Midnight's Song (65 page)

"That's nonsense," the wounded one
quickly objected. "You have no obligation to help me at all. I tell
you this now – even if your stories have virtue – you don't know
what kind of lion you're dealing with."

"Even if I don't, maybe it's time that
the lion is helped by the mouse."

Now the man was in awe. No one had
ever been this kind to him by choice – none of them as brave to
approach him as she had been. Anyone with eyes could see the color
of his blood. It wouldn't have taken much to figure out that the
color of his blood may have very well been the same color as his
heart. The woman didn't even know who he was, and she was tending
to him as if he were kin!

The woman reached into her satchel
again, but this time the young man didn't say a word. He fell into
a state of complete bewilderment as she hovered over him; unable to
pull himself out of a trance as he stared into her honest blue
eyes.

"This might hurt a little,
but it will help heal your wounds," she informed him. The girl
quickly pulled a roll of gauze out of the bag, then a big bottle of
liquid. She took a small patch of the roll and tore it, using it to
absorb some of the liquid in the bottle before dabbing it over the
gash. The solution sent searing pain into him at first
touch.

"This is worse pain than I've ever
felt," he shook. "Worse than the sword!"

And it was true. In his previous life,
there was a great power that kept him from feeling this kind of
pain. Even in the very end, it kept him from feeling the slaughter.
Though, he clearly wasn't numb anymore. He could feel this pain
just like any other human. Because of that, it was beyond simple
pain. It was unbearable. The girl still didn't know this. She was
baffled by his words. The notion that this could hurt him worse
than a sword seemed quite odd.

"If you want to...you can hold my
hand," she told him uncertainly.

"Might I?"

It was clear that this was no romantic
notion. The man was paralyzed by his pain. She nodded and reached
down to grab hold of his shaking hand. For some reason, she didn't
have to reach as far as she thought. Even without the strength to
move, he managed to reach up and meet her half way. When their
hands met, she braced him for the pain again and reached up to put
gauze on his wound. That was when something strange started to
happen – at least, strange compared to what she'd already
seen.

The blood that had been so black was
now a very human red.

"Alright, I'm going to
have to stitch this up –" The girl started, but was quickly stopped
when she saw another impossible sight.

Not only had his blood changed color,
but his wound was closing before her eyes.

"Thank you," the man whispered a
minute later. It was as if the pain in him had suddenly gone away.
He sat up triumphantly, but was quickly stricken down
again.

"I don't know what's
happening..." the girl fathomed. While he saw it as tragic, she saw
it as a great improvement. “Your wounds...they're almost gone. I
won't have to stitch them up. Still, don't move! I'll wrap some
gauze around it and then I'll be done."

The sun was nearly rising now, so he
got a better glimpse of her face. The rays of light caused it to
become illuminated in a way that was almost angelic. Her blue eyes
glowed like pools of glass and her straight auburn hair glimmered
like rusty gold in the sunlight. She had such a downy, youthful
look to her.

All of her features mesmerized him,
along with her kindness. It caused him to feel the deepest kind of
affection for her. It was a kind of affection that his hardened
heart could barely comprehend as the girl selflessly tended to his
side.

"Who are you?" The man
suddenly asked. She looked over at him for a second, the brushed
her eyes back towards the wound as if it the question was
nothing.

"Talia.”

"Talia," he echoed in amazement. "Your
deeds will never be forgotten."

"It's nothing –" Talia
started, but was quickly hushed

"No. You have helped a lion...and he
is in your debt."

Talia looked down and smiled,
blushing. Half of her felt honored, the other slightly confused.
All she'd done was help him! Who was this person whose promises
felt so grand? Whose words were so deep; whose past so mysterious?
Now her curiosity was at its peak.

"Who are you?" She beckoned, flashing
him an inquisitive look.

The man looked deeply into her eyes
and squeezed her hand. Then, he pulled it close and kissed it. This
kindness was no spontaneous act. It was something worthy of great
reward, a sign that this woman must have been meant for great
things. It was not by chance, but by fate that she had found him on
this day.

"Faolan."