FIONA
“Mummy?” The boy crooked, his voice searching.
The mother screamed and rushed past me to engulf her son in her arms. She turned back to me, her eyes brimming.
“Thank you.” She choked. “Thank you so much.”
I watched her sob in relief, her shoulders shaking and I didn’t notice the tears sliding down my cheeks and into the crevices of the smile that threatened to split my face apart. This was my calling. My purpose. Not the silverbitten rubbish about power and wealth that the Bishop had been spouting to get me to join him.
This, watching a mother realise that her son would be okay, was why the goddess gave me this gift and it made all the pain worth it.
Around me the crowd had started to press in, all trying to get a glimpse of the boy and the healer who had saved him.
“Bles
