Chapter Text
The little boy squirmed in place, his eyes shut tight. "Ejan?" his mother asked worriedly.
"Tickles, Ma!" the boy cried.
Isobel smiled as she knelt before him and the other children, her hands on his shoulders. "That's the bonesplit fever cure. It always tickles a bit."
Aylin felt herself smiling as well, though her eyes remained sharp. They were in the center of a remote mining village at the foot of the Sunset Mountains, and while the Selûnite villagers had given them a cautious welcome, Aylin could tell they were not entirely trusted. She'd grown used to seeing this sort of response from her own people, though it still gnawed at her from time to time. Ever since being blessed by Shar, she had variously been considered a traitor, an evil thrall, a doppelganger, and once even a devil, all by the very people she'd fought to protect for over a thousand years. It hurt, but every ounce of pain was worth it in order to travel beside her Isobel. The elven woman had taken on the mantle of twilight cleric some two months earlier, at Shar's behest, and now traveled Faerûn as a representative of both Shar and Selûne, healing sick children and protecting them against crippling diseases so that no child need ever die from a preventable illness.
Aylin caught a slight movement out of the corner of her eye, and glanced to her left. A petite, golden-skinned woman in leather armor was standing in the nearest shadow, her expression a polite mask. Aylin knew that Lissia was on guard, alert for any sign of trouble. It pained her that no Selûnite village or enclave so far in their travels had been able to accept Lissia as someone blessed by the Moonmaiden. All the mortals ever saw was Shar's daughter, a dark and fearsome entity bent on destruction. Nothing could be further from the truth. Still, Lissia accepted people's hostility with good grace, always staying in the shadows, as she was wont to do anyway. She seemed entirely accustomed to being feared. The unfairness of it grated at Aylin's sense of honor, but she knew that, despite everything, Lissia was utterly happy. The dark aasimar now had everything she'd ever wanted: friends, family, and a lover she could call her own.
The thought of Lissia's lover made Aylin look toward the village well. Sure enough, a figure in silver scale mail was returning with a pewter cup filled with cool water. Shadowheart knelt beside Isobel and handed the little boy the cup. "All this healing must have made you thirsty," she said. "Drink up."
There was a muttering in the crowd, and a man in the garb of the village headman stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. "What's that you've given him?" the man demanded.
"Only water from your own well," Shadowheart replied calmly. "So long as your well is clean, he should be unharmed."
The headman exhaled through his nose, looking highly displeased. "Are you nearly finished?" he demanded of Isobel.
"One more," Isobel told him. Bringing her hands together, she conjured a ball of dim gray light the size of her fist with purple sparks at the center. "This is for the wracking cough," she told the crowd of villagers.
One villager pointed at the ball of light. "Sharran magic," she accused.
The other townsfolk murmured unhappily. Familiar with this reaction, Aylin readied herself for an argument. The headman raised his staff, his eyes on Isobel. "Enough of this," he cried. "We'll have no more of your dark mistress's cures."
Isobel met his eyes. "You would risk the lives of these children, rather than take the cure offered to you?"
"We trust in the Lady of Silver to heal our children herself," the woman who had labeled Isobel's magic as Sharran spat.
Isobel rose gracefully. "I cannot force you to believe I am an emissary of the Moonmaiden," she told them all. "Should you change your mind, my companions and I are camped outside of town for the night."
She nodded a farewell before turning and walking regally in the direction of their encampment. Aylin followed, Lissia and Shadowheart close behind. They made their way out of the village in silence, feeling the weight of the villagers' gazes upon them. Only when they had reached their tents did Aylin see Isobel's shoulders relax. She came up next to her lover, placing a hand on the smaller woman's arm. "Beloved?" she queried softly.
Isobel sighed. "I'm alright. I should be pleased I got as many protections into those children's bodies as I did."
"The headman didn't exactly make things easier for you," Shadowheart remarked.
"I understand his reluctance," Isobel answered. "I don't like it, but I understand it. None of these villagers have ever seen anyone like me. The unexpected can be frightening, especially since I'm working magic on children."
"They should be proud that one in the Moonmaiden's service has come to aid them," Aylin said stubbornly.
Isobel smiled up at her a bit sadly. "They see the Sharran in me first, I'm afraid."
Lissia shook her head. "As word of you spreads, things will become easier," she said. "I'll be interested to see what happens when we finally meet a Sharran family."
The others nodded. In their travels so far, they'd only come across Selûnite settlements. But all of them knew that the Sharrans were out there, hidden away in dark corners. While Aylin was hardly looking forward to meeting the very people she once would have fought to exterminate, she was curious to find out whether the Sharrans were quite as mistrustful as the Selûnites were.
As the sun began to set, they settled into camp, cleaning weapons, organizing supplies, meditating, and so forth. Aylin took a moment to run through a string of practice exercises, in order to keep her muscles limber and her skills with a greatsword sharp. She'd had little to fight besides a few wild wolves on the road lately, but she had no intention of becoming complacent.
Soon enough, Lissia called them to supper. Aylin allowed the enchanted sword to fade from her hand as she joined the others around their campfire. The summer had waned, the crisp air of autumn chilling the sheen of sweat that covered her skin. She gladly accepted the bowl of rice, peas, and sausage slices Lissia offered her. Flecks of red within the bowl promised a hint or more of spice, something Aylin had come to enjoy about Lissia's meals. Since the very start of their journey, back at the Last Light Inn, Lissia's cooking had steadily improved, to the point that Aylin now actually looked forward to eating. After a century in the Shadowfell, every mouthful of food felt like a blessing anyway, but it was nice when the food had flavor.
The four were just finishing their meal when there was a rustling in the bushes. Immediately, they were on guard. Lissia drew her daggers, silently approaching the source of the noise. A few feet away from the bushes, she stopped, her stance relaxing slightly. "A fine evening to you, madam," she said politely. "Be welcome."
A woman stepped out of the bushes, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. "Forgive me for interrupting," she said, her voice slightly breathy. "I only, I just wanted to ask for your aid."
Isobel took a step toward her. "You're in need of help? Healing?"
"No, that is, not yet," the woman stammered.
She glanced down at herself, and Aylin followed her gaze. The woman's belly was large, a sign of a child not long to come. "Please, I..." the woman whispered. "I just don't want anything to happen to her..."
Isobel moved forward and took the woman's hand. "Come, sit by the fire," she urged. "What can we call you?"
"My name is Narina," the woman replied. "I'm wife to the headman of our village."
Aylin's brows raised. Given the frosty welcome the headman had given their party, she was almost certain Narina had not consulted her husband before seeking them out. Isobel hid her surprise better. "What is it you seek, Narina?"
"I thought..." Narina swallowed. "Well, I'm a hedgewitch myself. Nothing special, just what my mother and aunt taught me. But if I could learn a spell or two from you--"
"Then you could protect your little one, when she arrives," Isobel finished for her. "A fine idea. While some of the spells are complex, others are easy enough to learn. I'll teach you all I can."
With that, Isobel began to instruct the woman in various healing spells. Some were specific to childhood diseases, others more general. All were simple and easily memorized. Aylin stayed back, then watched with pride as Isobel took on the role of teacher and mentor. The cleric remained with the headman's wife until nearly midnight, then stood and offered Narina her hand. "You should have what you need to protect your child now," she assured the other woman. "Lady of Silver bless you."
Narina nodded gratefully and left, moving back in the direction of the village. "Well, that was unexpected," Shadowheart remarked.
"Not entirely," Isobel answered. "It makes perfect sense she'd want to protect her baby, and we won't be here when the child is born."
"And as the headman's wife, she likely wouldn't feel comfortable asking for our help in public anyway, even if we were here," Lissia added.
"That too," Isobel acknowledged. "I'm glad she found the courage to come to us now, before we headed further into the mountains."
"As am I," Shadowheart said, and the two immortals murmured their approval.
Isobel yawned and Aylin put an arm around her waist. "Time to rest, healer," she said lovingly.
Nodding, Isobel let Aylin lead her to the tent and bedroll they shared. They climbed in and snuggled together, Isobel's back pressed up against Aylin's chest. The aasimar stroked her lover's arm, nuzzling the elven woman's hair and enjoying the sweet perfume that seemed to belong to Isobel alone. Soon they both were drifting off to sleep, lulled by the quiet sounds of insects humming in the night.