I rushed alongside Alice, my heart pounding in my chest as we navigated the winding tunnels of Dun Eirann. The healer's home was farther than I'd expected, and I found myself missing the freedom of riding horseback.
As we arrived, we were ushered into a spacious, dimly lit chamber filled with the scent of herbs and the soft murmur of healers tending to the wounded. Twelve soldiers lay on beds, their faces etched with pain. My gaze swept the room, locking onto Kieran's bed. I hastened towards him, kneeling beside his still form.
Damon's frantic voice rose above the din as he questioned the surviving soldiers. "What happened? How did this occur?"
I tuned out the commotion, focusing on Kieran. His tunic had been removed, revealing a jagged stab wound. The healer, a middle-aged woman with a kind face, worked swiftly to clean and dress the wound. She examined the area, her brow furrowed in concern.
"This was no ordinary blade," she said, her voice laced with a hint of worry. "The wound is poisoned. They must have encountered soldiers from the capital during their hunt."
My mind racing, I watched as the healer worked to administer a makeshift antidote. However, it was clear that her efforts might not be enough. The poison had already begun to spread, and Kieran's life hung in the balance.
Without hesitation, I reached out with my magic, feeling the familiar surge of energy course through my veins. I focused on the poison, visualizing its dark, insidious tendrils as they spread through Kieran's system.
With a gentle, probing touch, I began to extract the poison, drawing it out of Kieran's body and into the air. The process was delicate, requiring precision and control. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I worked, my magic straining to purge the toxin.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I sensed the poison's influence begin to wane. Kieran's labored breathing slowed, and his body relaxed, freed from the grip of the toxin.
The healer's eyes met mine, a hint of awe and gratitude in her expression. "Thank you," she whispered. "You've stabilized him, but…his life is still far from certain."
I nodded, understanding. We'd done all we could for now. As the healer and her assistants tended to Kieran, I rose to my feet, my gaze sweeping the room. The other soldiers needed attention, and I was determined to do everything in my power to help them.
Hours later, I was called back to the healer's home, I wasn't too far anyway, I walked through the familiar halls and back to the chamber where Kieran was unconscious, only he wasn't anymore.
The chamber still reeked of herbs and the other twelve soldiers had been discharged. Kieran was seated on his bed shirtless, his stomach was bandaged, but color had finally returned to his face and he looked healthier. "I hear I have you to thank for the life of me and my men" he said, his tone revealed something I had never heard from him before…. Gratitude.
I smiled "I couldn't let you die, we still haven't concluded our conversation" he gestured for me to take a seat on the stool beside him and I did, I even poured him a glass of water for good measure. "Thank you," he breathed, it took him a second and a couple of deep breaths before he spoke "the reason we've been hiding underground for centuries because of fear of fighting back, but there's a whole world out there for us, and if you give me your word that we have a place up there…" amidst my sweaty palms, heavy breathing and my quickening heart, I managed to straighten myself to answer "You have my word Voraza"
Voraza I learned means chief, in the old tongue. "Then the hill tribes are yours to command… your majesty" I smiled in relief, and my heart swelled when he dipped his head in a bow. I had done it.