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Trash: Chapter 53 They Do What to Healers?
🕑 Added 2025-11-30 14:01:25 +0000 UTCChapter 53
They Do What to Healers?
(30 Minutes Later)
It was well past midnight by the time anyone dared check in on me.
“You good?” Lucia asked, her voice projecting far from another tunnel exit that had been partially barricaded.
“Yes,” I responded and meant it, as by now the rate of healing that Seal Master Carthwright needed was less and less frequent. Better still there were no new plumes of mana being leaked out, implying that at least a partial seal had been created on his body somehow.
This was an area beyond me, but something I might need to look into, in the future.
“Okay,” was all they responded with, before resealing themselves away. That said, I could still make out their hushed conversations and shadows that danced under the barricades, all of which showed that they were still close, just not in sight. While the others all seemed to be avoiding distracting me, proceeding to be as quiet as possible for me, by contrast Mr. Carthwright was a downright chatterbox once he got going.
“You will need to forgive me, but I think you are stuck at your current Seal rankings,” the old man began.
“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” I responded. A bit more vitriol filling my words than intended. Now that I had more time to think about everything, I realized that this whole process was not ideal to say the least.
“Don’t worry, about the possible explosions,” Mr. Carthwright finally wheezed out.
“Yeah, nothing takes your mind off the possibility of exploding, like saying don’t worry about it,” I responded.
Painful chuckle.
With that Mr. Carthwright laughs slightly, a faint crack in his otherwise aristocratic mask that he has built up for himself.
“Ah, you are going to be a delight when you become a true healer,” the Seal Master began. Though there was a hint of something, possibly regret in his words that spoke of a faint sorrow.
“You act as if we are easy to kill?” I respond.
More painful chuckles.
“You remind me of my Ankarah,” he began, his eyes going a bit misty which is never a good sign as it means he could be quitting on me. I also see his heart rate go down slightly, as if relaxing, despite being in a lot of pain. Apparently wild mana does not go well with body tissue as it corrodes away the nearby organs and structures. Worse, Metal and Water apparently corrode at different rates and show different processes, meaning I need to be even more aware of what I am doing to treat.
Metal apparently hardens organs, blocks veins and arteries, and basically mucks up the works. Whereas Water seems like it would be nicer, until you realize that hyperosmosis is a thing, and that all that water supersaturates the normal cells causing them to burst, which then causes a cascading effect of water induced failure among the remaining cells. All of this needs to be healed, while cycling out the excess water from the system, that is used to carry away the excess metal that you remove from the other parts of the body. Meanwhile, while I am working on these effects, he seems to be close to quitting on me, which losing a life of a patient is tough in any lifetime.
“Ankarah?” I ask, catching onto the one word that he placed the most emphasis on.
“Yes, she was my wife, my one and only love. She was a healer, like you, well she didn’t have the back of the Blooms, and she was considered a middling talent at best, but she still caught my eye and then my heart.”
Real sappy stuff, but it’s keeping him alive, which is good as his heart rate is increasing, as is his body temperature.
“What happened to her?” I asked, realizing that he is talking about her in past tense.
“She was kidnapped, when the border region collapsed,” Mr. Carthwright began, his eyes going distant as he began talking with the most pain I’d ever heard.
“The thing is, I knew she was alive, I had Seal that connected us, that’s my class,” he began, as if telling me a secret.
“I got that part,” I reply, which was enough for him to focus on me for a moment before nodding to himself and letting his eyes go distant as he recounted his story.
“The thing is, no one believed me at the time. It wasn’t until I revealed my Seal and showed that she was still alive, somehow in the cursed lands that people began to listen. But despite the expeditions we never could find her.” As he got to this point he licked his lips and his heart rate began to rise.
“You don’t need to tell me,” I cut in, realizing that he was likely going to do more harm than good if he continued with this line of conversation.
“I do,” he began as he turned to me and locked gazes with me. Then somehow finding resolve by looking at me, “I need to tell you what is out there, what they will do to you.”
“They?” I ask suddenly confused.
“The undead legions, and they are legions, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. While they might fight amongst themselves for dominance, they will team up to exterminate anything living in their corrupted lands.”
A slight pause, my mind is going wild as I have not heard about this, then again I did realize that my family, that is the DiVoratore family noted that I would fulfill the family obligations by entering into the military. They even marked down my name on a card that they forced me to sign.
I signed the card thinking that being forced into the military wouldn’t be so bad, particularly if it got me away from the DiVoratores, but now I wonder what happened to that registration. Signing that card was nice, as it meant that grandfather would personally see to it that I was not bothered by the other DiVoratore family members while under his roof. An even trade, I got mostly left alone, save for the occasional spirit watcher, and I would get a trade and a chance to make it away from the DiVoratore estate, a win-win in my book. Though now, I realize that it was likely too good to be true.
However, before I could go down that rabbit hole of what ifs, Mr. Carthwright continued.
“We could find every body, everyone from the lowliest latrine scrubber, to the bodies of the most powerful fighters. Everyone but the healers,” he began speaking. As he spoke, I began to wonder if this was nothing more than an old man trying to tell a ghost story to an awakened DiVoratore. Or at least to a person with the DiVoratore bloodline fully awakened in their body. It sounded strange, but then again, something about his delivery told me this was all true, mainly because he didn’t show the increased spikes or twisting movements most would have while telling such an audacious lie, which made me feel that this was all true in some way.
“I went back, trying to find her, to find my Ankarah. Even after her seal broke and showed she was no longer amongst the living, I continued to go out looking for her. To find her body, if nothing else.” Carthwright continued, and I could hear the love he had for her. The idea of going out to a wasteland to try to find your dead wife’s body, just to bring it home to rest, that spoke volumes of his character.
A long pause filled the air, as I he no doubt was recalling more and more of these past memories. While I contemplated if the tracking seal might actually be a good thing.
“I saw her,” Carthwright finally continued, as he did one large slow tear formed and fell from his right eye leaving an unmistakable trail down his now rosy-red cheek.
“Who?” I ask, though I am pretty sure I already know.
“I saw her, my Ankarah,” he replied, but then let out a pain filled gasp. Just before I was about to console him about her likely dying easily, despite wear and tear on the body, he flipped the script on me entirely.
“But she had been changed, I don’t know what type of dark rituals they used on her, but the next time I saw my Ankarah, was when she was a Death Eater.”
“Death Eater?” I questioned.
“Yes, an undead monster capable of sniffing out life, and striking from the shadows. The perfect killer of humans in a harsh scorching desert environment during the day, that turns into a frigid wasteland at night.” Carthwright continued describing these wastelands as some form of desert wasteland.
“You sure it was her? I mean the desert heat could play tricks on anyone,” I protested trying to help the old man calm down as this was clearly something traumatic he had experienced.
“I know it was her,” he cried out, closing his eyes and forcing two more tears to form, this time one in each eye. “Because she slaughtered the supply group I had been attached to, only leaving a single horse and me alive. She had me dead to rights, but then she paused as she saw me. Even with her face half rotting and hidden by rags I could tell it was her, as her eyes were still as vibrant and beautiful as ever.
Shivering.
Something about the memory was too raw and painful as the old man began to shiver, causing me to bring him closer and try to continue to cycle my healing energy into him, getting his core temperature to rise, even as the last of his cells were still being blocked or ripped apart by excess water.
We ended our happy discussion on that note and I was left to my own thoughts on what exactly were Death Eaters, and if healers were really a prized commodity for the undead. Maybe they still needed the living somehow in order to survive, and having one healer was the same thing as having a platoon of soldiers?
If that was the case, then yeah, having a tracker for people to find me might not be such a bad thing.
Snoring.
Mr. Carthwright eventually went to a full and deep sleep, which given how much he had gone through both physical and emotionally I couldn’t blame him. Also, his body was mostly past the hard part now so he could sleep, as I was relatively certain all we were waiting on now was the rest of the resting combustible mana to eventually dissipate.
Slurp, warble, slurp.
I was just getting to the point where I thought I would be left alone here indefinitely, when I heard something licking the plate I still had on the ground. The plate that held my half eaten second sandwich. The sandwich that I had purposefully left alone, due to my words with Mr. Carthwright about his not passing away until I finished my second sandwich.
Turning to my side, I was shocked to see the giant four-hundred-pound phase panther right there laying casually on the ground, content to lick up the remaining crumbs after apparently finishing the remainder of my sandwich.
“Hey, I was eating that,” I complain to the cat. The cat for its part just looked at me confusedly, then thinking about it, I could see why she was at a loss as it had been a good half hour or longer since I last touched the sandwich.
Sighing reluctantly, I just wave my hand at the cat, “go on, finish it.”
With that, the cat drags it huge pink tongue against the disk twice more, before stopping. At which point it low-crawls over to my right side and places its head just where my right hand was to help support my body.
Seeing it, I pause for a moment, before shaking my head and petting the cat. If the giant four hundred pound killing cat is here, then the danger should be mostly over, right?
Purr.
The giant killing tank of a creature begins purring at just snuggling up next to me, which is apparently the way to tell me that it is ready for scratches, which I reluctantly apply. And we all stay like this for I don’t know how long. The passed out Carthwright being administered to with my left hand, and my right hand scratching a giant killer on my right side, while I of course think about Death Eaters. Wondering how they got the name exactly, do they actually eat the dead? Or is there something more to this.
I need to do some research, and likely figure out exactly what happens to healers once they come of age. For a while I had been thinking I would be fine in the military, but these past few nights have opened my eyes to the horrors of this world and make me realize I need to ask more questions.
Of course, questions is what Lady, the phase panther pretending to be asleep against my leg right now’s handler is apparently doing.
“Has anyone seen Lady?” A concerned voice cries out, and instantly I remember that voice as belonging to Kiera Bembry.
“She’s over here!” I call out, making sure to project my voice.
There is a pause, and finally a shuffle as hastily constructed barricades are slowly moved out of the way to reveal a panicked looking handler and a number of very curious fighters and Sal.
“Do you think it’s safe to go out there?” A few people ask.
“We could get the testers, but I assume if the cat is out there, then it is safe,” Sal’s logical voice called out.
Hearing his words I look down to the oversized cat that is slowly turning its body to get scratches at a different part of its enormous neck, just under the ears. I cycle a bit of my new healing Skill into her as well, just to make sure she is fine.
“I’ll get the manacrometer,” Mousey calls out.
And like that, the tensions finally subsided, tests were made, and ultimately I was finally allowed to go, much to the chagrin of a large cat that had to be lured away by sandwiches, multiple sandwiches that suddenly no one else was in the mood to have. I thought about getting another, but realized one and a half was enough for me.
“Ready to leave?” Madame Bloom asked.
At that, I realized there was still a lot that technically needed to be completed, the fallout from the princeling’s failed proposal, or was it actually happening still? The Seal needed to be applied, and god forbid the speeches needed to continue. I realized all of these facts, but then just nodded and excitedly replied honestly.
“Those are the best words I have heard all night.”
We left, not saying a single word to anyone on our way out, just five of us quickly making our way as fast as possible out of the arena. It wasn’t until we were about half way out that I realized Madame Voyou was apparently following us, I assume she worked out passage with Madame Bloom while I was otherwise occupied.
We made the way to the streets, before getting into our carriage where the night driver once again took us away.
Phew.
Only once our wheels started rolling did I let out a sigh of relief.
“Long night?” Madame Voyou asked.
I just nodded exhaustedly, still flushing the harmful toxins from my body to help keep my mind active and alert.
There was a long silence as we watched the main parts of the inner city blur past. Only once we were far enough away, did Madame Bloom ask possibly the most obvious of questions ever.
“I take it, you have some questions from tonight?” Madame Bloom asked.
Scoff.
I just laughed before responding honestly, “you could say that.”
Comments
Nicole Sparks
Of course, questions is what Lady, the phase panther pretending to be asleep against my leg right now’s handler is apparently doing. -> Of course, one question is what the handler for Lady, the phase panther currently pretending to be asleep against my leg, is doing. Glad you’re not going too dark on this.
Lorraine V
Tftc
