| I've written this as a fanfic but if anyone happens to see it and wishes to intervene at a later date, do let me know and we can set something up. |
It was a cold morning at the Grey Tower. Frost smothered the outdoors, hugging the ground, the trees, the walls, as if it could find some warmth if it held on for long enough. The long shadows cast by the Grey Tower itself ensured that the cold lingered, whilst sunlight elsewhere hit the ice and melted it away as if it was never there. It would come back in the night, persistent and unrelenting.
It was in these dark shadows that Murdock lurked. The day was cloudy, and the cold pinched at his exposed skin, but he was more focussed on the task at hand than how the cold made him feel. Channelling unsupervised was forbidden but he had no intention of letting his training wait as he followed a rule which would only hold him back. How was he supposed to practice his Healing if he didn’t have free time to train? The Infirmary could only offer him so much practice time and it got tiring to have an Asha’man peering over his shoulder all the time. No, Murdock was going to do this his way. Following the rules was what got Giselle murdered in the first place (“Killed” felt like such an unsuitable word, after the fact).
There was nowhere one could truly hide in the Grey Tower but in the corners of the gardens, in the dark behind some of the broader trees, it was possible to escape notice for a short time. Not many wanted to venture out in this weather, only those who were slightly mad like Murdock, and if he got caught then he would simply have to accept the punishment and move on. The Far Madding man had a strong back and a tough upper lip, he could deal with the consequences of his own behaviour. Right then Murdock sat leaning against the trunk of a sturdy tree void of leaves but layered in frost still. He could feel the cold on his back but he ignored it as he watched the skies, waiting for his target.
There. A bird of some sort, he was no expert on winged rats, flitting from tree to tree. A winter bird by the looks of it. Giselle would have probably tried to feed it. There, Saidin appeared alongside thoughts of his dearly departed wife, and Murdock grabbed onto it to weave a thread of Air. Now, the man was no expert at splitting his weaves – he was no multitasker and it seemed he would never be able to weaves two threads at the same time – but he managed a weave of Air to snag the bird out of the air and deliver it to his seat on the ground. “Aha. Hello there little bird,” Murdock’s voice was soft as he looked down at the writhing creature held in his Saidin-wrought grasp, “don’t worry, I’m going to make you all better.” He could see the bird’s wing was damaged, Giselle would have felt ever so sorry for it. Sure, he had caused the damage but it was better to practice on animals than on humans, and it was a small price to pay for him to master his craft. Murdock was going to become better at Healing, and he was going to work out how to manipulate Healing weaves to do what he wanted, even when what he wanted was to destroy a man within touching range without lifting a weapon. “You’ll be as right as rain soon, I promise.”
Carefully he weaved Fire, Earth and Spirit, preparing the weave as he learned in Asha’man Gareth’s lessons. A perfect Healing weave if he said so himself, simple and effective in fixing everything that was wrong in a person’s body, at least up to a point. This bird had an injured wing from its sudden pull out of the air, but that would right itself and-
The weave settled into the bird, which shuddered and let out a loud chirp of dismay, before it lay very, very still.
Murdock looked down at the bird, his dark eyes widening as he released Saidin against his will. He was so distracted by the bird that Giselle was gone from his mind, at least in that moment, and that was enough for him to be cut off from the source. What in the Light...? That was a fine weave, how could that not work on the bird? He looked down, perplexed and going through his lessons. Animals couldn’t be that different to people.
Healing takes strength from the person being Healed. If they are too weak, a powerful enough Heal could be enough to kill them. Death by Healing. The thought was not new; Murdock had mused over this in his lessons. And now he was facing the direct results of overhealing. It stood to reason that the bird was not equipped to deal with as much stress as a human, so his weave was... incorrect?
... Inadequate?
“Light burn you, you stupid bird,” Murdock growled down at the deceased creature. “You were supposed to be Healed. You were supposed to let me help you! He took the bird up in his hands so he could get a better look at the animal that would have lived, had it not been for him. Murdock was supposed to be a provider and a caregiver, and he thought he had been for years as he helped raise his family. Oh, Giselle was the head of the house and he knew his place, but Murdock loved his wife and daughters, and always looked out for them. Ever since he was taken to the Black Tower, the people he cared for and was supposed to help, only seemed to be worse off for being close to him.
“You were never supposed to get caught up in this,” he told the unhearing bird in a low voice. “I never meant to hurt you so badly.” Giselle would have been better off having never met Murdock, Giselle and now this bird.
Forget trying to practice his Healing. Murdock seized Saidin once more, long enough to scoop out some earth in order to bury the bird in. He set it down in its new grave carefully, looking down at it from where he was now kneeling on the cold grass and leaning forwards as if in prayer over this makeshift tomb. I couldn’t save you Giselle, and I couldn’t save this bird either. If I can’t put people together, then I am going to learn how to take them apart before they can hurt anyone else. The man exhaled and then with a cupped hand, spread the dirt back over the grave to cover the bird. “I love you Giselle.”
