To learn how to heal a deaf man, Therelin had sat in the Temple next to Master Myandin for weeks. With a small, handheld cymbal, his teacher would deafen him—painfully so—and Therelin would spend all day focusing on repairing the damage done to the drums in his ears. The first time had ben terrifying. Therelin had been nearly deaf for days until learning the knack for it. With his focus channeled through his Crux, he had learned how to rebind the fragmented walls of the fluid chambers and repair the structure of his cochlea. The days he did not spend with damaged hearing were spent poring through books. Under Myandin’s tutelage, he read copies of Master Haramas’ historic autopsy of the head, several documents on treated cases of severe hearing loss, and a sluggish volume describing the differences between born hearing-loss and acquired cochlear damage.
The man who sat near Therelin, in the market of Aggan Keep, suffered from the latter. He had found Therelin soon after his arrival in the town square, no more than two hours after the New Comet’s arrival. Therelin had learned the basics of repairing healing, but was by no means a master. He knew it would take all day—or several—to help Vayao to hear again.
On the coast of Radregar, Therelin had found the familiar forests he had missed on the waves of the Grey Sea. His feet on solid ground felt right, and the humidity rolling out of the jungles refreshed his sun-beaten body. Though he could have explored and replenished his herb pouches, he decided it was more important to learn of the land to which he had arrived, and the people who lived upon it. For each person he healed today, Therelin asked only for a story or a conversation.
A newcomer arrived in the market mid-afternoon. “Can you heal a broken arm?” a broad-shouldered woman asked him. She eyed Vayao quietly, as though gauging how much his ailments would delay her own healing.
“It takes a few hours,” Therelin confessed, but waved the woman to sit near him. He had laid out one of his spare cloaks for a blanket, and wore his usual shirtless skirts for apparel. “How did you break it?” he asked.
“Lost my handhold on some rigging and fell on it badly,” the woman explained.
“I’m Therelin,” he said. “Believe it or not, I am from Keth.” He ran his fingers gently along her arm until she grimaced, though she was distracted by his words.
The woman let him prod her arm; though her expressions contorted, she didn’t cry out. “I’m Zivva. From here.”
Vayao cleared his throat. Timidly, he asked the magician, “Will healing her arm slow my ears?” His voice wobbled on certain words, but Therelin estimated he had lost his hearing only a year or two earlier. His tilted speech could have been the result of uncertainty in his voice, or an accent that Therelin did not recognize.
Therelin picked up the parchment again. A townsman had accompanied Vayao to the market after seeing Therelin’s “healing-offered” sign and left the page for them to communicate. Therelin wrote down an explanation, and then held it for both to see. “I think it will take a few days to heal your hearing, Vayao, but only a few hours for Zivva’s arm. I will work on both for now.”
He got a quiet nod from both, and then settled into a more concentrated state of mind. It was a very difficult thing for Therelin to split his attention between two lines of thought. While he imagined the membrane panels in Vayao’s ear smoothing and reforming, aided by nutrients in the blood and force in the muscles, he tried to imagine the fracture in the harbour worker’s arm. He pictured minerals and fibers fusing the broken portions of her radius.
After an hour, he was sweating and his head rang. He stopped to take a drink and clear his thoughts to a tranquil state.
“What story do you want?” Zivva asked, looking at Therelin’s sign. “We hear lots of them in the harbour.”
Therelin shrugged. “I’ve never been to Radregar, but plan on sailing to Saanazar, and then perhaps onward, to Ith.”
“Have you heard the news about Ith yet?” Zivva questioned. When she started to move her hand and test the healing he had done, Therelin stopped her. He was not done yet.
Therelin looked up. He had heard about the Great Isle twice now, but nothing of Ith. “What news?” he asked.
“The city is in chaos,” Zivva explained. “The Mage Kings are dead, if the tales are true. The city is without a clear government.”
The Mage Kings are dead! Therelin had hoped to meet them—even to learn from them. Therelin’s healing must have been working because Vayao nodded to confirm her story. He didn’t reply, and didn’t seem to understand it all, but he pointed to his ear and brushed his fingers together, a form of applause that Therelin had seen the sailors make on the New Comet. At last Therelin asked, “What happened to them?”
Zivva shrugged. “No one knows yet. There’s rumours of everything from a coordinated assassination to a city-wide battle and blood in the streets.”
Therelin shook his head in disbelief. What was he to do now? He could stay in Saanazar—even permanently—or go on to Numa’nakres after learning what he could in Radregar. He had not planned such a journey yet. The Iron Empire was hundreds or even thousands of miles farther west than he had ever intended to go. In Keth, they knew little of that land.
“Will you heal my ears again tomorrow?” asked Vayao. Through the grey scruff on his chin, he smiled at the buzz of his own voice.
“I will be sailing again tomorrow,” Therelin said. When Vayao looked at him inquisitively, he wrote it down. He added, “You could accompany me, if you don’t mind leaving Aggan Keep.”
Vayao nodded. “I’ll go,” he said.
By that evening, Therelin had healed everything but Zivva’s extensive bruises. She still moved her hand and arm in pain, but it was an ache not a bracing pang. She thanked Therelin for his convenient presence in the market, and he thanked her for the news from Ith.
As he continued to heal Vayao, Therelin caught Kado and a few other sailors watching him from across the town square. They stood in the shadows of the broad four-storey tower in the center of the city, the eponymous Aggan Keep. Therelin paid them no mind; he knew he was a sight to behold. A man of complexion far darker than the residents of Aggan, Therelin bore four distinctive tattoos on his shirtless body. He sat in the midst of their town and offered nearly free services, and he had used a tall, white staff to hang a crudely written sign showing his intentions.
“Will you continue healing me if I tell you some of my tale now?” Vayao asked. He eyed Therelin suspiciously. The very thing that Vayao asked was what Therelin had just done for Zivva.
Therelin nodded to him and smiled. He wrote “you don’t have to tell,” on the parchment and passed it closer to the middle-aged Raderan.
“A show of good-faith, then,” Vayao said. “I lost my hearing in the explosion of Mount Lukar, though it is a far older catastrophe than Ith.”
“I don’t know it,” Therelin said, with a shrug.
“You know the city of Ellakar?” Therelin knew it from maps alone. Vayao went on: “It was… annihilated by the blast. There were no tremors, no warning signs. Out of nowhere, the mountain grew and spit out all manner of fire and ash.”
“Right in the middle of the city, or was it nearby?” Therelin questioned.
Vayao nodded. “It was equal parts sudden and awful. I, and many others, had to join the Crimson Highway just to stave off starvation. I ended up here, heading for Saanazar, but unable to afford any healing once I arrived there. Until I found another blessing.”
Therelin dismissed his smile with a respectful nod of his head. A land of anarchy and disaster, he thought. He had a few hours to give Vayao yet that day, but his mind was now distracted by thoughts of these tidings. He retired to his cabin on the New Comet after speaking with Captain Innar about their new passenger. The next day, Therelin resumed his work with Vayao right away. They sailed on toward Saanazar, and whatever chaotic future might await Therelin.