After Empire of Storms

Chapter 17

*Disclaimer: Wrote this before Tower of Dawn*

Chaol had been kidnapped before. It was like a game of chess, to which Chaol had only been a pawn. Small, maybe insignificant, yet strong in his own right. 

But he had still been taken. Taken, knocked out, tied up, and then threatened so that Celaena Sardothien would show. And she had. Emerging from the sky like a gods-damned wraith. 

She had shown her beautiful face...and annihilated the game board. 

Now Chaol could barely track the lethal game that was being played in the city of stone, and wondered how his life had turned upside down.

Nesryn, Chaol, and Yrene had boarded a ship in Antica after months of grueling healing and recovery, but somehow still happier than they had been in a long time. Hand in hand, the couple had set sail for Terrasen, for Dorian and Aelin and their court. 

Several new friends had climbed aboard with them, each connected to Celaena or Aelin in a way that was still confusing to piece together. In several day's time, Antica's armada would follow. 

Make friends with the royal family. Aelin had said the last time he saw her. Kiss their asses, do whatever you have to do. 

At the time, he had wondered how an insignificant pawn, a cripple no less, could make a difference. But he had sworn it, for his friends...for the Queen of Terrasen. 

He had arrived at the Torre Cesme welcomed and respected. The healers had taken one look at him--and the money he brought from the royal coffers of Ardalan-- and offered to help. The damage was complex, but not irreparable. 

The most talented healers had come, led by one of the most talented  of the academy, Healer Towers. And through it all, she had stood by his side, gripping his hands as bones were broken and set. 

And during recovery, as he had taken his first steps, Nesryn had gripped one hand and Healer Towers the other. 

The young woman had an air of calm about her. And she had magic. Unlike many of the humans in the Torre Cesme, the young woman had powers. Not fire or raw magic, but healing powers. Power needed to heal the broken world they lived in. 

And, during the worst procedures, Chaol had shared his story with her, talking to keep his mind from the pain. 

But pain was better than feeling nothing.

He had left out the Aelin parts at first, only sharing his relationship with Dorian and his rise through the ranks of the castle. The woman listened, hands never faltering as she worked through the damage of his spine. She would ask him questions about his stories as she worked, a dreamer herself. 

Magic and mortal tools worked in harmony to heal. And day by day, Chaol grew stronger. 

As Chaol retrained his legs, wobbling like a newborn fawn, Healer Towers shared her own story. Orphaned when magic fell and her magic-blessed mother was executed, she had worked in a shit-hole of a town called Innish until a mysterious, deadly woman had saved her life-- twice-- and gave her a small fortune that enabled the healer to finish her voyage to Antica. 

She was forever in debt to a woman whose name she did not even know. 

After Chaol asked for a description of the woman, Healer Towers, who had asked to be called Yrene, obliged with skepticism. Golden hair, blue eyes with a core of gold, utterly lethal. 

Chaol had tripped over his feet before Nesryn caught him, the same thoughts going through her own head. 

Weeks later, they boarded a boat headed north, this time with the healer at their side.