Medicine is badly needed for burns, and nerves to be soothed. The forest fire was a bad one, even for the winter months. Though none were killed, there were many injured needing treatment. -- Anon Guest
Once again, the young ones were crying out against the tradition of living in trees. The fire was clear evidence that Elvenkind should -ha- branch out from inhabiting forests. Even if they had perfected the Yggdrassi for family dynasties and thus ended the conflict with the Trolls[1]. The point remained that these homes were still highly flammable. As evidenced by the recent disaster.
Those in Greenbough Hall were lucky to have escaped the conflagration alive. Whether they would continue that trend remained to be seen.
There were thousands, laid out on cots as kindly as possible. In too much pain to rest, too injured to move, and covered with burns. The healers were stretched beyond their limits. There was not enough dandelion to take all their pain away. Many were quietly sobbing, past being able to shed tears.
There needed to be something better. Something more effective. Something to give these poor souls rest enough to heal. Some other option than the potion of eternal sleep.
Willowfine and poppy had helped, but not nearly enough. They didn't have enough poppy, dandelion or willow bark to work well. They'd had to water everything down to the snapping point. The potions to mitigate pain were almost useless, and it was almost a mercy for Wraithbind to see hir goddess stalking to certain beds.
There were officials attempting to figure out how a gigantic house-tree[2] managed to catch fire from the roots upwards. They were so involved in their agitated discussion that they hadn't noticed that they'd walked-and-talked their way into the hall where so many were suffering.
Wraithbind stood from where ze had been tending to a burn victim. "Sirs! This is a chamber of sorrows!"
They did not startle or apologise. They glared at hir. "These are important matters, youngling."
Wraithbind put on hir hat, which should have been immediately recognisable. "I have outlived Dragons. I am not a youngling and do not appreciate your disrespect. Argue elsewhere about things while people are suffering."
They knew hir story. They knew ze was powerful. What they were less than certain about was how much magic ze still had to fling around. That was why they took their argument elsewhere at maximum scurry.
Hir goddess had come for hir patient. No matter how much pain there was, it was still a solid blow. Heartbreaking, because this patient was eleven.
Wraithbind closed hir eyes as another soul left the world of pain.
"There has to be a means to stop their pain that doesn't bring them to you," ze whispered.
I understand, said the goddess who welcomed all. Seek the leftmost tunnel under the burned roots. You will not need to dig. The fluid from what you find will soothe the wounds.
Nobody questioned hir as ze marched to follow hir orders. Ze trusted hir goddess. All ze needed to tell them was that ze was acting on her guidance.
Down into the burned roots, always taking the left turn. Ignoring the non-Elven footprints. Others would find them in good time. The living survivors were more important than finding the culprits.
Down and left in an increasingly darkened spiral. Until a bright orange glow lead hir to a chamber almost overrun with fungus. Some of the fruiting bodies were as big as a pig.
Wraithbind filled a dimensionally transcendant pouch to the point of creaking with those fungi. Ze vowed to investigate the propagation of it at a later day. After ze had saved some souls.
The fluid, pressed from the fungal fruit, was blood red, and smelled... 'fusty'. Ze tried it on those suffering the most, and was greeted by a sigh of relief. The patient could sleep, and thus increased their odds of survival.
Mixed with the topical salve, it doubled the healing speed.
Blessings of the goddess, indeed.
[1] Trolls are perambulatory trees, to boil it down to basics. As they age into senescence, they become sessile and literally put down roots. By then, they are gigantic. The rest if the wandering tribe were very upset to find out that families had moved into their grandparents.
[2] A tree house is a housing structure built into a tree. A house tree is a tree that has been shaped into becoming a housing structure.
[Photo by Zoshua Colah on Unsplash]
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