“Well, well. What a mess you have got yourself into.” Purred an androgynous voice; behind her.

Nicola shivered at the sound of the voice, before slowly and cautiously turning to face the speaker.

She looked carefully at the well-dressed figure standing in her meadow.

The woman: for that was her appearance, seemed to be an aristocrat with long dark brown hair which flowed elegantly down her shoulders. From the woman’s head sprouted an elegant pair of Orvisian horns: encrusted in jewels and patterned by dark red glowing runes.

Nicola froze in an uncertain fear: who was she, a demon? She looked similar to the horned man, yet there were differences.

The woman smiled. “You are curious as to who I am: aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Well you are right in thinking that I am what your kind would call a demon. But then again: as with my predecessor I am here to present you with an offer.”

“What kind of offer?”

“Well: it is not quite the same offer as my predecessor. He offered you power of a lord: enough to make your mistress obey you instead. Am I correct?”

“I suppose so.”

Again the demon smiled. “I think he offered you too much: that is partially why you refused it.”

“That is possible: but what about the girl?”

“A girl you say?”

“She pulled me away: yet being with her seemed right.”

“That is interesting.” Mused the demon. “We will meet again Nicola: then I might have something to offer you. Until that time I will be watching you carefully.”

She rose slowly before disappearing off into the mist.

Harold Caecillius sat quietly at his desk in contemplative reading. Before him was a volume of the Goddess’s words: as told by her children. It was a reading from the earlier service: one where the white healer was absent. He decided that it was nothing to concern himself with: she would have her reasons for not attending: which would be for herself only.

He paused for a moment to consider what Lucia had asked of him: to be Nicola’s master in case of any harm befalling Lucia.

But: why him? Green healers were probably one of the most numerous of those able to wield the powers of the divine. The colour itself represented the last of the Earthier ranks of browns, reds and oranges: as well as being the first of the sky related ranks of green, blue and white.

There were also sub divisions within each of the ranks with a different shade of their colour: except for the white healers. He had not met many of them, but all of the white healers had been respectful, with an otherworldly aura around them: whilst their strange eyes seemed to look at him in such a way that he felt as if he was a rabbit before a fox: separated from the rest of the warren and isolated. Yet strangely Lucia seemed different: in a way that he did not know why.

His ears pricked up slightly at the sound of a knock at the door to his cell.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“It is me: Lucia. May I come in Harold?”

Lucia? What did she wish to discuss with him? Reluctantly he placed down his book and allowed his guest to enter.

“Can you do anything for us?” a feeble male voice asked as the red robed sky blue healer waked cautiously amongst the infected bodies kept securely inside the cramp spaces of the ship’s hold.

“I am sorry. This is beyond our knowledge to heal. All we can do; is keep you comfortable. That is, until a white healer arrives.”

“And what happens if a white healer does not arrive?”

“One should arrive eventually. If not the city is doomed: including all of us healers.”

The patient was silent after that: as was the healer, things were becoming worse as more time passed: their only hope would be for a white healer to arrive within the next two days. But as the patients worsened the likelihood of that happening was greatly reduced. He wandered slowly out of the hold of the ship: carefully leaving the quarantined area. A strong gust of wind rattled over the deck of the ship almost knocking him over.

“Could this be a divine wind of hope and change: or a damned blast: condemning us all to death?” He murmured to himself: as he turned to look towards the high bridge which spanned the city of Rhaeadr.

The two healers sat facing each other in an uneasy silence. Eventually he broke the silence.

“So Lucia, what is it you wish to talk to me about?”

“It is about Nicola.”

“Your: young apprentice?”

“Correct.”

“What about her?”

“Well: I guess it would be easier to explain if you tell me about your knowledge of magic.”

“In what way?”

Lucia paused, considering what to say. “Have you entered your own world yet?”

“Once.” Replied Harold “but I was unguided and have not been back since.”

She nodded in acknowledgement to his answer. “Well to put it simply: after the earlier class I began to train Nicola in magic within her own landscape. As I began my second lesson: there was an accident, during which she slipped into someone else’s landscape: someone not connected to her in any way. Of course I was ejected from Nicola’s own mind in the process.”

“Slipped into someone else’s mind?”

“That is correct: but not just anyone’s.”

“Who then?”

“One of the traitors: Lady Shide.”

Harold froze as a shiver ran down his spine at the mention of that name. “How sure are you that it was her?”

“Personally I don’t know: only Nicola does. I seriously doubt that anyone outside our order; know of Lady Shide: I would have never told Nicola of her existence until she was ready.”

Harold nodded in agreement. “So what else did she find then?”

“The city of Rhaeadr is currently overrun by the Caeruleus plague. It is possible that its mystical nature allows Lady Shide to manipulate it in a similar way to us white healers.”

“What do you mean manipulate?”

“In order to heal it us white healers must use the energy it generates as it drains the life-force of its victims. If successful we gain someone still cursed by the plague: but not in the way you expect. I cannot tell you any more otherwise I would be breaking my vows of secrecy.”

“A curse you say.” Mused Harold: looking curiously at the youthful twenty four year-old before him. “I apologise if I must pry but: how long have you been affected by the curse of the plague?”

Lucia looked at him in shock, before looking away sheepishly with a shy smile on her lips. “I would prefer not to say.”

She looked back towards him.

“Harold: How old do I appear to you?”

“About twenty four would be my guess.”

Lucia gave a wry smile “I have had the curse since before I was born: my mother was also a white healer. It is a curse I have had for one hundred and forty four years.”

Nicola woke slowly from her unconscious state: still puzzled by her surroundings. The sheets that covered her naked body seemed to be of a higher quality than anything she was used to: as was the gentle yet firm texture of the mattress beneath her. She shifted slightly to sense the textures against her body whilst she tried to place herself.

To one side: in the shadow of the window she saw a hard stone ledge upon which was made a rough bed: her own bed.

A thought slowly came to her: how long had she been asleep? A clear feeling of liquid pressure was beginning to build up in her groin. A feeling of concern was beginning to build up in her mind: now where was it? Nicola leapt out of bed one hand over her groin: hoping that she did not relieve herself before she reached the toilet. But then the initial problem hit her again: she was still naked. Nicola glanced towards the pile of her robes: she would have to get dressed or at least cover herself if she was to leave the room. Desperately she grabbed the pile of green cloth: throwing her surplice around her neck before heading to the door to the room: covering her groin with her robes and using her other hand to operate the door.

She flung it open to come face to face with both Lucia and Harold.

“Nicola what are you?” began Harold in slight embarrassment at the young girl’s predicament.

Lucia glanced down towards her apprentices movements.

“Nicola: what great timing! We can proceed with another lesson right away.” Lucia smiled: a cruel light shone the pools of inky darkness that prove to be the centre of her eyes.

“What do you mean mistress?” enquired Nicola: pain increasing in her bladder.

Lucia pushed past her apprentice, heading towards her bag: from which after a second of rummaging she produced a vessel for containing liquids.

“I require a urine sample from you: it is the best way to see if someone is healthy or not.”

She handed the pot vessel to her apprentice as she walked out of the cell.

“But Mistress I.” began Nicola painfully.

“Try not to miss.” Growled Lucia in a whisper: leaving her apprentice alone again in the cell.

“Mistress: I think we might have a problem.”

“What exactly do you mean Merdtz?”

The giant steadied himself to carefully compose his reply. “I believe that during the meeting there was a disturbance: I believe somehow an individual gained entry to your world without your permission.”

“That should not be possible Merdtz. How sure are you that such a thing occurred?”

“Sure enough that I hope that I was wrong even though I sensed the intruder with every ounce of my being.”

“Why did you not inform me earlier?”

The demon breathed deeply: he could tell that his mistress was upset. “I wanted to: but I felt that I should know whether I was wrong or not. I needed to check.”

“So where is this intruder?”

“I could not tell precisely: but there were a few things I managed to glimpse.”

“Go on then.”

“The intruder was a young female: as well as being a white healer, or possibly the apprentice of one.”

“A white healer did you say?”

“That was what I could tell.”

Lady Shide smiled at the answer given by Merdtz. “Then they shall be here sooner than we thought.”

He examined the sky carefully as he rode onwards: it was becoming night now, meaning there would be little point in travelling any further by road. Ahead was a way village: an outpost for healers along with a small garrison of hunters. He did not quite know what purpose the hunters served: but he felt certain that it was not good.

He slowed his horse to a gentle trot as he neared the outer edge of the compound: no matter what he had to get to the nearest chapterhouses as rapidly as possible. He dismounted: approaching a small shuttered window within the archway of the gatehouse. The boy knocked assertively: trying to make sure the room’s occupant was aware of his presence. The sound of footsteps signalled that he had been noticed.

“What is it?” growled a grizzled gentleman as the shutters opened.

“I require the use of the Soulway.” Replied the apprentice, in clear and visible exhaustion.

The hunter studied the young man in the pale candle-light: scrutinising the sky blue surplice and the green robes.

“Why would an apprentice require the use of the Soulway?”

“There is an emergency: a significant outbreak of the Caeruleus plague in the city of Rhaeadr has occurred. The assistance of White healers has been requested.”

The hunter looked questionably at the young healer.

“I acknowledge your request to use the Soulway: have you been along it before?”

The young man nodded “Thrice: two times with my master and once by myself.”

The hunter disappeared into the room: heading to the other side of the gateway and opening it for the apprentice healer.

“You may enter: but I suggest you prepare yourself for your destination and your return journey.”

The boy nodded. “I do not expect any less from a gatekeeper-hunter.”

“One final lesson for today: before we turn in for the night.” Lucia Announced, as she looked directly, at her now flagging, apprentice: who was stood across from her on the other side of the grass covered courtyard.

“Now mistress: but.”

“No buts or you will get a beating!” Lucia growled angrily: tossing the leather padded wooden sword to Nicola.

She caught it with some difficulty: fatigue and the weight of the actual practice weapon almost forcing her to drop it.

“Come on! You need to be able to hold it without any problems even if you are asleep.”

Weakly Nicola lifted the heavy wood long-sword so that it was raised in a loose guard in line with the centre of her body.

“Good. Now let’s see you use it!” Lucia barked.

“Are you sure you are not being too harsh to the girl?” queried Harold who sat patiently on the edge of the fountain in the fading light.

“Unfortunately it is necessary.” Lucia replied. “Now pick that sword back up! Right now!”

Reluctantly Nicola responded bringing the sword back to guard.

“Are you ready Nicola?”

“No mistress.”

“Well tough!” shouted Lucia running forwards: her own wooden practice sword readied expertly in her hand for a strike against her apprentice. The practice blade swung in a beautiful and precise arc towards Nicola’s stomach. She noticed the movement: but only just, moving the sword to block the strike. She felt the impact jar painfully against her palms: so much so that she almost dropped the sword: but not quite.

“Good.” Praised Lucia, disengaging from the block “Now let us see how long you can last. As well as how well you can adapt to the situation.”

Before Nicola could protest, another sword blow came swinging around; aimed at her head this time. She ducked below the blade: before realising that she had been given an opening. She charged forwards: aiming to push her mistress over. Lucia stepped out of the way: allowing the sword to encircle her body before preparing herself to face her apprentice.

Nicola stumbled forwards before lifting her sword weakly back into guard.

Lucia spun her wooden practice blade in a fanciful figure of eight flow within her hand before again moving forwards.

The young man carefully munched away at the stew that he had beside him. He continued eating carefully whilst studying the map of the Soulway network that was known. There were hundreds of the mysterious stones dotted about the landscape. A limited number were mapped and of those only a certain amount were either guarded or within close proximity of a settlement.

He slowly traced a finger over the web of pathways which connected the stones. The next stone was in the middle of nowhere: but the one after that was on the outskirts of a town, or at least that was what it seemed to be from the name given to it.

“Permulcere.” He murmured to himself before continuing on with his meal.