1. This is nobody that I know. I wrote this long before I knew any of you, back in April.
2.This was never properly ended, so you're just gonna have to imagine how she deals with all this.
It's not that great, but good enough parts are in it that I couldn't pass up.
I should not have magic. He should be dead. I should be a peasant, a normal girl. But I�m not.
It all started when mum decided I should be a herbalist, so she sent me to Amas, one of the best healers. He discovered that I had magic and began teaching me the ways of the healer.
Up in the cabin--mother thought it proper for me to live apart whilst studying--I keep my books and crystals hidden.
The young man, not much older than me, fell from the sky. No tracks, no way for him to have been put there. I found him on my daily visit to the herb field. Once there, I found him crumpled in a heap by my mound of rosemary. He lay on top of my crushed herbs, not moving, and I decided to take him home.
He was badly injured. Several broken ribs, a sprained wrist, a large stab wound in his chest, and cuts and bruises everywhere else. Since his clothes were shredded, I wrapped him in my hooded cloak and put him in my mare�s saddle.
At the cabin, I cleaned his wounds, removed his shredded clothing, then set about to healing him with my palm crystal.
Amas carries his in a pouch tied to his belt, but he is always using it. Mine goes back into its dark velvet wrap and mahogany box after each use.
The man did not die. I wrapped him in a wool blanket and set about getting him some different clothes. His first set, shredded, still seemed odd. I have never seen such fabrics.
Among his clothes, I found a leather envelope of some sort that told me who he was. James Owen. From New Haven, North Carolina. An other-realmer.
He was from the Crotian realm.
Oh God, help me. Croatian reamers were rumored to be evil, ravaging men and impious women. My left hand went to my wooden rosaries at my belt.
I had an extra set of clothes for him, and I folded them and set them at the foot of the bed. A tunic, slops, and belt would have to do until I could get boots or sandals for him.
He was handsome, yes, but seemingly dirty. He looked as if he had not shaved, bathed, nor eaten for a while, and while he slept off my medicine I boiled water for a bath and prepared food. I pulled out my razor--in the summertime, many apprentices shave their arms and legs to stay cooler--soap, a dish, a porcelain mug, leather strap, and brush. I was sharpening the razor when he stirred.
He blinked, rubbed his eyes, then sat up in my bed and stared. Across the room, I jumped up, picked up a plate of food and mug of water, then set them on a tray with folding legs and set it in his lap. He stared longer, first at me, then at the food. I broke the silence.
�You must be starving. Please eat.�
�Where am I?� he asked.
�Toran. South part of Ehven.�
�Where is that?�
I sighed mournfully. He seemed cultured. Definetly Ah-mare-ee-can. I sat down on the trunk at the end of my bed.
�Oh God. Oh my god. I cannot believe this.� he paused, and still staring at his food, asked, �Who are you?�
�Cartinathia of Dartwell. Student of herbalist and healer Amas of Toran. It is why your wounds are gone.�
�Yeah�.how do I get back?�
I snorted. Stupid laugh. �Only the strongest wizards can make portals. Even when they do make them, there�s not a guarantee of the proper destination.�
�But I need to get home.�
�In north Garesh there is a small group that would be able to best guarantee your goal, but they will expect payment.�
�I can pay.�
�Not in their terms. They want gems, crystals, diamonds, gold, but only for small things. For what you ask, it would have to be as priceless as life itself. Even the King paid for their services. It was rumored that he paid with 8 slaves.�
He was quiet.
�The guards will no doubt have sensed a portal. It has been nearly an hour so you must act quickly.�
�What?�
�Other-reamers are the property of the king. The guard makes a round and attempts to find the person once someone comes through. Eat. I have clean clothes and hot water for you. Since I doubt you know how to shave with a straight razor, I�ll show you how.�
I slid the curtain shut that separated my bedroom from the kitchen.
�When the guard comes, you are my cousen from New Chatten, come to live with me for the holidays. The year is 1185, and the date is 10/26. On 10/30 there is the Hallows Festival. King Onassis and Queen Netife rule Ehven. You are a scholar, to explain your educated manner. Lord Tset will have sent the guards.�
�Why are you telling me this?�
I listened to him finish the food and get up off the bed. I heard his blanket drop to the ground and the water slosh in the wooden bucket as he got in.
�You need to know it. They will question you about simple things. If you do not answer all of them correctly, they will take you to Lord Tset for further examination. Make sure you use the soap.�
Sounds of lathering. Furious scrubbing.
�I�ve still got scars.�
�Aye.�
�Why not heal it perfectly?�
�I�m a novice in magic.�
�WHAT?!?!�
�I�m a good healer, intermediate actually, but healing is easy. It�s small magic. Bloody useful, but not impressive.�
�What kind of magic are the portals?�
�Idiot magic. Serves no purpose except to drain you of energy.�
�Repairing things and tranfiguration of yourself or an object is medium-advanced. Growth is too. Conjuring, large-scale transformations, and other large majicks are advanced.�
He was quiet then. The only sounds were the sloshing of the bath water and more scrubbing.
�I suggest you hurry. You do not want the guards to come when you�re not dressed.�
This was met with rapid rinsing. And the sound of James exiting the water. He was getting dressed when a knock at the door announced the guard. I checked that my veil still covered my hair and opened the door a crack.
�Yes?� I peered out at the guards. Six of them.
�Have you seen any strangers, miss?�
�Oh, goodness no. Why?�
�There�s been a portal. May we search your premises?�
�Of course.� The guards pushed the door open, just as James finished dressing and threw back the curtain.
He looked good, but still needed a shave.
�The census shows that you live alone. Who is he?� James spoke up.
�I am her cousen, from New Chatten. James Owen, Pleased to meet you.� James explained and was smart enough to bow slightly. He did surprise me though, by putting his hand on my right shoulder.
The guards roughly searched everything. Luckily, I had burned the shredded clothes and hidden the wallet along with my small store of money and jewelry.
In all, the guards found nothing. No reason to tax me, because although I had what I needed, I did not have any gold or silver lying around. No reason to arrest me, because I had no trace of law-breaking. No reason to take James with them, and no reason to suspect him because he was so protective of me.
Later that day, whilst teaching him how to shave, I taught him about life in this realm.
�It shan�t be that bad. You can live with me until you can build a cottage for yourself.�
I paused to rinse the blade, and reposition it to cut off another swath of cheek foam.
�You could work at many places, because you read, and write, and I can teach you almost anything.�
�Whoa, I don�t plan on staying.�
�You will travel? Where?�
�Home! I want to see if I can convince the wizard guys in Garesh to help me.�
�That will not work.�
�And why not?�
�Because the only reason they would help you is because they serve no king, only money. You could pay them to help you, but they�ll just turn you over if you have no money or anything of value.� I paused again to wipe off and rinse the blade.
I sighed. �Maybe�there might be someone in the far east who would do it, but the trek would be far too long. Atica has some who might to it for a lesser price. Who were you in the other-realm?�
I rinsed the blade.
�I�d rather not tell you.�
�I�m finished.� I wiped off the razor, strapped it, and began putting away the supplies.
James leaned forward and studied his face in the mirror.
�It�s been a while since I�ve had a real shave. I�ve kept a beard, mustache, and lately a goatee. Why do I have to shave again?�
�Only married men wear beards. Only nobility can wear hair above the upper lip. And you look better clean-shaven.�
�Ah.�
He wiped the excess water off with a towel and stood up. He looked around my cottage, finally realizing something important.
�Where will I sleep?�
�I have a hammock in the apothecary. I�ll sleep there. Tomorrow is Monday and I must go to Master Amas. We are preparing for the Day of the Dead this week. On Friday you will not see me at all. I will see to getting you some boots also.
�What do you suggest I do all week?�
I put the shaving supplies up and stood. �It would be best if you stayed here and out of sight. Chop some wood, read my books, try to teach yourself to fit in.�
�I told you, I don�t plan to stay.�
�And I told you it would be a one-in-a-million to get you home!�
�Cartinathia! You must understand, I have to get home.�
�I understand that! But I cannot do what you ask me James! I�m not a sorceress or a wizard! I�m a simple healer! I don�t think YOU understand what I�m doing for you! There�s a reward for turning in other-reamers! Keeping one from the KING is a felony punishable by death! And you wouldn�t want to go back if you knew what they do to make those portals!�
�What?!? What do they do?�
�It requires a soul! A human soul. That is why so few do it and why even fewer will help you. The price of getting you here was a soul. It will be the same for your return.�
James�s mouth hung open. He closed it. I stalked over to the chest of drawers and snatched out a fresh chemise, then threw the towels in the crook of my arm into the wash basket. I would have to clean those tomorrow. I slid closed the leather curtain that separated my apothecary from the rest of my cottage.
My apothecary was odd. In it I kept the extra things given to me as payment. Master Amas disapproves of this, because he says they oft do not come into need. I am the only one of his students who does this, and I find people are more willing to come to me if they know that I won�t demand gold or silver. Because of this I have my mare(from a breeder), my wood burning stove and my four cauldrons(when the blacksmith�s children were sick), several bags of wool each year( I saved a local shepherd), several pouched,
The room was lined with shelves covered in bottles of everything and baskets of fresh herbs. In the right corner were my cauldrons and a large hearth. In the center of the room there was a large table, cleared off for now, and in the back right corner next to the door outside-locked-was my hammock.
I sat my clean chemise on the table and began undressing. First my apron, sooty, stained with blood and food and god knows what else. Then my belt, a long, plain black one with several things tied to it: a pouch hung by string ties, small stag antler-handled dagger, a pair of scissors, a larger wood-handled kitchen knife, and a set of wood rosaries. I coiled the bet up on the table. Next, I took off my partlet, then my green front-closing bodice, lightly boned. After that is my brown kirtle, hiked up with pins for work, which I removed, then unlaced the sides a bit and tugged all the way off. All that was left was my draw-string russet petticoat, which I pulled down around my legs and stepped out of, and my chemise and bloomers. I left both these undergarments on, although I usually sleep with just the chemise.
The next day, I woke up with the sun, changed my shift and hair veil, and got dressed again, switching my dirtied apron for a clean one. I fetched out some coins for James�s boots and some more clothes for him, and slung my bag of healer�s tools over one shoulder.
I saddled my mare and rode her to town. I would be busy this week at school. Despite the fact that I�m a healer and herbalist, the school employs so many different tradesmen, all with low-level but extremely useful majicks. Weavers, blacksmiths, silversmiths, gem-cutters, plant-speakers, weather-witches, cooks, herbalists, and healers. The priests and priestesses of the local temple employ us to prepare their acolytes for the dance of the dead. We dress the acolytes in beautiful silks of pure white, an they wear white makeup and blacken their eye sockets and noses, drawing teeth on their lips. The students join in too, but out whites are not silk, and we do not dance and sing in the square like the acolytes. Everyone wears a mask on the night of the dead, but during the day only the nobles wear them.
At the school, I left my mare with the stable hands.
Master Amas taught only three healers, including myself, plus several herbalists, mostly cooks, who are more likely to be hired in they know a little of medicine.
Today we studied amulets. Talismans of healing or protection. Woven metal, herbs, and charged crystal or stone. Fur or bones works too.
At noon, we broke for lunch I got rolls and tapenade pastry(stuffed with olives and fish, usually anchovies) from he school�s kitchen. I found the tanner�s and sorted through his selection of boots, settling on a dark brown pair, plain but sturdy. I paid the tanner, who wrapped them up. He noticed that they were men�s.
�I don�t believe that these will fit you, girl.�
�Ah, those island dwellers have no mind, do they?�
�Aye, thanks� I picked up the boots and tucked them under my arm, then made my way back to the school.
I had the afternoon free, so I dropped by the weaver�s guild. James would need a cloak for the winter months, and eventually, more clothes.
It was still fall, but winter would be here soon, and James would need wool stockings, a set of linen shirts, a doublet or vest, blankets of his own, and some type of cloak. I had a shorter hooded one-piece that closes with pewter clasps, and a longer circle cloak that is worn under the first in very cold weather.
I bough him four linen shirts, a brown button-up vest, a blue doublet, two pairs of woolen stockings, light green breeches, and four blankets. I fully intended to make him a cloak like my shorter one with two of the blankets.
Sally, the head weaver, bundled these all up with twine, and I tied them to my mare�s saddle and led her home.
I turned round the bend to my meadow where my cottage stood and was happy to see James chopping wood. At least he was getting used to being here. When he heard me, he stopped and waved. After I put up my mare, I laid out the packages on the apothecary table. I cut the strings carefully, and let him sort through the items.
�Boots, shirts, a vest, blankets, socks, pants, what is this?� He held up the doublet.
�It�s a doublet. You would wear it for a special occasion, such as candlemas in December.�
�Wow. Thanks.� He felt the boot leather.
I had given him one of my tooled pouches, and a men�s knife from my storage chest. He wore these proudly on his belt over the dark green tunic.
I told him of my plan for the blankets and fetched a leather pack for him to keep his things in.
Since it was early, I did the laundry, washing my dirty chemises and aprons, along with the towels from yesterday. When I was hanging up the laundry, James watched me.
�How many others like me have you met?� he asked, putting his hand lightly on the clothesline.
�I don�t want to discuss that.�
�Why not?� he drew back.
�I don�t see why I should tell you about my past when you refuse to tell me yours.�
At that, I finished pinning up my last towel, picked up the basket, and walked off.
Once I finished dinner, I started on James�s cloak.
�Cartinathia. I need to know what to do. This world is strange to me. My past is�turbulent. Can you understand that?�
I locked eyes with him. Slowly I nodded. Had I given him a reason to think I was slow or lame?
�Good. I need to know what others like me have done.� I sighed, and returned to his cloak.
�Many are caught. Many. Other-reamers do not fit in here. Some learn to blend in.
He pulled my hands away from their busy sewing.
Holding them gently, he asked, �What is to happen to me?� He had the hands of a warrior, strong but agile, firm but nimble. He would have been a knight if he was born here. I mentally slapped myself. Quit thinking foolishness, girl. He�s probably left a young lady behind, a wife even.
�That�s up to you. I asked Master Ket about alternatives today. He said it is possible to gather enough energy in crystals to replace most of the power. Some of it has to come from a human though. If not too much was taken from me or you�� my voice trailed. I pulled my hands away from him.
�Are you saying I could get back home?�
I thought of going into the details, but I figured he wouldn�t understand anyway, so I said, �Yes.� he jumped to his feet.
�So we could go to one of the groups you mentioned?�
�Yes.� He seemed so happy.
�When can we leave? Now? Tomorrow?�
�At the end of the holidays, after the new year.� He frowned.
�When?�
�In about two-and-a-half months.� His mouth dropped open.
�Why not sooner?�
�One: Nobody travels during the holiday season. Two:It might alert suspicion. Three: I will need time to arrange my affairs, gather supplies, and prepare for such a journey. Genesh is a normal trip, but Northeast Atica and the Middle east are not close destinations. Average time would be�.six months at the least.�
I resumed my sewing. I added,
�Until then, I suggest you aquaint yourself with the customs and expectations of this realm. I will not tolerate a traveling partner than gets us arrested.�
He smirked. �Am I invited to the Day of the Dead Festival?�
�Yes, I suppose you should come, but you will have to wear a costume.�
The next day I came back early. School was adjourned for those not working on the festival. I bought a mattress and instructed James on making a bed of pine boughs like mine. He seemed interested, and within me there flickered hope that he might want to stay.
I decided against adding on to the cottage, and instead placed the new bed under my hammock so we could switch sleeping spots.