Belinda the Healing Hand

“This is the fourth one tonight!”

“And there will be more.” Grimly replied. “He’s in the fourth gate.”

Taking off her helmet, Belinda rushed through to the designated stall. The battlefield was a mere half hour from their current position – their forces were pushed back. All the healers were pushed to their limits. Usually, Belinda is out of hostilities, helping the warriors. That was exactly reason she was sent for, but here, she was most useful character to lead the efforts.

One of the fighting grypharims looked up at her as she rushed in, a slow clicking whine echoing from its throat. A deep gash was cut through its side, blood matting in its feathers. This has been with a sharp blade… and one from the ground. It must mean- yes, there were also injuries in the wings. This beast had been brought down from the skies, and would have likely met a grisly death if not for the quick actions of his rider. No doubt he was still out in the field while his charge was brought back for treatment.

Kneeling by the griffin, Belinda clucked her tongue a few times and whispered softly.

“Do not fear me, young one. You will be back to the battle soon.”

As she spoke, she removed her armoured gloves carefully, placing them on the strands of straw that littered the stone floor. The stalls were makeshift and temporary, used specifically for times of battle. They would do for what they needed but only for a short time.

Placing her bare hands on the weeping cut on the griffin’s side, Belinda closed her eyes and focused her will forward – the warmth grew in her chest, slowly moving down her arms and then glowing around her outstretched palms. The griffin closed its eyes as the wound slowly began to stitch. The sounds of the battle coming so close faded as the woman focused only on her duty – saving the injured, and sending them back for blood in the name of their Empire.