Halidor - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Farewells and New Beginnings

Ethan groaned. There was not one part of his body that did not ache. What had happened? He tried to recall but his head throbbed in time with every other part of his body making it impossible to think. Suddenly, through the rushing sound in his ears he heard a voice.

“So, young Ethan, you have returned to us, and not before time. You have much to answer for”

Ethan slowly opened his eyes, much as it pained him to do so and saw before him his friend, and fellow healer, Jared. He scanned his surroundings as far as he could without moving his head, as he knew that this would bring immense pain, and realised that he was lying in the infirmary.

“Jared?”, he croaked, his voice sounding strange to himself, “What happened? What am I doing here?”

“You don’t remember?” his friend looked incredulous. “ Well, you are in a fine lot of trouble my friend, I can tell you. If you hadn’t have been near death when you got here, Elijah would have had you flogged within an inch of your life for what you did.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s not for me to say really. I’m just following orders, like. Was told to give you the mildest healing - old Elijah said that he wanted you to endure as much pain as possible to teach you what you did was wrong. Said for me to call him when you awoke so I’d best do as I’m bid.” With that he made to rise, but Ethan reached out and grabbed his arm, though it pained him greatly do so, “Wait” he called, his memory was slowly coming back to him. “Manus, does he live?”

Jared patted his friend’s hand and laid it back upon his breast. “Yes, my friend, he lives” he murmured softly, “although, I fear that, soon, you will wish that he did not.”

Ethan stared after him as he walked away, wondering what on earth he could have meant.

He must have slept again for a time for, when he awoke, there was a plate of food laid on the small chest by his bed. He gingerly forced himself into a sitting position. Although the pain had alleviated a little, still he felt like he had been in a tavern brawl and come off worse. His memory was beginning to return more fully and a sudden flashback forced him to grasp at his face. Was it burned? Was he scarred? It didn’t feel as if he were. And what of his hands? He examined them closely searching his palms. He noted, with relief, they were unmarked.

He turned to examine the contents of his dinner. Some roasted vegetables, a slither of roast pork and some spiced gravy. It had obviously been there some time as the food was cold and the gravy had congealed. He suddenly felt nauseous and turned away from the plate.

“I see you have no appetite. Little wonder for you have enough to digest Ethan Tor, without adding food to the list.” Startled, he turned to see the tall figure of his mage. Ethan noted that he looked suddenly very haggard as if the very weight of all Halidor were sitting on his shoulders. But then, he supposed, his memory becoming clearer all the time, he had just lost his life mate to an unknown band of murderers. Ethan suddenly realised there was much he did not understand.

“Elijah. I am very sorry for your loss. I loved Elia as a mother. If there is anything I can do to help….”

Elijah had looked grateful for Ethan’s condolences but at the last his face suddenly displayed the wrath that he could be famous for.

“Help?! Help, you say boy? I would say that your kind of help is the last thing we require. You have already done far too much.”

Ethan was shocked at this sudden outburst. He wracked his tired mind to try and remember what he had done that was so wrong. He could think of nothing.

“But, master, what is it that I have done. I wish that you would tell me so that I could have an opportunity to defend myself.”

“Very well you shall have that opportunity, but, I assure you, there is no defense for what you have done. None at all”

Suddenly, Ethan was very afraid, He had incurred Elijah’s wrath on many an occasion over the years; his inquisitive mind coupled with his, sometime inability to control his powers had often gotten him into trouble but this was different. This was something else entirely. He suddenly had a feeling that things were never going to be the same again.

As Elijah proceeded to inform Ethan of his crimes, the young healers face grew incredulous and he could not prevent himself from interrupting his Mage:

“But that is my role. It is a healer’s duty to heal. What else was I supposed…”

He cut himself off short and shrank back against the pillows wondering how many more colours Elijah’s face could possibly turn. Now it was a dark shade of purple and he looked like he was going to explode.

“Don’t you dare to interrupt me again boy!!  Your arrogance astounds me! If you had read all your histories and not just the ones that interested you, you would know that it is a Protectors duty to die in the defence of their charge. If they fail in that duty, it is the ultimate shame, not only on the individual but also on the order itself. In sparing Manus, you have brought shame on him and the entire order of Protectors. Not to mention the fact that you almost killed yourself in doing so!”

Suddenly he looked very tired and, for a moment, or maybe he imagined it, Ethan thought he saw a chink in the old mans armour. His voice softened.

“Ethan, You are a talented healer. Perhaps the most talented to emerge for many centuries, but even you must know your limits. It is folly to try and heal someone that has made up their mind to die. Manus knew his duty and you have prevented him from performing it. You have sentenced him to live out the rest of his life in shame. Had I not intervened you, yourself, would surely have died. You are not the only one that has the power within them. Chanting alone would not have saved you”

Ethan was dumbstruck. Of course, how naïve he had been! He had always assumed that he was the only one that had the healing power inherent within but of course Elijah must have had it too to have recognised it in him. Elijah seemed to have read his thoughts.

“All Mages are born with the healing power, Ethan. I have tried to protect you for too long but you must know that I will not live forever and you will have to take my place before too long. You must learn to take responsibility for your actions and not take stupid risks. The future of Halidor lies with you.”

Ethan felt that his entire world had turned upside down, he was trembling and suddenly felt very small and alone. He, the next Mage of Halidor? No, it could not be. He was just a lowborn boy with the healing arts. This was too much responsibility; he did not want it. He would refuse.

“What if I don’t want to be Mage? Maybe there is someone else, someone as yet undiscovered.” Ethan knew he was clutching at straws. Elijah sat on the bed by him and, with uncharacteristic tenderness, took his hand.

“There is no-one else. I have erred greatly in protecting you too much and for that I apologise. There is now, much that needs to be done, for we have entered troubled times. I will need your help. Much that I would ask of you will be dangerous but it is now time for you to take responsibility. Will you do as I ask?”

Despite what he had felt for the old man over the years, Ethan suddenly felt that he would do anything for him. Go anywhere at his bidding, He need only name it.

“What would you have me do?”

“First I need you to go to the Asgarth mine. It is on the furthest reaches of the northlands, two days journeying from here. The mine has been abandoned for many years but in its heart you will find a chamber. I will give you a map to find its exact location. There you will meet one who will assist you. Rest tonight, while you can and come to my study in the morning - there I will brief you more.”

The old man turned to leave but Ethan called him back.

“In my place, what would you have done? You know, about Manus?”

Suddenly, the old, fiery Elijah had returned,

“I would have let him die. As will you next time.”

Ethan watched the old man sweep out of the room, deep in thought. There was so much to take in. This time yesterday, everything was fine, the festival was in full swing and life went on as normal. Now, but a day later his whole world was changed, Elia was gone, rumours were circulating that something was amiss with the portal, he had saved the life of a Protector only to be told that it was a cardinal sin and as if that wasn’t enough, he was to be the next Mage! It was too much. He just wanted to go close his eyes and make it all go away.  His melancholic thoughts were disturbed by a cheery voice; “Not sleeping again are we?” It was Jared and he had brought with him his herb case. “Elijah’s orders. Says I’m to finish the healing as you’ve to be up and about by morning. Sure changed his tune.”

He allowed Jared to carry out his ministrations, listening to his retelling of all that had occurred whilst he had been unconscious.  At Eventide, the funeral pyre was to be lit and all the people of the citadel were to attend, save for those too sick to leave the infirmary. It was said that Logan had spent much of the morning in conference with Elijah and that raised voices had been heard. None knew of what has been discussed but it was supposed it had something to do with Elias death and perhaps the portal. Whatever the outcome, Logan had stormed out with a thunderous expression and headed for the nearest tavern.

“And now, you’re to be sent away on some secret mission to who knows where, although, between you and me, I didn’t hear that. There’s queer things afoot, that’s for…” He was cut short by a blood curdling scream from somewhere within the infirmary, “Sweet mercy, what was that?” cried Ethan.

“That, my friend, is Manus.” Asserted Jared with a grimace. “I’m afraid his memory must have returned. It is just as well you are at opposite ends of the infirmary and, that you are going away tomorrow. Best to have some distance between you until he calms down. If that ever happens…”

Ethan shuddered. Tomorrow couldn’t come quickly enough.

After a light supper, Ethan lay down to sleep but found it to be impossible. There were too many thoughts whirling around in his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flickering light and knew that it had begun. With a heavy heart he made his way to the window to take his place for the funeral of the Lady Elia. He had wanted to attend in person but had been advised against it in case he should meet with Manus, whom, it was considered had more right to be there than he. He had conceded, though it had pained him greatly to do so, for he had loved her dearly, and resigned himself to watching from a distance. The flames had quickly taken hold as Byron, apprentice to the Protectors, sang the lament. He could still make out her slender form, though, wrapped in its ceremonial shroud as the flames licked hungrily at her. The tears flowed readily down his cheeks as he watched Elias last journey. The lament ended and all was silent save the inevitable sobs of the gathered throng and the crackle of the wood on the pyre. The flames took hold and, even from this distance, Ethan could feel the heat on his cheeks. The platform on which stood the chief mourners was now totally illuminated and he could make out the tall, sombre figure of the mage, stood proud and erect in front of his populace. Next to him was the slender frame of Mia, looking more fragile than usual. She was doing her best to remain composed and dignified but her trembling as she tried to suppress her sobs gave her away. Next to her, her fiancée and Officer of the Protector watch, Linus Hay, placed a comforting arm around her. Despite himself, Ethan scowled. He hated the man. Ever since he was a boy there had been something about him. Three years his senior and always bigger than he, Linus had delighted in bullying him at any given opportunity. He only ever picked on those weaker than he and Ethan thought it highly unlikely that reports of Linus’ involvement in the skirmish of the day before were accurate. He also thought it highly likely that it was he that had sparked the rumour that Manus had been involved with the raiders. Of course no one had believed it save for Mia who could have been forgiven in her grief stricken state. “Just like him to take advantage of her when she’s vulnerable” he thought with disgust. Elia had seen right through him. Why, in mercy couldn’t Elijah?

His attention was drawn to three figures at the far end of the platform. He strained his eyes to make out who they were. He discerned with a shock that the hunched figure in the middle was that of Manus supported by two of his Men, Logan Breen his lieutenant, and Nathan Bane the weapons master. The chief Protector looked broken, barely able to stand on his own feet. Ethan knew that this could not be as a result of his physical wounds as he has been completely healed. No, this pain ran far deeper. For the first time, Ethan realised just what he had done. He had acted for the best of intentions but he had sentenced Manus to be shamed for however long the rest of his life was to be. He could not even end things himself as he would be eternally damned and would never be reunited with his charge in the afterlife. For now, this was all Manus had to look forward to.

Ethan had remembered more of the healing as the day had gone on and now recalled Manus’ words that he had taken for delirium, “No, no healing…do not disgrace me….” He closed his eyes at the recollection and recalled something that Elijah once told him
“A Good healer listens as well as sees….” At the time, Ethan had not really known what he had meant but now he knew all too well. There was much he had to put right; he did not know how exactly, but he knew that Elijah had given him an opportunity to try and he would not let him down.

The funeral party was now dispersing. It was over. The lady Elia had gone forever but her death would not go unpunished. With grim determination, he resolved to do whatever he could to avenge her death, not only for her but, for Manus, Mia and Elijah. Ethan Tor would play his part in whatever was to come.


He awoke early the next morning feeling rested but more than a little apprehensive. He could not explain it but things felt very different. The light outside his window looked different, the forests and mountains away in the distance were covered in a haze that he had not seen before. He wondered if this was connected to the events that had occurred two days previously.

The pyre in the middle of the courtyard was still smoldering and would be left to do so until it went out of its own accord, as was Halidoran custom. Then the ashes would be gathered and taken by only the closest relatives to the Mount of the Dead to be scattered to the four winds. Ethan turned back to the dresser and set to washing himself with the water provided. He gasped as he dipped his face and head into the icy cold but was glad of the clarity it brought to him. The old life was gone, today spawned a new beginning for him; he was to leave the citadel and go far beyond anywhere he had ever traveled before, to the furthest reaches of the Northlands to meet someone; someone that would assist him. But who? Who could there be in the furthest reaches, for none save the nomads had reason to go to the mines that had long since been abandoned? “Well, you’ll not find out hanging around here,” he scolded himself, “Best get to Elijah and find out what he has in store for me.” He gathered up his belongings and made his way, quietly, out of the infirmary so as not to disturb the other patients, particularly a certain Officer of the Protectors….

Elijah was already waiting in his study when the soft knock came at his door. “Enter” he called in his commanding voice. Ethan, with shaking hands, turned the knob and tentatively put his head around the door. “Well come in if you are coming, for mercy’s’ sake boy. If you do this task for me if must be with a willing heart.”

He bade Ethan sit down on a gilded chair behind the great oaken desk and then sat on his own throne like chair opposite. Ethan couldn’t help trembling. This was so familiar to him. He had lost count of the occasions he had been summonsed to Elijah’s study to be chastised for one infringement after another. He glanced over to the corner to the wooden wrack where Elijah kept his vast array of canes, which he used all too frequently on him depending on the level of punishment.

Ethan saw the fear in his eyes, “Do not concern yourself boy, I know that you have seen this study more than you would have liked but those days are past. But I would say this; you will have more to fear in the coming weeks and months than the prospect of my cane across your backside. It pains me to place these burdens on you for I fear you are not yet ready but I have no choice, believe me.”

Ethan wanted more than anything to prove himself to Elijah, to prove that he was worthy of anything the Old Man asked of him. “Whatever it is you ask of me, I will do it. I will not let you down.”

“Do not be so quick to commit yourself until you find out what it is I ask of you, for what I am about to tell you will change your perceptions of our world forever, will change your very sense of existence. Are you ready for such knowledge?” The old mans expression was deadly serious but Ethan matched it with a look of grim determination.
“Yes Elijah, I am ready.”

It was two hours before Ethan Tor emerged from Elijah’s study, his features pale and his shoulders heavy with the knowledge imparted on him. For any that saw him would have thought he carried the weight of the known world on him and maybe they would not have been far wrong. But none did, for, at the guidance of Elijah he took a little known passage from the labyrinth of tunnels cut into the rock of the citadel, that led to the Elijah’s personal and secret stables. As he made his way down the torch lit aisles, he wondered, bitterly, how many more secrets Elijah and this citadel kept from the Northlanders. As the dim light of the stable grew nearer, he saw, silhouetted, the one he was told would be waiting for him. Logan Breen nodded grimly at him. “Here are the supplies that you will need, boy.” He threw the heavy pack at Ethan with such force that it hit him in the stomach and winded him momentarily. Logan looked at him in disgust. “If it were up to me, this task would not be yours, for it shames me even to look at you, let alone place the fate of our city in your hands. Still, I have to have faith that Elijah has his reasons, even if my head tries to tell me otherwise. Go, and speak to no one of this mission. And do not fail boy, else you will have me to answer to.”

He all but hoisted Ethan up into the saddle of a black gelding and before he could arrange himself with any degree of comfort, Logan had slapped the horses rump and he was galloping out into the morning dew. As he reached the outer gates of the citadel, which, surprisingly, had been left open and were deserted by the usual guards, he looked back at the place he had called home for his entire life and wondered, bitterly, if anything he had been told or had read in the ancient scrolls had ever been the truth.