Chapter 66: Lord of Healing

Chapter 66: Lord of Healing

The response was quick and clean. Leland rushed across a dark plane, one of infinite expansive cold. He saw nothing but darkness, until he didn’t. The domain of the Lord of Healing came in like a threatened rabid dog. The darkness halted instantly, throwing him onto a sunlit gravel road. He skidded across the rocks as his momentum ended, only his mage robes protecting his delicate skin.

Groaning, Leland fell to his butt, the overhead sun blinding. He groaned again, finding his resolve and pushing himself up. In a single word, he felt small. Looking around pulled a gasp from his lips, one that resounded in echoing walls and towering statues.

Without taking a step, Leland spun around, fully taking in the view. Leading on either side of the gravel path were thick green bushes dotted with brightly lit specks of color. The flowers seemed to take note of him, each turning to view the newcomer with interest . Or, at least, as much interest as a flower could muster.

Beyond the bushes was red brick and gray mortar. Block by block towered higher and higher, encompassing the small alleyway. Yet, the sun never seemed to cast shadow. Actually, the longer Leland thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. The sun was slightly askew in an afternoon sky, one that surely would have brought shadows into the alley.

Leland’s inner musing was cut short as a figure appeared at the end of the gravel pathway. There, standing within the entrance to this domain’s primary feature, was a young woman. She wore white robes laced in gold. She kept her hands clasped and her smile tight. She looked at Leland like an annoyed older sister, one that had been time and time again told not to scold the younger.

She, in a single motion, waved him forward.

Hesitating, Leland looked at his destination. A cathedral, that much was ever apparent. From the vaulted spires that reached toward the sun, to the overt windows filled with stained glass imagery. It was chiseled, he realized as he neared, entirely from a single type of rock. Marble? Limestone? Whatever the case, the pure white walls and towering roof glowed in the sun’s gentle rays.

Nearing the building, Leland suddenly could hear singing. Divine hymns, the kind reserved for only the most devout. The harmonious symphonics glazed through the air, vibrating and growing with natural power. Then, there was a bell. A single ring, from deep within the cathedral.

The sound blazed through the alleyway, shaking the bushes and rebounding off the brick walls. Leland instinctually moved to cover his ears, but stopped. He... he... he felt no pain. In fact, the bell calmed him. Eased him. Made him feel welcome. His feet pulled him faster at that point, anything to follow the sound of the bell.

The gravel crunched at his feet, breaking the monotony of song. As he neared, the brick walls abruptly ended, casting the cathedral’s full form. After a flight of stairs, the church laid upon a pedestal. It sat silently, above everyone and everything, watching. Waiting. Judging. Then Leland saw them.

People, hundreds, thousands, even.

Slowly walking to the church, hand in hand singing the call to divinity, a mob moved. Up the stairs they went, each wearing white and gold. Some held candles, other thick tomes. Some radiated golden warmth, others led the sick, a few even carried weapons.

For only a moment Leland wondered who these weapons were meant for. Searching the crowd provided him with an answer. Far in the back, beyond the sea of white and gold, lay color and pleading cries. People, begging for a miracle. Begging for health. Begging for their desperate wishes to be heard. They weren’t sick. They weren’t injured. They only wished to—

A brisk cough pulled Leland from his thoughts. He turned and jumped. The woman had moved closer, her eyebrow raised and her cheeks puffed. She hummed, spun on her heel, and said, “Follow me, Mr. Silver.”

Leland gulped, but quickly found the means to move.

He was led through the cathedral’s side passages. There were no grand mosaics or lifelike statues, pews or places to worship, not even a single painting hung from a nail. They went up a set of wooden stairs and were suddenly above the main hall.

Looking through the occasional window, Leland’s eyes went wide. The congregation lined up in a single file line, a line that led to a single woman. She stood, a bright smile on her tired face. One by one a person would approach, say a few words, then the woman would either touch their forehead or not. Either way, the person faded like mist against a fan.

“They’re not real, you know,” the woman leading Leland said. “They are simple prayers. Which, I guess, makes them real.”

“Prayers?” Leland asked, his voice fleeting.

“Wishes given form. She hears them all.”

“She?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

The woman’s face lit up. “My Lord, of course.”

Leland didn’t reply to that and quickly fell back in line. He was led to a small room, one full of books, scrolls, maps, and plenty of alchemical ingredients. Jars of oddly colored liquid lined the back wall, each housing many preserved things. Bugs, animals, flowers, even the occasional gem or rock.

“True,” the Wish spoke. “But that is beyond my Lord’s capacity. She is the Lord of Healing, not the Lord of Currency.”

“Why you then? I-I mean your Lord?”

“People will pray to whoever they think will listen. My Lord is simply known for miracles.”

The golden power exited Leland, yet he still felt the need to speak. “You still sound more than ‘nothing’ to me.”

“You have a kind heart, Mr. Silver. I can see why the Lord of Curses speaks so highly of you.”

Leland’s mouth gaped at that. “S-she talks about me?”

“Quite often, yes,” she said, giving him another smile. “But we are not here to talk about such things. Yet, the person who you are destined to speak with has yet to arrive. I fear you may be waiting for a long while. Maybe you should leave and return another, less busy time.”

Frowning, Leland asked, “Can you not create a contract with me? You are a part of her, after all.”

She shook her head. “The power I hold is not the type you are looking for. But your intentions are pure. To heal your friends if the need arises. Admirable.”

“I-I see...” Leland stood, sticking out his hand to the Wish. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Mr. Silver.” She took his hand and shook.

“Before I go, may I ask one question?”

The Wish tilted her head quizzically.

Leland took that as a go ahead. “May I have your name? I’ve been referring to you as ‘Wish’ in my head, but it feels odd.”

A wave of emotions flooded the prayer. She almost stumbled back, only Leland and their clasped hands holding her steady. How long had it been since she last used her name? Since her Lord, her creator, used her name? She started to be called the Lord of Healing nine thousand years ago... Did she even remember her name? It hasn’t been needed...

“Call me... Lily. Yes, Lily. Call me, Lily.”

Leland gave her hand one last shake. “Well, Ms. Lily, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

Lily’s eyes turned away from the young man in front of her. They drifted along the floor, moving out toward the door, and into the grand hall. She couldn’t see her Lord, but she always knew where she was. And, for the first time in a millennia, her Lord looked back. A silent conversation played between Lord and Wish in an instant.

Lily looked back to Leland. “Query the Lord of Nature. Ask for the spell Touch of Regeneration.”

“Wha—”

Leland’s question was cut off as Lily finally let go of his hand. In an instant he was back to the blackness between worlds. He floated for a silent moment before his eyes opened back in the real world.

Jude instantly noticed and put down a bowl of cold stew. “Hey, how’d it go?”

With a grunt, Leland lay back and watched the stars above. “It was... interesting.”