Deep confliction

Miquella makes his way towards the guild of light from the tavern. The supposed human blankly walks to the outer ward where he stops and looks briefly behind him. “Outer Ward down” the shimmering wall lowers has he steps across the threshold into the sitting area of the guild. Faint cries and groans come from all around as the infirmary has become overran with the injured from the most recent attack. “Outer Ward up” he walks past the resurrection circle and to the inner ward to the inner sanctum where he disappears briefly to return with a beautiful staff, a gold lion necklace, a gem covered focus, and runes that adorn his skin showing his half-celestial lineage. “I must do something.” He says shaking slightly.

He walks past the guild volunteers and into the infirmary where carnage sets. There were more injured than beds, so some patients who were able had to be placed on the floor. Miquella observes the room has he sees citizens who have deep wounds from sharp blades, lost limbs, and who are merely unconscious from the pain. ‘Healing magic is normally used on the soldiers and nobles. I am tired of the suffering. I am tired of being shown as weak.’ He says in his head as he makes his way to a man as young as 17. I recall when he was brought in. His name is Vespin. He lost his eye, and was beaten to an inch of his life by the attackers for protecting his youngest sister. His sister hasn’t left his side since she drug him to the guild. He hasn’t awaked since the attack as he hangs on to life. The young girl looks up at me while I stand over his body. I kneel down by his side and place my hand on his chest, “Listen Quinn. I am going to help your brother. I am going to help everyone here.” Her eyes widen for a moment then look in confusion as to what I was about to do. With his hand placed on the young boys chest. Miquella speaks an incantation for his lips, “I call upon the ancient arts to heal your wounds.” The bruises begin to leave his body, and his eye begins to heal. A moment later Vespin’s eye opens as he brings to speak. Before words leave his lips Miquella silences him, “Rest, you’ve been through enough. When your ready there is food in main chamber. Take your sister and get something to eat.” The boy nods in acknowledgment as the young girl hugs him tightly in relief. The boy who hasn’t moved in days takes his first steps; however, the scar of the assault will always be present in his lost eye.

Miquella then moves to a volunteer, “I need your assistance.” The women in a white apron looks to him puzzled. “Yes? How may I help?” Miquella looks around the room and takes a moment to assess the situation. “We need to move the critical next to one another. I am going to use as much magic as possible to heal as many people as I can. Can you help me move them?” He looks to the volunteer, she simply smiles at his order, “That is very kind of you Miquella.” The two start to move the citizens next to one another. They group them up in severity of injury. After about thirty minutes of rearranging the beds and injured Miquella takes his staff and necklace and holds them tight. He closed his eyes and whispers to himself, “Please I need guidance. I am conflicted in my resolve. My understanding of my purpose is not as it once was.” He opens them again and moves to the most injured. As they lay motionless on their bed he stands in the middle of them. Within five feet he is surrounded by multiple bodies whose only movement is the faint breath that leaves their lungs. Miquella raises his right hand above his head as he closes his eyes. A slight tear runs down his cheek. “The healing rays of light shine upon us.” As the last syllable leaves his lips a small orb of light forms over his finger that is pointed in the air. Rays extend from the orb in a five foot radius healing the injured around him. The wounds they suffered close; however, any lost limbs remain. After a few seconds their eyes open has they take a deep breath without pain. They look upon the half-celestial has he turns and walks to the next group. Spell after spell, rays of light and orbs of energy leave Miquella’s hands has he heals the injured and sick. For the first time since the attack some of these people are not crying due to pain. Miquella looks around the room to see if there is any more injured.

As Miquella looks around to see if there is any more injured. The citizens that were in the infirmary began to be escorted by the volunteers to the main hall where they begin to eat food made for them. Eventually Miquella is alone. There are those who are damaged beyond the physical mean. They have lost their families.

Miquella walks through the crowd of people his eyes are heavy from the use of magic that left his body, and his items dim from the magic used. He doesn’t say a word to a single person as he makes his way to the inner sanctum. “Inner ward down.”
He crosses the thresholds “Inner ward up.” He makes his way back to the roof of the guild of light. Where there is cool air from the night sky. He collapses down on the roof with his back against the wall. His staff lays by his side as he is exhausted. Tears begin to form on his face, “Learia” he says in a hushed tone. “I am sorry. I feel that I failed in protecting those around me. I am conflicted...I am so angry. I want to see those who caused all this pain suffer. I know I shouldn’t but I wish to see them in pain. I want to see them hurt, but everytime I think of it. I break. I’ve always tried my best to seek redemption in those who need it, but I just can’t seek redemption in them. I know the path of light is one based on forgiveness, or that is what I understood. It’s just what they did to Rachelle, and the citizens of this city…it broke me. I don’t know what to do. I know you may not be able to help me, and I understand if not. I just need somthing. I am terrified I will go down the wrong path and I won’t be able to return from it.” He then places his head in his arms as they rest on his knees. Tears begin to fall and the once dry stone becomes wet from the half-celestial.