She sat serenely within the small first floor room: around her lay three unconscious forms: all of which showed signs of the Caeruleus plague. She had already administered the draft to all three of them: having already dispatched their still healthy mother and younger sibling, using the components of their butchered flesh to cover the three siblings: a boy and twin girls, in the entire biological infrastructure of their now deceased relatives. Around her fingers and thumbs crisscrossed a network of fine red strings: which attached themselves to mystical marks in the shape of pentacles daubed onto the three’s foreheads. The woman smiled as the lines began to twitch: blood seeping out of the three’s bodies, creating a solid black cocoon around each.
“It is time: awaken sleepers and take your forms.” She yelled like an insane blood soaked marionette-wielding puppeteer.
The room was filled with screams as the souls began to cook within the shells of the chrysalises that surrounded the woman in gore drenched midnight blue robes.

Lucia sat in her chair, her pose suggested that she was thinking; yet her expression said otherwise. Two hours ago Nicola had wandered out of the Chapterhouse to feed, that in itself was something that Lucia expected of her apprentice, only she went a bit too far on her victim: he was almost entirely drained of blood and extremely anaemic. Lucia had little choice but to place him in the care of two green healers: luckily the bite marks had healed by the time they examined him.
Lucia just wished that the true nature of white healers would not be discovered by the other ranks of the order of healers. Yet she had shared the information on how most of the procedure in which the padre in Nicola’s village.
“Then again he probably did not see what I actually used.” She mused to herself.
She looked back at Nicola, seeing the young woman stir in her sleep with a smile on her face.
“Nicola?” she asked, unsure whether her apprentice was awake or still asleep.
She opened her eyes, a feeling of confusion appeared in them as to her name being called.
“Where am I?” she asked groggily.
“The chapterhouse: in Permulcere.” Reminded Lucia; calmly.
Nicola rose slightly from her rough bed situated on a hard stone ledge, before looking groggily at Lucia.
“Permulcere?” she mouthed, still unsure about where she was.
“Are you alright Nicola?”
“Nicola?” she asked in slight confusion: her hand moving up to the pair of obsidian ovisian horns. Her expression began to change upon realising and remembering the events of the last two days. “Oh. Sorry mistress, I was just.”
“Not fully awake?” finished Lucia. “Well that could be expected considering the last few days.”
Nicola groaned slightly: massaging her eyes.
“Dawn prayers will be starting soon: dress quickly into your new robes as soon as you can and I will meet you outside.” Lucia informed her apprentice, rising carefully from her chair and leaving the cell.
Nicola watched her leave: her body felt strange; not just from the changes brought about from when she was once Nicholas, but no; it was not that.
Blood. The thought of it briefly entered the young woman’s mind; and with it the memories of the previous night where she greedily devoured the red fluid from the jugular of a man; forced to rest on the streets overnight.
“Oh goddess. What did I do?” she whispered to herself, shocked by the memory.
A knock at the door pulled her from her half-asleep reverie, reminding Nicola of what she needed to do.
“Ready yet?”
“Not yet mistress!” she replied, quickly stripping off her old rag-like clothes and pulling on the long green habit. She slipped her feet inside her pigskin leather boots, whilst grabbing her Surplice and cowl: both of which had a central white stripe of her Mistress’s rank against a pale pink dyed cloth. Nicola glanced around the room as she managed to slip her second boot on, before rushing to the door.
“I am sorry mistress.” Apologised Nicola.
“You had best be: next time I might let you off with a slight thrashing.” Growled Lucia before leading the way towards the chapel as the first sign of dawn crept over the edge of the chapterhouse walls.

Dawn began to break over the city of Rhaeadr: a city besieged by the Caeruleus plague. The shadows of night were still long in the encroaching phase of the day. A woman began to walk calmly along the stone paved streets: trying to keep as low a profile as possible. Already there was a significant presence of the red robed healers in the city, something which given time she could rectify. She turned a corner into a small alleyway, watching as a group of healers passed by bearing a plague victim on a stretcher.
“So mistress: what do you wish us to do?” purred a silky smooth female voice.
Adela turned to face the three young women standing behind her. She smiled confidently at their forms: works of art in each case, carved from flesh by the sisters who now inhabited the bodies.
“Nothing for now Xaire: we wait to see what they do first.” Adela replied
“Why is that?” another of the girls asked. “Shouldn’t we act now as they are unprepared for our presence?”
“They will be too busy concentrating on the plague, Xela, to bother with us. I intend that today you familiarise yourself with the area: but make sure you are not spotted by the healers.”
“What should we do if we do encounter one of them?” questioned the last, “Can we kill them?”
Adela smiled a cruel wolfish smile. “No Xyn, I have a better plan in how to deal with them.”
The shadows in the alley lengthened as those in the street were banished by the sunlight. The four women walked onwards in the growing sunlight towards the walls of the city.

Nicola looked with concern at the bowl before her. It was not that she had not eaten stew like this before: when she was Nicholas his or more precisely her mother had cooked stews when the ingredients had become available. It was the availability of the ingredients that prevented Nicola from having stew more often: especially when it included meat.
She looked cautiously at her mistress who sat across from her.
“Are you not hungry?” Lucia asked with clear concern for her charge.
“No it is not that.”
“Then what is it then?”
Nicola brought a spoonful of stew level with her mouth. “It is difficult to say.”
Lucia lowered her voice: leaning carefully across the table “try me: well as long as it is nothing related to your own healing.”
Nicola finished eating her mouthful of stew. “I know I am your apprentice, but what is it that I have agreed to do?”
Lucia leaned back with a gentle smile on her face. “I will go into detail with you about it later, but in general you will be taught in the general classes for apprentices, by me and by a secondary master who is willing to take you on.”
“A secondary master?”
“A replacement for me should anything significant happen: such as me being called away to somewhere due to an emergency: one which the other healers would struggle to contain.”
“Such as?”
“You already know the answer.”
Lucia returned to eating her breakfast stew whilst Nicola looked on in stunned silence before returning to her own meal. The apprentices and healers on either side of the pair seemed to give them strange looks, which were uncomfortable to Nicola but something Lucia seemed used to.

Lord Marius Storm, master of Rhaeadr rose carefully from his bed: it was not long until he was greeted by one of his servants. Despite him being of slight yet athletic build, Lord Marius was assisted by his servants in dressing, before preparing himself for his morning patrol of the walls. He already knew that he was not long for this world, as he strode out fully armoured from the Fortress’s gateway and across the line bridge which spanned the radius of the city: between the Fortress and the walls. Marius knew that this bridge was both the defensive lifeline and Achilles heel as it allowed for increased movement of troops in response to invasion: whilst also allowing advancing forces to control the city should the outer walls fall. But now the city had been invaded by a strange invisible enemy: the Caeruleus plague. Already the healers had begun to quarantine those affected by the plague on board ships moored in the city dockyards: situated beneath the bridge. Then there was the report he had received from the healers: one of those infected with the plague had vanished leaving only a gore filled room in its place and no sign of the crystals which gave it its name. He decided to resume the inspection of the guards and his watch over the city; before heading in for breakfast at midday.
As he strode out across the heavy stone structure which spanned the city dockyards: he began to notice footsteps racing towards him. He turned to see a red robed healer run up to him and stop, panting to catch their breath.
“So what is it this time?” he asked, unsure about what the news was that the healer brought.
“Murder.” Gasped the man with the sky blue Surplice.

Un-noticed below them walked two figures through the shadows. From first appearances they seemed to be a man and woman taking a simple stroll along the dockside market of the city; using the side streets and cut-throughs to reach their destination, that is until you take in how unusually tall and lanky the man was: especially with two pairs of long obsidian dorcan horns growing from his skull: each decorated by a tirade of ruby red runes, inscribed to a depth that they appeared to be almost bleeding.
“So mistress: you pulled me through yesterday from that human, but you have yet to tell me what our plans are.”
The woman smiled evilly to herself in response to the question. “I will tell you this evening when we meet up with the others: that is when the plan will be finalised Merdtz.”
The man looked at his mistress: why was she being so evasive about the plan, why could they not just kill the healers now whilst they were unaware of their presence? Then again there was always the possibility that she was after a bigger prize, one she had yet to tell him.
The two of them slipped in and out of the bustling crowds: Merdtz’s horns obscured by his heavy hood which hung over his eyes. Few turned to stare at the giant as they moved onwards towards a warehouse like building not far from a strut of the immense stone structure.

“Murder?” he asked not quite believing the words of the sky blue healer.
“Yes Lord Storm.” The man replied.
“Explain further.”
“We headed towards where a case of the plague had been reported: when we arrived we found no sign of the plague victims. Instead there were two bodies stripped of all flesh and organs lying on the upper floor of the house. Some of our younger apprentices felt a bit delicate after that to say the least.”
“So what does this murder mean?”
“I honestly do not know: I suspect it could be connected with the disappearance yesterday; as with both cases the bodies of those suffering from the plague had disappeared with no sign of the gems being left behind.”
“But could this mean that someone took the gems before you arrived?”
The healer stopped in his report to consider the question before answering. “No. not unless the one who butchered the other two: was also the thief. Also there were other more worrying signs.”
“What kind of worrying signs?”
“Voids in large pools of blood: voids large enough to suggest the presence of someone lying there, as well as a residue, suggesting the possibility of magic being used.”
He looked at the healer, trying to process what had been said.
“So what do you suggest be done then?”
“We have already dispatched apprentices to act as messengers: the situation is slowly going beyond our skills and experience. We need the knowledge of the white healers.”

“How was your first lesson then?” Lucia asked as her apprentice began to walk towards her from the centre of the lawn.
“Different.” Was Nicola’s reply, as she walked past her mistress: into the shadows of the arcade.
Lucia looked back towards the lawn as a man in his thirties approached.
“You seem to have a very inquisitive apprentice white healer.” The green healer commented.
“Thank you; it is only her first day here.” She replied.
“That is surprising: miss?”
“Lucia Vitririus. And you are?”
“Harold Caecillius.” The man replied. “So you say that it is her first day here?”
“That and her first full day of her apprenticeship: she has only been apprenticed to me for two days now.”
“Two days?”
“That is correct. I know that other healer ranks prefer to train their apprentices more before actually agreeing to take them on. In my case she just seemed to be the best candidate that I came across.”
Harold looked at her darkly. “There is talk of witchcraft in the White healers, beyond the usual healing charms and spells practiced by the rest of the order. I wonder how much of that is true: especially with those horns that your apprentice has.”
Lucia smiled before replying offhand “You should not worry: we are on your side, just not quite one of you: if you understand what I mean by that.”
“I think I do.” He replied.
Lucia began to move off before realising something. “Before I forget: Harold, would you be able to take Nicola on should anything happen to me?”
“Possibly. There is word that you white healers are few and far between, so it is something that I would consider.”
“Thank you. I am indeed indebted to you.”
“It would be my honour to be granted a possibility such as this. Good day miss Lucia.”
Harold moved off towards the chapel of the Chapterhouse.
Lucia watched him go before heading off towards the Chapterhouse dormitories.

Nicola knelt by the hard stone ledge: studying the array of bottles and vials: slotted snugly into the roll of pocketed fabric before her. In turn she removed each and studied the symbols on every one until she found the last three. These were the standard panaceas used in most healing situations, either alone or as part of a larger concoction. She slowly replaced them in turn back into their respective pockets. Nicola leant back to view the array laid out before her. The roll contained thirty different potions and chemicals: each with in quantities of four.
She turned when she heard the door to the cell open.
“Hello Nicola. Are you ready for your next lesson?” asked Lucia with optimism.
“It would be interesting what you are going to teach me mistress: is it something that the others know?”
“Not all: only white healers and blue healers really know what I am about to teach you.” She replied darkly, before barring the door closed.
“Mistress is there a reason?” began Nicola.
“Strip.” Lucia ordered.
“Pardon?”
“You heard me: strip.” Lucia replied: whilst removing her own clothes and placing them on her bed.
Cautiously Nicola followed suit. Whatever her mistress required her to do, it would be wise to do it: the memory of the previous night in the street quickly returned to her.
She glanced at Lucia, catching a glimpse of her now naked mistress reach for her roll of vials from her bag, before reaching in and retrieving a second roll of vials. It is this second roll that she quickly located what she was searching for: a vial and two needles.
“Come and sit down.” Suggested Lucia: seating her nude form cross-legged upon the cold stone floor of the cell.
Nicola slowly moved to her mistress, sitting opposite in the same cross-legged pose. Carefully, Lucia opened the vial of liquid, placing the cork stop beside them.
“This is very difficult to obtain: but only a small amount is required for what we need.” She explained, passing one of the needles to Nicola.
“What we need to do is dip the tip of the needle into the vial: and pierce each other’s foreheads in the centre.”
“Yes mistress, I think I understand.” Nicola replied as Lucia carefully dipped her needle into the liquid, before allowing her apprentice to follow suit.
As Nicola rose slowly with her needle coated in the unknown drug, she noticed something dart past her eyes and sting her precisely in the centre of her forehead.
“Do not touch it; instead do the same to me.”
Nicola looked suspiciously at her mistress, holding the needle unsteadily in her hand, trying to line it up with the middle of her mistress’ head. She felt the pressure of the woman’s flesh as the needle pushed through the skin. She held it briefly before withdrawing the needle and placing it carefully by her side. Nicola could feel blood building up on her forehead, also seeing a small red dot beginning to grow on her mistress’s head as well.
“Now place your hands on my shoulders.” Instructed Lucia; calmly.
Nicola obliged silently: placing her small dainty fingers over the athletic shoulders of the woman before her. She felt something brush against her own arms, as her mistress placed her own strong sinewy fingers over the apprentice’s shoulders.
Nicola watched as her mistress moved her head closer, until their foreheads touched. A wave of coldness flowed over Nicola and her eyesight was engulfed in mist.
“So this is what you look like.” Mused Lucia jollily.
Nicola turned, only now realising where they were as the meadow grass brushed over her feet.