By The Sword - Homepage

If you want to get notified of updates for this serial or chat with me as well as other serial authors, consider joining our discord server!

The sight of the ranger’s lodge felt like a blessing from the world itself as we approached. Breaking through the trees, fresh air brushed across my skin. It ruffled my hair, sending brown strands wilting in front of my eyes. I smiled, not even bothering to brush them away as I walked on.

From ahead, Kye glanced back at me. Her eyes narrowed as she saw my smile, but she angled her head toward my bandaged side. I waved her off, trying my best to ignore the receding numbness and the pain that was inching its way back. Instead, I tried to focus on the forest around us. No matter how many times she proved it, I was still amazed by how easily Kye could navigate the gnarled trees. After hunting in it for weeks now, I could still barely find my way around. Some parts of it were becoming familiar, but those were few and far between. Most of it just looked like a twisted, unattended mess to me.

Maybe I needed more time with it, or maybe I wasn’t observant enough. But either way, I had more important things to think about.

Because whether I liked it or not, the leaves were wearing off.

Slowly but surely, as we’d walked the final stretch through the forest, the soreness of my body had pressed in. The exhaustion and fatigue had showed their true colors after the fire of battle had retreated. And despite the wonderful numbing effects of the leaves, they hadn’t held out for long.

Despite myself, I grimaced. “How long are these… leaves supposed to last?”

Kye turned on her heel, not missing a pace as we walked across the clearing. “Sano leaves,” she corrected. My eyebrows dropped, and I tried to make sure she knew how unamused I was between pained expressions. “But it depends on what they’re treating. For surface wounds or bruises, they’ll last hours. But for something more serious”—she gestured to the bloodstained bandage tied across my waist to hold the leaves in place—“they can wear off pretty quickly.”

“Good to know,” I said, straightening up and trying to compose myself. Complaining about the pain wouldn’t do any good and I knew it. So instead, I tried to keep it away. To make the short walk back to the lodge in peace. Then, however, I took a sharp breath a little too quickly and my lungs rejected the air. I coughed, my side rippling as waves of pain broke through the numbing effect of the leaves.

“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath as I got the coughing under control. With aches encroaching on my bones and too much of my blood already painting the dirt hundreds of paces back, my body very much disliked being shaken.

“Calm down,” Kye said, a smirk tugging at her lips. I sneered at her. “We’re almost there.”

Letting it go, I tried to force another complete breath into my lungs. We were almost there, and I knew it. The walk from the tree line to the ranger’s lodge wasn’t a long one. I’d dealt with much worse pain as a knight, but without fear and adrenaline pushing me forward, it was extremely annoying.

Getting shot in the side wasn’t enjoyable by any means. Though, in the grand scheme of injuries I’d sustained, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. The danger and real consequence, of being shot with an arrow had made training better, at least. It had put fear into me; I’d pushed myself even harder than normal. Plus, it was the first flesh wound I’d sustained since joining the Rangers, and I finally got to meet the famous healer I’d been told so much about.

Whoever their healer was, I’d heard a lot about them. Apparently, leaving their office wasn’t something that suited them very well, and that was for good reason. I’d been told that they had almost mastered the ability to manipulate energy to get a body to heal itself.

If the fanciful stories were to be believed, whoever their healer was could speed up the process of healing from days to an hour. And even quicker than that with extra effort. As a practical person though, I was skeptical. With how annoyingly painful the gash in my side was becoming, I found it hard to believe that anyone could’ve let my body repair in an hour. Again, I reminded myself that things were different now, but even that seemed hyperbolic. Back in Credon, the mages that we did have usually devoted themselves to a healing profession of some sort. Yet, not even the most powerful among them came close to the healing speed I’d been told.

“Are you coming in?” a voice asked. Looking up, I matched it with the chestnut-haired woman who was glaring at me, her face blank as she stood in the open doorway.

I blinked, scrunching my face and nodding before following her lead into the warm comfort of the lodge. As we barreled forward, the numbness on my side continued to recede. I bit down, focusing all of my efforts on ignoring the pain. The empty training room and back hallway flew by without my notice until Kye asked a question.

She glanced sideways at me, one eyebrow cocked while the hall passed around us. “Have you ever met our healer before?”

I tilted my head, turning slowly and stiffly as to not agitate the gash in my side. “I’ve heard about them.” A wince broke through my mask for a moment. “But… no, I don’t think I’ve ever met them myself.”

Kye snickered. “Oh. Alright.”

My eyebrows dropped. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Kye said, doing a poor job of hiding her amusement as we rounded a corner into a hallway I’d never been down. “He’s a bit… much, is all. Be warned.”

I rolled my eyes, but Kye only deepened her grin and shrugged. Another second of silence ticked on; I had to keep talking to distract from the pain. “What should I be warned of?”

Kye slowed to a stop, swallowing a chuckle as we made it to the healer’s office. “He’s very… passionate about his work.”

She left it at that, turning away from me and looking up at the door in front of us. As I looked around, the sparse doors that looked like they led to storage closets were all unfamiliar. All made of the same rough wood that contrasted heavily with the polished, high-quality doors of the ranger’s quarters.

Right in front of us, though, was one very different. This one was wider than most others, but it was shorter as well. Kye would’ve barely had half a head of clearance if we walked through. Besides the size though, the only difference was the symbol. Instead of gold, or the silver inlaid on the entrance to Lorah’s office, this crescent shaped arrow was red.

Without even waiting another second, Kye shot a reassuring look my way and pushed into the room. Hinges creaked as wood swung in, and a high-pitched, irritated murmur sounded off from inside.

“Bullshit!” someone yelled. Before I’d even crossed the threshold, a smile tugged at my lips.

The room we walked into was larger than I’d expected. Larger than most others in the lodge, for sure. But it was hard to get the full scale of everything because of the mess. In the far corner, a small bed was pushed against the wall. Over the floor, scattered papers and what looked to be plant parts were littered everywhere. And directly to our left as we walked in was a desk with a short, bearded man standing on top of it.

The pale-skinned man that I assumed to be the healer had bushy brown hair that culminated in a beard wholly unfitting for his stature. And from the look of it, he was more than two heads shorter than I was. It was hard to tell, though, because he was currently stomping on his desk and muttering very distasteful things. The longer it went on, the redder his face got until I wasn’t sure whether or not his head would explode.

“Galen!” Kye shouted. The man froze, his foot stomping one last time before he turned to us. A disk of ink on his desk swished to the side and painted the already stained wood with another splotch of black.

“Oh,” he said. As I pushed back another wince, I almost started laughing right there. Instead of a low voice that I would’ve associated with someone of his looks, he spoke in a sort of high-pitched squeak that reminded me of a child. “Hi there.”

I nodded, trying to keep myself together as I stopped swallowing pain and began swallowing laughter. The old man gestured to both of us before crouching down and hopping off his desk, making sure the red liquid in his hand didn’t spill as he placed it into a square wooden holder. Then he wiped his hands on his version of the ranger outfit.

“Sorry about that,” he continued. I barely held back a chuckle. “I was, err… venting my frustrations about a compound I’m… dealing with.”

Beside me, Kye snickered. I glanced at her, my eyes going round, but Galen didn’t seem to mind. So, I too let out a little chuckle at the fact that he looked like the mix between a child and a middle-aged man as well as sounded like it. His voice was gravelly, but also high-pitched. And with his short stature, chiseled jaw, and bushy beard, it was quite the sight to behold.

“Agil and I…” Kye started, getting back on track to why we were here. She paused, taking a short breath. Probably to make sure she didn’t laugh herself. “We were training in the woods and I shot him in the side. The wound’s been bandaged, but it should still be healed.”

Galen’s awkward smile dropped. “Alright then.” He pointed at me. “Agil right?” Jerking my head back, I nodded. “Okay. Come lie down here and I’ll see what I can do.”

His voice was serious… somehow. It had shifted as soon as Kye had mentioned the fact that I’d been wounded. For some reason, his request even sounded like an order with his controlled tone. And as I bobbed my head, I didn’t think I could’ve disobeyed if I’d wanted.

“Alright,” I said, giving my version of a weak smile as I laid on his couch. Multiple raspy grunts of pain sounded off as I swung my legs up onto the cushion.

Galen then smiled a bit more genuinely and turned back to Kye. “So, is there anything else I should know about the injury?” Kye opened her mouth, but he continued before she could speak. “I see that you’ve already applied sano leaves, which is a good start—and probably how he managed to get back here without collapsing.” He shared a glance with me as if expecting a rise from that. “But I want to know if there’s anything you’re not telling me.”

Kye gave him a forced smile, obviously not saying what was on her mind. “No… I don’t think so. It was a standard arrow. And, uh. There wasn’t anything particularly abnormal about the circumstances.”

Galen paused for a moment. Then he beamed. “Great! Then that’ll be all. I can take care of this pretty quickly.” He waved toward the door. “I think you can leave.” With that, Galen turned away from Kye and started walking over to me.

As he walked, Kye rolled her eyes. She spared one last scowl at the back of the short man’s head before smiling at me and slipping out of the room. Galen didn’t seem to notice any of it, however, as he was still beaming when he got to me.

“Let’s see what we can do about getting you all fixed up!” he cried. I cringed, half in pain and half at his strange enthusiasm. He almost sounded like a mother. Except, that was not something I associated—or wanted to associate—with the man standing over me.

Without asking anything else, he reached over and started to untie the rough bandaging I’d done on myself in the forest. Tension slipped from my waist. The hole in my side flared up, sending pin-pricks of fire across the surrounding skin. And the sano leaves went lax, removing their residual effect almost immediately.

Suddenly, a chill shot up my spine. Shuddering, pain ramped up without continuous contact with the leaves. My skin felt sharp and fresh, letting warm blood flow out to stain my uniform even more. As I winced the entire way, Galen removed all of my bandaging and tossed it to the side. He took each of the leaves, bloodstained or not, and placed them on a separate pile.

The stench of dried blood and flesh filled the room. I wrinkled my nose, but Galen didn’t seem to mind. I tilted my head, the confusion overpowering pain for a second as I tried to figure the little man out. With his bare hands, Galen poked the skin around my wound and rubbed any blood off on the torn cloth.

I bit back a curse, the muffled sound coming out as more of a song of pain. “Could you—“ I started.

He held up a finger to stop me. Surprisingly, it worked. “I know what I’m doing. I’ll be done in less than a minute.” He waggled his finger and I could see some of my own blood dripping down it.

Grimacing hard, I let him continue. With the awkward, burning, painful feelings tearing through my flesh at every touch, I didn’t trust him. In fact, I wanted to punch him in the face. But my rationality kept me in check. And if the stories I’d heard about him were true anyway, I wouldn’t have to endure this very long. I’d get healed better than I could in most other circumstances. So, begrudgingly, I put my hands down and left the short man to his work.

After poking at my flesh and crouching down to see my side better, he finally looked satisfied. Pulling his hands off me, I saw him wipe some of my blood on his uniform. But he smiled.

“Looks like a quick job.” He snapped his fingers. “Shouldn’t take more than… two hours maybe?” That number calmed me more than anything else. Hope sparked in my chest and the awful discomfort writhed, both reminding me of its existence and squirming at the thought of being banished in mere hours.

Galen walked over to his desk and took a white cloth rag off of it. He used it to wipe the residual blood off his fingers. As I watched, more blood spilled out through my wound and I let loose a string of curses under my breath. My nose twitched, but it was no use. The disgusting smell would stay until I was fully healed.

Being a fighter by trade, the smell of blood wasn’t unknown to me. I was familiar with it because I had to be. But that didn’t mean I enjoyed it.

After finishing what I assumed he thought of as cleaning his hands, Galen threw the towel back onto his desk and walked toward me. He mumbled something under his breath and with each step, his eyes moved to a different area of the room.

“Alright,” he finally said, sitting down on the couch next to me. “You might get sleepy during this.”

I squinted, nodding wearily. I didn’t know why I would get sleepy, and in fact, the prospect of sleep sounded quite nice. But as soon as he said it, I became suspicious. I took it as a challenge. If I was supposed to get sleepy while he healed me, I would world’s damned stay awake.

My wound burned again with another jolt of pain. More blood poured out of it, the stench setting a sour taste on my tongue. This challenge wouldn’t be hard to complete, I thought. Between the pain and the horrible smell, I was not going to have an easy time just dozing off.

I looked back to Galen. He had his eyes closed and his arms brought close to his sides. I opened my mouth, about to ask him what he was doing.

He held up a hand to silence me but didn’t open his eyes. “It’d be best for you if you didn’t”—his tone jumped in severity on the last word—“interrupt my concentration.”

With exhaustion pulling my eyelids and pain searing my side, I wanted to sneer at the half-man. But instead, I snapped my lips shut and followed his command. Again, the strange control in his voice made me listen. And all in all, it was probably for the best. I had more important things to worry about.

Galen started moving his hands, the air around them seemingly splitting to allow their passage. Something changed. Slowly at first, then more rapidly, I felt a warm feeling growing. It originated in my chest but slowly moved down to where I needed it most: the source of agony in my side. The warm feeling coddled the wound, wrapping around it. And then it started to heal.

The warmth locked the pain away and the bleeding stopped. I could still smell the vile scent of dried blood, but I couldn’t feel it anymore. I was happy with that. As Galen continued moving his hands, the air lightening by the second, I didn’t exactly know what was going on. All I knew was that I wanted it to continue.

Pulled along by the warmth, my mind focused on my side. I felt it changing. As the warmth spread and pulsed—almost like a living thing, I felt my body healing.

Like the process that normally took days, my body started putting itself back together, and it felt great. With each heartbeat, my blood pumped around my body, and in my side, I felt it rebuilding my flesh. The gash stopped bleeding. The pain faded away completely. And a heavy tiredness pressed itself down on me.

My eyes drooped as my energy was moved elsewhere. But my mind was only focused on the feeling that had replaced the pain, and before I knew it, rest was taking me. The beautiful, lovely abyss was tempting me, and I couldn’t resist. My eyes flitted shut and after a while, I couldn’t even focus on myself anymore.

I was falling asleep.

Blackness.

That was all I saw. If I even was able to see. For some reason, the concept of sight—of having eyes was foreign. It didn’t relate to my current experience, as if I didn’t have the sense of sight anymore and was instead feeling the darkness with my soul. And as time marched on, that was all I was able to feel. The pure, crystal-clear blackness that somehow felt full of life. Everything I’d ever seen, felt, or heard was before me. Masked as blackness, sure, but familiar all the same.

Soon though, that familiarity came to an end.

“Why—“ a voice said, abruptly cutting off. The sound mingled with my soul, feeling both intrinsic and unknown. I listened to the voice, stretching my soul to experience its words.

“How—“

“Where—“

“Gone.” A note of finality surged into the voice. Its sound echoed, finishing without being cut or warped by the darkness. Suddenly, feelings rose within me. They washed over me like raging waves in a storm.

And at once, I saw the light.

A white spark flew through the darkness. It struck like a shooting star, enchanting my soul and capturing my attention. For some reason, I felt close to the spark. I felt sympathy for it. I felt hope. Even though I had no idea what it was.

The spark hit something in the black and flared. It flared into a soft white flame that burned on nothing and wavered in an absent breeze. I watched the flame, experienced its existence with my soul. It watched me back, displaying every part of itself in an idle dance.

“No—“ the voice said again, cutting off. The white flame froze in tandem with it, warping as the broken voice spoke.

“Don’t—“

“I’m not—“

“Dead.” The flame flared out once more. Its heat hollowed, coldness eating it from the inside and corrupting the once-pure tendrils of fire. Waves of disgust swept over me. Waves of anger. Waves of hatred that somehow resonated deep in my soul. Then the flame dwindled, shying away from my presence.

“They—“ the voice started. It came strong, the words piercing through darkness before being abruptly snuffed out. Then the meaning fell away. Broken. Fractured. Incomplete.

“I couldn’t—“

“Find—“

“I want to…” it trailed off. The flame shriveled, its heat directing away from me. I wanted to reach out to the flame, to respond to it with my own voice. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find it. My voice was somewhere lost in the black. Distant. And I couldn’t even respond to the crashing wave of sadness that broke over my soul.

I watched the flame uselessly. If I’d had eyes, they would’ve teared up.

“Please.” Its final word fell through the black. The sound muffled, once again becoming lost in the black. And as it went, the flame followed. Flickering with passion I felt strangely close to, it shrunk.

Then it burned out.

A loud slam ripped me back to the world.

I jolted, my eyelids slamming open. Instantly squinting at the light, I held up one of my weak hands to block rays of sun from my eyes. Moving my muscles, soreness took my entire body. It ached to my very core with such mundane lightness that it served no other purpose than to annoy me. Angling my head, I pushed myself up against the cushion I was lying on. A pulse of pain washed over my head, making me wince.

Then I felt my side.

I grimaced hard as searing pain ripped through my gut. It tore into muscle like an axe, sharpening as if to make up for lost time. Then though, after a second of pure agony, it stopped. Straightening myself, the pain receded to match the rest of the soreness and left me utterly confused.

Then I remembered. In a second, everything came back and I darted my eyes down. There, beneath a patch of stained and ripped fabric, was a pale scar. Around the scar, my flesh looked completely healed. As though there had never been an arrow stuck in it at all. And after a few seconds of bewildered disbelief, I chuckled. Then I chuckled some more until my tired, awe-fueled laughter filled the entire room.

“Agil,” someone said. I blinked, but the laughter didn’t stop. I couldn’t have stopped it if I’d wanted. The excellence of the healing I’d received was… unbelievable. And knowing that it had only taken a few short hours put grand ideas in my head. “Agil!”

I straightened, a chuckle cutting off in my throat as I turned. My blurry eyes adjusting again, I finally noticed the tall, dark-brown-haired woman standing in the door way. She tilted her head at me, halfway grinning as she glared.

“For the world’s sake, calm down,” she said. I furrowed my brows, noticing the blue cloth, black belt, and metal boots of the Ranger uniform. Then, all at once, clarity broke through in my head and I recognized the voice.

Sparing one last dry chuckle, I rubbed my eyes. “Hey Tan.” She scrunched her face, still smiling at me. I pushed past the sarcastic annoyance. “What do you want?”

“While I’m glad you were able to take your beauty sleep, the world beckons.” She crossed her arms, glancing sideways at the short man rolling his wrist as if trying to get her to speed up. Galen looked over at me as soon as he saw me staring. He did not look amused. And I ventured only half of that had to do with the glass vial in his hands.

I raised my hands. “Right. Okay. What’s going on?”

“You have an important meeting,” she said.

I nodded. Then shook my head. “A meeting?” I asked, my voice far more surprised than I’d intended. It was strange, though, that someone needed a meeting with me. Outside of the lodge, almost none of the townsfolk knew who I was. And I’d already met with Lorah earlier in the week.

Tan smirked at me, showing off an expression I was getting all too tired of seeing. “Yes. Somebody has requested to speak with you. About a task you might be good for?”

My expression darkened. I darted my eyes to the floor, confusion only growing in my head. For some reason, dread built in my chest. It was strange, for someone to be asking to meet with me. Nobody should’ve been wanting to see me or had a task for my hand. Not anymore, at least. I was no longer a knight. But something about Tan’s expression helped along an idea in my head. One I didn’t want to be true.

“Who?” I asked without even looking up at her.

In the corner of my eye, Tan’s smirk dropped a hair. “Arathorn.”