Chapter 6: Lessons, warnings, and surprises

sssssttt ouuuuu that burns, yeah that burns” Valor was laying prone on a stone shelf that had been padded for comfort. Standing over top of Valor was an older man who was gripping the boy’s right arm tightly.

  “My apologies, Valor I’m only doing what I must.”

  The man was clothed from the waist down, his upper body completely bare. His body was a canvas of ink from head to toe, lines and dots intersected and stretched across his skin. They were like the constellations he would often see back home. A long-braided beard extended down to the man’s sternum, it’s faded black colour almost blended into the sun darkened skin and tattoos.

  “Your hands are so rough,” Valor gritted his teeth and glared at the iron grip on his arm, “it’s like two sand gloves.”

  The inked man smiled, his lines around his eyes crinkling from many years spent squinting under the sun.

  “Must be something to do with the miles of sand surrounding us.”

  Valor rolled his eyes mockingly; he liked the older man. His father had told stories of the desert healers, the Slánachadh, renowned across Kypeera for their mastery in galden.

  “Is there a reason Diargo isn’t here? Or are there Slánachdh who are trained for animals.”

  The man clicked his tongue at the mention of the ape, “A beast that size requires a great deal of healers, all beasts for that matter. Though it doesn’t seem to matter that much, Beasts are blessed by galden, they possess a healing prowess that could rival the Slánachadh.” The man smiled ruefully. “We keep the riders separate in these med caves, it’s a little more… intimate.”

  After a couple hours the man had healed four broken ribs, a fractured femur, and the tear in his left shoulder. All that was left was the broken arm.

  “Almost done” the man assured him, noticing the jaw clenched in pain.

  “Man, this one hurts like hell.”

  The man’s grip was like steel shackles on Valor’s broken arm, the star’s tattooed across his fingers were bulging from the added pressure. “That’s because you’re getting tired”

  “I’m getting tired?” Valor crunched his eyebrows down in confusion, “I’m not doing anything.”

  Glancing up from his work, the man’s black eyes glinted in the unnatural glow of the cavern lights, “Oh but you are, in fact you’re practically doing it all” The man chuckled, “My galden is simply a guide for your own, teaching it and manipulating it so that it can mend the wounds inflicted on your body.”

  “How is that possible? I don’t have access to any healing abilities, I would have figured that out by now.”

“Allow me to elaborate.”

  The iron grip was released, and he sighed in relief, glancing down at the bruises made from the man’s fingers.

“Our ancestors have roamed the Kypeeran deserts for many, many generations. My people would follow the stars and claim that it directed them to those who needed healing.” The healer held his hands in front of his face, a lost expression on his face as he gazed at the ink that spanned across his palms. “In a similar way my galden directs yours to your own wounds and teaches it how to mend.”

Valor stared in wonder at the old man standing in front of him. He let his eyes wander, underneath the ink the skin was knotted and scarred. But the scars were hidden masked by the beauty of the ink, and he even spotted the very first constellation his father taught him, vipers a ‘bualadh.

   The healer grinned in pride, “In order to be great healers, we must know how to mend all wounds. It is customary that these healings are done on our own bodies. This ink is a symbol of my dedication to guide and to follow.

   As he was speaking the man twisted his arms and torso to show off the ink that spanned his body. The scars were just barely visible if one were to squint and peer closely at the skin. It seemed as if every inch of the healer was covered in ink, a dedication to his craft indeed.

“What’s your name?”

   The man tilted his head and the braided beard waved faintly under his chin, “ Grishuk”

Valor narrowed his eyes. There was nothing familiar about the man, but he recognized the name nonetheless. He watched the man walk over to the other side of the cave but frowned when he failed to recall the reason why he knew the name.

“Grishuk, If your galden is just a guide, does that mean it’s possible to heal without you? I mean, why doesn’t everyone learn.”

The man bent over to wash his hands in the shallow divot in the cave wall, its water was constantly cycling, perfect for washing out dirt and blood.

“Most people are lazy, it takes much less concentration when a healer is in control,” the man dried his hands on a cloth and peered curiously at him, “And I would say almost every Rider here… doesn’t know they can do it.”

Valor only raised his eyebrows, and Grishuk continued.

“Most people are in so much pain during the healing process because their galden is working harder than they have ever experienced.” He made a cycling motion with his hands as he spoke. “They’re unable to comprehend that their own body is inflicting that much pain, it creates an illusion that we’re the ones doing it.”

Valor nodded slowly, if he could master that ability it would offer an extreme advantage.

Grishuk cracked a smile, “Don’t get any ideas, you still need me.”

“How’d you know that’s what I was thinking?” Valor grinned sheepishly.

With a thoughtful gaze Grishuk ran a rough hand down his braided beard. “Your father had the same idea; he was convinced he could teach himself to heal without the Slánachadh”. He shook his head and chuckled, “I tried not to take it personally, I mean he was- ”

“You knew my father!”

The old man looked at him in surprise, “Well of course, I requested to work with you as soon as you entered the arena, I’ve been waiting for years.”

Valor’s eyes widened in surprise realizing who the man was in front of him. “Grishy?”

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The old man tossed his head back and laughed, his beard shaking. “Wow, I used to hate that”

Valor shook his head in amazement, “I always heard the stories, but I didn’t realize you were Slánachadh.”

He threw Valor’s shirt at him from a small ledge. “I was your father’s personal healer, I travelled with him everywhere.”

Valor stood up to stretch his legs but reached out to healer for support when he faltered, his muscles were stiff and sore. He grimaced through the pain and pulled his shirt over his head. “Wow okay, so does that mean you’ll be mine?”

Grishuk sighed, “I promised your father that I would, but over the past couple of years the race laws have changed.” The man rubbed his bald head dejectedly. “I will do everything I can to try, but personal healers are not a luxury given to the lower ranks.”

Valor was disappointed, but he could tell Grishuk was equally upset, if not more. He shrugged his shoulders in indifference, hoping to lift the spirits of his new friend.

“I’m sure my father would understand. Once I climb the ladder I’ll come back.”

Grishuk smiled at the young man, admiring the confidence. A sad look crossed his face the man rested a hand his shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss, son.”

Valor swallowed hard and returned Grishuk’s sad smile, “Me too.”

“Excuse me, Valor knight?”

The new voice tore Valor from his grievance, he turned around and saw an arena enforcer standing in the cave entrance. He was a tall, imposing figure, wrapped from head to toe, in hardened leather armour. He carried a long spear in one hand, and a paper in the either.

“That chairman has requested a meeting. I’m to escort you there immediately.”

Valor raised his eyebrows, the chairman of the Kypeeran region was an important figure. The idea of a personal meeting was both intriguing and rather nerve wracking. Perhaps it was about his professionalization. He brightened at the thought and flashed the enforcer a smile.

“Absolutely, just give me one moment.”

He turned to give Grishuk a farewell but frowned when he caught the look of dismay on the old man’s face.

“Valor there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” He said in a hushed and hurried tone. “I had hoped you would at least have the night to recover and heed my warning but it appears we’re not so lucky.”

The man gripped his arm tightly, and he found himself drawn into the wide-eyed look of apprehension. He leaned forward to catch the harsh whispers.

“Do not trust the chairman, he will only lead you down a path of corruption and greed.” The old man traced a finger down the constellation under his sternum, “He is a false star.”

Valor studied the man’s face, “I don’t understand, why would I trust the chairman.”

The enforcer behind them coughed loudly and gave them a pointed look.

Grishuk squeezed his arm once, “You’ll see, good luck my boy.”

It was clear from the tight-lipped expression that he wouldn’t get anymore information out of the healer, so he let his feet drag him out of the cave and after the enforcer. He replayed Grishuk’s words in his head as they traveled through the endless catacombs. Wondering what the old man could have possibly meant. He couldn’t help but scoff at the warning, if the chairman wasn’t to be trusted that he would know it, especially one that was capable to shake up Grishuk. Nonetheless, the warning was ominous and he found himself dwelling on dark thoughts as he followed the enforcer. Multiple times he found himself in a large cavern or opening that was packed with the bustling of busy people, everyone in some great hurry to get to their destination, travelling in every possible direction. If it wasn’t for the enforcer’s tall spear poking above the crowd, Valor would have been swept away. At last the enforcer stopped and Valor found himself standing in a large cavern, the far edge of it populated with men all dressed similar to his guide.

“I thought Diargo was meeting us here.” His voice sounded strange, echoing off the walls of the cave.

The arena enforcer looked at Valor with an uncomfortable frown. “Racers are not permitted beyond the training grounds and lounge.”

“They’re not permitted?” He could have laughed out loud, “Well that’s kind of stupid don’t you think? Without them none of this exists.”

“It was the chairman’s idea,” The enforce gave him a sheepish look and shrugged, “Changes have been made, he has a… distaste for them.”

“A distaste…” He swallowed his sudden frustration, and gave him an incredulous look, “They’re not just animals.”

The enforcer shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clearly in agreement with Valor. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do about your mount, but I can direct you to him when your meeting is finished.”

Valor himself felt a crushing disappointment in his chest, was this what Grishuk had warned him about? It was unnatural and against tradition to deny a racer any right that would be provided for a rider. He had been schooled from a young age on how important it was to maintain the equality between human and beast.

He shook his head and sighed, “No, it’s alright you clearly don’t make the rules, thank you for the escort.”

The enforcer pursed his lips and nodded solemnly, “I’m sure your mount is okay.”

Valor raised his eyebrows and couldn’t help a small chuckle, “It’s not him I’m worried about.”

The enforcer dipped his head and motioned towards the door. It was massive and made entirely of wood. It had been carved to match the mouth of the cave perfectly, with edges so smooth wood and stone seemed to meld together. Valor walked up to it and gave it a small push. Without a sound it opened, swinging forward effortlessly. Immediately he noticed a difference in the chairman’s room. The stone walls had been decorated with various tapestries. The Slánacadh’s clan emblem was recognizable on one of them. The rest of the tapestries were decorated in similar emblems and symbols. A thick woven rug was draped across the floor. Placed in the middle of the room, was large wooden desk stained dark red. Behind the desk sat a man of medium build and long grey hair. His shoulders were broad, though any muscle definition that used to be there was gone, replaced with a layer of fat. The man noticed Valor’s presence and stood up immediately, a broad smile plastered on his face.

“My boy! It’s good to see you.”

Valor stood frozen, shocked to see the man he now recognized, standing in front of him. A man that had watched him grow, a role model, a friend, his father’s brother.

“Uncle Cam?”

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