Healer

Chapter 1

Hybern - Present Day

TW: SA

     They had been camped on this muddy hill for four days. Behind them loomed the ruins of some rake's castle, jagged and empty like a poor gutted beast. The men had used some of the rooms that still had ceilings to store supplies and weapons, but they had all taken up residence in their grey canvas tents outside it's courtyard walls. The unit of Hybern foot soldiers were on the move to their eastern border to set up blockades and gather intel for their king, for he had been preparing an attack on Prythian's western shore for some time and had grown paranoid that they might learn of his plan. They had, and he was too late to stop them, but he didn't know that. None of them did. 

     Talia sat just behind the entrance of her tent, the closest she could get to the warmth of the fire without having to face the males outside. She had been sent on many "missions" with Hybern's soldiers, in case they should face some danger or mysterious illness that required a healer's intervention, though most "illness" faced by the males of Hybern involved the need of a young female's ...attention. Especially if said young female knew it might cost her her life if she refused. She shuddered, hoping to shake off the scent of those that entered her tent today, but she was unsuccessful. It wasn't just on her body, it crawled beneath her skin, touching her chilled bones.
The males outside were drinking and listening to their leaders ramble about how Prythian soldiers had been seen at the border, those speaking were feeding off of the anxiety in their subordinates, brought on by the legend of the shadowsinger, a great soldier of the night court, the High Lord's spymaster. And torturer. According to the male speaking, he had been seen in the sky over camps closer to the border, and some even said males had disappeared while leaving the camp for water or to relieve themselves. He stopped and took a deep drink from his stein before continuing. "That camp in south bend? It wasn't a fire that took them out. No, it might have been a fire that cleaned them up, but it didn't take them out. I heard it was him. Glowing blue, and destroying everything in his path." Mumbles and grunts rose from the circle as Talia shook her head and turned away from the entrance of her tent to prepare for bed. She knew of the one they called shadowsinger. During her time with the priestesses, they spoke of his powers with reverence. They called his powers ancient. They said that him and his brothers were the strongest Illyrians to have ever existed, wearing siphons for their powers in order to even control them. They spoke of his ability to track down and capture information better than any hunter with their prey. They spoke of him in a way that made him seem untouchable, larger than life. And they knew, Talia included, that he was the king's greatest prize. That the king's extreme paranoia was furthered by the idea of the Illyrian, the only one who could find him out. If the shadowsinger were really out there, out here, then he carried a great price on his head. Talia began to turn down her bedroll when she heard rustling at the flap of her tent. She straightened without turning around. "Healer." slurred a deep voice. Talia continued folding her cloak and didn't turn around. "I said I need a healer." the voice clanged again. 

"Oh really." she answered uninterestedly. Again? The third today. She shifted on her feet.

"Humor me." he said, moving to stand behind her and placing a dirty hand on her shoulder. She stilled. She knew the routine, and the risk of breaking it. The king and his court would never kill her, they needed her too much, but their torture was slow and effective. It didn't matter though, because these males were drunk and bored. They might kill her for sending them off unfinished and never even stop to think about the consequences they might face. So she turned to him.

"What can I do for you tonight, Braxton?" Talia asked, masking the tiredness in her voice, and addressing one of her most common visitors by name.

"I think you know." he said gruffly, already fumbling with his belt. She didn't have the will to argue, to try and talk him out of it. She wondered if it bothered his comrades that they shared a female with him. With each other. She slipped off her shoes and sat on the edge of her bed roll, waiting for him to get on with it. As he sidled toward her, too drunk to even feign seduction, Talia picked up on a sound. Scuffling of feet, boots squelching in the mud, too fast to be stumbling back to their own beds for the night. Before she could make out anything definitive, Braxton was upon her, pressing one knee between her legs as he pushed her down onto her bedroll by her shoulders.