My life became much lonelier. I no longer had the love of the man I loved. I was not welcome on their family farm after what was considered such an insult to Quill's honor. News spread quickly in our village of Vrysdale, and everyone knew that the heartless Lynarra had shattered the ego of the wonderful Quill, throwing away a good future in the process. Only Daeron understood my motives, and he couldn't very well be seen with me in public without raising rumors or risking his brother's feelings. My world shrank to my homestead, the forest, and occasionally the village--even then, only if I was summoned to heal someone. September was a slow time for such calls, and I was thankful for that. I couldn't stand the stares and the murmurs.
I looked forward to Tuesdays. That was when Daeron and I agreed to meet in the woods each week. Had anyone found out, they would have assumed the worst--that I'd left Quill for his brother and we were having a tryst among the trees. It was baffling to consider that their worst suspicions came nowhere close to the truth. A truth which was much worse.
I was teaching Daeron to control his magic, sharing the meager collection of incantations I knew. There had been some debate between us as to whether this was a wise plan, but in the end Daeron convinced me. He was a Praecant either way, so he might as well know how to use the power instead of it using him. Practicing healing words without someone to heal was impossible, but I taught him everything else I could.
"Incandum," Daeron tried, stumbling over the pronunciation for at least the third time. "Nothing is happening. Why is nothing happening?" he asked, turning to me with a frustrated sigh.
"Try again. In-caen-di-um," I sounded out the word slowly.
"Incaendium," he said carefully. This time a small spark ignited at his fingertips. It extinguished almost as quickly as it appeared, but was enough to boost his morale.
"Good! You'll want to use that one sparingly, or when you're well-rested. Heat seems to take more energy to conjure than some of the other incantations. Eventually you should be able to manage something like this alright," I explained excitedly.
"Incaendium."
A ball of flame roughly the size of an apple formed in my hand and I held it there, cupped in my palms. I still wasn't sure why it didn't burn me, but it never did. The trouble was, once created, the flames couldn't be called back. I released it toward a nearby boulder before it could sap me of too much energy.
"Ly--Gods, be careful! You'll set the whole forest on fire!" Daeron exclaimed, jumping back and eyeing the ground for any signs of fire.
I shrugged. We were in a drought and Daeron's concern was valid. I just couldn't make myself care, particularly. I was tired--mentally, physically, emotionally. He seemed to pick up on this.
"Let's head back. I can practice this one again next time. Mother will be looking for me soon."
I nodded and we walked to the edge of the trees at a leisurely pace, making small talk. Daeron was careful to avoid any mention of his brother, speaking instead of anything else: the upcoming harvest, the concern the drought was causing, the girl he had his eye on.
"Now that you mention it," I said, interrupting a story about a recent brawl in the village over a poor trade, "I do need to go to the market. I've collected more herbs than I need and with any luck I can earn a few coins for them."
We parted ways at the dirt path, agreeing to meet again in a week. At the time, of course, neither of us knew we would not meet the next Tuesday, or the one after that, or... Had we known, we might have taken more care to say a proper goodbye.
I continued along the path to the village, tying small bundles of various plants as I went. /This might even fetch me enough for a jug of mead,/ I thought to myself, smiling at the idea of the little luxury.
I would never get to buy that jug of mead. I would never get to sell my herbs. In fact, there were a lot of things I'd never get to do again. Because just as I entered the village square, I heard a sound. A sound that would change my life forever.
I was ripped from my peaceful thoughts by a loud crash.
"AIDAN!" an ear-splitting, gut-wrenching scream pierced the air and was immediately followed by gasps and shouts from all directions.
The woman continued screaming, sobs mixing in as she pleaded with someone. I ran toward the sound. In the center of a quicky gathering crowd I noticed three things. One, an overturned vegetable cart with goods rolling across the ground every which way. Two, a man trying to restrain a rearing horse with flaring nostrils and wild eyes. And three, a small boy of about four years old, lying bloody and unconscious on the ground as a woman knelt above him in hysterics.
Before I could stop myself, I was by the woman's side.
"Oh, Gods!" The woman shrieked, clutching to my skirt. "Save him! Save my boy, please save him!"
"Let me see him!" I freed myself from her desperate grasp and crouched next to the still form of the strawberry-blonde cherub lying in the dirt before us. He was breathing, but barely. There was a large gash across his head and it looked as if he had multiple broken bones. He'd been trampled.
"AIDAN!" His mother was still screaming next to me.
I closed my eyes, trying to drown out her sounds enough to concentrate on which words I could possibly use to save the child. He clearly only had moments of life left in him and any plant in my collection would be useless.
"Sano...sano animam..." I murmured, unsure if this roughly-incanted call for healing and life would be effective. I felt energy begin to flow freely from me, and opened my eyes to see the boy's body mending itself by the second. /It's actually working!/ "Sano, animam…"
My strength was fading as my energy transferred to the broken body. /Come on. Hold on. You have enough to give./ I pushed myself further, repeating the incantation one final time. His eyes flickered open and he was quickly scooped into his mother's arms. Her eyes now contained gratitude and relief, but still fear as well.
I sat back heavily. Breathing deeply, I attempted to hold on to consciousness. The ground stopped spinning beneath me, and I noticed something. The world around me seemed strangely quiet all of a sudden. I felt eyes on me. Lots of them. Swallowing hard, I looked up to see the population of the square converged around the scene. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. As the adrenaline faded I realized what I'd just done. In saving Aidan's life, I'd forfeited my own.