Welcome to my seemingly endless journey.
A trip that will take you to places I might have visited many moons ago.
It´s a tale that came back to me when I meditated on one of my past lives. A life I told you about in my unbelievable true story.
As promised in that story I will now share this story with you.
Chapter 37
Time crawls by as if the sun doesn't want to leave the sky, making waiting difficult for me. Unfortunately, there's no other option. Going to work isn't possible because the mixtures need to be made and administered multiple times a day.
Reiki, the art of laying on hands, is the only option left. It involves channeling focused energy from the cosmos through my body to the areas needing healing.
I watch over the woman day and night. I even sleep on the floor beside her to continue treatment throughout the night. It's exhausting, I only leave the room for basic necessities.
Most of the time, I won't leave her side at all. On the morning of the third day, the first rays of the sun awaken me. The little rascals shine straight into my eye through a crack in the shutters.
As I try to get up, I see Kosa seated on a chair across the bed. Despite his tired expression and the bags under his eyes, his eyes shine like never before.
I'm puzzled by this sight.
I rise from the floor, and now I see what's causing his radiance. His wife, previously buried in pillows with feverish eyes, is sitting up slightly, holding a mug in her right hand while Kosa holds her left.
Tears of joy well up as I witness this. I can't help but laugh and leave the room to give the two of them their private moment.
When I rush into the barn to share the news with my companions, a sense of relief washes over them.
Much later in the day, we see Kosa again. He had held his wife all morning. She's still weak, lacks appetite, and her cough hasn't disappeared. However, the cloths that were previously stained with coughed-up blood are now mostly white with only a trace of brownish red.
In the afternoon and evening, I continue nursing her. Kosa appears to be having the happiest day of his life. He whistles and sings whenever I see him, expressing gratitude countless times from the bottom of his heart.
I also feel happy and proud of the confidence I've gained undertaking this task. Our hostess visibly improves, and a week later, she's back behind the stone stove.
“Thank you, gentlemen, for your tremendous effort in building the farm. I'm so much more than pleased to have asked for your assistance. It warms my heart to see honest, hardworking people willing to help others without seeking much in return. In your case, sometimes nothing at all,” he looks at Numico.
"Boy, my beast of burden hasn't run this smoothly in ages. I don't know what you've done, but it's fantastic." Numico grins and replies, “Aside from caring for the wound, I listened to him. You seem to be a good boss, but he'd appreciate the unmarketable fruit more often, and a bucket or two of water now and then to rinse his fur wouldn't hurt."
Our host laughs heartily, unaware of Numico's complete honesty. “I'll make sure, boy, that the animal gets well-treated in its old age. Especially considering it's been a loyal companion for years.
My eternal gratitude goes especially to you, Mart,” he says, looking at me intently. “I won't inquire into the support you've received from higher powers or any magic you've practiced. What matters to me is that you're sitting here across from me at the table. Something I could hardly have hoped for just a few days ago. It might sound clichéd, but now that I see what I nearly lost, I'll cherish every day we have together more intensely than ever before."
I chuckle, a bit overwhelmed. “May there be many more,” I say, rising to propose a toast. “We naturally thank our host and hostess for their hospitality, which they extended to strangers who had no assurance of it. They welcomed us as if we were friends and treated us as equals. I can only hope to encounter more of these people on our journey. Thank you for everything." Bowls are raised, and each person toasts and thanks another.
After dinner, we all gather around the fire. Kosa and I share stories that have been passed down to us over the years. These tales are from a time when the greats walked the earth alongside us, and dragons were a common sight. It was an era when knowledge was limited, and sorcery was commonplace.
Numico and Rechmana are all ears, listening attentively. Occasionally, they interject with their own contributions if a story triggers a memory. We narrate the stories as if we had experienced them firsthand, adding an extra layer of excitement.
Numico's account is particularly captivating. He recounts a time when an army attacked his village and how, as the leader of the men present at that moment, he wielded his sword, cutting through enemy lines with each swing. His enthusiastic gestures bring the story to life.
Rech, who has recently regained most of his speech, listens attentively but remains quiet. However, later that evening, as the stories revolve around wise women and their unique abilities, Rech finally speaks up.
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