Once back at their camp, Ewan set about crushing the collected herbs and making a paste that he would use as a poultice, spreading it on Wynblow's wounds, and on his own shoulder.
It wasn't very pleasant to see or smell, but the mixture was effective enough to disinfect the wounds.
He used one of his shirts to compress the paste obtained, under the eyes of the little girl.
She had moved a little closer, sitting against Fusain; but still seemed as frightened by the dragon.
On that point, Ewan couldn't blame her. He himself was still wondering if this was all a wild dream.
Just to be sure, he quickly looked behind him.
Yep.
The dragoness was still there, sleeping; her heavy breath occasionally flickering the flames of the small wood fire.
And apparently she must have sensed someone was watching her, because she opened her eye lids briefly, revealing her green eyes.
"What?" She asked with a grumpy look.
"Nothing. I was just making sure of something," he said.
"About what?" She asked again, baring her teeth. "That I hadn't run off without making a sound?"
He shrugged, and went back to working on the herb mixture.
Obviously, the habit she had of showing her teeth was a way of mocking him. He made a mental note of this information for later. Just in case.
But since she was awake, he felt the need to ask her some questions.
"Say, last time, you mentioned the 'root world', didn't you?" He began to say. "And that a wizard was involved, right?"
Wynblow had her eyes closed again, but was indeed still awake, and said:
"If there's one thing I know, and surely you must know, it's that there are four types of magic in the world."
"Four?" Ewan repeated, "I only know three, though..."
"Which three?" she asked.
He stopped kneading the mixture trapped in the cloth for a moment, thinking while looking up as if searching the depths of his memory, then stated:
"The first magic, we saw and used it earlier," he said. "The incantations. They are accessible to everyone and can be used in everyday life without any special knowledge of magic. Knowing them and saying them is enough to use them."
"Yes. I must have learned that a long time ago, but I had forgotten about it until you mentioned it," she said. "Then?"
"Then we have enchantments," he added. "Enchantments only affect inanimate objects, and allow you to give them certain properties. Like when you enchant a sword to make it able to cut through steel. But you need to have some knowledge of alchemy to be able to create one. And the more powerful the enchantment, the harder it is to create."
Wynbow didn't say anything, which prompted him to keep talking.
"Finally, we have the spell. The spell allows you to touch living things, and its most common application is healing. But there are also harmful spells that can hurt the target. They can only be used by magicians, and are more difficult to master than enchantments."
Wynblow yawned slightly, before lifting her head from the ground.
"But I don't see what the fourth type of magic is," Ewan said. "If it really exists, I don't know it..."
Wynblow then clicked her tongue, as if to show her disapproval.
"What do enchantments and spells have in common?" She asked, knowing full well the answer to her question.
"The common factor? That's a bit of a dirty question," Ewan complained, "That's like me asking you what water tastes like..."
"I'll rephrase, in that case: what is the absolute limit of enchantments and spells?" Wynblow asked, "And besides, the taste of water changes depending on its composition and temperature."
Ewan sniffed loudly. She had answered his question about water so seriously that he didn't dare tell her it was just a quip.
Instead, he focused on the new question that was being asked of him.
"The absolute limit, huh...?" He said thoughtfully. "If that's what I'm thinking... Enchantments like spells, no matter how powerful they are, end when the caster dies... Am I right?"
Wynblow then emitted what sounded like a laugh.
"That's right. A spell or enchantment, even one that is intended to last for years, necessarily ends when the caster dies. Which brings us to the fourth type of magic."
"You mean the fourth type of magic has a direct bearing on this rule?" Ewan asked, with renewed interest.
"My word, but he's smart!" Wynblow exclaimed.
Ewan winced. Hearing that from someone he considered an idiot hurt. But what hurt even more, was that said idiot did indeed seem to know more than he did, when it came to magic.
"Enlighten me, O eminent creature who would rather pilfer cattle than hunt for her meal like everyone else!" he exclaimed.
"That's really petty," she complained.
"I haven't started it," he replied.
"Started what?" She pomptly asked.
Ewan sighed. Ah yes, he had almost forgotten for a moment that she was an idiot. Almost.
"And so," he resumed, growing impatient. "What is this fourth type of magic?"
"I'm getting to that," she said. "If spells and enchantments end when the caster dies, do you know what would happen if they didn't end then?"
"Excuse me?" He asked as he turned back to her, completely lost. "I don't understand what you're getting at here."
"Oh, you'll figure it out soon enough. Remember: a spell or enchantment cannot last forever, because of the limitation of the caster's own life. "Wynblow said with a smile. "But here's the thing, imagine if we wanted to get rid of this limitation..."
Ewan huffed, exasperated.
"No, it's not possible to get around that limitation, otherwise people would know about it, and everyone would be using that technique; if it really existed."
"And yet..." Wynblow continued.
She was aware that Ewan was hanging on her every word, waiting for her next words.
"The curses." She said slowly. "That is the fourth magic, which by its nature is forbidden."
"That doesn't ring a bell," Ewan admitted, "But if it's a forbidden magic, then it's only natural that no one has ever heard of it. Why is it forbidden?"
"Because its use relies on human sacrifice." Wynblow said.
These words made Ewan jump, who momentarily forgot both his aching shoulder and the medicine he was making.
"Are you kidding me right now?!" he exclaimed.
"Do I look like I'm fooling around? " She asked with a straight face.
Ewan looked quickly at Wynblow's 'face'. Her eyes were fixed, her mouth closed, and the two bony bumps serving as her eyebrows, frowned. She was definitely not saying this to make fun of him and play a bad joke.
And a ball of nervousness formed in his stomach. He was afraid to understand what brought these forms of magic together, and the creature that had nearly killed him a few days earlier.
"A curse can affect absolutely anything, and begins with the death of an individual. It can be the caster himself, or a creature gifted with superior intelligence, for that matter. "And the more important the curse is, the more sacrifices are required. Now you understand why this magic is forbidden, right?"
Ewan clenched his fists. Sacrifices of beings gifted with higher intelligence. That included all humanoid species. And therefore human beings.
But something dawned on him.
"You said this magic begins with the death of an individual. But when does it stop?"
Wynblow finally showed her teeth, but Ewan didn't know if it was because she was laughing at the situation or finding it distasteful.
"That's the problem. It has a beginning, but no end." Said the dragoness. "That is the fundamental characteristic of a curse."
Magic... with no end?
Ewan couldn't believe his ears. Was this kind of thing possible?
"I... I see..." He finally said. "But... what does this creature have to do with it?"
"I'm getting to that, and you're not going to like it..." She said cautiously. "You're probably not going to like what I'm going to say next, but I think it's best that you know. So sit back down."
He wasn't going to like what she was going to say?
As if to taunt him, the ball of anxiety in his stomach continued to grow. Was the discussion headed where he thought it was?
Listening to Wynblow's advice, he sat back down on the floor, waiting apprehensively for her to finally speak.
"A curse can affect anything, including things that don't belong to this world," Wynblow explained, "The creature came from the root world to our world via a curse. And I'm willing to bet that the villagers served as a sacrifice."
Ewan was dumbfounded. He didn't want to believe it.
Nervously, he glanced at the little girl, and saw that she seemed to be asleep, snuggled up against Fusain.
He really hoped she hadn't heard that.
That she hadn't heard what was most likely the awful reality.
Because as the young adult that he was, he couldn't get past the shock he had just experienced. To the implication that Wynblow's words carried.
For if it was true - it most likely was, but he refused to believe it - then it meant that...
It meant that his friend and his friend's wife, and that little girl's parents…