After accepting that any further conversation was likely a lost cause, Caspian turned his attention to the porridge and sausages. Once he started to eat, he was utterly consumed by the need for more. He didn’t stop until his stomach ached. Not a moment after, he heard footsteps on the stairs. Keira did not even look up as Ignatius joined them. Instead, she stood, slamming her book shut and taking it with her.
“Keira,” Ignatius said, halting her. “Stay. I need you to show Caspian to the washhouse.” Keira looked at him and then at Caspian, but Ignatius continued. “There will be suitable clothes for you there. When he’s done, tend to his bruises. The practice will do you well.”
Keira held his gaze before turning abruptly and heading for the door. Caspian hesitated for a breath but got the distinct feeling he was meant to follow her, so he did.
She led the way to the back of the tower wordlessly. The washhouse was a small wooden addition to the back of the tower. Inside was a washtub that was already filled with water. Somehow, it was still comfortably warm. Caspian washed and dressed in the simple tunic and pants that had been left out for him.
Keira spent the time sitting in the grass and rereading the Sanitatem’s instructions for the healing of bruises and cuts. It was simple magic, a spell she had worked on herself more than once. But the thought of attempting it on another person had her nerves tied in knots.
She had been minding herself for an entirely ordinary morning when Ignatius had come down the stairs and told her, “There’s a boy sleeping in the barn. I’ve sent him in for breakfast.” There had been nothing more to it, and then he’d walked in. Caspian was about her age, she’d bet, but tall for it. Though in fairness, she wasn’t the best judge. She didn’t meet many others her age, let alone speak to them.
Caspian emerged from the washhouse. His hair reflected the sunlight almost glaringly. It was not the fair blonde of a child or silvery grey of an old man, but stark white. After the wash, his injuries showed plainly against his fair skin. One of his eyes was swollen shut by an ugly purple bruise. His opposite cheekbone was split with a nasty cut.
“Well, come and sit then,” Keira said, shutting the Sanitatem.
Caspian obeyed, wincing as he lowered himself to sit cross legged in the grass.
Keira leaned in and looked closely at his swollen eye.
“So you’re a wizard too, then?” Caspian asked.
“Yes,” Keira said. “Well, and no. I’m an apprentice mage, if you want to be precise.”
“What’s the difference?”
“A wizard is someone who has studied magic enough to reach a certain level of mastery.” Caspian flinched as her fingers brushed against the bruise on his eye. “Sorry- Hold still. Anyway, I was born with magic, making me a mage, and am studying to be a wizard, making me an apprentice.”
Caspian opened his mouth to ask another question, but Keira shushed him.
“This may hurt,” she warned before working the magic into his swollen eye. The Sanitatem spoke extensively about the caution of healing magics. Urging the body’s natural processes to work faster than intended did not come without its consequences.
Whatever discomfort Caspian endured, he did so quietly, though she could see his fists clenching at his side. He kept his eyes forcibly shut as she did her work.
“That should do it,” Keira said, leaning in to assess her work. The swelling on his face had receded dramatically, revealing his true features. She was studying his prominent brow when his eyes opened. Though his irises were black as charcoal, there wasnothing dark about them. They gleamed brightly in the sun’s light as he watched her with gentle curiosity.
“Okay,” she said, distancing herself to refocus on the task at hand. “Now just take off your shirt and I’ll…” Her voice trailed off, realizing her forwardness, but Caspian only gave a shy smile and removed it. It was a slow process, and once the garment was removed, Keira saw why. His entire abdomen was covered in cuts and welts, his pale skin serving to highlight the damage.
“What happened to you?” Keira asked, unable to deny her revolted curiosity.
“Got in a fight,” Caspian explained with a shrug.
“With what, a bull?” she asked, circling him to see his equally bruised back.
Caspian huffed a laugh but offered no further explanation.
“Whatever it was, it could have killed you.”
“I think they nearly did.”
They were still for a moment.
“This is going to take some time,” she said at last.
Caspian nodded and sat still as her fingers gently grazed his skin. She set her sights on the worst of them, thinking it best to ease the greatest hurts first. Caspian tensed, drawing in a stiff breath through his teeth as the mark faded from deep bloody purple to healing yellows and green before disappearing entirely.
“Be glad the ribs aren’t broken,” Keira said apologetically. The mending of bones was supposedly particularly painful and could result in permanent deformity if done incorrectly. The Sanitatem advised allowing such injuries to heal naturally if possible.
He laughed in a stilted, painful way. “Lucky me.”
