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TWL Chapter 281: Svanrige’s Last Breath
🕑 Added 2024-12-30 22:04:13 +0000 UTCLann smiled as he assured the old druid that he would keep his promise. He then began to ask about the possible identity of the traitor druid and how they could find him.
Gremist took a moment to ponder deeply. “Druids don’t usually stay in one place for long. Even scholars are constantly traveling around the continent, so finding the traitor accurately won’t be easy.” He explained.
"However, someone willing to join those barbarians of the Svalblod cult would surely have shown signs in their daily behavior long before this point. Not to mention that they even captured our apprentices..."
After a moment's thought, Gremist decided that they needed more help. "I must consult with some of the elders who usually retreat to the Inner Circle of Druids. Perhaps they can guide us."
"This will take some time, so you'll have to be patient and wait a bit."
Lann smiled and nodded.
"During this waiting period, I think you can go visit King Bran. You should be relatives, right?" Gremist suddenly suggested. "He's in a little trouble... no, it should be said that it's a big trouble."
...
After not seeing each other for a few days, when King Bran appeared in front of Lann again, he was visibly haggard.
The once majestic and strong King of the Isles has now lost weight, and his cheeks are deeply sunken; the well-maintained beard is now dirty and messy, showing the owner's poor physical condition.
Bran did not notice Lann's arrival. All his attention was focused on the bed where his son lay dying.
The young man lay on an oak bed, on a mattress made of woven mistletoe and holly leaves. The air was filled with the scent of herbs unknown to Lann.
Four candles surrounded Svanrige, while a druid stood at his bedside, speaking unintelligible words. As soon as Lann crossed the threshold of the room, he felt the griffin medallion on his chest vibrate slightly.
The druid was performing his healing magic, and it was clear that this was not the first time. However, despite all efforts, Svanrige's condition had worsened since the giant bear's attack. Now, he was barely distinguishable between a corpse and a living being, sustained only by the weak breath that managed to escape from his lips.
Curiously, although his son was on the verge of death, only King Bran was in the room. His wife, Birna, was nowhere to be found.
Lann looked around and had some guesses in his mind.
There were some druid apprentices in the room helping out. They were explaining Svanrige's situation to Eist.
Lann approached slowly, and the apprentices greeted him with a slight nod and continued their explanation: "Svanrige is on the brink of death. We've done everything we can, but our magic can only keep him alive for now."
These words made both Lann and Eist frown.
"Our power is for healing, not for reviving the dead. Svanrige's wounds are too severe." One of the apprentices added regretfully.
The apprentice sighed. "Svanrige was wearing a thick bearskin cloak at the time of the attack. This allowed him to cushion the impact enough so that he did not die instantly. But that was all, he still received a strong impact causing a strong crushing."
Eist gritted his teeth, unable to accept what he was hearing. He and his nephew shared a close bond.
"But he's still alive, isn't he? He's just injured. There has to be a way to save him." He pleaded in a trembling voice.
The apprentice lowered his head even further. “We have done everything in our power. Svanrige’s injuries are extreme… Just so you understand, when he arrived here he had even spat out small fragments of his lungs. You are an experienced warrior, you know what this means. Keeping him alive until now has been a miracle.”
Eist understood what those words implied. He took two steps back, staring into space, and would have almost fallen to the ground if Lann hadn't held him up.
All his joy at having defeated the Svalblod cult had completely disappeared.
King Bran and Eist, two of the most respected men in the islands, were dejected. Even the druid apprentices wore sad expressions at the sight of them in such a state.
"We have contacted the priestesses of the goddess Freya." Said one of the apprentices to try to comfort them.
"Although they do not have the means to cure him either, the High Priestess Sigrdrifa has been praying before the statue of the goddess for days. Perhaps a miracle will happen."
Placing hope in a miracle was the last resort for those in absolute despair.
And that was exactly the case for King Bran and Eist.
...
After a while, the druid who was performing the spell slowly opened his eyes. At that moment, the herbal scent in the room became so intense that it was almost unbearable.
In bed, Svanrige's pale face seemed to regain a slight blush, if only for an instant, as if it were an illusion.
Inside the room, the atmosphere was tense: Svanrige was on the verge of death, the druid showed a worried face, King Bran had a desolate expression, and Eist could do nothing but sigh.
Among them all, however, Lann stood out as a completely alien figure, both in his expression and his attitude.
In his mind he had already formed a plan. He glanced at King Bran but decided not to share his ideas with him directly. Instead, he silently approached Eist and led him to a secluded corner, where he began to speak in a low voice.
"Uncle, you have lived with my aunt for a long time. You surely know that our family carries a special power in its blood, right?"
Eist, still deep in worry, frowned at the comment. He didn't understand why his nephew decided to bring up this topic at a time like this. However, something in Lann's words made him think, and his face showed a mix of disbelief and hope.
“You mean… the Elder Blood?” Eist said, his tone doubtful. “If you mean that, yes, I know. She never awakened the power, but…” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Her rejection of that force was clear. I only knew of it through records and… from Pavetta.”
"Mousesack mentioned to me that you have fully awakened the power of the Elder Blood. That is why you have achieved incredible feats on the battlefield. But tell me, is it possible that this blood also has healing powers?"
Lann nodded, but then shook his head, choosing his words carefully.
"It's not exactly a healing power. It's more like... a kind of one-time rebirth. I can use it only once per person, but, when I do, no matter how serious the injury is, it will heal completely, even removing old or latent injuries." He explained.
Eist clung to his arm excitedly upon hearing that, ready to take him straight to Bran. "One time is enough!"
But Lann stopped him before he could say anything to the king.
Because Lann has no ability points.
Lann had not expected Svanrige's situation to be so dire. King Bran had never mentioned anything to him about his son. Lann assumed Svanrige was receiving adequate care in the Druid Circle.
Had King Bran explained Svanrige's condition to him earlier, Lann would have used his ability point to save him, whether for practical reasons or because of the close ties they shared.
However, he couldn't blame anyone else either. Lann had never fully revealed his abilities to others; there were too many secrets about himself that he preferred to keep hidden.
At this moment, he could only explain to Eist. "The foundation of Elder Blood is magic, which means I need a considerable amount of chaotic energy to activate this skill. I usually need to look for magic items to absorb that energy and then use it in my skills."
Eist, after hearing the explanation, nodded in understanding. This seemed reasonable to him, as sorcerers often required special objects, weather conditions, or even astronomical phenomena such as a solar eclipse to perform powerful spells.
"That won't be a problem." Eist said thoughtfully. "The Tuirseach clan has a fine collection of magical items. I'll write a letter... No, I'll ask a druid to open a portal to return to An Skellig and fetch what you need."
Lann shook his head and clarified: "The magic items I need are quite specific; not all of them serve this purpose. If we don't find something suitable, I can still obtain energy in other ways... such as hunting monsters or helping others fulfill specific wishes."
Eist looked at him in disbelief. Because this is completely beyond their understanding, no known mage has this way of increasing power.
"So that's the reason you were helping so many people all over the place in Cintra? Because it allowed you to gain power?" He asked, as if he had put two and two together.
Lann nodded uncomfortably. "I don't know how much longer Svanrige can hold out, or if we'll make it in time…"
As he spoke, Lann glanced at his experience bar, which was almost full. Perhaps, completing a quest in the Circle of Druids would be faster than searching for magic items. Especially since the Tuirseach clan soldiers would surely help him, which would increase efficiency.
