Vira carefully folded the garment and packed it in her pack filled with the rest of her possessions. It was not much; a few garments, camping utensils and a fast depleting supply of herbs and poultices. Life at the border was difficult as a traveling healer and the land sparse. She would have to travel inland soon to restock her supplies, a thought that both excited her and distressed her at the same time. Leaving a town was always hard after a prolonged stay, one grew attached to the people and one's patients, but there were always more patients and it was her duty to find them.

Surveying the room to see if she had forgotten anything, Vira swung her backpack over her shoulders and reached for her saddlebag. A long scream made her jump, her fingers hovering midair. A familiar roar followed and then many screams as panic spread. Vira ran to the window, rising to her toes to see beyond her small viewpoint.

"Not again!" she muttered, dropping her pack, extracting her healing kit and running out of her room.

Outside the town's men had the massive beast cornered in an alley, their woman folk their onlookers behind windowpanes. Vira kept her distance, her skills not called for yet. The men held a variety of weapons: pitchforks, eating knives, hunting bows and hammers. None were soldiers, but artisans, traders and farmers.

Not for the first time did Vira curse the King for not stepping in, and because she felt like it she included the guardians and their warriors too. What purpose did any of them serve if not to protect the innocent? No one could if they wouldn't.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. Half a dozen goblins crept towards the villagers, short swords raised with ugly sneers of malicious intent. Before she could think of a better plan, she screamed and ran forward to warn the helpless men. Out in the open, vulnerable and exposed, she wished she had thought of a plan. Her courage fled, her feet froze and the hairs at the back of her neck rose to attention as the goblins regarded her.

One of the goblins licked its lips, its yellow tongue sliding over sharpened teeth. She held its gaze, afraid to look away and afraid not to. She retraced her steps, slowly unsure of a different path besides for retreat. The goblin sneered, its teeth glinting in the sunlight. It hand't finished two steps when an arrow struck it in the throat with a sickening sound. Dark green blood fountained out both the entrance and the exit wound causing the goblin to panic and scream.

Vira turned and ran to the nearest door. The sound of battle at her heels. Her hands fumbled at the knob, sweat making it difficult to grasp. She heard a vicious snarl at her back, too close for comfort. Turning she saw a goblin limping towards her. Her fingers found strength and frantically turned the doorknob.

Locked.

Panic gurgled in her stomach and jumbled her thoughts. She had often heard men speak of a flash of memories before one's final moments, but if these were to be her final moments her only thoughts were jumbled and unclear. No memories flashed before her eyes.

The Goblin raised its armoured arm, he would be at her side in two more strides; his arm within striking range. The curved sword flashed as it was raised and whistled in its descent. Time slowed as Vira watched the blade approach and in that moment she wondered if death would hurt. If her last feeling of life would be pain? She closed her eyes, accepting her fate and cursing it at the same time. She had so much more she wished to do in her life.

She felt nothing.

She stood for a couple more moments before opening her eyes. A cloaked stood above the felled goblin, dark green blood staining the dirt as it seeped from a stomach and throat wound. The figure was looking at her, staring at her as she stared at the dead goblin.

He said something. The words were unclear, all she heard was a warm, deep baritone that shook the ground she stood on. Her head felt light, as if it wished to fly away and for a moment she was sure the ground was rising up towards the sky. Strong fingers grasped her forearm and shook her once. The world snapped back and her head's wings disappeared.

"Are you alright?" he repeated, and this time the ground did not shake.

Vira nodded awkwardly, her chin drove the movement but once her forehead caught up, she could not tell if she had nodded or shook her head. The man reached over her shoulder to try open the door and cursed, but a moment later the door swung open. She stared at it in disbelief.

"Get in and stay there." He pushed her in and closed it after her.

The air rang with absence. The violence outside sounding like a distant battle beyond the horizon.

She stood listening to the dying screams of men and goblins. Her pack a leaden weight on her shoulders. She had almost died. Sinking to the ground Vira hugged her knees to her chest and prayed for the souls of those that fought.

It was a short lived fight. The screams and roars soon disappeared, leaving a waves of silence in its wake. Vira waited. For what she did not know, but it seemed a smart decision to wait. To be sure no lingering danger would spring a trap.

Deciding it was safe enough, she crept to the door and opened it, peaking out. Bodies sprawled along the town's dirt streets; some men, mostly goblins. The stench of death permeating the air.

Swallowing hard, she gathered her wits, gave herself a quick pep talk and left her hiding place. Some of the women helped carry the injured away from the dead, others wept over lost loved ones. Vira dropped to her knees next to the first moaning man she saw. She worked quickly; cleaning the wound and stitching up broken skin with skilled hands. She then bandaged the wound tightly before moving on to her next patient.

As usual the world fell away, nothing else mattered but mending that which had been torn and snapped. Speed was essential, but so was precision and care. It took all of her concentration to be swift and efficient. Mentors had told her she works as if sleepwalking, and perhaps they were right. On occassion she would 'wake' from her work and not remember who she had treated or how. All she knew was her hands ached, her apron was bloody and her eyes stung with tears.

Today was no different until she came upon an unconscious man whose arm looked barely attached and whose stomach lay spilt on the ground. It was a severe wound and not one recovered from. The man's relative knelt at his side, praying it seemed.

Vira couldn't fix the arm, the most she could do was amputate it to ease his pain, but there was no points since his stomach injury would kill him before she had even cleaned the wound. She knelt as the relative placed his palm on the dying man's forehead.

"We cannot save him," she said sadly to the younger man. His dark garments were bloodied, his hair and face were smeared in dirt and blood. His eyes were closed as he prayed. She waited, not wanting to leave him at such a difficult moment, but knowing there were others who needed her more.

She was about to get up when she noticed the man's stomach. Blood no longer streamed out and she was certain the skin was...

"Impossible."

She gaped at the relative, sweat covered his forehead and the look of concentration that he had worn moments before was now replaced with that of pain.

Vira looked down at the patient again. His arm was almost healed and no longer in need of amputation and his stomach was no longer lying on the ground. The young man stirred and took a long deep breath in. She stared at him slack-jawed.

"What–?" she stammered.

His light blue eyes shone as if he suffered from a fever and there was a slight hint of annoyance in his lips. "I think you can handle it from here, healer." Her jaw dropped further. She recognized the man's voice instantly. Without his long black cape covering his face she had not recognized him.

He left in a sweep of cape and upturned dirt. Vira stared after him.

The old man on the ground stirred, moaning in agony.

"There, there," she said, all thoughts of the mysterious man fleeing her immediate concern. "Hold still.

Her day was filled withe seeing to the wounded, and following up on the treated patients. Her back ached and her fingers felt raw, but Vira felt content and fulfilled with their progress. Despite trying to convince herself she wasn't searching for him, Vira kept her eyes open for the stranger and his dark cloak. Returning to the inn, she even found herself asking if a new visitor had checked in that day, but sadly the innkeep shook his head no.

"I thought you were leaving today, Healer Vira?" the innkeep asked as she alighted the first step to her room.

"It's too late and I am far too tired," she smiled sleepily. "If it is alright by you, I think I may stay one more night."

"Stay as long as you like, deary. After today we may be needing you for a few days yet. Who knows what tomorrow will bring."

"Gods protect us," she muttered before she could stop herself. She had prayed far to often today and she did not feel like the Gods deserved it.

"Aye, let us hope they will."