RP:The Corruption Seeps

This is a Healer's Guild RP.

Sylvarus rushes an elvish boy to the House of Ara after being injured by the corruption that plagues Sage Forest.

Sabrina closes the door gently to her bedroom just off the main floor where the sick and injured came to be healed. It was empty today, due to recent events of the returning of Emilia Sabrina had for the first time in history closed the doors of Ara up until this morning. She wore an oversized knit sweater that came just to her hip, comfortable shorts meant for sleeping although she rarely if ever found herself in need. Her hair is down, not a braid in sight, and all professionalism had left her general appearance. Ara was her home, after all. Bare foot and brisk was her walk across the main room; the kitchen was her destination. The room is large, divided in a way where the floorplan was still open but there was a distinct separation of purpose for this space; half for the tending to patients and the other a somewhat cozy living area. The House of Ara’s doors were always open to the public, knocking here would only be perceived as odd. There is a bell attached over the door, should it open the chime would announce any who happened to enter.

Sylvarus is upon the House of Ara within the hour, the druid's pace fueled by purpose and determination this day. While most would have gone to the bridge, just as heavily guarded as ever, the druid saw no need. In truth, he did not understand, nor care for, the civil mannerisms of the more established civilizations in the land. He was one with nature, the realm as a whole was his home. And so, through northern sage's thick brush he ventured, with no real hardship hindering his travel at all. Even the winding vambrance river posed no threat to the child of the world. So, he stands before this place of healing and walks right in. A cloak wrapped form is slung over his shoulder, though the large and muscular elf doesn't seem bothered at all by the additional weight. The chim of the bell rings out, but already is the druid placing the poor soul he brought here down upon the floor gently. Unwrapping the child, anyone present of coming to investigate the door opening, would find a wild looking druid, his hair tied back but dreaded, covered in what looks like bark, moss, leaves and animals hide, hovering over the twisted form of an sleeping elven child. As well, at the windows, local birds would flutter up and land, chirping in a sad tone as if they too know what has happened here. Sylvarus waits for a healer to show up, but takes care to ensure the child remains dormant for now. The vile corruption that has been plaguing the forest has now afflicted the babe. Even young as he is, compareable to a seven year old human, the corruption takes on strange and dangerous manifestations that are above his own healing abilities to handle. Best safe, than sorry. Thus, the druid saught out the woman he met in the forest about a week ago. Her name was enough to find her frequesnt haunts, as well as learn she is quite the healer. Knowing the elves are still embroiled in internal conflicts over leadership, Sylvarus took it upon himself to seek outsiders help is trying to save the child's life. he hopes his faith was not misplaced.

Sabrina hadn’t quite made her destination when the door chimed in that familiar tone. She stops, turning to face the door with a tilt-head expression that meant his presence was a surprise. Thee small form is laid upon the floor and her direction changes as bare feet pad across the cold floor to the elf-child. Frosted mint eyes nearly glow against the dimly lit room, at this hour there was no reason to waste wick and oil. She is careful, knowing she does not wear the protection of the bangles that had been gifted to her to stifle her touch and any grace of her flesh would inflict the other with a distinct feeling of nothing. Not to be confused with the absence of sensation- but the vacuum of vast emptiness completely barren of all emotion. This was intentional, because fear or even love would be amplified to any number of levels depending on the victim’s tolerance and she had been with this affliction long enough to know the outcomes could rarely be predicted and were not limited to pain or shortness of breath but death itself. Her elvish is impeccable complete with woodland twang. “How long has he been like this?” She would direct the other to help bring him to the steel table and once secured there she tended to appropriate lighting so she may better assess the condition.

Sylvarus is not shocked, nor unwavering in his duty as both aid and sentinel over the child's prone form. As she directs him over to a metallic table, he lifts the elfling with ease and brings his body over there, obvious caution taken to avoid contact with the victim's skin as well, given the nature of the corruption that has now begun to act as some sort of contagion. His voice, that deep boom that bellows out, is calm and soothing still as he replies. "Seven hours, maybe more. I was guarding the spring, as is my duty, when the child came through. He stayed for a bit, wandered off, and I was made aware of his being attacked." Here, a pause is taken, as he has to admit. " I didn't make it in time, the creature, once a fox, broke his skin and the corruption seeped in. I tried what I could, but I am not a master healer. But.." Here he looks to the woman, and says in a serious tone. " The corruption twists the child while he is awake. A darkness seeps from him, even manifesting into weapons at times. I put him to sleep as gently as I could, and I've kept him this way, as it seems this keeps both him alive, as well as the corruption at bay." Here, he points out the black viens evident on the child's skin. They pulse, but ever so slowly, as a faint green glow seems to push back at whatever is within the child, keeping it from taking over completely. "So, I came here." He didn't know what else to say to that.

Sabrina’s eyes were on the child all the while his condition is defined. Magical means were not her expertise but then, this could be treated as an infection just as easily. She pushes the sleeves up over her elbows, and without fear touches the child. His eyelids are lifted and a short test of pupillary reaction. His pulse is taken as well as a listen to his chest. She was not in a panic; it had been decades upon decades since she felt a need for a thing such as panic. She lifts the poor boy’s sleeve, opposite the corruption, warm fingers prodding gently to find a firm grip close to the thick veins along the wrist and forearm. All attention was on the elfling, with brows come together nearly to a point and her concentration bringing a certain level of darkness to her eyes. Slowly she began to lend him energy, the frosted mint irises shifting to a springtime green signaling the barrier she built to tolerate exposure to the proximity of others was being let down. Her breathing was steady, purposeful as she attempts to redirect the boy’s bloodstream and push out the infection at a cellular level. It wasn’t enough and the corruption may have already taken root. She monitors the child’s reactions looking for signs of pain because a process such as this was not without its downfall and too much too fast could result in an incredible sensation equal to hours of torture compressed into minutes.

Sylvarus watches as the woman goes about her business, studying her every move as if to learn as well as see where he can help. His own magic was keeping the corruption at bay, for now at least, while she used her skills to try to push it out in a very literal manner. The child, even subdued by druidic magic, awakens as if from a nightmare and screams out due to the pain. Sylvarus is there instantly to pin him down in as gentle, yet powerfully, as he can. His massive arms bulge due to the amplified strength of the elfling, but he manages as he tells Sabrina. "Keep going, its working." As if to aid in proving this, a thick, almost tar like, ooze seeps out the child's pours to begin to pool on the table before it sizzles, then dissapaits into nothing.

Sabrina gives a nod, it would appear the balance of expending energy was a fine art and though well practiced it put a strain on her body. The evidence was in a single bead of sweat that formed at her brow and began a slow and slithering decent down the side of her face, pulling in a group of raven strands to cling to her face. Eyes darken still in the affirmation of potential success, her breath releasing far more labored as that balance would teeter and take its sway. Springtime green is flooded with an abyssal black that swallows up the vibrant hue along with the whites that demonizes her already pale features; this druid was touched by something unnatural and Sylvarus would have sensed it pouring from her aura. The child’s screams would not give her pause, the purifying energies released from her force out the corruption until the flow turns crimson in the fizzle of dissipating ooze. Only then would she release him and rebuild those barriers as she uses the back of her hand to wipe the wetness from her forehead. “Bind the wound.” She directs Sylvarus to the well-stocked utility table alongside the metallic frame.

Sylvarus watches as events unfold, and makes note to remember such a thing that he just witnessed. But now isn't the time. Her demonized appearence and darker, more unnatural abilities were not of importance to him right now. Nor really, where they any of his business. Balance means a equality among both light and dark. To some, she may possess evil magic, to Sylvarus she just used it to save a child's life, and stopping him from becoming a monster. Balance, if you asked the druid, was maintained. He nods, and does as directed. In a few moments he brings back the supplies and dresses and care for the child's wounds. Again he uses his magic to ease his mind, and calm him, as well as heal him as much as he can. Wounds close, the child's breath eases and he returns to slumber more so from the exhaustion of what just occured to him, more so than anything the druid has done. As the child rests, the druid says to Sabrina. " You have my thanks, as well as me owing you a favor now."

Sabrina was looking at Sylvarus as if awaiting some criticism that never came. She was an Ardent and in their world it was proof she had not always been faithful to the druidic way. It gave good reason as to why a River Elf was taking residence in a Human town; the likely conclusion would have been correct in that she was banished from her own. Few would understand this as much as another elf would. And still, the criticism was left unattended. She rubs her hands together, the burning sensation simmered to a tingling sensation something akin to ones limbs falling asleep. “You owe me nothing, I am thankful you thought to bring him in time.” She pulls a blanket from beneath the table and pulls it over the youngling so he may rest more comfortably while he recuperated. She moves to the living area to take a much needed seat and complete the suppression of her ability making her ‘safe’ to be around. “You have some prominent skills. Can I ask why you are not guilded?” He was meant to follow the conversation and let the boy be for now. She was still wiping her hands like one would if they were trying to brush off some debris.

Sylvarus goes to cleaning up, which meant tending to used rags as well as ensuring no lingering corruption remained as he picked up on her desire for conversation. He left the side's side and followed her, replying to her inquiry with. " I serve the forest, even above my own people. It is why I will never hold any position of authority, as I stick to the old ways above all. This is partially a reason for me never joining any guilds in any official capacity." He pauses, and allows himself a moment to relax, his massive frame finding a chair and settling in, before virdian green eyes find the woman, and he says. " Politics, personal views and religion meddle in many things, and oft get in the way more times than not." A hint at that he does indeed know she must have been outcasted for her abilities, but that he is sympthetic towards her. "The Crown Wars tore all our people apart here, in this land. Religion, politics and desires for power. We are children of nature, and nature we serve. Even now, the wood elves have returned, but still fight amongst one another over leadership, direction and ways of life. I choose to simply follow my mother, and serve her, protect her and take care of her. If a guild can help that, then fine, but I often leave without notice, without warning, as with anything in nature, chaos is a way of life, and I am as wild in nature as the creatures I walk amongst."

Sabrina pushes back into the sofa, pulling her knees up casually proving she is at least comfortable here compared to how she would normally be in more public arenas. “There are healers that wish to tend certain areas, there are students that wish to become healers, and then there are those who I may need to call on or may require assistance from the guild in times of need. There are all sort of guilded members and their reasons for joining are all different and also their own.” She is studying him now, appreciative to his ties to the old ways and at the same time concerned for reasons she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “What I need is resources, and that is all I ask.” He had caught her collecting from the spring not but a week prior, but that was not the resource of which she spoke. “I need experienced healers who don’t need the investment of teaching and who could also share their skills with some of the current students. There are many forms of healing, and as you can see mine cannot be taught.” Even without this ‘talent’ to which she resorted to only in desperate times she was still fully capable in other areas of the art.

Sylvarus listens as he watches her study him. She says her piece, and he replies simply. " I am in your debt already, but even more so I feel we walk similar paths. If aid is what you need, I am always abled to be called upon. I am sure you know ways to reach me." On that note, he rises. " If the child can sleep here, I shall send someone for him, but I must return. Voli gets tempermental if I am gone too long, she has cubs to get back to and watch." The bear, a second season mother, was a valuable ally in the forest who would often watch the groves he guarded when he wasn't about. But, if he was gone and didn't return soon she'd wander off back to her cubs. " You did a great thing this day, and I am glad my judgement was right. I feel we shall see more of one another soon enough."

Sabrina was visibly tired and welcomed his departure though she did not rise; she was not sure if she should at this juncture having expended so much and not been out to regain her strength from healing Emilia in days. “The boy can stay; I will have him rest up in the guest room until he is well. Ara is safe.” She suspected as much as he, that they would have many meetings in the future. “Travel safe.”