The priests at the Temple of Kanthara were happy to provide their services when Nikolao showed up. It seemed he was a regular patron, because they greeted him by name when he walked in. Nikolao handed a sack of gold to one of them and introduced his companions. The priests went through the usual, “you’re too generous” routine when counting out the money, but they seemed genuine and kind about it at least.

  As the priests led them back to another room where they would be healed, Nikolao asked to stay back for a moment, and Jarod noticed him kneel in front of a statue with reverence as the rest of the group left.

  The priests led them out of the main chapel where the public worshippers were gathered, through a set of wooden doors, and down a hallway to a back chamber. The hallway was adorned with artifacts Jarod supposed must carry some religious significance, and paintings of priests and paladins looking serene and stoic.

  The priest stopped before a set of open doors on their right. Behind the doors was a small stone chamber with a stone altar encircled on three sides by a pool of water. The sound of trickling water was coming from inside.

  “We’ll do each of your healings one at a time,” said the priest who had led them there. Jarod noticed for the first time that she clutched a holy symbol in her hand: a gold rhombus encircled by a ring of lapis lazuli. “Each of you should only take a couple minutes.”

  Another pair of priests, a man and a woman, came up behind their group, and joined the third by the doors. The first priest pointed at Jarod and beckoned him inside.

  Although the floor was made of simple stone, the walls of the room were lined with 5 bands of black tiles equally spaced running up the walls. Once he was inside, the priests shut the door, leaving only the sound of trickling water. Jarod looked around, but he couldn’t find the source.

  The first priest spoke to him again while waiting by the altar in the center of the room. “Strip off your clothes and lay down on the altar. You can leave them there, against the wall.”

  Jarod wasn’t shy about his body, especially after coming from the bathhouse with Filgrin, but was a little embarrassed to strip in front of two women. “Right now? Should I leave my undergarments on?”

  The priest cocked an eyebrow and a smirk played across her lips. “When else would I have you do it? I don’t mean half an hour later out on the streets. Now get on with it.”

  Jarod sheepishly stripped down and tried to fold his clothes in a neat pile, which he lay against the wall. He tried to cover himself as best he could as he walked over the altar, which the three priests were now gathered around, but found it impossible as he started to lay down, and decided to just commit to the indecency.

  The priests didn’t seem to take any mind of it. The first one adjusted his position on the altar slightly, setting his hands at his side, palms up, head laid back looking straight at the black tiles of the ceiling. Meanwhile, the other two had raised their hands above the edges of the altar, just slightly above parallel with the ground.

  After she was satisfied with his position, the priest who had placed him on the altar joined the other two with raised hands, still holding onto the symbol that he’d noticed earlier.

  The priests began chanting, and Jarod felt his vision start to grow hazy. He didn’t feel tired, but it was as if he was starting to nod off, eyelids drooping, only seeing the world in slow, unfocused blinks. A glow began to appear, first around the holy symbol, then around the priests, and finally filling the room with a golden glow.

  The glow seemed to push back the darkness from the dark tiles overhead, until he could finally see pipes begin to appear, as though the black tile were just a shadow burnt away from the magic glow. Jarod finally realized the source of the sound of the trickling water, as the pipes began to drip down, first around the edges of the room, splashing into the pool, and then closing in around the altar. The water dripped closer and closer, until he felt the first drop, ice cold against his skin. He felt his body instinctively try to flinch away from the freezing water, but he realized that it hadn’t actually moved.

  The altar itself was beginning to feel like ice, seeping up through the stone and into his body, freezing him in place. His breath caught in his chest, but he didn’t panic, for he felt the rejuvenation that came with the freezing sensation. He felt as old wounds in his shoulder and leg refused to be frozen, and in so doing, were boiled away, vanishing like steam up into the shadowy tile above.

  No longer frozen in his lungs, the breath he’d been holding was released, and he felt a tingling sensation begin to tremble its way down his body. The golden light was fading away, hiding the pipes behind black tile once more. As it did, he felt his body begin to thaw, little by little, as the tingling sensation left him, and he came to normalcy once more.

  Divine Healing

  Health: 10/10

  Fully restored

  A smile of euphoria came unbidden over Jarod’s face. He couldn’t remember ever feeling better in his life. Even the regular aches that he’d developed over the years, the twinge in his upper back and the dull throb in his shoulder when he moved it the wrong way, seemed to have gone away. Maybe he should have looked into this Kanthara earlier.

  “Wow, that’s some fantastic stuff you’ve got going on over here,” said Jarod as he sat up, still with a dopey grin on his face. “I was skeptical of the magic here in Chath, but if it’s all like this, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The priest holding the holy symbol smiled indulgently. “I assure you that not all magic is like ours. Divine magic can do many things which would be well beyond the reach of even an advanced user of other arcane means. Such is our speciality though. We could never hope to work on something as complex as a sentient being without the help of divinity.”

  Jarod walked over by the door to retrieve his clothes, the feeling of revitalization masking his shame entirely.

  “Go ahead and send the next person in,” said the priest. “And close the doors after you.”

  Jarod finished dressing, pushed open the wood doors, and found Filgrin and Basma waiting a little nervously outside.

  “Well you look happy with yerself,” said Filgrin. “Have a good time in there, did ya?”

  Jarod realized that he still had a dazed hint of his smile on his face, even as the euphoric effect was wearing off. “Yeah, never felt better,” he said. “Whoever’s next, they said to send on in.”

  Basma took the initiative, and allowed Jarod to close the doors after stepping into the chamber.

  “No Nikolao?” Jarod asked.

  “Nah, I reckon he’s still saying his prayers or whatever it is those worshipers do,” said Filgrin. “Hey, it didn’t hurt did it? I don’t have the best experience with gods and their fanatics.”

  “No, didn’t hurt at all. Felt a little… strange, but not in a bad way. And I feel great now.”

  “Aye, I can tell,” Filgrin said, but he seemed unconvinced. “Look, why don’t you grab Nikolao and send him down. With any luck, I’ll be out here in a couple o’ minutes.”

  Slowly coming back to his normal state of mind, but still feeling spry and youthful, Jarod nodded and walked back out the hallway that’d come down in.

  As he walked back through the hallway lined with religious artifacts, he thought back to how Nikolao had seemed so at ease in the temple, and had gone practically straight to an altar to kneel and pray. Jarod hadn’t taken the surveyor for a religious man, and he hadn’t exhibited any signs of it on their journey to Chath.

  Not that there was anything wrong with that. Jarod respected the work that the temple did, especially after Abigail had her leg healed. He just didn’t really understand the point to it all. If you could get the power of divinity and channel magic it was one thing, but all the rituals and praying seemed like it never amounted to anything.

  A voice calling his name snapped him out of his wondering.

  “Jarod!?”

  He glanced up. He’d made it back to the main cathedral in the temple, worshipers all around, kneeling in front of niches with religious iconography, saying their prayers to Kanthara. Nikolao was standing off to one side, talking to a woman in resplendent armor with a white and gold surcoat over the front.

  “Abigail!” Jarod said, surprised to see another face from Cleftshire after all this time. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just got back from the south, fighting some ghouls running around by Lake Farathed. Never mind that though, it’s good to see you.” Abigail pulled him in for a hug. She pulled him tight against her armor, and Jarod was reminded how strong and solidly-built she was.

  “I didn’t realize the two of you knew each other,” said Nikolao.

  “Course we do, we grew up together,” said Abigail. “I was always jealous that he got to work in the forge. He was a couple years older than me, and dad wouldn’t let me near any of that stuff till I was older. By then, I’d moved on to other things, but for a couple years, I used to stare into the blacksmith’s whenever I walked by, just wishing I could help with the fire.”

  “I take it you don’t have any blacksmith ambitions anymore?” Jarod asked.

  Abigail laughed. “No, I’ve got much more exciting things to do these days. After a few years of service for the temple, they finally let me become a paladin. That’s why I was down by Lake Farathed.”

  “That’s also the reason I was talking with her,” said Nikolao. “The church might respect the crown, but they aren’t strictly bound by his commands. As I was saying though, if we were to have a few paladins on the front lines against the Tildan Republic, it would be an enormous boon to our efforts.”

  “Abigail?” Basma’s voice came from behind Jarod, and he saw her walking up, looking refreshed herself now.

  “Hey Basma, how’s it goin’? Guess we’ve got everyone from Cleftshire in the temple today.”

  “We missed you last year. It looks like you’ve been keeping yourself busy though.” said Basma.

  “Yeah, might be keeping myself even more busy with this war I’m hearing about to the north.”

  “Wait,” said Jarod. “Did Nikolao tell you about what’s going on in Cleftshire?”

  “No, what’s going on out there?”

  Jarod explained the situation with the trifleys, describing how the town was being forced to relocate to Blackpool Outlook. Abigail’s eyes narrowed at the news, but she took it all in stride. It seemed like she was really a woman of the city at this point.

  “Can you do that same magic the priests were doing earlier?” Jarod asked. “If you have any

  healing ability, it would be really useful in our fight against the trifleys.”

  Abigail gave him a smirk. “Those priests don’t have nothin’ on the magic of a paladin. I could show you what I can do sometime. Don’t even need an altar for it.”

  “As for joining you at Blackpool Outlook though,” she said. “I’ll have to think about it. I’m sorry to hear about the problems y’all are having, but I have a lot of responsibilities with the temple now. I’ll give it some thought though, and check in with ya tomorrow. Right now I’ve gotta run.”

  She gave another wave, and without another word, was off, out through the temple doors.

  By that point, Filgrin had returned and sent Nikolao downstairs to get his own healing treatment. Jarod noticed Basma looking at him funny as they stood around in the temple.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” she said. “Are we still on to check out the Crafts District tomorrow?”

  “Of course, wouldn’t miss it.” Jarod smiled, but she still had an unreadable look on her face. He was looking forward to it, honestly. Now that he’d had a little time to get acquainted with the city, it didn’t seem quite as scary as before.

  His thoughts drifted to what was going on outside, over in Blackpool Outlook, and at the pair who had escaped from the Brigand’s lair earlier. The city might not scare him anymore, but those two were the ones that he wouldn’t be able to get out of his head.