Devil's tale

Devil's tale, chapter 7

"So if we head due east and travel through the woodlands, we should reach the boarder within a week or four, but that's if we want to risk traveling through military-territory. A safer, but longer road would take us north, through the mountains. The thing about the mountain-route is that there's only one path that leads to the eastern side, where we need to go. Personally, I'd prefer the mountain-road, but going straight east would make us more likely to find someone who could heal your arm." Avarice explained. He and Jazz had been pouring over their new map for half-an-hour already, looking for routes and passages that were the safest to take.

"Maybe we can wait until tomorrow to decide which way to go. You can always ask that cleric-girl if she knows someone who can heal me." Jazz said.

"She hasn't messaged me since the incident at the spring. She's probably scared I'll trick her again." Avarice said as he played with the flames of the nearby bonfire.

"Can't say I blame her, but can't you figure out how to send a message to her yourself? Or is that exclusively a cleric-thing?" Jazz asked.

"No, minstrels can do it to, and I know her name, so it wouldn't be impossible."

"Think she'll make another deal with the devil?"

"Like I said, I doubt it, and contacting her like this would be a breach of privacy, so I'd rather explore other options first."

"Oh to the hells with privacy."

"It's important for clerics, and I suspect she wasn't trained in the grand temple, but rather in a different monastery. She's shy and naïve even by clerical standards. Most religious folk I met at the grand temple were wise, even when they were young."

"You were shy and naïve too, maybe that's why you got along."

"Maybe. I promise I'll try contacting her if we can't find anything else."

"It's not my fault you can't talk to girls." Jazz joked, leaning back and looking up at the stars.

"Hey, how about you try being raised in an all-male school?" Avarice retorted, also lying down on his bedroll, folding up the map for the night.

"I'd say we should head through the mountains. I can manage with just one arm until we get out of this rotten kingdom, and I get the feeling if we go through military territory, you won't be able to help yourself from setting straight every crooked soldier we come across."

"A fair assertion. So we're in agreement that we go through the mountains?"

"Sounds good to me."

"A shame it's not the misty mountains."

"Say what?"

"A place from an old legend I used to read in my spare time."

"Whatever, let's just pray that we don't run into your dad and girlfriend."

"Neither one is what you just-!"

"Sure, sure."

"No really, Roland is- was my legal father."

"Right, forgot about angel-dad."

Avarice looked down at his hands, remembering that he may never see Roland again. He'd tried not to think about it for so long, and he still tried to repress the thought, but he couldn't help but feel hints of tears well up. He sniffed them down and sighed, he had to keep moving forward.

The next morning, the pair began their journey north. They once again followed the river up into the hills, passing by the spring-camp again on their way. Avarice took a moment to scope out the encampment and was pleased to see clerics and medics running about the place, tending to sick and wounded people. "I wish I could see if the commander is okay from here." He said. Jazz pulled at Avarice's tail and he yelped loudly. "Stop being soft, come on." They continued past the camp with no issue. Then began the climb up the mountains, and quickly, Jazz's limp arm started to cause problems. Having only one hand to climb meant not only that Jazz moved slowly, but also that he was constantly yelling curses and insults into the cold air around him, and Avarice feared it may cause an avalanche. He helped Jazz as best he could, using magic to make him lighter, stronger or faster whenever he needed to. Quickly, Avarice became frustrated that he could only control fire, not create it, as the air grew crisp and cold, the higher he and Jazz traveled. They walked and climbed for several days with little event. Avarice spent whatever spare time he had trying to wrap his head around healing magic, leafing through the book he'd gotten from Hector. The problem was that most healing magic was based on stimulating the body's natural healing factor, so regenerating limbs was extremely difficult. Avarice had tried casting a powerful healing spell focused on Jazz's shoulder but nothing had happened, he concluded that the arm must have been completely internally severed. He joked at one point. "Guess it really will take a miracle to heal you."