Tag: chapter 1

I have spent much time contemplating my healing skill and abilities. I have grown in leaps and bounds since I first learned to dull the pain of a broken arm. When i first learned of the Light, when I listened, I did not accept it out of a desire to be better. I did it because I had so little talent in the arcane that i would have eagerly accepted almost anything to replace that lack of talent. In a society where magical talent means much I possess enough skill to do the simplest spells and little more. My strongest spell allows me to conjure candy into existence (and even that comes through an enchanted item.). It took years for me to see the Light as more than the job I accepted whenever I put on my priestly rainment.

It was when I broke my arm I discovered my calling. I could repeat speeches and sermons, repair the armor of my fellows, see the Light, bless things. But the first time I healed I felt my purpose. I left home when i was young and all I desired was a purpose. Not just to be a simple blacksmith, someone big and important. 

I am not big or important in the way i had imagined when I was younger. But I am behind the front lines on the battlefield, the face the wounded see. When I call upon the Light to mend the wounds of my allies I find my purpose again and again. I see them walk off the battlefield or leave me restored. I care deeply about all of them, though I don’t imagine all of them understand this empathy. In some small way I am important. The Light gives me power to bestow its grace and kindnesses as well as its blessings. Flesh mends beneath my fingers and pain becomes a distant memory, bleeding men are healed instead of succumbing to mortal wounds.

Which brings me to the title of this entry. 

Do no harm.

I entered a tourny competition. In every battle up until that point I’d always been a healer. It is an anomaly when there are to many healers so I always chose to heal my allies and I had joined the Guard as a healer. I fought one of my fellow guard- Avada, swift, burning and fierce.  I did not try to inflict harm beyond that of the smallest sorts. I used the Light to tug her hard enough she would stumble or fall, just enough damage to ensure I got a point.  Avada is smaller than I am and I have much more muscle than she does. As a healer I knew where I could break her arm, grab her slender wrist and twist, or call on the Light to hit her with the full force of a hammer blow.

But each time such a thought came to mind I recoiled from the idea. I did not know her as a good, close friend but at the same time I cared for her. I would have rather hurt myself than see harm inflicted on her. I won the battle on a technicality only to lose to a paladin from Lorderon- he threw his heavy warhammer at me, not shying back from a win.

When I fought with my fellow guard as demons invaded Sunsail Anchorage I healed them, chanting and praying. They fought bravely and countless demons died at their hands. But I was no fighter and when the group that healed alongside me was besieged by demons I knew I would fall if I did not run. A traitor demon hunter saw me in her sights before I could gain distance and I could see in her eyes that she wanted my blood on her blade. 

I knew I could save myself. I knew the Light would come. But behind me and bleeding through his armor, Ethalarian stood upright in his saddle. His back was straight, his jaw set, and he clung to his weapon. It was only the briefest of moments but in that moment I cared for Ethalarian so deeply that I didn’t give a thought to my life. I would not, could let him fall from his saddle. 

I felt my strength leave me as I decided, the elation of knowing I was able to heal, that he could possibly walk off the battlefield unhindered. Barely a second after I had chanted I felt pain as my body was thrown into the ground. the sky and the cobblestone blended together as I felt my own blood stain my robes.

I have sworn no oath, no promise, and am not bound by magic or the Light. But I choose not inflict harm. I care so deeply that I do not feel that is something that i remain capable of doing anymore and that making that choice when it is easier to harm is important.

I still craft weapons and items that can inflict harm. but with my own hands, the light and of my own volition, I cannot. It’s not to say that i think myself unable to do so. But it is a choice. I am a healer. I will do no harm, I will commit no injustice, I will speak no bile. The Light gives me its grace and love to restore others, to mend their broken flesh and ease their pain. 

I do not think others will understand how much I care. But if they let me heal them do they really need to? Through the Light I have my calling. To heal it to see the glory of the light, to see their smiles as their pain is heartwarming. And for those who remember what i’m done and thank me I find my only reaction is happiness. For there is nothing greater than to tell death ‘not today’. Even if I am forgotten in the infirmary. Is this not the greatest gift the Light can give me?

(( @trained-trainwreck and @emberfallen for brief mentions.))