(Path of the Dragon Mage: Book 2) 3. The Blight (Patreon)

The horsemen clan had set up their camp outside the city in a lovely field full of multi-colored blooms. Or it was before their herd of horses got their teeth into it.

Either way, they were far enough away from the harbor for the wind not to blow in the smell of fish. Like all population centers within the kingdom, Meadow City was surrounded by high, imposing walls in case of demon incursion.

In defiance of tradition, and some would say common sense, the horsemen stubbornly camped out of the safety of the walls.

During the morning and evening when the sun was at its lowest, the tall wall cast a long shadow over the camp giving the whole area an ominous look.

Or perhaps it was Corvus's imagination. As they walked through the camp, conversation around fires stopped. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as he sensed eyes on him.

Charm, naturally, basked in the attention. Still wearing her moonlight illusion of a horse, she tossed her head and stared directly back at anyone she caught looking. Crowds never bothered her. In fact, she found it natural to be stared at.

Roan, who usually had to have sensitivity beaten over his head with a wooden spoon, leaned over to Corvus. "Think we're in trouble?"

"Yes," Corvus said, "But I don't know how much." Or why.

His question was answered when Kale, Roan's father and the leader of the horsemen, rose from his campfire seat and strode over to meet him. He was a serious, though fair man. Tonight he wore an unusually grave expression that caved shadows in his face.

"Did you two have a good time in the city?"

Corvus winced. He liked and respected Kale, but found it hard to disappoint him.

"We weren't out drinking, if that's what you're thinking," Roan said. He had no problem speaking his mind in front of his father. Corvus envied their easy relationship. "Corvus was trying to find a cure for the boy, you know how he is."

Kale's attention shifted to Corvus. "Any luck?"

"It's not a cure, it's a boost to my power," he corrected. "And… I don't know."

"Charm made quite the commotion upon her leaving," Kale said. "She was clearly visible, as a dragon taking off into the sky."

I was only without my illusion for a moment before I made myself into a bird, Charm complained. From Kale and Roan's non-reaction Corvus knew that she had not spoken to them.

"A moment is all it takes," Corvus answered her before he turned to Kale. "I'm sorry, sir. She was... upset and in a hurry. Did any outsiders see?"

"If they did, none of them have come to us."

That was far from her first unauthorized flight. Some of the villages and cities they'd visited in the past had rumors of a ghost dragon haunting them at night. So far, no one had connected those sightings to Kale's Horse Folk clan. Charm's illusions weren't perfect. They were exhausting for her, and sometimes she forgot to wrap herself in an illusion before she left the safety of the tent. It was easier when the horse folk clan was on the move and there were no outsider eyes to see.

Tell him I said no one saw me, Charm commanded, tossing her head imperiously.

"You don't know that for sure."

Yes, I do.

He gave her a sharp look but relayed the message anyway. Kale nodded. "Let us hope so." Then he sighed, "But that is not the only reason I wanted to talk to you. The elders have discussed Dania’s child."

Corvus stiffened. "I thought I made my feelings clear."

Kale gave him a look. "Dania is suffering. She barely eats, doesn't sleep for the stress of her baby."

"Yeah, watching your kid die in front of you is tough," Roan said.

"It's killing her," Kale said. "And the elders believe, and I agree, if a solution can't be found..." He hesitated, "The boy should be let go. She will heal, in time."

Corvus could not believe what he was hearing. Well, actually yes he could. He'd been hearing it from the elders since the child had started to sicken. But he could not believe that he was hearing it from Kale's mouth.

Sensing his emotions, Charm let out a low snake-like hiss. Corvus had gotten good at hiding his feelings thanks to his formative years in the palace and his Emotional Control skill, but his dragon reflected them back like a mirror.

"I know this isn't what you wanted to hear—" Kale said.

"Dania’s husband is dead," Roan said, coming to Corvus’s defense. "And that child was his. She's not only losing a baby which is traumatic enough, but the last link to her husband. He was a good warrior—one of the clan. His child ought to be honored.”

“And his wife should be protected,” Kale said, “Even if it’s from herself.”

Corvus swelled up. “Firstly, the elders have no say in how I treat my patients. I am a young healer, but they are the ones who asked me to step into the role."

"They can take you out of it, too," Roan said.

Corvus swung around to his friend. "You're on their side?"

Roan held up his hands. "No! I think the elders can stuff their opinions where the sun doesn't shine—"

"Roan," Kale said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "They're also the ones who are responsible for naming you Horseman when I'm dead. Please don't aggravate them."

"And they can stuff that, too. I’m the best heir and they know it," Roan shot back, "And Corvus is right. They shouldn't be sticking their old noses in business between the clan healer and who he's treating. Yeah, Corvus is young, but if they wanted someone older then they need to find—and pay—someone for that position. So there."

"Secondly," Corvus said loudly, before the conversation completely derailed. "I wouldn't count the baby out yet." He rolled up his sleeve to show the new runic tattoo which was glowing vivid purple. It was still very sore, but he had to admit that it looked impressive, especially against the velvet night.

"What's that?" Kale asked.

"A new source of power."

Kale nodded. "Is it enough to counter-act the blight?"

"We'll find out." Corvus walked past him, and Kale didn't call him back.

Roan stayed to continue his tiff with his father, but Charm of course walked at Corvus's side.

You did well.

"I don't feel like I did."

You should stand up for yourself more often, Charm said. Maybe let some of those elders live with their joint aches for a while so they know how valuable a runic healer is.

He sighed, not because he disagreed — he didn't. But because... it was all so petty. By right of his birth, he should be above this.

What's wrong? she asked.

He shook his head. Through long practice he kept his concerns to himself: Why am I worried about the concerns of small men when I could be King?

He enjoyed his time with the horse clan and had been honored when they not only accepted him as one of their own, but given him a position of honor and responsibility. Lately, however, the honor had felt more like shackles.

Perhaps he was only frustrated. Failing over and over again to save a dying child was... difficult.

But perhaps tonight, things would turn around.

He entered his tent, Charm right behind him. The area he had been granted by the elders was large, not only to accommodate anyone sick or injured, but his ever-growing dragon.

Charm let the illusion fall as she passed through the tent. She sighed happily, stretching herself out to correct proportions and extending gleaming pearlescent wings to either side. Her scales were pearlescent white with copper low lights along the edges. Threads of silver and gold wove between her scales. Her eyes were a brilliant yellow and seemed to be lit from within. After her last level up, fresh bumps had appeared on top of her narrowed head, indicating horns would soon grow in.

She was the most beautiful creature Corvus had ever seen, though he was biased.

Charm's nostrils flared as she took in the air of the tent.

The baby's still alive, she announced. As I said he would be.

He nodded, crossing to where a thick rug was hung to partition the entrance from the back of the tent. "Don't nap. I'll bring him out soon."

Yes, yes, she yawned.

He pushed the fabric back to a small patient room. There sat an exhausted-looking woman who cradled a limp child. She was only ten years older than Corvus, but stress made her seem twice that. There were bags under her eyes, her hair was limp and unkempt, and from the tear tracks on her face, she had been crying again.

She looked up as he entered. "He’s getting worse. Didja get the new medicine?"

"It's... not exactly medicine." He had tried to explain this several times, but to most people, there wasn't much difference between herbs and runes. They both made them feel better and that was all that counted. "How's Neville doing?"

"I've been dripping water between his lips, but he won't wake up." Dania clutched the bundle tighter. “Sometimes I’m not sure if he’s breathing, it’s so faint…”

Two months ago, Neville had been a happy, burbling toddler. Then, at ten months old his mother, Dania had taken him to a village healer to have him tested for the Blight. Everyone had been shocked when he came back positive. She brought him immediately to Corvus, who found nothing out of the ordinary.

For two weeks, Neville ate, slept, and grew regularly. Just long enough for everyone to relax.

Then, he had started to weaken.

At first, he only napped longer. Then, Dania had trouble convincing him to eat anything but his favorite foods. His eyes dulled and he was asleep more than he was awake.

Corvus tried every medical rune, and some that were fairly abnormal. At first, certain odd runes such as ‘suppress cough’ seemed to give him new energy. Then slowly, those stopped having as much of an effect. As far as he could tell, the Blight was not a disease at all. The baby's life was simply seeping out of him, and no one could stop it.

Remembering Larissa's story, he had applied to Kale for a supply of herbs. While there had been hope, Kale had altered the travel plans of the entire clan to bring them to Meadow City, where the finest apothecaries could be found.

Again, at first the stimulating concoctions had helped… until they didn’t.

It was as if something in his blood was actively repelling magic. That same something was eating at his vitality.

Now, the only thing he could think of was to pour more power into the boy — use every rune he could at once to break through the hold the blight had on him. It was an idea borne of desperation, but the boy had not woken in days. He was dying in front of their eyes.

"Let me bring him to Charm," Corvus said.

Dania reluctantly transferred the little boy to him. He was shockingly light in Corvus's arms. His arms, once chubby with baby fat, were thin and weak.

Quickly, Corvus returned to the front of the tent. "Charm! Come quickly."

She perked up from where she'd been lightly dozing. Seeing the baby, she rumbled.

He is nearly gone. Her jaws parted and breathed moonlight over his still form.

The infusion had helped Corvus just tonight. She had even once helped Gwen, back when she'd been in the egg... but it seemed to have a very limited and diminishing effect on the baby.

Corvus was connected to Charm by their bond. Gwen had been connected by her blood oath to keep the dragon safe.

Charm bathed more and more soft moonlight over the child. Though she had no connection with the child, it used to help, a little. Now, he didn't stir.

She and Corvus exchanged a look that needed no words.

You want to do this tonight.

"I have to," he confirmed. "I was hoping to wait until my Second Wind resets, but I don't think he has that long."

Then I will help, Charm said.

* * *

Larissa had once suggested Corvus take up sewing or leatherworking as a hobby. He never got around to it, but it had given him an idea.

Using every last coin from his loot drops, he commissioned a master-work quality rug from a weaver's guild. Part of the extreme expense had been to guarantee their silence. In addition, he'd used Gwen and Roan as an intermediary to make sure no word of a rune user fitting his description would be spoken about. As far as he knew, his mother was still on the lookout for any sign of him.

The rug was small — half of Corvus' arm length from one side to the other. But it was ringed in medical runes linked together in a ring. Everything from Knit Flesh - Minor, to Purge Infection, Purge Cough, and a number of others he'd found in his travels.

Over the last two years of researching runes magic, he had discovered a new method of chaining runes together. If arranged perfectly in a ring where the barrier circles touched but did not intersect, he could choose which runes to activate and which not to. They had the strength and stability of a linked rune without the mana draw of activating all the runes in a ring.

The downside was he could not add an ownership stamp, meaning any hedge witch could charge the runes. Since they were runes of healing, he didn’t mind.

The patient would stand in the middle of the circle and he would activate which runes were needed. Everything from fixing broken bones to healing a bad tooth.

Of course, he had put Neville in the rune circle and tried each one of the runes. He'd just never had the audacity or power to activate them all at once.

The baby lay in the middle of the circle, hardly breathing. His mother watched with sunken eyes as Corvus pricked his finger and lit the runes one by one.

On the other side, Charm did the same. She didn't need blood to establish a strong link between herself and the rune. The ones she touched glowed with silvery power.

Some of the runes—such as Purge Rot, and Replenish Blood— were mana-intensive, and grew even more so as he kept them lit. Corvus felt a curious draining sensation as his new mana- reservoir took up the slack. The new ink itched under his skin, but it wasn't nearly as unpleasant as before.

Finally, every rune lit like a blaze of gold and silver candlelight. There was so much magic in the air, Corvus could practically taste it. He had never dared to bring all the runes to life at once like this before. There was a visible halo in the air like the magic had a force.

And a dark, empty void around the baby.

The little boy lay like a dead thing in the middle of the rug, unaffected. His skin actively repelled every charm.

Corvus placed his hands on the rug and pushed more power into the runes — willing them to work, to break through whatever barrier the blight had built within the baby's blood.

Ding!

Warning: Mana well is exhausted.

Second Wind is unavailable while still in cooldown.

Using remaining mana in the secondary reservoir.

Charm, who was still pumping her own mana into the runes, breathed moonlight over the baby again. Silver sparkling motes settled on his limp body with no effect.

Corvus. Her voice was sad. It's not working.

“It has to! Keep going.”

Corvus, maybe—

The shrill protesting scream of a horse sounded from outside. Corvus barely had time to glance up before a being made of shadow thundered into his tent.

No, it wasn't shadow. It was NightShade.

Why was she here?

Corvus didn't remove his hands from the rug as he snapped, "What do you think you're doing? Can’t you see we’re busy?"

Gwen didn't answer. She slid off NightShade and marched across the tent. Her face was pale and her lips were pinched in a hard look on her face he had never seen before.

NightShade screamed again and reared so high his head nearly knocked into the tent’s support beam.

Without a word, she bent next to Corvus and placed something on the baby's chest. A parchment paper with a messily scrawled rune.

"What are you—Gwen, no!"

With horror, he realized he knew that rune.

Spark of Life.

A last-ditch rune made to transfer pure life force from one person to another — with a fifty percent chance of killing the person who activated the rune.

He reached to grab her but it was too late.

The rune activated under her bloodied fingertips in a flash of unsteady blue light.

The baby's eyes shot open and he wailed as Gwen collapsed in place.