Chapter 2-59

It took me five days to restore my spirit enough to risk treating the Metic prisoners. Two days for Myta, Sati, and I to recover enough to perform the work. Then three more sessions to reforge all of my core nodes. The process didn’t become any more pleasant, but I couldn’t stand the idea of letting them suffer any longer than I had to.

I also needed to forge a new lancet. My signature tool was invaluable to purging corrupt mana from a patient’s spirit while inflicting the least amount of harm in the process. My first lancet I’d attached to my core node with a flexible meridian I forged for that specific purpose. My new understanding of bonds and the Radiant Sea meant that I no longer needed that link. It also meant that I could have purged the corrupt mana without causing any damage at all, but that method would have been far slower, and potentially more dangerous to everyone involved.

I began my work with those who were least afflicted. My first patient was a young boy, named Brian. He was just over a decade old, younger even than Denu, and his spirit was indomitable. To have awakened and become a shifter so young was incredibly impressive on its own, but when I had first opened his cell he had made a joke about my height. About how he was glad the Pure decided to send in their youth for him to school.

Even with three cracked ribs, a broken arm, and a suppurating burn on his belly, Brian had the spirit to ask me if I’d brought my favorite toy for us to share. When I’d explained our plans to heal and release them, he was one of the only prisoners to show more hope than fear.

By starting with the easiest cases first, I hoped to test my newly strengthened spirit, while practicing my technique in healing the damage these people had suffered. Brian was the first, and he screamed as I lanced his spirit, his coppery-red hair drenched in sweat as I drove corrupted mana from his meridians.

As I had learned with Myta, and perfected with Jito and Kari, I drew him into his inner world, helping him to visualize his body without the scarred brand on his belly. I could feel the rune resist, hatred striving to cling to his flesh, but with my will to support him, Brian drove it out. The small measure of mana I left in his system would let him heal the wound away completely, without scarring, though I would need to check his mana to make sure that the corruption didn’t return before the rune was disrupted.

After the process was over, I left the youth lying on a makeshift mattress. I washed him with cool water, then covered him with a rough, thin blanket that we’d looted from the Pure’s supplies.

“That looked… punishing, master.” Myta squeezed my shoulder and helped me to my feet, leading me toward another cell.

“More from my own stress, than because the work was taxing.” I replied. “Which is good. I expect some of the others to be far, far worse.”

They were.

Brian had been here a few months, and his spirit was unbroken. Some of the prisoners had been here for much longer, or had far darker hearts. Some people were predisposed to hatred and distrust. The first day I managed to treat the seven easiest, and least corrupted of them. After that, my progress slowed considerably. Each day I revisited those I had successfully treated, cleansing the corrupt mana as it built up from the healing rune, then I would work on new patients. By the end of the first week I was reduced to treating only a single new patient each day, perhaps two if I were extremely lucky.

It was an ordeal, but one that honed my skills and will. By the time the last of the prisoners had been healed, I was an expert in not just purging, but transforming the aspect of hatred. Tharsis thrived in my domain, the spirit working with me to turn the poisoned energy into something useful. And as I cleansed the victims of the Pure, four out of five transferred their bonds to me. The druids, rather than transferring existing links, developed new bonds to me. This solidified my suspicion that shifters were manifesting a limited domain when they transformed, every one of them was bonded to their clan elder.

I was concerned that those shifters who joined my court would lose their hard-earned abilities, but my worries were quickly dispelled. Brian demonstrated his new form to me when he overheard me speaking to Ket and Myta on the subject. He had certainly had the form of a vaguely humanoid crow, about seven feet tall. I suspected the gross physical details hadn’t changed that much, but his plumage appeared to be formed of liquid silver, graced with shifting shadows that hinted at innumerable dark colors and shifting characters.

Seeing him like that brought me a sense of… rightness I suppose. A comfortable familiarity and feeling of pride. As though I had forged him a suite of armor to wear with my own hands.

“I doubt it will serve well for stealth,” I noted dryly. “I take it your full name is Brian Finnag then?”

“Not anymore,” was his reply, and he just shrugged when I tried to press him on the matter.

True to Oistin’s words, Clan Math didn’t press us to leave until the last of the prisoners was healed. But the very next morning they were knocking at the door. I tried not to take it too personally. The druids hated having anyone even enter the ruins of the ancients, much less take up residence there. I did press them about exploring the tunnels, and locating every entrance. That was undoubtedly how the Pure had entered the monolith in the first place, and even those who distrusted me most seemed to understand the extent of their vulnerability.

A potentially massive underground warren, with concealed entrances? One that allowed passage farther and faster than overland travel? The implications made even my most stubborn detractor blanch. I was furious that they hadn’t explored these tunnels fifty years ago, but I had been weaker-willed and less coherent back then. I could only imagine they had dismissed my words as the ravings of an unreliable, foreign lunatic.

Math, the actual spirit elder, assured me that the tunnels would be explored. I knew that the great bear had a strong affinity for caves and the earth, and trusted them to handle the matter for now. Many of the self-important members of the clan seemed to find Math’s assurances to be personally offensive, which honestly increased my confidence. Those same people had tried to forcibly remove my new vas, going so far as to attempt to kidnap those Metic who were now bound to me.

That matter was settled out of my sight, though I later found out that even those clan members who had not shifted their bonds had joined in the retaliation. None of them were inclined to tolerate another stint of imprisonment, and few had retained any real equilibrium, or sense of restraint. I was just grateful that there were no deaths over the issue, and wrote off the injuries I saw as the we’ll-deserved rewards of stupidity.

“I have a baile for you, a… homestead.” I glanced at Siobhan as we traveled away from the monolith with a raised brow, not really sure what she was talking about, or where the the comment had come from.

“Peta spoke to me,” she answered my look. “According to her, you’ve big plans here, and a grudge against the Pure. And now you’ve doubled the mouths you have to feed.”

“All true. And this prompted you to offer us land and homes?”

“Aye. I can read the darkening sky.” At my confused look the UnKet sighed.

“You’ve got the fighting power of a small clan now, and the Metic who’ve joined you are already calling Myta UnEsur. They say it in a whisper, or as a joke, but such jokes are only jokes until they can’t be denied.”

“So you see us as a new clan?” I shook my head. “I wanted to find a place for myself here. I love the air of this land, but warriors don’t make a clan by themselves.”

Siobhan gave me an odd look. “Are you keen to keep your people from their families then? **** them to choose between following you, and seeing their husbands, their children?”

That hit me hard. I hadn’t honestly considered who these Metic might have at home. Even the people I’d brought from Ramana might have family waiting, despite how easily they had uprooted themselves to follow me.

Seeing my chagrin, Siobhan pressed on. “Metic isn’t short on land or resources, and neither is Clan Ket. We guard the border with Ootrin, and with war coming, I need help. My elder trusts you, and after what I’ve seen, so do I, so I can well afford one abandoned baile. You’ll be close to the scar, and easy enough for travelers and traders to reach. And Saoirse will stay with you to be my voice there. Even she respects you, and that is hard earned.”

“And it leaves her available for healing.” I hadn’t forgotten the issues the sisters faced.

“Aye,” Siobhan nodded. “She still needs your help, and possibly I do as well.” Her tone held not a trace of guile, making me wince at my brief thought that her offer might be a veiled prod. I had already told her I’d work on the sisters’ issues when I could, and she’d taken me at my word. Yes, I had been busy restoring the rest of my spirit, the meridians and minor nodes outside of my central trunk. Even so, I felt a wave of guilt that I hadn’t made their wellbeing more of a priority.

Seeing my shame, Siobhan laughed aloud.

“You’d best learn to manage that. When you lead a clan, there’s never enough time to do everything you need to do.”

“I still haven’t decided if I plan to found a clan.”

“You have,” the tall warrior laughed, though kindly. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“See what?” I was a little annoyed, but I couldn’t bring myself to argue.

“The future.”