartbeat thundered widely in her ears as she galloped to the headquarters. Please help me find him she prayed as she halted inside. She leaped to the ground and fastened toward one of the first warriors her eyes saw. “Finn Horrindor,” she told the startled elf. “Where is he?” Nara asked in elvish. The elf shook his head, giving her look. Nara exhaled, frustrated and terrified for the boy. “Prince Calemir?” she asked. Perhaps her husband knew the whereabouts of his friend. The elf pointed to a door. Not even saying thank you as she was pressed with urgent matters of life and death, she ran toward where he had pointed. She didn’t bother to knock either, she barged inside. Four pairs of eyes gazed at her.

“What’s it?” Calemir asked. Nara ignored him, her eyes zeroing on the one with grey eyes. “Please, he is very sick. He needs your help” she begged Finn. Finn gave her a confused look. He had just gotten to the station and was reporting to Calemir of what was going on in the village. “Who is sick?”

“The boy, please just come and see him” she pleaded.

“His conditioned has worsened?” Calemir asked. Nara glanced at him, sadness etched on her face. “He appears to be infected. Izza cleaned his wound today, but I had just checked on him just moments ago and found the infection to have spread.” She swallowed and turned to Finn. “Can you see him please?”

“Sure” Finn nodded.

“Thank you” Nara muttered.

As quickly as she came, she returned to the house with the two elves. The trio skipped the stairs and went straight to her room. She froze on the spot, her mouth gaping. The boy was coughing blood. He was sitting on the bed, his skin ill grey, his eyes pale, his small shoulders shaking terribly as he coughed into the cloth in his hands. His fingers were red from blood as it was for the bed cover and tunic he wore. Izza turned to Finn and muttered hurriedly in elvish. “He just started to cough blood. See his ears, they were bleeding too. I worry for his life.”

On their way to the house, his leader had told him about the boy and the circumstances that surrounded him. Finn was surprised the boy was still alive. He knew of no one who had ever survived cursed spirits wounds. Finn had healed men before, fellow soldiers who got wounded in battle but he had never cured a person with inflicted wounds from cursed sprits or a human for that matter. With a grave expression, Finn sat on the bed, looking at the boy he spoke gently, “I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder. Do not fear, be calm.” Finn lifted one hand and rested it on the boy’s shaking shoulder. He felt the force in the kid’s body and began to mutter under his breath in elvish. Nara held her breath as the room fell silent except for the soft hum rising from Finn’s throat and the boy’s coughing.

Gently, Finn pushed the boy back into the mattress that he was lying completely with his head resting on the pillow. Finn placed both hands on the kid’s chest and closed his eyes. Goosebumps broke over his skin as the infection left the boy’s body and entered his fingers. Like black worms, the infection swam up his hands to his face and swirled in a vicious black shadow behind Finn’s closed eyelids before evaporating. He opened his eyes and noted the boy’s pinkening face. He got to his feet and straightened. “It is done.”