Curing my Curse [Caelum]

[Talen Stirling]

Talen looked visibly calmed though he was abit embarassed. He didn't hold any grudge towards magicians or gnosis - but he didn't have much knowledge or understanding of it either. He was a little nervous dealing with magic because he had no control over it. He felt silly for being so illogically nervous and looked up at the healer with a steady gaze. The pain of the stab was short and he only winced slightly as the needle punctured his skin. He looked at the wound with distaste - He always felt uneasy when he was hurt because he knew it would take a long time to heal. He didn't shy away from danger - but getting bleedings were something that he loathed and tried to avoid, a wound in an unfortunate place might make him incapable of putting stress on a limb for weeks. It felt weird too, having someone watched him bleed, yet his discomfort was abruptly ended with a single question. "what motivated you to join the Watch". Looking into the wooden table with eyes that didn't see it, he pondered for a moment. Not that he hadn't thought about that question before or didn't have an answer at hand, but because sometimes it wasn't clear to himself whether it was duty, heritage or hope that had kept him on the road to become one of the Watch. He raised his head and spoke slowly, as he explained the answer to a question he'd asked several times before. "Perhaps it is more than one thing." He mused shortly, and then continued. "For one thing, my Father was in the guard. He died on duty, but in a way I feel I can honour his memory by lifting up his sword for Denval.. Which is also my duty and my calling as one of the city that raised me. To do my best for it." He smiled shyly at the healer, his simple goals sounded so lofty and correct when he explained them. Scratching his tousled hair for a moment, he continued in an airy manner, as if he was speaking to a crowd or both of them. "Also, I like to help people. I like to find hope and to pick up on things, to try to do the right thing. Maybe I just seek approval or to be liked, but whichever the case I wanna do that, and I can do so in the Watch."

[Caelum]

"A devotee of Denval deserves better than this," the physician murmured. It was unclear as to whether he was talking to himself or his stalwart patient. Throughout Talen's earnest reply, Cian had been hunched over his hand. It was in study of the callouses sword work had left behind, the tracing of veins whose names he recited silently to himself like a litany in honor of the absent Viratas. Blood beaded from the tip of the Watchman's middle finger, swelling beyond the barrier of its own bubble to trickle cobweb thin down whatever line the paths of fingerprint indentations and gravity provided. The blood ought to have stopped leaking like dew drops long before it actually did. A lifetime of tending to injuries of every size, shape and result had taught Cian at least that much. "I've seen this before," he said finally, eyes lifting from where was he still basically huddled around Talen's hand. "Once. I admit it isn't terribly surprising considering the distinct lack of outsider blood that has been available to Denvali citizen since Ivak's Grief."

[Talen Stirling]

Talen twisted abit in his seat, though he didn't move his hand much. He felt happy for the compliment, but sitting here and spilling his guts so much had made him a little uncomfortable. He didn't know much about Cian, and although he liked him well enough there was something off about him. Perhaps it was the way he was so analysing or calculative, but that was probably normal in healer's who'd seen the most grievous of things in their travels. He was obviously gaining some secret information from the bleeding that Talen couldn't understand, perhaps he could do something about it afterall. Then again, the silence made him doubtful. Did it mean he had a hard time figuring it out? When the healer looked up at him and spoke, he felt a little relieved. Ivak's grief? He'd heard the story of the Valterrian yet not remembered all of it. Perhaps he should read up on it sometime, yet now another question seemed more urgent now. "You've seen it before? Can you do anything about it?!" he leaned forward and the eagerness in his own voice surprised him. He knew he wanted this but hadn't imagined he'd start yelling at this man. He composed himself and awaited his judgement.

[Caelum]

Talen was given startled eyes. The corners of Cian's mouth twitched, curving ultimately into an apologetic smile. "Yes," he answered the younger man steadily. "I can." The wad of gauze was pressed into Talen's hand for the needle prick and Cian slid off the stool, shuffling around in order to straighten out the box of strange needles and close the lid of a bubbly glass jar. He was fidgeting, really, beneath the guise of straightening his work space. His head was bowed in a messy spill of hair, a thoughtful frown imprinting his mouth until at last he sighed. "It will work," he stated with the absolute certainty of a man who had slaved a lifetime in Rak'keli's arms. It was the price that seemed to weigh upon him, that he attempted to shrug off with a backwards roll of rangy shoulders and a turn to face Talen again. A fresh smile appeared. "We can cure you."

[Talen Stirling]

Cian's startled eyes were met with Talen's bewildered, shocked and joyous stare when he claimed he could do it. He wasn't even sure how to react, instead he just sat there and watched Cian move objects and clean up the desk frantically, holding a gauze wrap rather tightly. He found it hard to imagine how a cure for his curse would affect him; it was abit too overwhelming how it would all be different. Every kind of wound he'd gained and how differently they would have turned out if he hadn't had his disease. Hell, small scratches that always bothered him for weeks might just not be much of an inconvenience anymore. That tiny fact descended on him, and he smiled as the following conclusions came. No more ending up in bed because of a bleeding. No more running home to the barracks because of a scratch. He wouldn't be a burden on anyone else or a threat to himself in the way he was now. Cian's demeanour did seem abit... Weighed down. As if something was off, but when he turned to smile he seemed reassuring as ever, and absolutely self-confident. He would owe this man alot. "Thank you... How can you do it?" He smiled, both looking and feeling a little nervous. Whatever this man could do probably wouldn't be that simple, though he had no knowledge of medicine and magical healing. Still, he was already immensely grateful, and ready for whatever he had in mind to get cured.

[Caelum]

“That is precisely what we need to figure out,” Cian explained. There was both reassurance and apology in his smile. Hands fell to the slant of lean hips, slouching him comfortably down as he took stock of the hopeful young guardsmen. The weight of that expectation was familiar, his shoulders long since accustomed to the bearing of it; and he had borne it proudly now for longs year past the hour in which he ought to have faltered, tripping over the feet of a broken soul. His broken soul that was, due to the grace of several gods holding it together like puppeteer strings, not actually broken at all. “There is a cure,” he stated this with certainty, “But I was not pleased with the cost of it the first and last time it was performed. Therefore, this time, I need to ruminate on it longer and suggest you, too, confer with the gods. Rak’keli,” and there was a light in his eyes when he spoke Her name, “And Viratas most especially. We’ll find a way through this, and in the meantime I’m going to put together a treatment for you that will help contest the symtoms.”

[Talen Stirling]

The healer's words were like water to Talen's furiously joyous mind. There'd be no peace yet, there was work to come and he was not sure how to do it yet. His smile didn't disappear completely though, only diminished. He didn't expect it to be so easy; but he was ready to do whatever task or go through whatever test that this man saw fit to set before him. At least, so he thought. As usual it was not strange for Talen to follow the lead of others. Cian's further words worried him. He should confer with the gods? No god or goddess had ever given him a sign or chosen to speak to him, not even Priskil who were closest to his heart, her symbol resting as a small token upon his chest even as they spoke. Still, he smiled at the man who offered to save him from his curse with a vibrant gratitude. "I will do my best to try and follow your instructions Master Cian, though I doubt the gods will answer any question I ask them.. Can you make something like that? After this is all over I'll be in a debt I can never fully return." He meant the last phrase, he owed this man a favour now that he wanted to return. Although, he knew no way of doing so...

[Caelum]

"Talen," Cian remarked gently, "You will owe me nothing." Not once had Cian ever requested payment in any form for his services. He was completely supported by the Denvali's generosity and what gifts of gratitude, whatever form they took, granted him by patients. His words were not empty, either, for he expected nothing; and in the wake of them his grin climbed back up. He was already growing fond of the young Watchman. "You wish to thank someone, thank Rak'keli. As for the gods," and here he turned for the door that lead into the back gardens. He tilted his head in invitation. "They hear more than you might think. Nosy as cats, they are," and one familiar with Rak'keli might imagine her giggling at her priest's wit. "Priskil," he went on to note, "As much as any other. The gods may chose to show themselves in," he considered, "Other ways. You're on the right path already. You came to me." He shot Talen a smirk and meandered carefully through the rows of vegetables and herbs, neat and flourishing in fertile soil. Beyond these rows yawned an orchard that spilled to the very lip of the sea cliff, so close that one might imagine apples plunking down to crash with the waves against the rocks below.

[Talen Stirling]

Talen smiled a little embarassed at himself both for speaking in such grand tones yet actually having nothing to offer. Obviously, it was not a problem to Cian but he felt it was wrong to receive his aid without having anything to give in return. He got up quickly with supporting on the table with one hand and followed the healer's invitation. He would thank the gods, and ask them for their favour as he adviced. Someone like him would know - Thrice blessed by Rak'keli and having not only her favour. It was reassuring, if he said they listened then perhaps it was true... Or perhaps only in his case. "I'll thank them, and everyone else who has earned it." He answered the healer quietly and gave him a smile back. Following him out into the garden, he took a deep breath which almost left him coughing with the heavy scents of flowers and plants. It was a nice place, the garden was bountiful in both edible fruits and beautiful flowers. Talen knew few of their names, and even fewer of their purposes, yet he enjoyed walking through it as much as anyone. Talen patiently followed Cian wherever they went. Guard duty bred patience, and walking was something he did plenty of around town. At least this place he had never seen before, and there was much to see. He began to wonder, though. He knew of Cian, the healer had come like the sun itself above the horizon and brought healing and life to Denval. He heard he was an active man, both with women and with friends... Sort of. He knew nothing of the man's past, nothing of him finding a permanent sweetheart. Which was strange not to in a small place like Denval. Regardless, he would deliver Talen from his curse and he'd do anything to achieve that goal. At least so he thought.

[Caelum]

"There are caves in the sea cliffs," Cian began to say while walking through the rows. He stepped over an organized tangle of what appeared to be nothing more extraordinary than catnip and ambled on. It was notable how much more organized were Cian's herb and vegetable gardens than the rest of his clinic. The first line of fruit bearing trees in the orchard that sprouted up at the foot of the gardens boasted pears. There were a handful of rotten samples splattered on the ground, feast for a white breasted doves and gutsy gulls. Cian rocked to a halt, tugging his hands out of his pockets, right before the canopy shadow of the pear trees spilled over him. There he sank, head bowing in the sunshine, to spread with careful hands shielding grasses aside to reveal a cluster of strange, brilliant flowers spiking and flourishing in their hiding space. "Moisture gets trapped in these places. The temperature is more stable.." He trailed off, peering down at this bright, exotic flower hiding in plain sight of his garden. Glancing back at Talen, he seemed to surface from a mire and flashed an apologetic smile. The cant of his chin was beckoning. "There are fungi there you won't find in many other places. Some you'll find nowhere else. This flower, Talen, is Myrdas. I carried it a long, long way to have it here to aide the population of Denval. With it's help and a certain mushroom, I can make you that antidote."