Revenge never rests

Slavomír gasped, struggling to draw in a full breath. Figures moved around him, filtering in and out of view. His next gasp sent him into a coughing fit, but there was nothing to cough up. He lay upon the hard wooden table, staring at the domed wooden ceiling. Please, do something. The wounds on his side had been patched up a few days ago, but there was something wrong. A cough had stuck with him, one that he assumed would go away after a few days. It didn't. His right arm had seized up, and he was barely able to move it. Slavomír had desperately made his way back to the healer's apothecary. 

She entered his field of vision, holding something in her hands. 

“It’s going to be painful for a moment, but this is the only safe way to remove the fluid from around your lung.”

“Fluid?” Slavomír asked.

“Yes, there’s some blood and most likely some infected fluid that's sitting around your right lung, preventing you from breathing. You’ll feel a poke from this little creature. It's going to drain all of that out.”

He coughed, looking at the putrid green creature in her hands. It was the size of a small cat and had no eyes or discernable face. The creature looked like a fat, bloated tadpole, with stubby little arms. A flat mouth, like that of a leech, was only a few inches away from his body. 

“No, there’s no way…” sharp coughing stopped him from continuing.

“It’s the only way,” the healer responded, “It’ll only be a moment.” 

She brought the vile leech over to his right side, so that its wet mouth was pressed against his ribs. The healer kept a firm grip on the creature. He felt something cold wash over him. The Arts…She’s using the power of the Arts on this creature to control it. 

The creature poked him, sending a jolt of pain running up his side. It felt like a thin sharp beak was being pressed into his body. Clenching his teeth, his muscles tensed as it drove deeper.

“Hold him,” the healer said to her assistants.

Hands grabbed his legs and arms, holding him against the wooden table. 

The thin sharp tongue inside him stopped moving. The power that rolled off of the healer’s Art, like invisible waves, increased. I’ve got to ask her…He looked down at the small creature watching it slowly expand. I’m going to stomp that thing into the dirt when this is over. The creature stopped, and he could feel the tongue retracting. With a shudder of pain, the creature’s sharp appendage was out of his body.

The healer took the creature away and her aides moved over to put pressure on the wound. They moved away from him as the healer came back without the slug-like creature. She waved at one of the aides, and he handed her a small bowl and brush. The healer took the small brush and applied a dark substance over where the creature’s mouth had been. Another assistant placed a sticky-looking patch of fabric against his side. The healer placed her hand over top of the fabric, closing her eyes. From her palm, a feeling like small cold roots seemed to wind their way over his wound. 

After a minute, she took her hand away and brought over a rectangular leather strip. On each end, a small circular opening had been cut. The healer placed it on top of the sticky fabric and tied a cloth strip onto it. Her assistants lifted him slowly from the table. They took the cloth strip and wrapped it around his chest before tying it down to the second opening in the leather strip. 

     “There,” she said as her assistants laid him down. “It’s done. You’re going to be okay, Slavomír.”

A short sigh escaped him. It’s done… He looked down at his limp left arm. It was covered in nasty burn scars. He wasn’t able to move it anymore. Slavomír took a deep breath, feeling his right lung fully expand for the first time in a few days. 

I have to ask her about the Arts she used. The power was something I’ve never felt before…I have to ask her…It was too hard to keep his eyes open, and he drifted off.