The Cursed Gift | B1 [EDITING]

15 | A Healer By Birthright

Five years ago...

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"Cold cloth, please."

The thirteen year old girl grabbed the brown bowl made of twisted bark and filled it with water, dabbing the cloth before handing it over to her mother.

The woman was a miracle worker when it came to all things healing.

She had been a Witch Healer by birthright, given to her by her ancestors. Blessed with her hands to fix problems all else deemed lost causes.

When she had given birth to her daughter, she swore to pass on the same kind of gifts. To ensure their tribe always had a remarkable healer among them.

The Coven of the Hallowed had many generations of witches born of all kinds of gifts, that they celebrated within the walls of their home alone.

A secret gift they shared and relished in.

A power unlike that of any other, at least that was the lie they were fed. Believing they were the only ones left of their kind for miles, but the Elders knew better, especially Lakshita.

The Seer had foreseen such things before she had even comprehended them. When it came time to understand, she had only shared such secrets with the healer and the Clan Leader.

Both for very different reasons.

The Clan Leader; for their master needed to know if the other witches would be such threats to them whereas the Bhisaj might be needed in times of such things.

To properly cure an illness, they needed to first have all the knowledge involved.

Asha hoped to pass that down to her child, and now was one of the times she saw fit for her infamous teaching moments.

"If you lightly dab on their foreheads, it wipes away the sweat and keeps them cooler," she instructed as she did so on the patient.

Alisa, wide-eyed and curious, absorbing all of the information she could get at the time. She loved learning everything she could from her mother.

It didn't matter what it was, she just knew her mother had this way with people that she hoped to one day have as well.

"What happened to them?" She pondered aloud, as she stared intently over at the wounds on their arms and legs.

They resembled claws and teeth marks. Nasty gashes scattered along their skin in barbaric patterns.

Disgust and bile raised up inside of Alisa's mouth but she swallowed it back, attempting to pluck up any courage she possibly had left inside.

There would be plenty more unpleasant things for them to fix in time and Alisa had to be prepared for it - stomach wise too.

"It must've been bad, right?" She probed again, pointing at the various injuries.

Again, her mother dismissed her questions.

This only made her wonder further about it.

"The beast took a chunk out of my leg!"

The witch mumbled out suddenly, delirious from the herbs Asha had previously given her.

The woman in question didn't deem any of it with a response, slightly afraid to scare her daughter in any way.

There were always some not so easy parts about the job.

With a frown, the youngest girl simply kept watching, afraid she would miss even the slightest of things.

Everything was important somehow.

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"I just don't know why she won't tell me what happened to those people," the brunette girl said with a frown, almost as if she too felt the patients' pain and losses.

"Maybe she doesn't think you're ready to hear it," Ace stated, ever the voice of reason.

"You are only thirteen, Alisa."

"Yes but healers are supposed to be kept in the loop about things."

"While that might be true, we are still too young to fight or be in the crossfires," Hestia added, agreeing with the young Aryan.

Ever the good witch, Hestia always followed the rules in fear she would accidentally offend the wrong people.

Offensive and disrespectful behaviour always warranted bad consequences, sometimes even exile.

The latter was more unheard of but it still could happen.

"How can I help if I don't know what's going on, though?" Alisa asked with slight desperation.

She had studied almost every parchment in their tent in order to take in all of the information needed to be a great healer.

Alisa aspired to make her mother proud.

"You can help in lots of ways," Hestia suggested, pointing at one of the parchments that lay in front of them.

"By learning every herbal healing recipe that you can," the older boy added in, trying to help Alisa feel some kind of peace about being left out of the loop.

"I can almost do that in my sleep," retorted Alisa, sarcastically.

"Well until you can, maybe you should wait to ask those difficult kind of questions."

"I'm ready now, though."

There were several moments of silence before it became clear that she wasn't dropping the subject any time soon.

It could be a problem if not handled delicately and correctly.

Ace sighed before giving in, as he often did when this particular girl was concerned. He always felt like he had to give her whatever she wanted in order to keep her quiet.

Alisa had a bad case of always going against the status quo.

She hated following orders and being told where her place in society was and yet, Ace often brought her back down to reality by reminding her constantly.

With reluctance, Ace murmured the answer she'd been looking for all along.

"The shape-shifters attacked again just outside of our boarders. Your mother was healing fallen warriors of a neighbouring witch clan; Sisters of Midnight."

A clan name Alisa had never heard of, let alone a neighbouring witch clan.

Blinking several times before she finally asked another question.

"Who are they?"

Hestia frowned, looking down at her notepad not sure if she should interject with the sensitive information Ace and herself both held.

Ace's response came swift, however, leaving no room for any more questions.

"The unlucky ones."