Almost Like a Mirror

E

EquinoxSol

Guest
Original poster
Blood...blood everywhere. It coated the floor like a carpet, stained parts of the walls, and ran up Kayle's arms to the elbow. For a normal man, this would turn their stomach, the sight, the smell...

Kayle knew he could heal the man lying on his worktable, blood pumping out of a wound in his lower stomach that he had gotten in a heated fight. However, he didn't think that his weak heart could take it. Even if it could, he had no one else who could take care of him.

The healer lived alone, in a nicer house in the merchant's district. He had room for a few extra people, for when he needed to keep someone overnight to treat them. The room he was in, with the injured man, had wood floors, unlike the carpeted ones he had in the rooms he reserved for himself. It had few windows, and felt like a dungeon room, but some ivy that was growing in the corner gave it a more natural feel.

"You're gonna be okay," he told the man urgently, glad that he wasn't screaming as he was earlier.

Rummaging in a cabinet, he found his last spool of silk string and a needle. Tying the string properly, he wished the man hadn't lost a chunk of skin, because that would mean Kayle would have a harder time sealing the wound.

Kayle worked late into the afternoon, calming the man when he would begin screaming and shouting, giving him medicines that would lessen his pain, and cleaning the wound as best as he could when needed.

However, the healer's work was for naught. Just as the sun was dipping behind the mountains to the west, the man passed on into the godlands, his last dying breath used to tell Kayle that he loved his wife.

Frowning deeply, Kayle washed the worst of the blood off of himself, calling for a Dark One to take the body away. Once again, Kayle wondered if he could've saved the man by using his magic. Of course he could, but it would have come at a terrible price.

Sighing, he sank down into a chair, holding his head in his hands.
 
(Rune Galand - 28 years old, merc by trade for the past ten years. He is a hired person hand to a woman named Aura Sylph. What relation between him appears to be nothing more than work relatable. He stands a strong six foot four and weighs in about two hundred. Along his right side of his arm, inner chest to his back and to his neck is a black tattoo that is related to his heritage. He has navy almost black hair, with ghost white eyes.)


It was later into the evening than he hoped for, the sun was beginning to set along the horizon painting the sky a vivid arrays of oranges, reds and pinks. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants; blue more close to a ghostly white gaze preyed along the citizens of the town. Many of them would stop, turn and usher off in a hurried feat away from his gaze fearing that he had been a messenger from the afterlife coming to search for them.

In a sense he sort of was, but that only if they had the right price for him to do so. Lifting his gaze upwards to consider the large buildings of the houses around him, he had been given a specific request to this day and so far out of his usual missions that he was tempted to throw it aside.

Healers. He could live without the blasted creatures, having the abilities to save the mortal man and yet he had never really heard of many using the gifts of their flesh to do so. It was generally herbs, ointments, sewing and stitching of the wounds.

Heavy plated boots clacked against the cobblestone street, ringing out into the crisp air joining the tune of the claymore blade strapped to his back as it tapped against the clasp of the bag on the back of his belt.

The district was easily one of the nicer ones he had seen but it meant little when he as capable of still striking fear into anothers heart with a grin or a turn of an eye. Perhaps it was why he was sent instead of one of the higher ranked men of the society. He was not easily intimidated and rarely took no as an answer. Even in the most dire of circumstances.

Catching the slight scent of expired blood on the flow of air, he hummed turning his attention off his left shoulder. The healer was close.
 
Kayle had changed into clothes that were less bloodstained by the time the Dark One came for the body, and when the man dressed in all black arrived, he helped the poor, dead man onto the carriage.

Muttering a few prayers for him, Kayle watched as the carriage was pulled by its horses down the road, a sad look in his eyes. Once it was out of sight, he returned into his home, deciding that he would clean the room where the man had been, if he got someone in during the night.

Pumping water from the spout behind his house into a bucket, he used an old cloth to scrub away the blood in the floorboards.

It didn't take long to clean the blood, but by then Kayle was asleep on his feet. Yawning, he quickly washed himself of the remaining blood, feeling a familiar tightness in his chest. He wished he hadn't taken up healing as his profession. It had caused nothing but trouble for him, and he had seen enough of death, especially when he was able to help but refused.

Sitting at his table in the small kitchen area, he sliced some cheese, putting it on bread for a small dinner.
 
Side stepping in the street to watch the man in black pulling along the carriage by the single mare, he knew he was on the right track. Then again he knew better than to assume that her orders or predictions were wrong. Drawing an eye to a narrow slit, hands milled over to rake back the loose bangs that hung in his face back.

Lurking outside for a while when he finally tracked down the fairly decent sized abode, he was in no rush to go interrupting anything. As the sky grew dark to let the dappling of stars line the velvet blanket, it was then he began to make hsi move. Checking the claymore out of habit, he ascended towards the house. Closing his gaze as he knocked his knuckles against the door, he took a step back to clasp his hands behind his back.
 
Kayle had been in the middle of clearing away the dishes he used for his meal when he heard a noise at the door. Sighing, figuring that there was someone else calling for him and his services, he straightened his clothes. Nighttime was always worse for Kayle's heart, and he didn't like the idea of having more clothes to wash.

Brushing back strands of dark brown hair, he walked to the front room, pulling back a curtain at the front window to see who it was. Instantly frightened by the sight of a large claymore, he tried to see if he the man had any noticeable injuries. Not seeing anything, he frowned again before moving to the door, opening it.

"Yes?" he asked, looking up at the man.
 
He was tempted to look down upon the man who opened the door but rather he kept his gaze closed for the time being. Instead he corrected his stance to square off his shoulders, "You are the healer in this part of town? I have been merely sent here with a notice of request." Rune hummed slightly, "It is not a matter of which you would like to or not either Sir, it appears the lady of ephemeral is requiring your presence."
 
The frown on Kayle's face deepened slightly. Brushing back his shoulder-length hair, he narrowed his eyes before asking, "Why...?" It was unusual for requests to be made. Normally, if someone needed healing, they would come to the healer's house, not the other way around. Kayle had heard countless stories of young healers like himself being lured away with requests, only to be killed or sold into slavery and made to heal others until they took a wound so grievous that they died. It was a harrowing thought, to say the least...
 
Stifling the urge to sigh while pressing a hand to the bridge of his nose, he shook his head instead. "I do not ask questions of the lady, I simply do as I am told." Finally he dared an eye open to look over the healer, though he wasn't honestly much to look at. The way they had gotten a bad wrap, you'd almost expect them to be heinous creatures with horns jutting up from their skulls. "If you are worried about having to heal her, don't bother. Her request comes for other meanings."
 
Tilting his head slightly, his eyes narrowed as he tried to determine whether or not the man was telling the truth or not, he sighed before taking in the sight of the man fully. In a fair fight, Kayle would stand no chance, even if the man didn't have that claymore. Kayle might last two, maybe three minutes, but with his weak heart he would last no longer.

Fixing his tired gaze on the man once more, he said, "I guess there is no choice in going, then? And your lady cannot come here?" Biting his tongue to keep from saying anything else, Kayle continued, "Fine. Lead the way." Walking out into the street, one could see that he was a young man, for his profession. Many healers were old, wise men who had been healers their whole life. Of course, the reckless ones always died at early ages, while the smart ones tended to live longer, but Kayle counted himself lucky that his master hadn't been a reckless healer.

Kayle wore loose clothes of wool and cotton, knowing that winter was fast approaching and the nights were getting longer while the days got shorter. As he glanced up at the sky, the light danced in his pale green eyes, giving him a retrospective look. Finally sighing softly, he nodded to the man, indicating he was ready.

((Sorry I didn't reply sooner, I didn't get an alert that you'd posted ^^"))
 
He was vaguely surprised that this healer wasn't as old as most, proving that he was either very new to the healing aspects or just smart enough to know better. Waiting for the man, Rune dared a darker look when he had asked him if the lady could not come to him. "You ought to be blessed to have her even looking for you healer." he stated clearly, his back turning to step down the steps out into the moonshone street.
 
Flinching angrily at the comment, Kayle narrowed his eyes, the frown instantly returning to his face. His mood had steadily darkened all day, and the death of the man earlier did nothing t help it. And now, this man was claiming that he should be grateful to have yet another person to heal, who may or may not die? It was a troubling thought, to say the least.

Shutting the door behind him, he forced himself to say no more, having seen firsthand the damage a claymore can do to a man. And healers couldn't heal themselves with the magic they possessed. It just didn't work that way, and Kayle wasn't hoping to be lying in the streets, dead or dying.

Shaking his head at the thought, trying to get it out of his mind, he followed the man, wondering if he shouldn't start keeping a weapon on him at all times. At least then, he would be able to put up some sort of fight against things like this.
 
What was the purpose of this man being called to Aura? To him, it made no sense but that was fairly common, still... this one. Out of all the healers she could have summoned or even thought of summoning it seemed to be a greenhorn lad who hadn't yet grown into his nose. Then again, he couldn't make any assumptions.
 
Seeing someone he vaguely knew, Kayle waved at them halfheartedly before turning back to the man. "Why does your lady want me?" His tone was much more respectful now, as he eyed the weapon carefully. "I know I'm not the only healer in the city...And besides, I am the youngest of all of them, there are others who are more experienced and better at it than I..."
 
Walking alongside the young healer, Rune opened his gaze though a careful slit to consider him. "No you are certainly not much to look upon, and there are a handful of more experienced veterans of the trade than yourself, but I do not know why the lady has requested fervently your appearance." Rune shrugged some noting that this young lad kept taking note of his weapon. "I do not question the lady, I am merely a tool she can use for her needs."

Grinning some finally, Rune narrowed a brow, "I will not use it, if you do not give me a reason too."
 
As the man answered his question, Kayle struggled to keep up, his shorter legs and weaker heart proving to be giving him more difficulty than normal. He was filled halfway with emotions akin to excitement and fear. He was especially excited because it wasn't often he got to leave his home. Most days, he had to stay home in case someone needed help, and he could go weeks without leaving. However, Kayle was also afraid because he didn't know what he was getting into.

Not especially reassured by the man's words, his smile not helping, Kayle forced himself to nod, at least pretending would be better than not.
 
"I hope you packed smartly, the lady does not live within the reaches of town." he interjected here. He hadn't planned on really coming into town to retrieve anyone and yet it never failed. He was always sent out when he thought he would be at ease for the evening.
 
Grimacing at the man's words, Kayle forced himself to nod again. He hadn't really brought anything at all, but he imagined if he was needed for healing and not some other service, he would be fine. Besides, gauze was easy to come by, and there were many different types of herbs and the like in the nearby forest he could use just in case. And if worse came to worse, and there was no other option, he always had his magic...
 
Seeming to feel the sudden realization that swam over the healer, Rune sighed heavily, turned and looked down to him. "I can hear your fretting with how much you are fearing the worse. The lady herself is not in need of a healer, she has things for you that require your attention. Do not ask me what, for I do not know. Your demon's touch will not be anywhere near the lady."
 
"Demon's touch?" Kayle asked, frowning. He had heard of some who believed that healers consorted with demons and had no souls, but never had anyone said it to his face. Shaking his head at the words, he forced his anger down, trying to remain calm. Remember who had the claymore here, Kayle, he thought to himself.
 
Rune lifted a brow to his frowning, "I wouldn't call it angel's touch now would I?" it actually sort of amused him to see the mans face contort with the name he had been called. They were given a bad wrap and in turn the name followed with it. Still it had been amusing to see the trite annoyance flicker across his face.