30. Alar
ALAR
"The wounds that bleed can heal.
The wounds that leave no mark are the ones to fear."
—from the healers' manual
The court physician's rooms were located in the oldest part of the palace, where the walls were thick and the air was cool, which could just as well have described the old healer.
Lemil's large belly was a testament to his love of food and his dislike of physical activity, and I found it ironic that the man who insisted that my father moderate his food and alcohol consumption and maintain a rigorous training routine didn't follow his own advice.
"Prince Alar." He rose to greet me as I entered his office. "It is so good to see you home."
"Good to see you too, Healer Lemil." I shook his offered hand, noticing that his belly had shrunk a few centimeters during my absence. I chose not to remark on it in case I didn't remember its former size correctly. "Do you have a few minutes for me?"
"Always. Please," he said, motioning at the chair in front of his desk. "Take a seat and tell me what ails you."
"I didn't come to talk about myself. I came to talk about Arlen."
The smile slid off his face. "You understand I'm forbidden to discuss the heir's condition," he said.
I arched a brow. "Even with me? My parents already filled me in on the situation, and I just spoke to Aric and Aden, who are well aware of Arlen's condition."
His round cheeks reddened. "Yes, of course. Forgive me. I didn't know where the king and queen stood regarding you. You were absent for a long time."
"I understand."
I could have been compromised, and since no one had bothered to update the healer, he had no way to know whether I could be trusted.
He let out a relieved breath. "What would you like to know?"
"Everything, but mostly I need to know how bad his soldiers' affliction is. I want to understand what's happening in his mind to make him so jumpy and terrified. Arlen is not a coward."
"It has nothing to do with bravery," Lemil said.
"It is a wound, even though it is not visible.
It happens to survivors who were nearly killed or were confronted with the deaths of people they cared for.
Most of the afflicted recover in time because the mind is built to heal, the same way the body is.
But some cases are stubborn and never recover.
Their minds are stuck, reliving those moments over and over, and the affliction affects every aspect of their lives, making normal life impossible. "
That was why my father had decided to ship Arlen to Tarina. They didn't think he would ever recover and live a normal life.
I could never accept that. I wouldn't. I would fight until my last breath to get his mind unstuck so he didn't have to live the rest of his life inside a nightmare.
His situation reminded me of Kailin after the Podana dream.
She'd been wasting away because the threads connecting her to the animals whose minds she'd occupied had been draining her energy and she hadn't known how to sever them.
Each additional prophetic dream had made it worse, and the rest and healing tonics that the healers had prescribed had only a small effect.
The real cure, the thing that had restored her health, was her bond with Morgateth.
Perhaps the solution to Arlen's affliction was a bond with a dragon?
He had the same drop of Elucian blood as I did, which didn't guarantee that he had the ability to bond with dragons, but the possibility existed, and I needed to explore it.
Would my father agree to let Arlen travel to Elucia?
Would the Elucians allow him to come?
Could he join the pilgrimage in his state?
That wasn't likely.
"His mind doesn't know how to tell his body that the danger is over," Lemil continued.
"It stays braced for it. A sudden sound, a smell, a shadow at the wrong angle, and he is back in that gymnasium with the incoming grenade as if it was happening right at that moment.
" He sighed. "Arlen has difficulty falling asleep and staying asleep because the nightmare keeps replaying in his mind.
He keeps the world at a distance because anything can set him off.
His moods run from flat to wild, and he is drowning in guilt, though he'll not speak of it. "
"Guilt?" I frowned. "He saved Father's life. He has nothing to feel guilty for."
"The afflicted mind is not reasonable, Your Highness.
He was the one who insisted on the training session.
Your father was busy and wanted to cancel it, but Arlen pressed.
" Lemil winced. "I share in the guilt because I told Arlen to make sure your father trains at least two times a week to keep up his strength.
The king can't allow himself to grow a belly like mine.
" He patted the aforementioned protrusion. "He has an image to uphold."
If the healer felt guilty for his small part in the matter, I could see how Arlen would blame himself even though it made no sense.
"Neither of you are to blame for what happened," I said. "Have you tried to explain it to Arlen?"
Lemil nodded. "He's not responding to logical arguments, and frankly, it is Prince Avren's fault that Arlen feels guilty."
"Avren? What did he do?"
"He told Arlen that instead of pushing your father out of the way he should have caught the grenade and thrown it back out the window."
There was something to that, because I remembered training to do just that, but there was a difference between training with props and training with a live grenade. I didn't think my training would have kicked in in a situation like that.
"That's also not a reason to blame himself, and I intend to have words with Avren about this. He spoke without thinking and injured our brother."
Lemil nodded. "Prince Avren needs to understand that this is not a weakness or a cowardice, nor a failure of will, nor a thing Arlen could mend by deciding to be stronger.
A man cannot will a broken leg to knit faster by sheer resolve, and he cannot will this away either.
Anyone who tells him to simply master himself is doing him harm. "
I thought of Avren, who valued nothing so much as a man's command of himself, and I had a feeling our father shared his opinion.
Arlen must feel so alone.
"There must be something that can be done," I said.
"There is, but none of it is quick or certain.
Prince Arlen must feel safe, that's why I suggested he convalesce in one of the remote provinces where nothing ever happens.
" He smiled sadly. "As well guarded as the palace is, it doesn't feel safe to him, and both of us can understand why.
He needs a routine and the presence of people he trusts and is not ashamed in front of. "
Given the healer's advice, our parents' decision to send Arlen to Tarina was making more and more sense, but that was weeks in the future, and in the meantime he was suffering. I could help him right now.
"What else?" I asked. "Beyond the change in scenery and the attention of people who care for him."
"Beyond that, he must be reintroduced to the things he now avoids.
Slowly and carefully. The fear has to be faced in small, survivable doses, until the body learns the danger truly is over.
It's also therapeutic to have him speak of what happened so his mind can process it and catalog it properly as a memory of something that happened and is over, instead of reliving it and living inside a nightmare.
" He spread his hands. "I offered to give him a draft to buy a night's sleep, but he refuses it.
Besides, it's not a cure. The cure, such as it is, is safety and time and patient company and the slow facing of fear. "
"How long?" I asked.
He spread his hands again. "I am a physician, not a magician.
I cannot promise you a timeline, and recovery is not guaranteed.
Some carry it to the end of their days. He might improve for a time and then relapse for no apparent reason, and it's important not to despair at those moments and think that nothing can be done.
With a lot of patience and perseverance, he might get better. "
Safety. Routine. Trusted company. The slow, deliberate facing of fear in survivable pieces, until the body learns the threat has passed.
I had spent five months learning precisely that.
It was what they had drilled into us for weeks until we were ready to face our fears on the Day of Volition.
We had to be able to master terror, to breathe it down, to anchor ourselves in the present moment when every instinct screamed to get away as far as possible from the magnificent beasts who could incinerate us before we had a chance to blink.
They taught us how to walk toward the dragons one controlled step at a time until our bodies stopped believing they would kill us.
I thought of Kailin, who had to master her fear of heights to even sit behind a rider on the back of a dragon.
"Thank you," I said. "That was a lot of helpful advice. I'm ready to see my brother now." I stood.
Healer Lemil looked up at me with hope in his kind eyes. "I wish you luck, Prince Alar. You will need it. On top of everything else, Prince Arlen is stubborn and does not accept help easily."
"I know my brother. He will accept help from me."