10.2

“He's almost beyond reach,” the blood-mage proclaimed. Nerith must have been dozing off, he never heard the elf (or is it orc?) approach. While the day had come and gone, the exhausted Kliet kept watch in turns over Nasch's healer. They remained immobile the entire day, with the exception of a foul ooze that leaked from the wound in Nasch's side. The goblin healers had done their best to cauterize and seal the wound, and it had stopped bleeding much earlier. It seemed a degradation of condition. “Well? Are you ready sleeping or are you ready to act?”
“We're awake, orc.” Nerith snapped, putting the Kliet before the guest intentionally. “Do not patronize us; You'll not blame your failure on us.”
“My failure? This goblin was so near death when I saw him, his fingers were already black with the dirt. His body was broken long ago, and even now his spirit fails; Were it not for me, your Nasch would be gone already!”
Krina was awake now, “You bled him, I saw; and what cure have you worked? Nasch turns ever closer to a corpse while you are motionless over him!”
“How can I teach such barbarians the ways of medical science? His blood became poison to him, through his wound, tiny life eats his life. That is why I opened the wound. Now listen to me!”
“No, you listen. You are twice the Wizard's blood enemy, both elf and orc. You deserve death for the crimes of your clans [nations]. Yet we show mercy; You have your life only while Nasch has his.”
“Fine. Kill me, if you can. Nasch dies with me; if I do not act he will pass before the moon rises.”
Tyisch entered the room from his chamber, behind Aytheur. He had been all day at the festival, and seemed to have aged years in that time. “To save Nasch, what must we do?”

“The energy of Nasch's life passes out of him; He must be moved somewhere green. Somewhere full of life, that I might restore his strength. The tiny life, the parasites, consume him now...”
Krina cut him off. “He is very sick, we know. We'll move him where ever you tell us; now shut up.
“The druid's grove,” Tyisch stated. “A place green with life? There is no better place, it's magic is well known.”
Krina took over. “Nerith, go tell the guards at the gate we're moving Nasch and the orc.”
“Elf.” Aytheur said.
“Whatever,” Krina dismissed him. “Tyisch, can you help me get the litter?”

In minutes they were prepared to leave. Nerith insisted on helping carry Nasch, rather than letting the guards do it. Krina collected torches to light their way, and Tyisch sent one of the serving girls in his employ to run ahead and tell the druids they were coming. Aytheur watched the bustle, an out of place island in the activity of this goblin household. They turned to his instruction, but gave him no consideration.
The last of the sun's light faded from the horizon; somewhere, back that way, stood Belliea and the life he'd run from. The city elves had no place for the orc-blood Elrodore. Even the other Elrodore, the gatherers of the deep forest, despised Aytheur because of his father. Clouds covered the moon and the stars, pushing in low like a smothering blanket. Having reached Bharrak, Aytheur realized he was less alone when in the desert.
Krina and Tyisch's torches stood off against the night as the little band made their slow way to the Druid's Grove. The road consisted of hard dirt, a thin path marked by wagon wheels of varied sizes. It stood slightly north of the city, in a dell below the crest of a wooded hill. No one talked. The feeling of a funeral procession dominated the short journey. Tyisch explained to passerbys, in short words, that they moved Nasch for treatment, not burial.
The inky night only grew worse when the road passed under the canopy outside the grove. Torch light cast flickering shadows, which seemed to Krina to dance with Ethian soldiers. The girl they'd sent ahead met them there.
“The Druid Jinkash is not here, he is away, but he said you are welcome. He's gone to draw up water for you, from the spring.”
The grove was marked by wooden doors, inlaid with green copper and gold in ivy patterns, set in a thick hedge. Even to Aytheur, the place felt old. The trees here, just outside, hung heavy with moss. Tyisch told the girl to return home, and thanked her with a coin.
An acolyte carrying two buckets on yoke greeted Tyisch. “whatever your orc needs, I'll supply if I can. M'lord Jinkash is out on pressing business, and I don't know when he will return. I'll take your weapons;”
Each of the goblins surrendered a short sword and knife, but Aytheur balked at the idea. “Give up my sword?* This is all I have to defend myself, and you'll set upon me the moment he's healed.”
“If you don't give it up, we'll set upon you now.” Krina growled.
“No iron is permitted inside the grove,” the acolyte explained, “it would disturb the grove. You must leave them here.”
Relutantly Aytheur gave up his sword. The long, thin elven blade didn't fit in the slots on the shelf because it was nearly twice the length of a goblin sword. The acolyte marveled at its craftsmanship, but had to lead it against the shelf.
Once inside, the forest changed utterly. Where outside the trees with oaks and hazels with dark bark, these were silver birches. Their white bark shone in the torch light. Lamps were not permitted here, but Aytheur decided not to complain about the light. They laid Nasch in the center of the grove, on a flat rock which sometimes served as an altar for the druids. Aytheur knelt over him, and, without explanation, closed his eyes to re-enter the blood-dancer's** trance.
*[I don't remember mentioning that he even had a weapon before, but it occurs to me that I'd like to highlight the difference between elven and goblin technology, so I think I'll write this in. It fits, seeing as he went to a military school before setting off to the wilderness. This edition of the work is about finishing the story, I'll repair plot holes and bad ideas on the third go.]
**[Yeah, I use a different word for this every day. Elves connect magic with music, so they call the life-magic they use on plants “singing.” Similarly, Aytheur thinks of orcish blood magic as dancing, although the term would be unusual.]