CHAPTER 65 Torj
CHAPTER 65
Torj
‘Magical debris can be left inside a wound, causing it to fester’
– Arcane Ailments: Understanding Magical Maladies
L EAVING W REN FELT like leaving a piece of himself behind. The warmth of her touch still lingered on his skin, the taste of her still coated his lips...Torj tried to focus on the road ahead as he travelled to a cottage on the outskirts of the Broken Isles. Audra was right: he needed to do this, needed answers. But his mind kept drifting to the poisoner – his poisoner. Duty might be pulling him forwards, but his heart strained to turn back.
He had crossed that threshold now, stepping into uncharted territory. Whatever the cost, he would make Wren his. This promise to himself, this vision of a future with her, became the bedrock of his resolve. He’d complete his task, each step bringing him closer not just to his mission’s end, but to Wren.
Soon he sat in a tattered armchair before a small, crackling fire, a mug of fire extract cupped between his palms.
‘I’ve never met a Warsword before,’ the middle-aged woman sitting beside him said.
‘We’re not that special,’ he muttered, taking a sip of his drink.
‘The world begs to differ, Bear Slayer. Even I have heard tales of your glory in these isolated parts.’
‘Perhaps they’ve been exaggerated.’
‘Perhaps. Though from the look of you, I doubt it,’ she replied. ‘Are you going to tell me why you’re here?’
‘Ma’am, I—’
‘Call me Lillian.’
‘Lillian,’ Torj echoed back. ‘Master Hardim Norlander gave me your details in regard to some research I’m doing.’
‘Research? I thought Warswords of Thezmarr were all about slaying monsters and hunting down villains.’
‘I can multitask.’
‘I’m yet to meet a man who can, but go on. What is this research you speak of?’
Torj took another sip of fire extract, relishing the burn of the liquor down his throat as he mulled over his next words. ‘Magical injuries. Wounds inflicted by a magic wielder.’
‘I have suffered no such injury, Bear Slayer.’
Torj blinked. ‘But Hardim—’
‘Hardim has a big mouth.’ Lillian sighed heavily. ‘It was not I who was injured. It was me who did the injuring.’
Torj stared at her. ‘Only royals wield magic.’
‘I am second cousin to the late King Artos. A fraction of the Harenth royal empath magic flows in my veins,’ she explained grimly. ‘Naturally, after everything came to light about his role in the war, I had to go into hiding.’
‘And you...’ Torj still couldn’t quite believe it. ‘You hurt someone with magic? How? What happened?’
‘I didn’t mean to,’ Lillian said. ‘I want you to know that.’
‘I understand. Tell me.’
‘It was a long time ago now,’ she began, her voice laced with regret. ‘My childhood friend, Maxus, had been injured in the first shadow assault on Naarva. The royal family had fled, and its kingdom was in ruins, trying to rally a force together to fight off the wraiths. They had no chance, of course – we know that now – but Maxus...’ Lillian topped up both their mugs with more fire extract and took a long draught. ‘He was hurt in the fighting. And he was in so much pain. I couldn’t bear to see him in such agony, so...I tried to take it away.’
‘With your empath magic?’
‘With what little power I had, yes. But you see...I don’t think I’ve ever fully understood how it worked. Still don’t. It’s not a simple matter of giving or taking from someone with magic. There is a cost.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘By trying to take Maxus’ pain, I had to take it on myself, and give him something of me. It was as though we somehow swapped pieces of ourselves in that moment.’
As if in answer, Torj’s web of scars prickled. ‘It was painful?’
‘For me, yes. But we both healed. It wasn’t until later that I realized something wasn’t right.’ Lillian swallowed down more drink. ‘The original wound in Maxus changed over time...It changed him, changed us. I had always cared deeply for him. We had grown up together, but...’
‘What?’
‘We grew close. Very close, in the year or so after the incident. We had a connection like nothing else I’ve ever known, but he became obsessed with the scar the wound had left. He said he could feel it all the time. For months and months, all he could talk about was feeling a vibration there. Most people thought he was mad.’
‘Was he?’ Torj asked.
‘I honestly don’t know.’
Torj suppressed the urge to rub at his own scar. ‘And where is he now?’
Lillian closed her eyes, as though bracing herself for what came next. ‘I’ll show you.’
‘Show me?’
But the woman was already moving through the cottage, motioning for him to follow her down a dimly lit corridor.
He did as she bid, subtly wiping the sweat from his palms on his thighs as he walked.
Lillian put a finger to her lips as she gently pushed open a door.
A small room was illuminated by a handful of candles, revealing a man lying on a bed. His arms were strapped to his sides, and he writhed among the blankets, his eyes wide and panicked.
Lillian’s expression was sombre as she turned back to Torj. ‘He tried to carve out his own heart.’