TravelingDreamer
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B5—Chapter 7: All Hail the Healing Sage
🕑 Added 2024-12-16 18:22:44 +0000 UTCI finally caught up on sleep and didn’t wake until the afternoon. The house was quiet when I wandered downstairs—nobody was around. After throwing together a light breakfast, I decided to track down the gang. Al was the easiest to locate. He was holed up in his lab, wholly absorbed in working through the plant haul from the day before. Mahya and Rue were nowhere to be seen, and even Al had no clue where they’d vanished to.
I needed to rest and figured they’d turn up eventually. The higher mana levels and heavy expenditure over the past couple of days had taken a toll, leaving my mana channels feeling raw and overworked. Settling on the porch, I closed my eyes and let my awareness sink inward. A careful and thorough examination of my channels confirmed there were no micro-tears—just the strain of overuse, like pushing too hard and too long at the gym.
A short while before sunset, Mahya and Rue appeared, walking side by side. Mahya cradled an animal in her arms—a ginger-and-white creature that looked like a suricate but was the size of a house cat.
“Who’s that?” I asked, tilting my head as I eyed the unusual animal.
“Your next patient,” she replied, her tone carrying a hint of urgency as she shifted the creature gently in her arms.
Stepping closer, I examined the poor thing and noticed its hind leg bent at an odd angle. One cast of Heal Bone later, and the little critter leaped back into Mahya’s arms from mine.
Mahya’s expression, however, remained somber, her brow furrowed in a way that spoke of more than just concern for the creature. “Why do you look so down?” I asked.
She sighed. “I need to bring this cutie back to her mother. I promised.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you figured out the whole mana-speech thing?”
Mahya shook her head with a smile. “No, Rue is an excellent translator.”
At that, Rue straightened up, puffing out his chest like he was preparing to receive a medal. He even raised his nose in the air with an air of grandeur.
The sight was too much, and Mahya and I burst out laughing.
“We should move on tomorrow,” Mahya said, her voice turning serious as she shifted the little creature in her arms.
“I need a day or two more,” I said, leaning back against the porch railing.
“Why?” She asked and looked at me with concern.
“Between the higher mana levels and all the healing I performed, my channels feel like they’ve been scrubbed with a metal brush,” I explained, rubbing the back of my neck. “I don’t want to head out until I can use magic without feeling like my insides are on fire.”
Her brows knit together as she studied me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” I said, waving a hand to brush away her concern. “There’s no damage, just the aftereffects of heavy magic use. Give me a day or two, and I’ll be good as new.” I offered her a reassuring smile.
She didn’t look convinced and examined me like a bug under a microscope.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I promise I’m good,” I reassured her.
She huffed, but nodded, accepting my words.
I spent the next two days on the porch, feet propped on the railing, a book in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. It was a peaceful routine, interrupted only by the occasional “patients” seeking my help. The growing pile of plants was proof of the steady trickle of visitors, and I couldn’t shake the suspicion that if this continued, Al might outright refuse to leave.
Most of the critters that came to me didn’t speak, but on the second evening, I did get another visit from a talking snake. This one was longer, thicker, and a deep emerald green, but it spoke with the same respect and formal tone as the red snake before. It slithered closer, its movements smooth and deliberate, and greeted me like I was some kind of elder. The formality of it all was still surreal.
After I healed his cracked fang, I asked, “Do you know why all the pagodas around us are empty?”
“Yes, venerable Healing Sage,” he replied, fixing me with its unblinking gaze.
I waited, expecting more, but the silence stretched uncomfortably. After nearly half a minute, I prompted, “And why are they empty?”
The snake’s body shifted in a wavy motion that I guessed might be embarrassment, though I wasn’t fluent in “snake body language.” “A grand battle unfolded several moons past,” he said, its tone somber. “Many cultivators were slain.”
“How long ago?” I pressed.
“Many moons.”
I studied him for a moment and realized he wasn’t being evasive—it was just snake logic. “Many moons” probably translated to “months” in its world, and from his point of view, it was an accurate time estimate.
“And what happened to the bodies of those who died?” I asked, keeping my tone even.
The snake’s body rippled again, the motion more pronounced this time. It squirmed, coiling and uncoiling slightly, before finally looking at me with what I could only describe as reluctant resignation. Its form seemed to sag as it admitted, “The creatures of the forest feasted for a time, several embarking on the path of ascension.”
“I see. Thank you for your answers, noble snake,” I said, inclining my head slightly.
He bobbed up and down in what I took as a polite farewell, then slithered off into the forest at surprising speed—probably eager to escape before I could ask any more uncomfortable questions.
I investigated the pagodas; their pristine condition had been nagging at my curiosity. The tallest of the group stood closest to the house, so it made sense to start there. The structure was elegant yet understated, its doors and windows appearing deceptively flimsy. Despite their appearance, I was sure they were more than they seemed, likely protected by some form of defense.
I gave the pagoda a thorough once-over, studying it from top to bottom. My eyes searched for any clues, while my mana sense probed for hidden secrets. Yet, nothing stood out—no runes, magic script, or clumps of mana that would indicate their presence. The exterior appeared unremarkable, but I sensed something: mana infused most of the structure. It wasn’t a property of the material itself; something had been done to it after construction, leaving me burning with curiosity. How did they do that?
For a moment—well, maybe two—I seriously considered breaking in to satisfy my questions. The temptation was strong, but I shook it off. Sure, I’d “liberated” property before, but always with a reason I could justify. Here, there was none. My internal compass of right and wrong wouldn’t let me cross that line, no matter how much I wanted answers. Instead, I stood back and let the mystery simmer in my mind, hoping another piece of the puzzle would eventually reveal itself.
A thorough inspection of two more pagodas didn’t shed any additional light on the mystery. Like the first, they were somehow enchanted to remain immaculately clean, untouched by the passage of time or the elements. Defensive measures were undoubtedly in place, but their nature was unclear. I had no idea—no inkling even—how they achieved any of it. The craftsmanship was as baffling as it was impressive, leaving me both impressed and frustrated.
While inspecting the third pagoda, a sudden gust of wind swept through, tousling my hair and reminding me I still needed to make nice with the local elements. I closed my eyes and reached out, letting my awareness extend toward the wind. The connection came almost effortlessly—smooth and natural, like finding the rhythm in a familiar song.
At first, there was a faint resistance, a sensation I could only describe as the wind asking, “Who are you exactly?” It felt inquisitive, curious but not hostile. After a moment, the connection clicked into place, like a handshake finally accepted. A sense of understanding passed between us, as though the wind had decided I was worth its time.
Next, I returned home, lit a fire in the fire pit on the porch, and let my senses sink into the flames. In this world, the fire felt more mature than I was used to—not the bratty teenager she had been elsewhere, but still not quite fully grown. Her reactions lacked the dramatic “ugh, fine, whatever” attitude I’d encountered before. Instead, there was a hesitance, as if she hadn’t entirely made up her mind about me.
I poured my mana into the fire, deliberately infusing it with the essence of fire—its warmth, its hunger, its raw, untamed energy. I added a flourish to emphasize our connection, shooting a couple of red lightning bolts into the pit while projecting the thought, “We’re closely related, bound by nature. We share a connection.”
She wavered for a moment, reluctant, before finally relenting. It wasn’t the easy and natural acceptance I’d felt from the wind. This was more cautious, like a trial basis agreement: “I’ll give you a chance, but don’t push your luck, buddy.”
Still, that was good enough in my book. Progress was progress, even if it came with conditions.
While Al was processing the “magnificent plants,” and I was busy with snakes, pagodas, and elements, Mahya fished in the lake. I used the fire to grill the fish and some vegetables and made a fish sauce with butter, garlic, and white wine, leaving the rest of the bottle to accompany the food.
Rue liked big fish with big filet pieces, but the fish Mahya caught were too small, and he had trouble with the fish bones. I grilled him some “big pigy,” aka, Winter Hog, and he was content.
The scent of grilled fish and roasted root vegetables filled the air as we sat around the table, plates piled high with food. The firelight danced off the wooden walls of the porch, casting flickering shadows as I leaned back in my chair, content.
“I think it’s time to move on,” I said, breaking the comfortable quiet.
Mahya’s eyes lit up instantly, and a smile spread across her face. “Finally!” she exclaimed, spearing a chunk of fish with her fork. “I was starting to feel like a tree taking root here.”
Al, on the other hand, frowned and set down his fork with a deliberate clink. “Could we not stay a while longer?” he asked, his tone carefully measured. “There’s still a steady stream of... ‘patients,’ and their payments are proving rather fruitful.” He smirked at his own joke, though his eyes revealed a flicker of genuine interest in staying.
Rue, sprawled under the table, let out an exaggerated huff before sitting up, his ears perked. “Silly Al! Other beasts know my John is Healing Sage,” he said. His tail wagged excitedly as he added, “They will find us. Ask for help.”
“You are saying the beasts will simply... come to us?” Al asked, the doubt clear in his tone.
Rue puffed out his chest, his tail wagging harder. “Yes! All know of Healing Sage. Word spreads like wind!”
Mahya burst into laughter, nearly choking on her food. “All hail the Healing Sage.”
I stuck my tongue out at her, and she laughed harder.
I shrugged and took another bite of fish. “If Rue says it, it must be true,” I said with a smirk.
Al sighed, though a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “Very well,” he said, lifting his fork again. “I suppose there is little reason to delay.”
Rue gave an excited bark and flopped back under the table, pleased with his diplomatic victory.
After dinner, we gathered around the table to play 7 Wonders. To everyone’s surprise—and slight irritation—Rue won, fair and square. He expertly maneuvered his civilization through the final stages, racking up the most victory points with a combination of completed wonders, well-established trade routes, and impressive scientific achievements. By the end, his empire was flourishing, leaving the rest of us in the dust, our civilizations looking like amateur hour in comparison.
Mahya crossed her arms and muttered under her breath, “He cheated.” But even she had to admit there was no proof to back it up. For his part, Rue sat there, radiating waves of smugness, as if victory had been inevitable from the start.
