“I don’t wish to be a White Mage grandfather!” I whined from below my blanket, watching how the dust danced with the streaming of the light through the thin blanket. A gentle hand touched my shoulder and soothed my arising sobs. “Why can’t I be a wormhole wizard?”
Slowly and diffidently, my grandfather scooped by shaking body and cradled me in his arms. “Child, you have to appreciate your power. Not everyone is born to be a wormhole wizard; you must learn your place in this life.”
“The kids from town laugh at me,” I continued, “everything I can do is heal, heal, and heal. I want to be powerful…”
“Sometimes being powerful doesn’t just mean you will blast your enemies off and gain respect through that,” he whispered, “being powerful also means standing by your standards and hone your powers. Being powerful means being generous to those below you and respectful to those above you whilst never losing civility to any.”
I didn’t understand his words, until today. Being a wormhole wizard wasn’t as important as being who I was and what I was: a White Mage. People will profit from the goodness of your power, and if contrary the case, will suffer from the wrath of it. The battle was over and I had been unconscious for god knows how much time. I push my limp body up and swayed on my feet, immediately I start healing myself and in search of my fellow comrades to offer my abilities to their battered bodies.
“Arianna!” I heard a distant voice, “Arianna!” It was getting louder and louder until finally the figure of Blason appeared before me, his left side of the face was swollen and a deep cut ran along his left arm. “Arianna, I’m glad to have found you.”
“Blason,” I walked to him and supported his staggering body. “Here, let me heal you…”
“No,” he pushed my hand away, “save your energy to heal someone else. Aria needs you; she has been wounded seriously and bleeding uncontrollably.” I quickly limped back from where he came from. Finally we arrived to the town’s plaza, it was semi-destroyed. Delilah and Lucy were sitting together, whispering between themselves, the members of the cult were nowhere to be seen.
“Sir,” I gulped, “I have some bad news for you… Chase…”
“I know,” he said solemnly, a tear forming in his eyes. “Heal her first and then we’ll deal with it.”
I knelt down beside Aria’s half-conscious body. Her face was pale from the amount of blood she lost, the multiple cuts and lacerations from her body were deep and premeditated, as if she had been tortured rather than dueled against. The ground below her was soaking all the blood, turning the soil to a dark, crimson color.
“What happened?” I asked, feeling the energy fill my hands. I started with the wound on her arm; I clasped my hands on the wound and let the flow of energy do the rest of the work. I felt new skin stretched across the wound, her arm showered and glowing with white light.
“Alastor…” I heard her whisper tiredly.
“Speed it up, Arianna,” Blason suggested, “we don’t know when they might be back. Judging by how he left Aria, I’d say he’d want to torture her again. I want to make sure she is fit to defend herself next time.”
I nodded and increased my energy on the healing. Her wounds were slowly starting to close and some color was rising to her cheeks. I felt sorry for her; she must’ve suffered a lot under the tyrannical strains of her brother. I clenched my fist, I had decided on the path of remaining a White Mage while training to become a powerful wormhole wizard.
The healing task ended and Aria wasn’t bleeding anymore. The amount and depth of her wounds required most of my energy and concentration and by the end of it I was tired to death. I sat, with crossed legs before her resting body. Something was going on in her mind, as if waging a battle against the tears that wouldn’t stream down her face.
“Why does he hates me?” I heard her mumbled. I stroke her head, just like my grandfather used to do it.
“He fears you,” I told her. I saw her nod absentmindedly and she went back to her silent musings. I turned to Blason, “I still have energy left to cure you…”
“Hey guys!” Ryan came rushing to our side, flapping his arms in excitement. “I found him, I found Chase! He is in the outskirts of the town, badly hurt!”
“Save it for my apprentice,” Blason winced as he stood up and half-sprinted to Ryan. I helped Aria up and the rest of us followed Ryan to where Chase was said to be found. Relief washed over me at the sole thought that he had escaped and he wasn’t dead. After walking for some minutes we arrived at the place and found his beat-up body on the ground.
My heart raced as I saw him unconscious in the ground.
“It’s okay,” Aria whispered, “go.”
I left Aria to Delilah and Lucy to look after and then I dashed to him and went on my knees beside his body. He was hurt and had multiple injuries and abrasions but he was alive.
“Heal him,” Blason pleaded desperately, his sudden movement opened up the gash he had on his arm.
“I will, if you promise to stay still,” I said with concern and went to work on Chase’s wounds, hoping he would open his eyes again.