"When the songs first came out, tales of the Maiden in Silver, who walked the battlefields and dispensed healing to the injured without recompense was mostly thought of as a tall tale.

Two hundred years later, that remained the case here in Alcidea, we mostly thought of it as some folk tales from the south. After all, many such tall tales were sung by bards everywhere, so it was not like it was uncommon except perhaps for its longevity.

Then the Maiden in Silver from the stories herself appeared here. I had met her myself. She wore whites, not silver, but with her silver-gray hair, I could see how the nickname had stuck. I was a peasant conscript at the time, and our duchy just had a conflict with our neighbor.

There were dead and dying aplenty on both sides. The nobles were fine and shook hands and called an end to the fighting, sure, but it was us the poor folks who had to limp back home half crippled, or missing a limb, if we got home at all.

But then she came, and where her fingers touched, ails went away. Many of us thought we had seen an angel that day, others just too baffled by their recovery to do much else but stare.

I was of the latter group, as I saw both my missing hands grew back. That was the moment I decided to leave my home village, and share her tales with all those willing to hear." - Nedrick Pramber, Alcidean Bard, circa 587 VA.

Much like the longer-lived dwarves - who had discreetly made way for the pale woman in white -, mercenaries like Reinhardt were all too familiar with the tales and songs of the Silver Maiden. Most everyone who has ever stepped foot on a battlefield were.

Even so, to witness the living legend in the flesh, as she laid hands on comatose and other severely injured patients, only to depart seconds later, leaving a perfectly healthy man or woman in her wake, was an eye-opening experience.

It was not that he had never seen a healer at work before. Old Jonas, the life affinity healer attached to the first company - who was killed in the opening moments of the ambush they fell into - would have been capable of healing similar injuries as well.

But it would have taken him hours to do so, and it would more likely than not exhaust him. The Silver Maiden healed her patients in mere seconds, and only paused longer before ones with severe head injuries like Hogarth.

Even then she was done after a minute or two.

Some of the dwarven physicians had followed her around and checked those she was finished with, though they had not roused them. The Maiden had told them to leave them to sleep for the time being, rather than to disturb their slumber.

Every one of the dwarven healers and herbalists muttered things about how some of the things she did should have been impossible to do so fast. Others took notes. A few followed after her with idolizing eyes.

She healed indiscriminately, though she focused on those with the worst injuries first, as those were the ones whose lives still teetered on a balance at the moment. Hogarth was amongst those she handled, and Reinhardt watched, marvelled as the sunken skull of his adoptive father was restored as if nothing had ever happened to it.

The Silver Maiden went over to those who were crippled or lost a limb, but whose lives were no longer in danger next. It had only taken her a little over two hours to handle the hundreds of comatose patients, every one of whom now looked hale and hearty again, merely asleep.

Reinhardt saw the Maiden lay a hand over Nicole's abdomen, her other hand laid on Nicole's aunt, who was next to her. Mere seconds later, he watched as the two women, young and old, stood up tentatively, kicked their legs a bit as if trying them out, then hugged each other and cried right then and there.

He saw how Yuri's missing trunk and tusk grew back in moments, as the elephantine man rubbed the once-broken tusk with his regenerated trunk as if in a dream. Many others who had a lost limb restored showed similar reactions as he did, as they marveled at their returned limb.

Those who were still recovering from their injuries, like Elfriede and Grünhildr, all found themselves restored with a single touch. He couldn't help but notice the attention she paid to those she healed.

Dwarves as a whole, and many mercenaries regardless of race tend to view scars as something similar to badges of honor, and rarely had them removed when they visited a healer.

The Silver Maiden was meticulous enough that those who had kept their scars in proud display, earned new scars from their recent injuries, and their old scars were left untouched. On the other hand, those who had not been of such a persuasion, was left with smooth, unblemished skin as if nothing ever happened, like Ylisera.

When the Silver Maiden walked past him and casually touched his shoulder with one hand, Reinhardt instantly felt as if all the lingering aches and pains he still had from his wounds vanished on the spot. The woman just walked on, as she made her rounds around the ruins, at times exchanging a few words with those she aided.

She left just before dawn.

Many in the camps rubbed their eyes, uncertain on whether they had dreamed the whole thing. Others still stared at their recently restored limbs. But it was not until the sun rose and the first of the comatose people woke up with a loud yawn, as if they had merely slept a long time, did the celebration began.

Everybody raised a humongous cheer. Some cried in joy, others gave thankful prayers to the deities. The ruckus woke the slumbering ones, and they soon found themselves drowned in hugs from their friends and loved ones. Jubilation took over the crowd.