Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

When Namir awoke it was to the sound of shouting, and a sharp pain in his leg. He opened his eyes and stared up into the mist above him. The sun illuminated a small circular part of the mist directly above him, indicating that it was midday. How long had he been unconscious? He tried to get up, but felt a great weight on his chest. Looking down he saw a large stone settled on top of him. He laid his head to the side and saw the stone still clutched in his hand, a perfect sphere of dull yellow. Beyond that he saw a pair of feet, which upon following them up he discovered belonged to Fayn.

         Fayn simply stood there, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide, staring at the stone. Namir pulled the stone closer to himself and Fayn seemed to snap out of a trance. “Are you alright?” he asked the stone-buried man.

         “I’ve been better,” Namir admit aloud. “How does my leg look?” he asked, worried at what the answer would be.

         Fayn disappeared behind the rock that lay settled on his chest for a moment, then came back. “It was pinched between two rocks when I got here, but I managed to move them, I couldn’t get the big one,” he said gesturing at Namir’s chest. His voice suddenly got very excited, “Did you find it? Is that the stone?”

         “Maybe we’ll find out after we get this thing off my chest,” Namir snapped. Perhaps Fayn didn’t deserve it, but he was in a very precarious situation that need not be prolonged.

         “Oh, of course,” Fayn said, his face cast downward. Fayn reached down and used all of his strength the try to move the stone, after a moment Namir started pushing on it himself, realizing that in his weakened state his friend would not be able to do it alone. Soon the stone was hovering inches above him, and together they moved it to his side and dropped it. When the stone was moved he got to see just how much damage had been done to his leg. It was covered in blood, with a small puddle on the ground beneath it. A sharp piece of bone was sticking through his flesh at an odd angle. He didn’t realize just how much pain he was in until he saw the gruesome sight. He had brought a few healing stones with him, but none that dealt with broken bones, and he was beginning to regret that. His stones were more specifically for open wounds, fevers and infections. Realizing that his friend had been silent the whole time he examined himself, he looked up at him. He was holding something in his hand and staring wide eyed. Namir stood up and gasped when he saw what the man was looking at. A small black object sat curled in his palm. It was one of his fingers.

         After a moment Fayn began to laugh, Namir wondered vaguely if he was losing his mind. He winced as the pain in his leg returned to the forefront of his mind. Fayn stared at him for a moment as if waiting for something, then said impatiently, “Well… Heal it!” He gestured to the stone still clutched in Namir’s hand. Once again, Namir had forgotten about the stone, forgotten why they had come in the first place. He now remembered what had led him to the stone, the dark wraiths, the strange vision, and the long hallway that had brought him to it directly. He now wondered if it had all been a dream as he lay there under the rubble, and he had lost memory of how he had really found the stone. No. Something told him it was real. Associating the stone with the vision and the wraiths made him hesitant to use it, but he lay in the middle of a deserted city with a broken leg and no other way of healing it. He had no choice.

         He held the stone in front of his face, examining it thoroughly. It was flawless; the collapse of the building had not even scratched it. He held it over his leg and began to guide the power within him, letting it course through his body, gaining momentum until he finally diverted it through his hand and into the stone, the stone a mere filter for the energy. He watched as the stone began to radiate a yellow aura, then the aura left the stone and surrounded his leg. The torn flesh around the broken bone slowly healed as the bone withdrew back into his body, he was flooded with utter relief as he watched it disappear into a mere bump beneath his flesh, and then into nothing at all. It had worked. He was healed. This had to be the stone he had been told about; it was certainly special as it had healed both a bone injury and a flesh injury at the same time, a task that would normally require two stones.

         Fayn gazed longingly at the stone after its work was done, leaving not even a scar. “Try it,” he pleaded, “Heal me.” Namir stood up on his newly repaired leg and tested it out. Everything seemed to be working fine. But what would the stone do when faced with an illness such as that which afflicted Fayn. Perhaps it only healed physical injuries, perhaps nothing could heal him. He could imagine the look of defeat that would overcome his friend if it turned out to be so, and he dreaded it.

         “Heal me!” Fayn shouted angrily. Namir could see both fear and anger etched into his face, along with all of the deep crevices filled with blood. Namir walked over to Fayn’s side and told him to kneel. He held the stone above his head and began to let the power cycle through him once more, then released it once again through the stone. Once again the glow left the stone and surrounded its target; in this case all of Fayn. It surrounded him, and for a moment that seemed to last forever, nothing happened. Namir was beginning to believe that his friend truly was incapable of being healed. Then the glow intensified and Namir could see the blood-filled crevices on his friends face begin to close up, squeezing the pooled blood out of them, the man seemed to grow by inches as his posture straightened, and his eyes lit up as if he could sense what was happening. The glow receded, and he knelt before him, seemingly a whole man. Namir looked at his hand. No. Not a whole man. His finger was still missing.