Chapter 10 Araphi #2
Araphi pulls her waterskin from her bags and takes a long pull. She tears her eyes away from Sage. Gods, what is Araphi doing? She’s an engaged woman, and getting involved with Sage while they are traveling would be a terrible mistake.
Before she can berate herself any further, Bramble strides up beside Araphi.
“Hello to you, Phi Runesong!” they say cheerfully. Their golden curls flop around with every step and a wide smile covers their face.
“Hello to you, Bramble!” she says back, smiling. She’s already fond of the healer’s easy cheer and grateful for their skills. “Do you know what’s happening there?” She nods toward Sage and Remy.
Bramble shrugs and shoves their hair out of their eyes. “Not sure. He had a map in hand and was muttering about a welcome party.”
“I hope we get there soon. And that there’s an actual bed waiting. I’ve not had many outdoorsy experiences.” Araphi stretches as she says it, but then immediately wishes she could take the words back. “What about you? Is this normal for you?”
“I don’t live outside, if that’s what you mean.” Bramble’s smile is thin. “Though I’ve slept beneath the stars before. I’m from a village near the sea, and our temple to my patron god is offshore—half a day’s sailing to get to the island. It’s rough enough, if not wild.”
“Oh! Living by the sea sounds lovely.”
A rare shadow crosses Bramble’s face, there for a moment and then gone so quickly Araphi almost misses it.
“It was lovely—the most beautiful place in the world once upon a time. But everything changed after a flood last spring. Many of the houses in our village were destroyed, as well as the temple, nearly taken down to the foundation.” Pain laces their voice, and they run a hand through their curls.
“We’re working to rebuild, but it’s slow going. ”
“That’s awful. Surely the crown can assist?”
Bramble shakes their head. “They’ve little use for us.
We’re not a port city of industry and trade like Kingfisher, just a small community trying to care for itself and survive the storms that wash ashore.
The crown can pour money into an endless skirmish with pirates from the Upper Islands, but can’t spare a coin to help us rebuild. ”
“I’m so sorry,” Araphi breathes. She means the words, but she also struggles to understand how the crown, with its vast holdings, doesn’t have enough to help a fishing village.
Bramble shrugs. “It’s life. We’ll figure it out. We always do.” They nod toward the bandage on her arm. “How’d you sleep? I imagine it was a rough night even with the healing I did. How’s it feeling today? I saw you wielding a dagger like a real brawler this morning.”
A snort escapes Araphi’s lips. “Hardly a brawler, but I’m decent enough to—how did Nura and Sage put it?—not die before they can get there and actually fight.”
“Ouch,” Bramble says with a wince. “Tough party.”
Araphi shrugs. “Fighting isn’t my skill set, but I’m glad to know a few moves.”
As she says it, she realizes how starved she is for knowledge—the kind that Araphi Clauneck might never use, but that might help Phi Runesong stay alive.
“Do you think you can teach me how to heal?” she asks Bramble.
Their eyebrows shoot up and she rushes on.
“Nothing too complicated, of course. I don’t have a salmon god to appeal to.
But enough that I could recognize the right herbs, maybe set a bone or mend a cut if needed?
I know bardic magic isn’t really suited for much—”
“Don’t say that,” Bramble admonishes gently. “There are many bardic spells that can be used for healing. I don’t know any of them—not a player myself—but if you could find the right spells or songs, I’m certain you could do healing magic.”
Not for the first time, Araphi wishes her mother had taught her more than the little bits of bardic magic she’d imparted and the other spells Araphi had cobbled together in the last few years. “I’d love to learn them,” she admits. “Along with the basics of non-magical healing too.”
Bramble seems genuinely delighted at the idea.
“That I can help with!” As they walk on, they promptly launch into a lecture about non-magical healing methods using common herbs and roots, how to set a broken bone, and how to sew a wound.
They even pull out a needle and thread, offering them to her.
Instantly, she’s reminded of the many years she spent taking embroidery lessons alongside her siblings, and she shudders.
Likely misinterpreting her look, Bramble says, “I don’t mean you’ll have to sew up anything now, but it’s good to have these in your healer’s kit.
Along with some bandages, simple ingredients for pain relief like willow bark, and a few other supplies.
Those are extra, which you can take as a start to your own healer’s kit.
Here, take these too.” They dig into their pack, pull out a swath of linen for bandages, and hand it over to her.
It’s such a simple gesture, but it’s full of acceptance and camaraderie. It tells Araphi that Bramble sees her as a companion and fellow adventurer. Someone they trust. Someone who is worthy of her place in the party.
“Thank you,” she says, swallowing past the lump in her throat as she takes the supplies. “Perhaps in Hexham we can find a shop, and I can build out my healer’s kit further.”
“I’d be happy to take you shopping for supplies!” Bramble says with enthusiasm. Then they pull up short as Sage gives a shout.
“We’ll stop here for a bit,” Sage says, nodding toward the path ahead, where a break in the trees opens into a grassy meadow and a small stream gleams in the near distance, shaded by willows and oaks. It looks like paradise.
“Thank the gods,” Araphi murmurs. Her legs are stiff and her back feels like it’s been pummeled by boulders.
“Especially my god,” Bramble adds cheerfully. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go make an offering to them.”
With a wave, they stride into the stream with their boots still on.
Araphi laughs to see the surprised look on Sage’s face, then she slips her boots off and wades in as well.
The water is freezing, and despite Bramble’s urging—“Cold water is good for you!”—Araphi flees the icy stream a few moments later.
The water has eased her aching feet a bit, though, which is something.
Pulling on her stockings and boots, she wanders toward a clump of trees.
She’s thinking about what she might add to her healing kit when she stumbles—quite literally—across Sage.
She’s leaning against an oak tree, her shirt unlaced and pulled down below one arm as she tries to examine her bared shoulder, where Araphi can see a map of bruises blooming from here.
At Araphi’s approach, which she could have sworn was near silent, Sage straightens and barks, “What are you doing, Bard?”
“Trying to get some feeling into my toes after standing in that stream. Why are you half naked in the middle of the woods?”
Sage snorts. “Hardly half naked.”
“Okay, a quarter naked,” Araphi amends.
“Barely naked at all.” Sage quirks one eyebrow at her.
“Could we please stop saying ‘naked’?” Araphi asks with more of a whimper in her voice than intended.
Sage starts to say something, but ends up just biting her bottom lip instead.
Desire pools low in Araphi’s belly, but she turns away before the ranger can see the blush rise on her cheeks. As casually as she can manage, she studies the clusters of orange oak leaves above Sage’s head. “Well, I’ll be going. Need to check on my bags and—”
“I was looking for swelling,” Sage says in an awkward rush, her words tumbling out like the water in the stream. “Bramble hassled me into it last night. I need to put more salve on, but I can’t reach it myself. Could you…er…” Her words trail off, as if it physically hurts her to ask for help.
“Could I help you?” Araphi prompts.
“Yes.” Sage crosses her arms. “Please?”
Araphi bites back a grin. “Turn around, Ranger.”
Sage obliges, handing Araphi a pot of spicy-smelling green salve, and then turning so she’s facing the tree trunk.
Carefully, Araphi rubs the paste between her hands, but hesitates. “I don’t think I can…I’m afraid I’ll get it all over your shirt like this. Could you, um…”
Understanding, Sage tenses for a moment. Then with a resigned sigh, she grabs a fistful of the back of her shirt, and tugs it up and over her head. Now the ranger really is half naked, and there’s only her chestwrap to contend with, but Araphi certainly won’t be requesting its removal.