Page 24 of Angel in Absentia
Third, it told the story of Helina Hart, a brave warrior said to have risked her life time and time again in warfare. Fearless and bold, she mastered the art of barriers and seals, capable of crafting barriers so powerful that they could trap or block out cien with all certainty. In her courage, she represented the heart of humanity and was elected as the hero of Loda.
Clea enjoyed the vast theatrics of each introduction, but Ruedom was unmatched in its performances, and unlike Loda’s commitment to simplicity, Ruedom’s theatrics were beautiful and elaborate with rich uses of color, fire, sound, and reflective fabric. She waited with ease for the next phase of the play and was startled when a fourth hero was represented.
Lastly, they introduced Eras Esperrow, a name unfamiliar to Clea beyond the deepest recesses of her research. She balked as they explained that he had been unmatched in wisdom and foresight, mastering the art of healing to such a degree that he could restore the essence of time itself. He was so renowned for his gifts that he was elected as the hero of the city of Salanes, and represented the soul of humanity.
The silence in the auditorium was palpable, an intentional pause left as if for everyone to absorb the implications.
It had been forever since anyone in Loda had openly declared the existence of Salanes.
Clea looked over at Idan, who was already watching her with a grin on his face.
“One step closer to truth,” he whispered to her. “I think we are at last brave enough to take it.”
The words filled her heart with pride, and she glowed, unable to resist a glance at Catagard, who to no surprise was watching her with the same raised brow she’d given Idan just moments ago.
He did not seem distraught or appalled. Rather, he continued to look at her, seated between Yvan and Idan, as if he’d known the truth from the start. She swore she saw the slightest smile, though perhaps she imagined it.
Regardless, she looked back at the play as the Warlord of Shambelin made his entrance. Inspired and surrounded by loved ones, she knew she was ready for tonight’s healing.
Her people would be with her.
CHAPTER 8
SUNLIGHT
LEA CHANGED INTO the long, loose cotton of a healer’s gown. Traditionally white to expose stains or blemishes, it was the clothing of all healers in Loda. Today, that was all she was, approaching the healing temple with her hair tied up simply and all paint removed from her body. Every step as she ascended the temple required a prayer to slowly move the healer’s mind, body, heart, and soul into alignment with the healing.
As was the practice for a difficult healing, she meditated on each step and then took the next. By the time she reached the top, she felt well connected with the ansra stirring in her core and was prepared for the outcome.
When she had felt a profound break in her power and access to a new plane of energy, she’d attempted this healing. That was when the temple, tucked in the back corner of the royal grounds, was renovated. The healing temple, positioned next to others dedicated to the arts of expulsion, sealing, and weaponry, had been more symbolic than anything else. Now, many healers frequented it to meditate and receive training.
A long hallway awaited with empty rooms on either side. Usually, they would be filled with patients, students, and teachers sharpening themselves in the art. Today, the place was quiet.
Clea found Yvan and Dae waiting at the final set of double doors in addition to her father’s standard guards. Catagard was standing with them as well.
“Everyone is supposed to be at the bottom of the stairs,” Clea said. The more presences in the area, the more disruption there could be to the healing process, or so it was said. There wasn’t really enough known about advanced healings to prove otherwise, but tonight, she needed everything to be perfect and wasn’t sure if they were all standing here because they knew it wouldn’t work or because they had absolute confidence that it would.
“We wanted to show our support,” Yvan said, wearing long golden earrings and a similar white garb that brought beautiful contrast to her dark-brown hair and skin. Her near-black eyes were alight with a determined fire. “If you tried this a hundred times, you know I’d be here every time.”
“Thank you, Yvan,” Clea said with a firm nod. Yvan’s unyielding optimism was always a nice complement to Dae’s skepticism and Catagard’s dryness. Dae and Catagard nodded.
“Good luck,” Dae said and seemed genuine.
Clea nodded and pushed through the doors. The great room lifted high above and stretched wide with light in every direction. She approached the pool of steaming water, colored gray and white with balm, healing herbs, oils, and lavender. She wasn’t sure if they actually helped but enjoyed the way they smelled, and so she’d consented to the other healer’s suggestions to include them.
Her father, his body buried in the water with his head poking out, looked deeply disgruntled.
“You look uncomfortable,” she pointed out quietly. The room felt ill-suited for more than whispers. “You lie in your bed all day. Isn’t this better?”
“Then why move me?” he asked, though she’d explained the process multiple times before.
“The water is a conductor. It covers all of you. I can’t be sure the curse isn’t just dodging my ansra if I heal you in pieces. Are you ready to go under?”
He grumbled incoherently, pulling his hand up from the water.
“Good,” she said.
“Are you trying to heal me more for my sake or yours?” he asked. “I’m an old man. I’ve been preparing to die.”
