The Serpentine's Revenge

Chapter Sixteen

The healer curtsied, and held out her hand. I shook it gently. “My name is Anya Arawyn. Millard has told me a lot about you, Alexandria.” I looked at Millard, his eyes said, ‘Just go with it.’

“Anya.” Milliard’s voice came out as a warning. “She needs to be healed.” Anya nodded, taking me from Millard’s support. A bracelet bounced up and down her wrist as she wrapped her arm around my waist.

“Millard, you can wait outside.” He bobbed his head in understanding, and left. Anya had me lie down on a simple bed. She slipped off my vest. Looking at the gash right below my collarbone, she asked, “What happened?” She placed a finger at the edge of the wound.

I scoffed. “If I told you, you’ll have a target on your chest.” She looked at me, scrutinizing my face.

“This wound is… different. It looks like a stab wound, but…” She shook her head, as if it was impossible. “And your back. Did you hit it against something?” I nodded, and told her I was thrown into a pillar. “This is really strange. That should have caused serious spinal injuries, you shouldn’t be able to walk or even breathe. Even more so, this stab wound… Looking at the size of it, you should’ve bled out hours ago.” Placing her hand at the wound on my shoulder. “There is magik that is keeping you alive. I can feel it. Any other person, you should be dead. This is impossible.”

I shrugged, wincing slightly at the motion to my wound. “I’ve learned to expect the impossible. Everything I thought was impossible, has happened.”

She laughed. “Do you have magik?” She asked. I nodded ever so slightly, afraid of what she might say. “Have you used it before?”

“Just tonight.” I replied.

“Did you have any symptoms afterwards?” I told her I did. I thought of the pain in my belly, and I rubbed the spot where the pain pierced. The same place where the Allura’s dagger was. “Magik takes a toll. There are always prices to pay for magik. Some experience different symptoms of magik than others.”

“Are you going to tell anyone? That I have magik?”

She shook her head. “I won’t tell a soul. I’ve heard many a man tell me secrets of their lives, and no matter how terrible, I keep them to myself. It’s your choice to tell someone about who you are. Besides, I’m just like you.” Placing her hand over the wound, she muttered an incantation. Out of her hand, glowed a familiar golden light. A wonderful warmth filled the wound, and when she lifted her hand, it was gone. I brushed my fingers over where the gash was, only feeling smooth skin. I felt this magik before.

“You have magik too?” She nodded and promptly told me it was a magik that is only used for healing.

“I usually knock out my patients before I use magik. Many aren’t as understanding as you.”

“What’s your symptoms?”

Her face darkened. “Every time I heal someone, it gives them life, because it takes some of my life force, and into my patients.”

“So, sooner or later, you’ll die.”

“We all have to die someday. Nothing lasts forever.” Anya reached for a bottle of clear liquid, and then handed it to me. “It’ll help with the pain. And if you have nightmares from what happened, I can give you a Dreamless Sleep Tonic. If you need something stronger, I’ll give you some Sertraline. But tonight, you will stay here, and rest before I can discharge you. I’ll finish bandaging you first. Oh, and don’t move around too much. It’ll take time to heal on the inside.” She took a piece of cloth and wrapped it around my split knuckles.

“Threw a lot of punches tonight?”

I scoffed lightly. “Actually I’ve never really treated my split knuckles, so these are from… I don’t know anymore.” Anya began rubbing a tonic over my bruises, telling me—with a wink—that it works like magik.

“What a beautiful bracelet.” I said.

“Thanks, a friend gave it to me.” The circlets around our wrists were almost matching. “What a coincidence that they almost match.” We laughed it off.

I looked around the room, trying to occupy myself while she works. Spotting a big bookshelf in one of the the rooms across of mine, I saw that books lined each and shelf.

“You like reading?”

Anya stopped rubbing my bruises and looked behind herself. She laughed. “Oh yeah. I love reading. It’s been my whole life.” I stood up, and walked into the next room.

Before me, a towering bookcase filled to the brim with old and new books. “It’s beautiful.” My finger followed the loops of letters on the spines, unaware of the fact Anya had followed me into that room.

“Take some.”

I whirled around. “What?”

“Take some.” Anya repeated. Her bright eyes suggested that I should. “I have tons. Take some.” My hands roamed around the spines of the books, relishing the unsymmetrical ridges and bumps on the books. My hand stopped at one. The spine was a beautiful mahogany, and the golden words swirled downwards. I pulled it out, and the golden swirls continued to the cover. It read: Ironheart.

“That’s one of my favourites. It’s about a girl, who has an iron heart. She loved no one, and nothing. But she eventually learned to. You should read it.”

“Thank you.” I carried the book back to my room, and Anya followed me. “How did you learn to read?” I asked. She shrugged.

“My parents never sent me to school. I have four siblings, an uncle and aunt, and my grandparents to take care of. So I helped bring money home. I started working at a very young age. But my grandfather believed that reading is how women must help society. He taught me, of course, against my father’s wishes. My grandfather made me that bookcase before he died. He told me to never stop reading. And I never did.”

What a lovely story. I wished I could’ve had such a lovely story to tell. Anya finished up. She cleaned up all of the medicines she brought out, and she finished bandaging my wounds. As she was, I said, “Thank you for everything. Please tell Millard I’ll be out soon.” She told me she would tell him so. Before she left, she turned around, her red flaming hair flying out.

“Oh, Azuria, you always have a friend with me.” I nodded. But before she left, I realized. I didn’t tell her my real name.

“Anya. How do you know my real name?”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “I didn’t. I didn’t know Azuria is your name. I called you that, because you reminded me of our country. This kingdom. Our country, Azuria, fell into despair and sadness. But soon, it became a thriving and loving country. I just had a feeling that you would follow the same path.” She smiled, and I returned it.

Soon enough, I stood in front of Millard, his eyes wandering over my face, my shoulders, and where the wound used to be. His calloused fingers brushed over my skin, inspecting every part of me. When he was satisfied with what Anya had healed, he chuckled.

“I told you she was good.” I nodded. Silence slowly found itself in between us, acting as a wall that neither of us want to break. I traced the letters of Ironheart and thought. This girl was able to bring herself from darkness. Why? Anya never said. But I knew what it was. But it’s my protection. Even though I thought against it, Millard deserved the truth.

Then I said, a little too quiet, “Millard.” He looked at me. “Arian is dead.”

“Dead? I’m so sorry.” He placed his hand over mine. His callouses tickled mine.

I chuckled, only a bit. “No, you’re not.”

“I am sorry. I know he meant a lot to you.” He pulled me into his arms. His warmth and love surrounded me. I looked away. I slowly wrapped my arms around Millard. I told him that Arian was dead. Was I lying to Millard again? Cobalt is alive, and breathing, as much as I want him dead. As much as I wanted to stop his heart from beating, like what he did to my parents, he was alive.

No. Cobalt may be alive, but Arian died along with Crimson. Both murdered by Queen Allura of Azuria. But she will never be the queen of me. Arian, Crimson, Peter and Alice Janadexiand are all dead because of her.

They are all dead.