- Messages
- 54
- Character Biography
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Keeper Yulia sighed, and quietly to herself said, "This is why my Backroom always stays a mess."
She performed a small incantation and there came a flash and before her appeared a sparrow, blue and spirit-like. She spoke to the conjured familiar, and it held her voice to repeat again, and then she bid the sparrow go and it flew quickly from the Backroom, on its way to rouse physical help.
Now to Svenia, Suleiman, and Marcurio Keeper Yulia said, "There will be time aplenty for the pointing of fingers. But that comes later. First, we must undo the results of this...youthful foolishness."
Suleiman pursed his lips, and the cold blanket of guilt fell hard upon him.
Sometimes called the Infirmary, sometimes the Healer's Chambers, sometimes other creative nicknames, nevertheless it was the destination for many Elbion students, whether to mend the smallest cut or to alleviate illness or to remedy injuries even more severe. Accidents happened, practice and experimentation were not without risk, and, indeed, though much more rare, fights had their black, purple, and red rewards tended here. The Chambers were quite large, and there was a section where thick cloth partitions separated beds from one another. Suleiman had been taken here, to one of these beds with the curtains on either side and the walkway before him. He didn't know where Marcurio and his goons had been taken, but it certainly wasn't nearby. Svenia, he thought, was close.
The healer he saw to him, Enoch, was an old man in his fifties, his hair a mix of dark and gray, his face clean shaven, few wrinkles, and a kind smile. They spoke some as he worked, Suleiman sitting on the edge of the bed and Enoch before him.
"So you traveled for how long?"
"Twenty years." And as Enoch's hand, enwreathed in a soft glow, passed over Suleiman's arm, he paused. His hand hovered as he seemed to detect something. "Not harmful..." he murmured, and then to Suleiman he asked, "You said that the fight was all physical, correct?"
"Yes. Well. Almost all physical. What I, uh, suffered was all physical—you know, from the other boys. Svenia used a bit of magic on me to help." Feeling, rightly or wrongly, as though he needed to add more, he said, "I don't like getting punched in the face. So her help was welcome. I needed it."
Enoch considered it some more, and then his lips puckered and his brow lifted in the manner of a man silently impressed. He finished with his work, hardly appearing to have done much (at least, from a witness's point of view, for Suleiman's aches were relieved). "The freshness of the wounds, and their lack of severity, has been a boon. You won't bruise, and by tomorrow you'll have only the memory to trouble you."
"Can I see Svenia?"
Enoch thought for a moment. "I don't see the harm in it. But I'll have to walk you over there." A small edge of a smile, then, as he added, "Wouldn't want you going off for another round at the other lads."
"I've had enough fighting for one day."
"All the same. Let's go."
Svenia Albrecht
She performed a small incantation and there came a flash and before her appeared a sparrow, blue and spirit-like. She spoke to the conjured familiar, and it held her voice to repeat again, and then she bid the sparrow go and it flew quickly from the Backroom, on its way to rouse physical help.
Now to Svenia, Suleiman, and Marcurio Keeper Yulia said, "There will be time aplenty for the pointing of fingers. But that comes later. First, we must undo the results of this...youthful foolishness."
Suleiman pursed his lips, and the cold blanket of guilt fell hard upon him.
* * * * *
THE HEALER'S CHAMBERS
THE HEALER'S CHAMBERS
Sometimes called the Infirmary, sometimes the Healer's Chambers, sometimes other creative nicknames, nevertheless it was the destination for many Elbion students, whether to mend the smallest cut or to alleviate illness or to remedy injuries even more severe. Accidents happened, practice and experimentation were not without risk, and, indeed, though much more rare, fights had their black, purple, and red rewards tended here. The Chambers were quite large, and there was a section where thick cloth partitions separated beds from one another. Suleiman had been taken here, to one of these beds with the curtains on either side and the walkway before him. He didn't know where Marcurio and his goons had been taken, but it certainly wasn't nearby. Svenia, he thought, was close.
The healer he saw to him, Enoch, was an old man in his fifties, his hair a mix of dark and gray, his face clean shaven, few wrinkles, and a kind smile. They spoke some as he worked, Suleiman sitting on the edge of the bed and Enoch before him.
"So you traveled for how long?"
"Twenty years." And as Enoch's hand, enwreathed in a soft glow, passed over Suleiman's arm, he paused. His hand hovered as he seemed to detect something. "Not harmful..." he murmured, and then to Suleiman he asked, "You said that the fight was all physical, correct?"
"Yes. Well. Almost all physical. What I, uh, suffered was all physical—you know, from the other boys. Svenia used a bit of magic on me to help." Feeling, rightly or wrongly, as though he needed to add more, he said, "I don't like getting punched in the face. So her help was welcome. I needed it."
Enoch considered it some more, and then his lips puckered and his brow lifted in the manner of a man silently impressed. He finished with his work, hardly appearing to have done much (at least, from a witness's point of view, for Suleiman's aches were relieved). "The freshness of the wounds, and their lack of severity, has been a boon. You won't bruise, and by tomorrow you'll have only the memory to trouble you."
"Can I see Svenia?"
Enoch thought for a moment. "I don't see the harm in it. But I'll have to walk you over there." A small edge of a smile, then, as he added, "Wouldn't want you going off for another round at the other lads."
"I've had enough fighting for one day."
"All the same. Let's go."
Svenia Albrecht
