[Opal Clinic] A Healer's Touch (Darren)

[Veldrys]

„Vervain“, the Symenestra repeated and smiled slightly. „Did you know that the name of my Web – my family – is Vervain? Symenestra tend to name themselves after plants.“ He bent down to inspect the bushes that Cian had called ‚orangeroot‘. „Many of these plants don’t grow in Kalinor“, he murmurred as he checked whether Cian had anything in his garden that he didn’t have at home. „We have to buy them from traders or gather them in the wilderness above the city, so your offer is definitely appreciated. I’ll take a bit of vervain and thorn apple with me if you don’t mind.“

„Poisoned?“ He looked up, a little worried. „Did you ever find out which poison it was? And why would somebody poison a child?“ Would the outcome have been different if a man that had been marked by Viratas had treated the boy, if his blood had been purified? No, Cian had said that you shouldn’t rely on the gods too much. Sometimes it was better to use conventional healing methods. Having come to that conclusion Veldrys put the plants he had picked aside and helped Cian to weed the garden.

„No, I suppose the gods aren’t omnipotent“, he agreed. „Otherwise they would have saved my people.“ There was a hint of sadness in his voice as he said that. „Sometimes all they can do is give us hints, a few useful tools, and sometimes they aren’t even capable of that. Sometimes they seem like more powerful, immortal versions of us.“ Was it heresy if you compared gods to mortals? Maybe, but on the other hand gods were capable of love and hatred, of joy and sadness just like mortals, and a lover’s revenge sometimes had the potential to destroy the world.

[Caelum]

"Is it?" The corners of Cian's eyes crinkled, struck with a companionable humor by the revelation of Vervain being the name of Veldrys' web. A clump of uprooted weeds was dropped into their growing pile and with his fingers he jerked at the laces of his shirt in order to pull down the collar. Against the line of his collarbone, half hidden beneath the wings and serpentine whirl of his second mark from Rak'keli was an artistic rendering in ink of the vervain blossom. It looked to be almost as old as he, faded against sun washed skin. "Where I come from," he confided with a flicker of a smile he knew well to be mysterious, "Vervain means enchantment. Of course, you and I know it possesses a great many medicinal properties, ones that have nothing to do with magic." A shrug tilted his shoulders and he bent his head back over the blessing of work. It was easy to imagine that he often corralled hale and whole visitors to the clinic to assist in the daily chores whensoever he was able. "Maybe that makes us connected," he went on thoughtfully. "A web of Vervain stretches out beyond the walls of Kalinor, you think? What would Viratas have to say of that?" He glanced briefly up, his expression not unkind. "Do you honestly imagine all that is missing from the solution for your race's continuance is the ability of a god? Veldrys, don't you think amid our holy pantheon there is more tricks and twists than that? Though I suppose you could be right. It could be that there is only the ability or knowledge of the way yet lacking. Not actually divine will or differing intentions." It would seem from his phrasing that the healer believed just exactly that. It may very well be the ability was missing in the gods to cure the curse of the Symnestra, but Cian personally would laugh his way all the way to Hai if that was all that stood in the way. Perhaps this somewhat caustic view of the gods was but a piece of his greater comprehension. Perhaps it was not. Either way he was marked over many times by more than one god. For one reason, or another. "Why would someone poison a child?" He scowled at the weeds he was pulling up. "The same reasons they might anyone else. Ambition. Revenge. Terror."

[Veldrys]

As Cian pulled down his collar and revealed his tattoo, the Symenestra arched an eyebrow and smiled slightly. „What are you then? An enchanter? It’s strange, isn’t it? That the word ‚vervain‘ holds a special meaning for both of us?“ He furrowed his brow a little. „I think that Viratas would like this“, he decided. „He is the god of community, isn’t he? He brings people together. In a way we are all connected, no matter where we come from.“

„Maybe there is more to it than that“, he agreed. „Do you think the gods want my people to be saved?“ He wasn’t wondering about that for the first time. It was a depressing thought, but one that had to be considered. Or maybe the gods were simply indifferent towards the suffering of the Symenestra. What did less than a thousand people matter when compared to something like the Valterrian or the fate of the great city of Syliras?

„Terror“, he repeated and nodded. „If that was their goal, they were successful. Do you think there’ll be another murder? Maybe this was only the beginning …“ He focused his attention on the plants again. He found that work comforting, calming.

[Caelum]

“It is the beginning of something alright,” Cian muttered darkly, dropping a clump of straggling weeds into the pile. Rich earth crumbled fragrant from entangled roots. An arm rose, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his brow. “I’m a man,” he answered the question of what was he. A man and little more. His eyes came to rest again upon Veldrys, something thoughtful and abnormally wary in their depths. The smile he finally offered the Symenestra was small and apologetic, as if the words he was about to speak he knew in his heart would wound. “There are a great many gods, Veldrys, too many for me to say. My gods? Yes, I believe my gods want to see the salvation of your race come to pass; but consider, friend,” and here he forgot about the herb garden and the wind that trickled soft through all the windchimes he strung from the branches of citrus trees in hopes of things long since lost. “Define saving. By that most would mean the Symenestra race, freeing them of the curse that kills their mothers and thins all future prospects with every birth.” He paused, searching for something in Veldrys’ eyes. “Is that what you mean?”

[Veldrys]

„No“, the Symenestra disagreed and shook his head. „You are more than just a man. The marks you bear, the things you say, they set you apart from the rest of Denval. I don’t think I can compare to you, despite Viratas‘ blessing.“ He pulled out a bit of weed and tossed it onto Cian’s pale. He had never done work like this before – in Kalinor there were no gardens – but he decided that he didn’t mind.

As he noticed the look on the healer’s face, he furrowed his brow. There was something dark about it, wary, as if he was about to say something that the Symenestra wouldn’t like. „That was what I meant“, he quietly confirmed and sighed. „The removal of the curse that causes any woman a Symenestra is with to die. Do you think there’s any chance of that happening? Do you think that a god will come one day and save us?“

„Do you think any mortal man will ever accomplish what the gods have not done so far?“ he asked even though he was aware that the chance that such a thing would happen was small.