Year One #26: Healing Art

Elliot yawned as he sat at the bar. His large head laid on his right forearm on the counter, his left arm stretched out with the palm visible. The blood was drying through the lines of his hand. He followed the dark crusty patterns to smaller and smaller lines until his eyes went blurry. The cut had stopped hurting but it tickled something awful. The Barkeeper had told him he wasn’t allowed to move it ‘til the healed spot stopped being pink. Elliot squinted at where the cut had been. It was still pink. He groaned.

The glowing lines on the counter under his hand pulsed and flickered. His fingers twitched as the tickling became unbearable. He looked towards the kitchen hoping The Barkeeper didn’t see him move. He bit his bottom lip and looked close at the pink line, wondering if he would be hurt all over again. It just looked pink still.

Mama had always scolded him for not watching where he was going. He had been getting away with it recently at work. Elliot had been enjoying how well the apron let him move around the tables and counters. He had been putting away supplies in the kitchen quicker and quicker. Until he tripped. He was quick enough now when he had on the apron to fling out his arms and not just fall flat like he used to. Today there had been a knife left out where his hand slapped the chopping counter. It had hurt a lot. The Barkeeper seemed rather concerned about all the blood, especially when it had gotten on the apron. Elliot had had to take the apron off at once. Now he was here, told to sit and wait for the glowing lines to fix his hand. It was nice and all, but it really did tickle something awful. Elliot wondered what would happen if he did get up. Would the cut come back? Would his hand fall off? Maybe the cut would turn blue. Elliot chuckled. His eyes darted back towards the kitchen. He looked between the door and his hand a few times before edging the palm slightly away from the circle of symbols. He stared at the fading scar. Right above the edge of the magic lines, the pinkness started to become two different colors. The pink outside remained the same, and the scar still above the fancy mark got lighter, fading a bit more. Elliot giggled and moved his palm a little further. Soon he had a collection of variation pinks along his scar. He lifted the scar up close to his eyes, having worked his whole hand off of the mark. It looked really neat. 

The kitchen door opened and Elliot smacked the back of his hand atop the rune in a panic. It hurt his knuckles and made the scar burn. He nervously stared at the scar, wishing the pink to all blend together again. He couldn’t face The Barkeeper knowing he had gone against specific instructions, especially with something magic. He hung his head over his hand, hiding his eyes and palm all at once. 

“Still misty-eyed even on the mend, eh Elly?”

Elliot looked up to find Shula looking at him. He was so relieved that he didn’t even bother correcting her calling him the wrong name. Again.

“Oh, just watching it,” he said, but knew he hadn’t said it plain enough. Her eyebrows rose, and he knew that she knew.

“You moved didn’t you?”

Elliot blinked away nervous tears. He shook his head slightly but couldn’t deny it.

“It’s gonna make my hand fall off isn’t it?” he whimpered.

Shula laughed at him but was trying to hide it behind her hand.

“No silly, but you’ll never be rid of the scar. Lemme see what you got.” She stepped up to the back of the bar. Elliot shyly covered his hand, leaning his mass over it and shielding it with his free arm.

“Oh stop it, you’re fine, lemme see.”

She moved his arm gently aside. Elliot had never known her to be gentle. Her much smaller teal hands weren’t balled into the fists that she always had when she had been leading the gang. She looked at his palm and gave an approving nod.

“You’ve given yourself a bit of decoration. For a scar, it’s rather interesting.” 

Elliot looked at the dashed line on his palm that faded to nearly nothing. He did think it looked neat. 

“Oh did the spell fade?” said The Barkeeper.

Elliot went pale. The Barkeeper had appeared beside Shula, appraising the dashes as well. 

“Uhm, no. I…uh. Well…”

“I think he went with the artsy heal Mr. Keep. It’s a tall order to have this one sit still for too long anyway, surely you know that by now.” Shula said. She winked at Elliot with a smirk before turning back to the kitchen door. 

The Barkeeper looked at the scar. “Well you are healed at the very least, permanent coloration the only thing left which will linger now that it has had separated exposure.” He waved his hand and the magical rune completely vanished. He nodded to Elliot, “The apron will need the night to finish cleaning, you may take up sweeping tasks or can go ahead home for the day if you wish.”

Elliot twisted his mouth as he pondered the choice. He had a thought, “Can I have some of that fresh bread soaked in broth before I go?”

A full bowl had appeared before he could finish the words. The Barkeeper smiled with a nod, vanishing to greet new guests at the door.