Her True Form

Yvette’s words were soft, her right hand slowly swirling through the air. The spell was simple, if boring. It was one of the most basic spells of necromancy. Accelerating the death and decay of things in the soil, either former plants, buried waste and the remains of animals that had been butchered, to spread the nutrients throughout the ground for new life and plants to grow.

Spreading the nutrients over a field was slow, tedious work, but the spell itself was incredibly simple and didn’t use much energy. It was one of the first spells her master had ensured all of his students learned, ensuring that the farmers of their village would always have good, healthy soil to grow their crops.

It always struck her as amazing how many mages had visited their tower and wondered why the food there was so good. In the end, it was just a few hours of work a few times throughout the year, to ensure that the plants would have all they needed. The rewards were well worth it.

Yet her time with Gervas made other memories rise to the surface as well. She remembered how many mages had scoffed at the idea of using their magic for something so simple. Betan had always left it at that, but now she wondered why. She’d been a mere apprentice then, she hadn’t ever dared to question the other masters for thinking in such a way. But Betan had always let it go without any kind of argument.

If he let something like that go, why couldn’t he let the fact she wanted to be a girl go? Why was that the argument he had to have? Revitalizing the soil was something that benefited everyone, her being a girl hurt no one. So why was the second the subject he decided to argue and fight over?

Satisfied with the state of the fields, she lifted a hand up and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Done!” she called back before turning and walking back towards Gervas. The other fields had already been finished, she could see the farmers tending to their crops. Before long, she knew they would be working on these as well. She couldn’t imagine how it had to feel to wake up every morning and work the lands like they did. She’d watched the farmers work more than a few times back home and felt exhausted just imagining it.

Gervas chuckled and reached out, patting her on the head. “Good job, Yvette. I’m surprised you know such a useful spell. Here I thought all you could do was turn into a moose.”

“It was NOT a moose!” she said quickly, glaring up at him, though internally she couldn’t help but enjoy the head pats. She’d NEVER gotten a ‘good job, Yvette’ from her master. It had always been towards Tebaud.

“Close enough.”

“It’s really not. What’s next?”

“Are you sure you don’t want a break?” he asked. “You shouldn’t wear yourself out. The last thing I want to have to do is head back to the inn and have to bring Chestnut because you overworked yourself.”

“No! I’m fine!” she said quickly. A part of her did want a break. But another part of her wanted to keep working. The work she was doing was helpful, more importantly, she felt it was being appreciated. That she, as Yvette, was being appreciated. It filled her with a warm, happy glow.

Galloping hooves drew her attention and she felt her heart begin to race. Instinctively she moved slightly behind Gervas and, to her surprise, he moved between her and the rider.

“Lady Yvette!” the rider yelled moments before the horse came to a stop, skidding slightly in the dirt. “Please, come to the manor immediately, your aid is required.”

Yvette gulped. “I will not. Lady Isouda knows that--”

“Please, there’s been an accident. We require a healer or Ferant won’t last to see the sunset! He fell down the stairs and has been wounded.”

Her eyes widened and she looked to Gervas. “I have to--”

“Go, yes!” he said. “Take her there, immediately. I will meet you there! Go!”

Yvette nodded and stepped towards the horse, letting the pair help her up behind the man before the horse began to gallop towards the walled off manor.

------

There was so much blood. When she’d first seen the wounded man, she’d thought he had to already be dead. A knife lay lodged in his abdomen. He was unconscious, which was likely a mercy, though his skin was so pale he looked almost like a spirit. His body had been laid out on top of a small table.

She felt she should have been horrified, but all she felt was disgust. When she’d arrived, she’d seen three servants cleaning the area where the man had landed. Yet nobody was with him. Once he’d been moved onto the table, no one had stayed by his side.

“I can’t imagine what happened,” Isouda said before motioning to the wounded man. “I heard a loud thump and when I went to check on it, there he was, resting at the bottom of the steps, impaled on his own knife! He must have tripped. Thank the Boar the floor was hardwood or the blood would have been impossible to remove.”

Yvette moved besides the man, casting a quick spell to cleanse her hands. She then reached down with her right hand, placing it against the wounded stomach. Her left hand touched her bracer before dozens of little dots formed across it. A moment later, her magic flowed into the wound and the bleeding stopped.

To her relief, despite how it looked, there wasn’t nearly as much blood spilled as she’d feared. The wound had bled slowly, which was the only reason he was still alive.

“I know how difficult all of this must be for you, especially with a mage so young,” Isouda said, standing in the entrance of the room. “I’ve already had a room prepared for you to recover.”

She blinked a few times and shook her head, ignoring the woman. For now, she needed to focus on her patient. Even if he was lucky to still be alive, that didn’t necessarily mean he’d survive. The knife had managed to avoid anything fatal, though her magic allowed her to feel just how deep it was. It had to be removed if she was going to save this man.

But she didn’t dare pull it out. The bleeding would start again. She placed both hands to the mans chest. “Come on, Ferant...” she whispered. “Isouda! I need you to help me. Hold the knife steady. Don’t let it shake.”

The woman stared, her face turning pale. “W-what? You want me to… to touch it? I can’t! There’s blood everywhere.”

Yvette turned and stared at the woman, her mouth falling open. “W-what?”

“My dress is a--”

“Your DRESS?!” she yelled, barely resisting the urge to throw something at the woman. She heard a heavy pounding from outside a moment later.

Isouda frowned and glanced out of the room. “Who would come here now? I ordered them not to let anyone inside until this ordeal was dealt with. Will someone--” Yvette flinched when suddenly she heard the sound of splintering wood and a chunk of floor fly by the older woman’s head. Isouda shrieked and turned towards the door. “W-what in the heavens are--”

“Yvette!” Gervas’ voice roared.

“In here! I need your help!”

Gervas came racing into the room and she couldn’t help but stare for a moment. His armor was on fully, even his helmet over his head. He carried a spear in his right hand, shield in his left and his eyes blazed with an angry fury. However, when he saw her, she could see the relief in his eyes. He rested his spear and shield against the wall, tossed off his gloves and moved across from her. “What do you need me to do?”

“Give me your hands,” she said quickly. Once he held them out, she quickly cast her cleansing spell on them, touching them for a moment with her left hand. “Hold the knife. Don’t pull it out, but hold it steady. It’ll start to push out, when it does, let it. But do NOT let it wiggle from side to side. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, both hands moving to, very gently, hold the knife.

She then gulped and began.

She’d performed healing magic plenty of times in her life. Her master had had them knit bone and close wounds until he was certain they had it right, beginning with hurt animals before moving onto people.

But that was different. Master Betan wasn’t here to watch over her this time. If she messed up, there wouldn’t be any second chances. She wasn’t even sure she could save this man, the wound was severe enough on its own, but there was other damage across the servant’s body. Falling down the stairs hadn’t been easy on him.

She drove those thoughts from her mind and slowly began to knit the wound with her magic. Very, very slowly she reached into the man’s body, her magic willing the healing process to accelerate. Willing the wound to push the dagger back out. Drawing from both her magic and the man’s own energy reserves, she felt the wound began to heal around the knife and every so slowly push the offending piece of metal out.

Just a fraction at first, but slowly it began to rise from the wound by her magic. The knife itself would have been moving from side to side, but Gervas held it steady, slowly drawing it from the wound. “Don’t pull,” she whispered, afraid to speak louder and risk her concentration. “Let it come out slowly.”

“I know.”

With a soft, squishing sound the knife was finally removed from the man, the wound closing up behind him. She let out a sigh of relief, eternally thankful that Gervas was here. The knife was placed, slowly, onto the table. “You did it,” Gervas whispered.

“Not yet,” she said before looking up at Ferant’s face. She cleaned the blood from her hands before placing them against his forehead. She let out a soft, gentle whimper. There had definitely been some damage there. Worse, unlike the knife wound, she’d never healed wounds like these. She’d read about them, but never healed one herself. Even Betan had been wary of treating such wounds and always advised her to find a mage who specialized in such healing magic, if it was an option.

But that wasn’t an option now.

She whispered the spell as softly as she could, slowly working to undo the damage, reversing it. Returning what was lost and damaged to how it had been. It wasn’t perfect. It wouldn’t undo all damage. It might not undo any damage.

But the alternative was letting him die.

“Yvette?” Gervas whispered. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t talk,” she said, focusing on undoing the damage she could. Repairing and healing what she couldn’t undo. She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there but, when she finally pulled back, her body was caked in sweat. She was so exhausted her legs finally gave out, dropping her to the ground.

She sat on the ground and stared up at Gervas. “I… I don’t know if I did it. I don’t know if I stopped it in time. I don’t… I’m not a healer. I know a few simple spells, but I’m not… I can’t… I… I tried my hardest. I don’t know if I--”

“You’re fine,” Gervas said, moving down by her side, kneeling down and patting her head. “You’re fine. You did your best, that’s all anyone can ask. Do you need anything?”

“Some water. I think I need some water.”

“I’ll get you some water,” he said firmly, before getting to his feet and his gaze turned, coldly, to Isouda. “We’re going to have a talk, all three of us.”

Yvette knelt there, unmoving until she felt Gervas return to her side, slowly pushing a waterskin to her lips. “Drink,” he said. She did so, feeling the cold rush through her.

She felt hollow and empty, as if she had given up a large piece of herself in her attempts. Her mind was clouded and she could barely think when he started to lift her to her feet. It was only thanks to him supporting her that she was able to stand at all.

“He needs warm. He needs to be warm. Blankets. And… and near a fire. He can be moved now,” she said softly, giving Ferant another nervous glance. He was still breathing, at least. But there was nothing more she could do. A true healing mage, one who fully dedicated themselves to the task, could have healed the wound entirely. He would have woken up by now.

Now she could only hope he would wake up. If he did, then she’d succeeded. If she failed, he might stop breathing entirely. “Warm. Please. He needs to.”

“I’ll have it dealt with, quickly,” Isouda said firmly. Yvette couldn’t be sure, but she thought the woman was looking awfully pale as well.

“Fresh air. Please,” Yvette whispered, leaning on her guardian.

“Of course,” Gervas said before helping her walk out through the building. The main door had been kicked in, the wood splintered and broken. Gervas led her outside and into the beautiful, colorful garden and softly sat her down on a heavily decorated stone bench, in the shade of a large, leafy plant. “How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

“Like I just drained every last drop of magic I had and I still don’t know if it made a difference,” she whispered, her mind trying to work through the haze. “I just want to sleep.”

“You’ve had a big day today, anyone would want to sleep,” he said before sitting next to her and gently stroking her hair. “Just rest. We have to leave soon. Recover your energy, sleep if you need to.”

“Can’t. What if they need me?” she asked. “Have… stay awake. Or… strong. Something.”

“I don’t think we should stay until he wakes up.” She couldn’t suppress the grateful feelings caused when he said until, not if. She wasn’t sure she could handle an ‘if’ right now. She closed her eyes and relaxed into him, letting the gentle stroking of his hand help her relax.

“We have to,” she whispered.

“We’ll see. Just rest, Yvette.”

“Thank you… for help.”

“I didn’t do anything. You healed him”

“Needed… someone. Help. Needed this.”

Gervas gave a light chuckle. “Sometimes we all need help. That’s why I was hired, Yvette. For times like this. Even the best of us sometimes need someone to help carry us back when we’re tired of fighting.”

She gave a light chuckle, burying her head against his chest. There was a light smell of metal from his chainmail, but there was something else. It was a little spicy, oddly soothing. Earthy. Him. It was nice, especially now. It didn’t have that terrible tinge that often came from a lack of cleaning. It was fresh and warm. Safe.

“You did a good job, Yvette. You did the best you could, no one could ever ask any more.”

She smiled and gave a soft sigh. Though it made her feel guilty, she could almost feel thankful this happened. She never thought she’d be held in such a way and called who she was. She’d never thought anyone would. But for this moment, for the first time in a long, long while she felt herself entirely relax. She was Yvette, there was no one here to argue that fact with her. She just got to relax and rest, enjoy someone else carrying her while she recovered from her fight.

“Ahem!” Isouda said, shattering the moment. Yvette couldn’t even work up the energy to look up and pretend to care. “Mage Yvette, I believe we need to have a discussion about what your servant did!”

“Go away,” Yvette grumbled.

“I’m sorry?” the woman asked.

“Nothing,” she muttered, slowly lifting her head and eyeing the woman. “What do you want?”

“Your servant broke through my main gate! I demand compensation!” Isouda yelled, moving directly in front of them and towering over them.

Yvette stared up at her and then glanced to Gervas. “Did you?”

“I did,” he said firmly. “And I’d do it again.”

Isouda’s face turned a dark shade of red, her anger filling her voice. “How dare you! You had no right! I will contact the Mage’s Association to--”

“Please do,” Gervas said coldly. “It is my duty to protect Yvette. The gate was locked and I was refused entry. As her guardian, I am permitted to use all means I deem necessary to keep her safe.”

“Refused entry? I had the gate sealed the moment Lady Yvette arrived to ensure there were no disruptions. Had you merely waited--”

“My duty does not include waiting, it is to protect Yvette from any and all threats that may be posed to her.”

“Had you informed them of your intentions--”

“The door was locked against me and I removed it. If it was locked in error that is no concern of mine. Perhaps you should be more careful how you word your orders and ensure there are proper exceptions.”

Isouda gave a dismissive snort. “You believed she would be unsafe here? I--”

“Have proven yourself unable to keep your own servants safe,” Gervas cut her off. “Have insulted Yvette repeatedly.”

“Refused to even help when I was healing,” Yvette mumbled.

“Gotten in the way of her necessary tasks to save your servant. It was completely within my rights to break down any barrier baring my entry. In this case, your door. If you would like to take this up with the Mage’s Association, I would be more than willing to. Perhaps we can speak with Grandmaster Cecily? I’m sure she’d love to hear all about this experience.”

Isouda faltered, the color draining from her cheeks. Her eyes moved to Yvette. “Lady Yvette. I’m sure you can understand this has all been a misunderstanding. My earlier mistake was not meant to be an insult of any kind. I merely--”

“Go away,” Yvette said, moving so her head was back into Gervas’ chest. “I don’t care. I’m tired. Exhausted. Gervas is doing his duty and I trust him.”

“But my lady, I--”

“Leave,” Gervas said coldly. “Have a servant tell us once Ferant has awoken. We’ll depart then.”

There was silence for a moment, but then she heard the steps of the woman walking away. She gave a soft sigh. “You really broke down the door?”

“I thought you were in danger,” he said firmly. “I may have been hasty, but I did warn them to open up.”

“She wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t have been so sure,” he said, his voice going down to a low whisper. “These are her lands. She rules here. As soon as you feel you can ride, we’re leaving.”

“W-what?” she asked softly. “We can’t just--”

“I’ve told you. It’s my job to protect you. I don’t believe you are safe here anymore.”

She pulled back and stared up at him, noticing the concern emblazoned on his features. “I’m not safe? But I’m not--”

“You’re exhausted. You couldn’t fight off an angry rabbit, let alone anything she might do to you. Especially now that you’re in her walls.”

“I came up here to heal someone, that’s all. Once he wakes up we can leave.”

“No,” he said, his eyes watching the main entry way of the house. “We’re leaving now.”

“W-what? But what about--”

“Your safety is most important. Once we get to the vault, we can have a message sent,” he said, his voice filling with frustration and anger at her objections.

“B-but what if… what if I failed? What if he’s dead? I-I can’t--”

“If you stay here we might never be able to leave,” he snapped, angry eyes turning on her.

“She won’t--”

“Damn it, Tebaud! Listen to me. You have no idea what it’s like out here. What these people are like. You’re a mage. They will give you just enough rope to hang yourself if you let them. You’re only as valuable to them as long as they have a use for you. The moment she believes you aren’t valuable, she won’t care. The moment she thinks you’ll make her look bad, that knife won’t be in his stomach, it’ll be in yours.”

She felt as if the air had been knocked out of her. He’d called her Tebaud. After everything they’d done, everything he’d said. He still called her Tebaud. No correction, no fix. No apology. Just Tebaud. She stared up at him, her hand clutching his arm. “You...”

“Yes, I do think we’re in danger. She’s not going to let us leave unless we leave now.”

“You… called me Tebaud.”

“Now is not the time,” he snapped before getting to his feet. He grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet before dragging her towards the main gate.

“G-Gervas… I… I don’t… I can’t--”

“Not now. Come ON!” he snapped.

She followed, not that she had any choice. However, she could feel her heart breaking with each and every step. She’d finally thought he had accepted her. Thought, for the first time, that somebody had understood. That he was trying.

Now she felt like nothing more than a fool.