Chapter Three: My Magic

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As he ran, I could feel healing flowing from his fingertips throughout my body, my many broken bones knitting themselves back together, wounds closing. I was finally able to take in full breaths from my no longer punctured lungs. He kept murmuring; "You're safe. We've got you." Against my hair as I sobbed into his chest, I was sure that I would never again believe in safety.

At some point, I passed out from trauma, or exhaustion, or both, more likely. When I came to, I was tucked into a bedroll by a warm fire. I could feel the warmth and magic of my rescuer's hand on my shoulder as he sat quietly beside me stoking the fire with a stick. There were people dotted around the encampment in small groups talking about the battle. From what I overheard, they were there to kill the Master Vampire, only rescuing me as an aside. I couldn't even feel relief at the knowledge that my torturers were dead. All that I knew was a fear that I felt sure would be the core of my being for as long as I lived.

"You're awake little one," said the big man at my side. "How do you feel?" "I'm in no physical pain" I replied. "Well, that's not nothing given the state that we found your body in. I'm Halsin." he said. "Try to rest, and then afterward, I would love to talk with you about how you came to this power you have. It's radiating out from you in waves, and if it continues untrained and unchecked, it could cause more than just a little damage not just to you, but to the entire world around you." "Good" I spat, and shook off his hand. I rolled myself over to face away from the fire and into the night. Halsin didn't move or attempt to touch me again, but just remained seated by my side. I lay awake for hours and hours. Sometime just before dawn, I started fading in and out of a restless sleep, one that I was torn out of screaming, feeling all of my bones break and my skin melting. I felt myself pulled into Halsin's lap as he rocked me and stroked my hair, murmuring over and over; "It isn't real, you're safe, it isn't real. It's just a nightmare. It isn't real." I sobbed into his chest. How would I ever begin to find sleep again?

Breakfast arrived and folks came and went from the camp fire. A plate was handed to me that I picked at, pushing the food around more out of a sense of requirement than hunger or the ability to eat without immediately vomiting up anything I put in my stomach. After breakfast, Halsin suggested we go for a walk away from camp and stretch our legs. He told me a little bit about some of the people in their group and of the work that they have been doing taking down what sounded to me like more than a small mercenary group's share of cultist armies. He asked about my power, and I told him my whole story; the well from my childhood, the failing of the farm, getting kidnapped in the Blushing Mermaid, my torture and repeated deaths, and the power I pulled back with me when the woman, Shadowheart I learned was her name, resurrected me that final time. "I wish she had left me dead. There was a peace there, and rest." Halsin didn't reply right away, but laid his large hand lightly on my shoulder. I looked up into his bright brown eyes, swimming with emotion. "All wounds heal with time. One day you'll wake up and find joy where fear once lived." "I can't believe that," I said. "Even still, it's true. Silvanus wouldn't have allowed your return, nor given up any of his own power if you didn't belong here with purpose," he replied. "Would you like to sit with me here awhile in the quiet and work on focusing some of that magic?"

And so we spent the afternoon hours into the evening with me practicing calling and dismissing magic while Halsin sat near me whittling a tree branch. It was a companionable silence only broken when we stopped to eat some biscuits and honey that Halsin had pulled from his pack. It didn't turn my stomach, and in fact brought my hunger back full force. I was quite literally starved, but my body had long ago turned off such a sensation in favor of fight or flight. I was actually the one who suggested that we stop for the evening to go back to camp in search of supper. We were sitting around the campfire after dinner, and Shadowheart was asking questions about how my magic practice had gone today. I was going to summon a little flame into my hand to show her my progress when a log in the fire unexpectedly popped and I startled. Instead of a small flame in my hand, a fireball hurtled across camp, hitting one of the tents and began to consume it immediately. The occupants poured out, rolling on the ground to extinguish any flame and patting each other's clothes to put out the fires as quickly as they could. I ran across the camp, anxious to help fix my mistake when I made eye contact with one of the men on the ground, a white haired, porcelain skinned, beautiful beyond belief elf. "Oh shit," he whispered, as my veins turned to ice and frost crystallized at my fingertips. Ice daggers flew from me and peppered the chest of the elf, each hitting the mark with a dull thud as blood began pouring from a dozen wounds. Shadowheart appeared at my elbow readying healing and I screamed "DON'T YOU DARE HEAL HIM!!! What is he doing here!? Who are you people?! Tav, the group's leader who had also been a bit singed in the tent fire, positioned themself between me and the monster on the ground holding their hands up ready to intervene. The elf on the ground sputtered through blood, "let them explain." Nearly blind with fear and rage, I turned on my heel and fled into the night, running from these people as fast and far as I could.

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