I was a prisoner, enslaved for as long as I could remember. I thought the one who had me caged was the wizard Wraithvine. I was told I was suffering so others would not. Then I met the real Wraithvine, learned the truth, and was freed.
My torment is over, the pain of the body long healed. The painful memories will never fade, but I'm so grateful to hir. Don't worry, ze brought you here so I could help you, as I was once aided.
@internutter/challenge-04099-k081-to-flourish-and-grow -- Anon Guest
There is a place that will heal the worst of broken people. Those not merely broken in body, but also broken in mind. Those who are so downtrodden that they don't know who they are when assisted out from under the boot. Those who go there call it Havengrove, and it is a closely-kept secret.
Mostly because the people who did the treading might attempt to find their former victims.
Wraithvine is not normally a violent being. If there's a solution that doesn't involve causing harm, ze will find it. And once in a very rare while, someone refuses to learn a lesson. Of course, Havengrove is protected by every possible ward and charm. Those there on their first day don't know that, though.
Lavender sang as they moved, because the True Wraithvine had dropped off another patient. They were few and far between, but they did arrive. This latest one was pretending to be asleep in the soft nest that was their current shelter. A slice of bread. A bowl of broth. A cup of clean and fresh water. All these, Lavender arranged where the patient could see it.
"Be at peace," Lavender singsonged. "This is a place of healing and wellness. You will not be harmed." Lavender purposely turned their back. Deliberately making a show of rearranging some decorations on the windowsill.
In the reflection on the glass, there was movement. A too-thin hand snaked out from under the covers and snatched the bread. There was urgent chewing and the soft murmurs of a broken soul encountering something delicious for the first time, one who was also terrified of being caught eating.
Lavender kept singing softly. No sudden moves. No loud noises. "The chicken broth is popular," they said. "Or of you're thirsty, the water is good."
The covers moved, revealing a scarred, half-grown Deep Elf kid. Watching and wary, though they were squinting against the light. They were huddled and guarded as they took up the broth and began gulping it down directly from the bowl. Ignoring the spoon.
Lavender found the smoked-glass spectacles. Silver frames, because those were familiar to people in the Everdark. Unadorned, because they could never know which images might evoke terror. They turned slowly, making no move to take anything away. "These might help ease the pain in your eyes."
The kid, finished with the broth, snatched the spectacles up and put them on. Clenched in tension. Waiting for something horrible to happen.
Which continued to not happen.
Lavender sat, remaining calm. "My name is Lavender. Do you have a name?"
Guarded. Too weak to run. Shuddering as they anticipated a blow.
"It's all right if you want a new one," soothed Lavender. "It's all right if you don't have anything yet. You are safe, and I will see you well."
A very slight relaxation. Not yet brave enough to trust. "You're with the Wizard? The weird one?" Flinch.
"Yes," said Lavender. "Ze saved me, just like ze saved you."
They always started like this child. Soon, the true healing would begin. As soon as they grew brave enough to trust.
[Photo by Daiga Ellaby on Unsplash]
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