her eyes and was startled when the warm
tingling entered her. It seemed to seep into her skin and then fill her throughout.
As it worked its way into her chest, she felt an answering tingle from within.
Her inner tingle started to squirm like a restless child trying to escape its
mother.
“Let it go,” Wesson whispered.
Reaylin did not want to let it go. It was frightening, and
somehow she felt that if she let it go now, she would lose part of herself. She
wanted to hold onto it with all her strength and keep it inside. A warm hand
covered her own.
“Reaylin, you must let it go. Do not be afraid,” a soft male
voice said beside her ear.
“I’m not afraid,” she snapped at the mage and huffed
inwardly. She could not let a silly tingle get the best of her. She was a
warrior, and if she backed out now, everyone would think she was scared and
weak. With a silent growl, she released her hold on the energy inside her. In
the next moment, her body and mind were flooded with sensations. It felt like
the warm summer sun and cool fresh water and the sweet scent of nectar on the
wind. It was soft cotton and burning fire and sticky, sugary syrup. Her eyes
popped open as she stared at Wesson in awe.
The young mage smiled indulgently and nodded as he
continued, “Now, feel the vimara, gather it up, and push it toward the broken
leg. I will help guide you, but you need to will it to be so.”
Reaylin looked at the pitiful creature and the
stomach-churning, awkward bend of the leg. Her eyes stared at nothing as she
focused on her inner desire to help the animal, to take away its pain and fix
its problems to make it better. A slight movement stirred within her core, and
she could feel some of the liquid sensation flow out of her. The power trickled
and flowed in every direction like water splashing across the floor.
“Good. You have it moving,” the soft voice whispered. “Now,
push it toward the wound. It is easier if you look at it.”
She really did not want to look at the twisted leg, but she
was a warrior and she could not afford to be squeamish about such things. Her
eyes flicked to the broken leg and then, wanting to be done with this, she
simply grappled a bunch of the energy and threw it at the break. The leg
jerked, and the donkey moaned.
“Okay, that is not going to work,” Wesson said gently. “You
have to will it to heal . Want it, Reaylin. Help her. You
can do it.”
Reaylin grasped the energy again. Of course, she could do
it. Did he think she couldn’t do it? If he thought she couldn’t handle a simple
broken leg, then this pretty boy had something else coming. I bet he’s never
even held a sword , she thought. This time, when she pushed the vimara toward
the injury, she held firmly in her mind the belief that she was going to heal
the dumb animal. What was it thinking, anyway? Stepping in a hole like that.
Wesson smiled. They were finally getting somewhere. “You
keep doing that, and I will do the rest.” He used the connection he had already
formed with the young woman to guide her vimara into and around the wound. The
young journeyman held little talent in healing, generally only good for healing
small cuts and burns or very minor sickness such as nausea, or maybe a cold if
he was really lucky. That did not stop his former master from forcing him to
learn about anatomy and other mundane healing techniques, though.
The young mage deadened the feeling in the leg and then
directed the bone back into place with a sickening snap. The energy wavered for
a moment, and he noticed that Reaylin appeared a bit pallid. He looked at her
questioningly, and she scowled and nodded for him to continue. Directing his
mind back into the injury, Wesson maneuvered a few shards of bone back into
place and simply dissolved a few of the smaller ones. The bones fused and grew
to fill in the gaps. The journeyman then sealed several smaller tears in the
soft tissue around the wound and checked for other damage. He eased
tingling entered her. It seemed to seep into her skin and then fill her throughout.
As it worked its way into her chest, she felt an answering tingle from within.
Her inner tingle started to squirm like a restless child trying to escape its
mother.
“Let it go,” Wesson whispered.
Reaylin did not want to let it go. It was frightening, and
somehow she felt that if she let it go now, she would lose part of herself. She
wanted to hold onto it with all her strength and keep it inside. A warm hand
covered her own.
“Reaylin, you must let it go. Do not be afraid,” a soft male
voice said beside her ear.
“I’m not afraid,” she snapped at the mage and huffed
inwardly. She could not let a silly tingle get the best of her. She was a
warrior, and if she backed out now, everyone would think she was scared and
weak. With a silent growl, she released her hold on the energy inside her. In
the next moment, her body and mind were flooded with sensations. It felt like
the warm summer sun and cool fresh water and the sweet scent of nectar on the
wind. It was soft cotton and burning fire and sticky, sugary syrup. Her eyes
popped open as she stared at Wesson in awe.
The young mage smiled indulgently and nodded as he
continued, “Now, feel the vimara, gather it up, and push it toward the broken
leg. I will help guide you, but you need to will it to be so.”
Reaylin looked at the pitiful creature and the
stomach-churning, awkward bend of the leg. Her eyes stared at nothing as she
focused on her inner desire to help the animal, to take away its pain and fix
its problems to make it better. A slight movement stirred within her core, and
she could feel some of the liquid sensation flow out of her. The power trickled
and flowed in every direction like water splashing across the floor.
“Good. You have it moving,” the soft voice whispered. “Now,
push it toward the wound. It is easier if you look at it.”
She really did not want to look at the twisted leg, but she
was a warrior and she could not afford to be squeamish about such things. Her
eyes flicked to the broken leg and then, wanting to be done with this, she
simply grappled a bunch of the energy and threw it at the break. The leg
jerked, and the donkey moaned.
“Okay, that is not going to work,” Wesson said gently. “You
have to will it to heal . Want it, Reaylin. Help her. You
can do it.”
Reaylin grasped the energy again. Of course, she could do
it. Did he think she couldn’t do it? If he thought she couldn’t handle a simple
broken leg, then this pretty boy had something else coming. I bet he’s never
even held a sword , she thought. This time, when she pushed the vimara toward
the injury, she held firmly in her mind the belief that she was going to heal
the dumb animal. What was it thinking, anyway? Stepping in a hole like that.
Wesson smiled. They were finally getting somewhere. “You
keep doing that, and I will do the rest.” He used the connection he had already
formed with the young woman to guide her vimara into and around the wound. The
young journeyman held little talent in healing, generally only good for healing
small cuts and burns or very minor sickness such as nausea, or maybe a cold if
he was really lucky. That did not stop his former master from forcing him to
learn about anatomy and other mundane healing techniques, though.
The young mage deadened the feeling in the leg and then
directed the bone back into place with a sickening snap. The energy wavered for
a moment, and he noticed that Reaylin appeared a bit pallid. He looked at her
questioningly, and she scowled and nodded for him to continue. Directing his
mind back into the injury, Wesson maneuvered a few shards of bone back into
place and simply dissolved a few of the smaller ones. The bones fused and grew
to fill in the gaps. The journeyman then sealed several smaller tears in the
soft tissue around the wound and checked for other damage. He eased
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