They are an immortal, and they have the gift of a healing touch. Their goal is to heal any and all who are in need and find medicines to treat the sick. They do not wish for thank yous, just to know lives are saved. They meet Wraithvine and ask that they may travel with hir a while, in their quest to aid in saving lives. -- Anon Guest
Bibrid had been pushing on the last rock in his way for a hundred years. The crumbling mortar finally gave way and the stone tumbled free. At last. Enough room to clamber out of the ageing prison cell.
This was the fifth era that some ruling so-and-so decided that his gifts were meant to be exclusive. This one had learned that a Dragon could change to and from anthropic[1] forms, and therefore kept him trapped in a place he could not fly away from. Still appearing to be a silver-hued Gnome, he gave himself some plain clothing through illusion and set forth into a changed world.
He had to be very careful. Work without looking like he was working. Pass through the areas of anguish like a breeze. Never get spotted. Never be seen by the kind of people that could have Bibrid in someone's chains all over again.
It was in one village devastated by a plague that he met Wraithvine, also working on helping the sufferers. Bibrid was doing the apparent job of water-bearer. Taking drinks to the sufferers and adding a little healing magic to his care.
Wraithvine was doing far more than that. Ze was making potions, creating salves, crafting food that was more nutritious than normal and setting up magical means by which to keep the fields abundant, the animals fed, and the infrastructure running.
Bibrid hid when he heard armed soldiers approaching. Soldiers meant nobles, and nobles meant the potential for exclusivity in his future. No hiding place seemed proper, and he finally found a place halfway up a chimney long since cold and neglected.
He was used to small spaces lined with stone. The only difference here and now was that there was a way back out of it. He didn't know when he would be safe to emerge. He didn't know if he'd been seen. He didn't know if Wraithvine was going to innocently mention Bibrid to someone important.
People were sick. People needed him. People could be dying... but if he let himself make one mistake... it was back to the chains and looking after some rich asshole's gout and nothing else.
He was shuddering and crying when Wraithvine found him.
"I take it you've encountered too many of the wrong kind of kings," said the immortal Elf. "It's all right. I'm alone."
Wraithvine had never lied to him. It was still an effort of will to come down as far as the fireplace.
"You know about the wrong kinds of kings," he said.
"I've spent more than my fair share of time in oubliettes," said Wraithvine. I know the look. I also know a Dragon in disguise when I see one."
Bibrid's gaze darted towards the doorway. No other people. "You know how to avoid the wrong sorts of kings. Or at least escape them."
"Sometimes, I end them," said Wraithvine. "I try not to."
"I want to learn how to do that. Please. I have had enough of dungeons and chains."
"I will teach you everything I can," swore Wraithvine. "And keep you safe from the wrong kings."
It was a deal.
[Photo by Danielle Hammond on Unsplash]
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[1] Any other fiction might say humanoid.