In Which a Healer Regrets Saving a Life

“Of course! The Breaking could refer to the betrayal of the Kineser or to the breaking of Stalwart’s kingdom. What do you think?”

The healer gathered the dirty dishes laying around Adal, “I think I’m starting to regret saving your life.”

Adal leapt to his feet in indignation, casting the sheets of his cot aside, “What an unbearable cruel thing to say. Every moment we have the choice to make the world better or worse, why seek evil? You saved the world when you saved me.”

“How?” she asked, her face deadpan.

“I am a historian. Historians discover and record history. Without us, the only people who had ever lived would be the current generation. No? You don’t understand? Well, I’ll not waste my time. I must return home with the scrolls before they tarnish any further. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to read a thousand year piece of parchment which has been lit on fire. Third or fourth hardest kind of restoration at least. Takes ages.”

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The healer stripped the remaining sheets from his bed in two practiced strokes.

“That reminds me. Your friends decided to take a vacation. Probably to Moldeth in Eornostdom. The capitol is a ways south of here. You’ll have to hurry if you want to catch up with them.”

“Nonsense. My work is far more important,” It was only then that Adal noticed he was naked, “My trousers! Where are they? I can’t be seen without my trousers, it would be indecent! Book a carriage would you? And stop staring! Ungrateful of Matthew and Stillow to abandon me like that, but what can you expect, eh? Shame about youth these days, got no head for affairs. My trousers woman! And make sure you don’t forget my girdle! And my shirt! I’ll not look improper in front of a lady. It’s not polite.”