CHAPTER 30
My mind was swirling with questions. They caught one? How? The Soulless can drain the living without even touching us. How the hell did they catch one!
“Ulric, take Avyn to the healer; she burned her hands pretty bad,” Zendryk ordered him, and he started walking towards me, but I had other plans.
“No. I want to see the Soulless, I want to know what we’re facing. Don’t shut me out from this, too.” My words cut him deeper; the unspoken meaning and understanding flashed across his face, as the hurt flickered in his eyes.
He had kept me in the dark about his betrothal; I wasn’t going to let him keep me in the dark about this.
“Let’s go to the healer first, and then we’ll all go together to see the Soulless.” He said.
We made our way to the ballroom, which had been turned into a makeshift infirmary for the evening.
There were not many wounded in this room, and my heart dropped, knowing the others lay lifeless where they had fallen.
I sat in a chair, and the healer came over to me.
He was dressed in white dress clothes stained with red and black blood.
His hair was blonde and flowed past his shoulders; we had shared a dance before the chaos ensued.
He was gentle and considerate while we danced, guiding us across the dancefloor with a seamless grace, as though we were a cloud drifting on a breeze.
“Well, hello again, Ms. Ashwood.” A smile grew on his face, which made Zendryk tense up beside me. “What brings you back to me?”
I lifted my hands to him, showing him the makeshift wraps that Zendryk had made with his torn shirt.
“Ah, so it wasn’t for another dance.” He winked at me. Apparently, he was smooth with his words as well.
I chuckled and blushed a little.
“Just do your job, Sorren.” Zendryk shifted closer to me, and I nudged him with my elbow.
“You’ll have to save me a dance at the next ball,” I said, and received a nudge back from Zendryk. It wasn’t the right time to push him, yet I couldn’t stop myself from coaxing his jealous side out.
“Deal.” Sorren quickly replied, and Zendryk rustled beside me, crossing his arms, I assume to keep him from doing something he would regret, as a shadowy mist danced at his feet.
The healer gently and delicately unwrapped the torn shirt from my hands.
I sucked in a breath through gritted teeth as the last layer that had contact with my palms was removed.
Nausea roiled in my stomach as some of my skin peeled away with the bandage.
My palms glistened with a clear liquid, and blisters littered already red skin.
“Fuck Avyn, I didn’t know it was this bad,” Zendryk murmured from beside me and brought his hand up to cover his mouth as Ulric gagged from behind him.
I looked at Ulric, “Really? You rip Soulless apart with your mouth, and this is what grosses you out?”
His only response was another gag, and he turned away from me.
“Hold still,” Sorren grabbed my hands and placed my palms together; the burns were touching each other, and pain shot through my body as they shared the excruciating heat between them.
I began to shake, and stars started to blur my vision. Zendryk put his hands on my shoulders, steadying me while I tried to stay conscious.
“Don’t pass out on me now,” Sorren placed one of his hands on top and the other underneath, steadying my hands, not allowing them to move.
The additional pressure from his hands on mine was going to make me pass out; I was barely holding on to consciousness.
Darkness emerged from the corners of my eyes, and I wasn’t sure if I was about to fall or if the shadows dancing at Zendryk's feet were rising.
Before it completely took over, our hands began to glow, a bright light emanating from them, and it took everything in my power to resist the urge to pull away.
After a moment, a cooling sensation spread between my hands; memories of jumping into a lake on a hot summer day calmed my mind.
I closed my eyes, relief washing over me, as the pain slowly subsided, and a tingling sensation replaced it.
“There, all better, the tingling sensation should go away in a couple of hours.” He released my hands, and I turned them over, about to pass out for a completely different reason now.
The burns were gone. All that was left were some small scars, but I could live with that. They tingled, but there was no pain or burning anymore.
“I’m still working on the scars; I haven’t quite figured out how to make them disappear yet.”
“Thank you,” I whispered while still looking at my hands, in complete awe of what this man was capable of.
But then, a thought struck me, “Not to be ungrateful or rude, but I thought only the House of light had healing powers?” Thinking back to one of the Professor's lessons about the powers each house held.
Sorren laughed before answering, “Ah, yes. You catch on quick; I was wondering when this would come up.” He shifted in his seat, “At the House of Light, there are strict rules and achievements we need to hit during our training. They only allow the best of the best to move forward and become true healers. As you can see,” he motioned to my hands, “I could not master the removal of scars, so they denied me from being a healer.”
“But you healed my hands just fine? I would trade scars any day instead of feeling that horrid pain.” I was in shock. He could help so many people, but because of a blemish left behind from his healing, they didn’t allow him to. This new world was so fucked up.
“Thank you, Ms. Ashwood, but according to them, I was not up to par. So, I had a choice to make: stay at the House of Light, knowing I would never amount to anything in their eyes, or explore the world and heal those along the way. Once I made it here to the House of Darkness, I made myself a permanent guest in trade for use of my healing powers.”
“It worked out well for us, and he had a place to live,” Zendryk said, nodding once to Sorren in gratitude. “But we should get moving.”
“Ah, yes. Don’t hesitate to call on me again.” Sorren stood, and his long hair floated with the movement as he made his way to the next injured person.
Zendryk led us down a winding stone staircase that had no windows or doors, and the only light came from the tiny fairy lanterns that lined the walls.
I glanced inside one as we descended, and the house was made of stone, like the walls around us.
I wonder if they get to choose where they live, or if they are assigned to one?
If it were me, I would not want this to be where my home was.
Curiosity got the better of me, “Do the fairies get to choose what lantern they live in?”
Ulric let out a snort, “We are about to confront a Soulless, and you are worried about fairies and their homes?”
“Shut it, Ulric, before I push you down the stairs.” I gave him a gentle, playful push on his shoulder.
“Oh, cut it out, you two. I swear, I must deal with Ulric already; I'd better not have to deal with the two of you together.” Zendryk chided us, a playful edge to his voice, “We just provide the lanterns and homes; they get to decide where they live, and if they are not happy in one, they can move on to another one. We have an entire storage room full of options for them to choose from. If the servants or guards notice one is not being used, we change it out for another style.”
I let out a considering hum, “Interesting.” I might have just found myself a new hobby: the idea of designing and creating unique homes for them excited me.
When I was younger, I did not have many toys and had to make do with items from the forest. My dolls lived in log cabins I created from sticks, trees, and dried mud.
We made it to the bottom of the staircase, where we were surrounded by circular stone walls that led to a single door, guarded by a soldier.
The guard had a wooden chair to sit in, but nothing else was in the hallway.
Without anyone speaking, he reached down underneath his leather armor and pulled out a key on a chain wrapped around his neck.
He removed it from around his neck and used it to unlock the solid metal door.
After we had entered the room, the guard shut the door behind us, locking it in place with an audible click.
“Just knock when you are ready to exit.” He yelled from the other side, but none of us replied.
I took a moment to take the room in; there were metal bars lined up like cages in front of us, and besides the door behind us, there was no way to escape.
All the cells were unoccupied except for the last one, where a pale grey figure stood, no longer cloaked but wearing a pair of dirty, torn pants, adorned with black blood.
He stood, unmoving, his hands bound by his sides by a metal chain wrapped around him.
“Can he use his powers on us?” I asked, staring at the creature chained before us.
“No. The Draevonyx blocks his powers,” Zendryk said and pointed to the chain around his waist and arms. “We weren’t sure if it would work, but it seems to be holding.
I want you to stay back, in case it falters.
We have never tried this before, and it could get messy.
If anything goes slightly wrong, I want you to run to that door and knock loudly. ”
I nodded, unsure of what to say as fear gripped my throat. Drae what? Now was not the time for a lesson, so I moved out of the way and stood with my back against the wall as Zendryk approached the creature.
“It seems we have figured out your weakness.” He said to the creature. “Are you ready to talk?”
The Soulless tilted its head - no emotion showing on its sickly-pale-skinned face, and its solid-black eyes bored into Zendryk, as if he could kill him right then and there.
Zendryk looked unbothered by the creature standing in front of him, as if it were a pest that had made its way into the castle.