Healer Caitlyn waited with her lover and colleague Healer Idan as he waited outside his daughter's room. Caitlyn had known Idan had a niece, even though he never saw her, he spoke of her and his sister her mother often. She had gathered the gist of the almost tale like story in the chaos that ensued when Idan had seized the girl's own, personal horse, suddenly there and willing to help , and pounded up to the Healer's Collegium with her in his arms, her blood staining his greens. Greens he was still wearing, unnoticed, as he waited before the half-open door.
The girl had been riding her first race in employment as a jockey, when her mount had tripped on some bad ground, she fell of the still galloping horse onto the track, where her father, acting track Healer, had found her, running out to treat an injury that carried a grim prognosis in the best of times.
Ah, the lot of the Healer. Waiting for the next bloody, mangled wreck to come in the door, not knowing who it is, and praying that it's no one you know.
Acting under extreme emotional duress, Idan still had managed to follow his training and save his niece's life. Now she was in the hands of the best, and only the gods would decide whether she would live or not.
Idan slumped in his seat, exhausted from the strenuous day and extensive Healing he had done. Caitlyn slipped her arm around his shoulders, knowing only too well that if family was in Healers, you could not leave, not for patients, fire, or flood. Her own brother, Herald-Mage Trainee Darvon had been in one of those rooms several times.
The door, already slightly ajar, swung open under the hand of one of the Healers in the room. He looked haggard and worn, as did the younger woman who still stood by the cot in a healing trance.
"She'll make it. Be damned if I know how or why, but she'll live. The protection she was wearing saved her life." He held open the door. "You can come in now. We've got painblocks on her, since her injuries were so severe, and she's pretty well sedated for Leslie's Healing, so don't be surprised if she doesn't respond."
Idan nodded as he went in, not trusting his voice to speak as he hurried to Jule's side. The Healer, Leslie, kneeled on the floor with her eyes closed as she exercised her gift to repair her patient's broken body and save her life in the process.
Though well-sedated and nearly asleep, as promised, Julia sighed, not with pain, but relief and relaxation as the Healer did her work.
Leslie finally stood up, wincing a little from the pain of kneeling on the wood floor.
"Gods, I feel like hell. You can talk to her now, while I go try not to pass out."
The older Healer supported and scolded her at the same time as he led her to a bench.
"You know better than to exhaust yourself like that!"
Leslie gave a weak smile.
"As if you wouldn't do the same." Leslie said dryly, then quietly fainted on the bench.
Bertrick sighed as he laid his pupil and niece down on the padded seat. "She always does this," He muttered to himself. "Honestly. If she wasn't so sensible away from her patients, she could be a Herald."
Caitlyn came up to him as he positioned his niece comfortably on the seat.
"The girl-what are her chances?"
Bertrick spoke gruffly, not looking up. "I don't know. No one does. We have to wait until she wakes."
"She'll never ride a race again. Ride- maybe. Her spine cracked slightly, and she pinched a nerve and damaged several others. She passed out, and we haven't had a chance to evaluate her head. Again, we have to wait and see. She could be paralyzed from the waist down; she could have dazzle headaches for the rest of her life; but she could wake and be fine, aside from her arm, wrist, and back."
"So we wait."
Bertrick nodded. "So we wait."
Jule floated in a black haze of pain, wondering why she wasn't dead. Or was she? The Havens didn't have pain, right?
The race's last moments kept replaying themselves over and over in her head as she distantly realized that she was being jolted about on horseback, in someone's arms, as the person rode headlong for a destination she knew not.
Her fall, the sickening Crack! of her bones, the jolt to her head that stunned her, and the heavy hoofbeats of racehorses galloping for home on the backstretch. By some miracle only one heavy hoof had landed on her prone back, and only for a second.
Finally the confusing blur of color and sound died away, along with feeling. But the images remained. She cringed from them as she had never shied from anything, mentally screaming for something, anything, to please take it away!
As if she had wished it, warm verdant green ribbons threaded with gold pierced the dark and healing the places that were agony, spreading warmth and healing in their wake. She reveled in them, sighing with relief, until the presence of peace and lack of vision lulled her to true sleep.